The other night I went to the movies with my best friend Jaz to see The Perfect Guy, which was basically another corny, fatal attraction-esque ordeal: Girl meets guy (or vice versa), guy is perfect (hence the poorly ambiguous film title), girl and guy sex each other crazy, guy turns coo coo, girl breaks up with guy, guy becomes even more coo coo, everybody dies. The end.
If it weren’t for the ridiculous overload of onscreen eye candy — Michael Ealy, Morris Chestnut and Sanaa Lathan together was all types of fleektified Black beauty — I would’ve walked straight out of that theater and turned in my $7.50 child (of God) ticket for a refund, spent 80% of that on a pint of Talenti Caramel Apple Pie gelato on the way home, and found a nice, low-budget Black rom-com with a juicy storyline on Netflix. But instead, I sat through an entire 90 minutes of predictability so I could write the above movie review and save your $10.50 (because you never thought of just buying a child ticket from the kiosk — they never check). You’re welcome.
Anyway, Jaz and I had a little time before our movie to grab a bite to eat, so we settled on getting appetizers at a nearby restaurant. A little while after we ordered our spinach dip and calamari, I began to look like this dude…
Me: What is taking our food so long? All we ordered was a couple of appetizers.
Jaz: *rolls eyes* She literally just took our order 10 minutes ago… You gotta get you some patience, baby girl.
I smacked my lips, partially because I wasn’t here for a lecture, but mostly because I knew Jaz was right — patience has never been a strong suit of mine. And anyone who knows me, knows that.
I’m the type that will send someone a message on Facebook and an hour later, wonder why they haven’t replied yet. ESPECIALLY if I see that the message was successfully deliverd’t and “Seen” five minutes after I sent it (thank God I don’t have an iPhone).
So yes, I have a bit of a problem when it comes to patience. But in my efforts to improve in this particular area of my life, I’ve adopted a few strategies to help increase my levels of long-suffering. They’re listed below:
- Giving folk the benefit of the doubt: I have a tendency to jump the gun easily, so I have to constantly remind myself that everyone thinks, acts and responds differently. On top of that, people have different situations that they are dealing with outside of my concerns. I have to remember to take all of these things into consideration when dealing with others.
- Realizing that everything is not on Kori’s time: This ties into No. 1. As much as I’d like to think so sometimes, this is not The Kori Show. Which means everyone else is not on my time. They have their own jobs, families and personal issues to tend to, which leaves my concerns at the bottom of their priority list. And that’s fine. I’m learning that everything is not personal, nor meant to be taken as such.
- Learning not to get easily frustrated: I’m discovering that getting frustrated about every little thing that doesn’t go my way is not going to change the situation. There’s no point in getting agitated over things that are out of my control. All that makes me is an idle chick with a bad attitude.
- Doing yoga: Yoga is the business. I try to do it two to three times a week. Even though I mostly just sit in child’s pose with my eyes closed (don’t judge me), the mere practice of breathing while in total stillness plays a huge part in helping me to develop more self-discipline and patience.
- Trusting God: At the end of the day, He got me. So what am I tripping for? I can wait.
Even if it’s just for some spinach dip and calamari.