Patience, by its very definition, has an end. Patience is: the good natured tolerance and delay in agitation for delay or incompetence. No where in there does it say it is indefinite. But where do you draw the line? Especially when you know there is a good person behind the offending behavior. How much time do you give to the want of change, without that change actually manifesting? I don't have the answers to these questions, perhaps no one does. Or, more likely, it is individually based on the person and relative situation. What I present is only an analysis of what a patient person, one patient person goes through. Loss. Sorrowful, gut wrenching loss. And that loss is recurring. Not a singular event. It happens over and over again. Hope, love, then loss. After all, patience is not eternal. It becomes necessary, over time, to withdraw. To minimize the wounding. Patience can be a good thing, but it also wounds. Maybe if others knew of the wounds they might be a little more careful. Take a little more care in how they treat themselves as well as others. Perhaps, to most it is a foreign concept, that how you treat yourself effects others. The thought that when you mistreat yourself, others are the ones who are pained and harmed is something that most have not come to terms with. We are all interconnected and that is something we can not stop. We are tied by our own humanity, or inhumanity as the case may be. But we are still all interconnected. When one develops a bond to another, there is joy. The shared reality that develops can either be nurturing or harmful. And when one within that shared reality acts detrimentally, it effects the whole of the shared reality. In this way, how we treat ourselves is how we treat others. Too many of us don't treat ourselves with respect, then we expect to gain that necessary respect from others. That can not happen. We all need to respect ourselves. Treat ourselves gently and with reverence. In this way we can then treat others gently and with reverence. Patience needs to be rewarded, or it disappears. Wounds will eventually overtake it, if it isn't.
Part of what makes being an artist so unique is the basic necessity to challenge preconceived notions. Be them blatant or subtle, the notions themselves. One notion that I find myself fighting consistently is that of the diminished capacity in those with a mental illness, just because they have a mental illness. Mental illness is no different than any other illness, there are those that have a diminished capacity and those that are highly intelligent. Just because the illness is mental does not make it and intellectual deficiency. Nor does it make the illness imaginary. It simply means that the illness is mental. Those with depression or PTSD are not intellectually defective, many have higher than average IQs. In fact, it is believed that depression is more prevalent in those with a higher than average IQ. Making those with mental illness the more intelligent of the bunch. So those with a mental illness process the world differently, isn’t different a good thing? Aren’t we, especially as an artist, dependent on the different? Aren’t we all in search of something “different”? Something new? Perhaps we should put preconceived notions aside and stop assuming that there is only one right way. Perhaps I, as an artist, can shine some light on those preconceived notions and dispel the falsehoods abound in them. So I put forth, for your edification, this: As with any illness there are those that are ignorant and of diminished intelligence, but not all of them are. It is not a condition of the illness. It is, however, indicative of above average intelligence to be depressed, which is a form of mental illness. Do not judge. Instead, research, educate and edify.