*grin*

Most common statement to me: “Wow, you must have a lot of patience.”

Why, yes. Yes, I do. Patience is the life lesson for the moment. I have patience because I’m riding a bus, and one can never know how long it’ll really take to get to your destination. One can also never really know when the bus will arrive. Sometimes it arrives a few minutes too soon, and you can watch in vain while it pulls away. You’re close enough that you’re tempted to run for it, but far enough away that you’ll never make it before it pulls away. You’re experienced enough to know, too, that you won’t make it because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve run in the cold, hard Colorado air, lungs about to collapse in on themselves, and missed it.

Sometimes the bus is running late, and you have to stand there, longing for something– a cigarette, a smile… someone to get mugged…

If the bus is running late, it will generally be over-crowded. Over-crowded buses are a good opportunity to practice patience. One must be patient with the driver, when he slams on his breaks and all of the crowd goes wild with exclamations about their whiplash and wanting a free ride. One must be patient with the kid sitting behind you who is obviously sick, coughing up a lung, hopefully covering his mouth so you don’t end up with a nice thick loogie in your hair. One must be patient with the non-intelligent chap who is throwing f-bombs and racial slurs. One must be patient with the blubbering drunk who is clamoring over his Dear Lost Lover. One must be patient with the woman who gets on the bus with her five children– with balloons– and tries to sit in one area on the bus. One must be extra patient when the children with balloons start tossing them back and forth to each other, across the aisles. One must be patient when the gentleman, sitting patiently, reaches up and pops the balloons and the children start crying.

Yes, I am a patient person.

Most common question to me: “What do you do if the strings get all tangled up around each other?”

My response: “They already ARE tangled up around each other.”

The thing is, you can’t sit around and wait for something terrible to happen, you just take life (or a bracelet) one step (or one knot) at a time. If you need to use a string that’s knotted up, you gently pull on just that one string, holding onto the bunch of strings with your other hand, and it will easily come apart. But if you grab at it, or yank it, you’ll end up with a bigger problem. You just gently pull. You negotiate the string and the knots.

Tying a friendship bracelet gives me time to think. It gives me time to reflect and it reminds me that I need to focus. There are no mistakes I can’t fix one way or another. One time, I broke a string. I had to tie it back onto itself and cover it up with another string so that you couldn’t tell I had broken it. It pays, though, to pay attention to what you’re doing, because if you make a mistake and don’t catch it until much later, you’ll have a great number of knots to untie in order to fix your mistake.

Ultimately, if you are persistent and consistent with tying these knots, they eventually weave themselves into an impressive creation. The ones I’ve done recently are absolutely beautiful.

Life’s a lot like tying a friendship bracelet.

3 Comments »

1. 

   You are hilarious…”you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve run in the cold, hard Colorado air..”
   Funny stuff. I would die on the bus.

   Comment by Colleen — January 5, 2008 @ 8:24 pm

2. 

   Amazing site
   Thanks, webmaster.

   Comment by Boo — August 25, 2008 @ 4:10 am

3. 

   Cool blog
   Thanks, webmaster.

   Comment by Bam — August 25, 2008 @ 7:57 am

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