Blog #224--Transitioning From Impatience to Patience
I recently had the pleasure of accompanying my son on an afternoon shopping trip. He likes perusing antique shops, and he wants to spend time with his dear old dad while he still has a chance. I have health problems that make me home bound for lengthy periods of time, and my kind-hearted son understands my need to get out once in awhile. I will go wherever he wishes to take me since it also gives me a chance to spend time with him.
This one store is large and overflowing with precious baubles of all kinds. The walking areas are barely wide enough for walking, and I have the additional problem of needing to lug around a cumbersome oxygen tank on wheels. As a result, I realized I’d be best off standing in one spot so I wouldn’t break anything. I did some looking around, but it was mostly secondary to moving from one slightly more open area to another.
We were there more than an hour, but my active mind kept me company, helping prevent boredom. My son and I have followed a similar procedure for a couple years now, so I have learned to tolerate lengthy delays without complaint. Still, it surprised me when the store owner came up to me as we were leaving and congratulated me on my patience.
I had to laugh about that since I have been considered a relatively impatient person most of my life. I used to drive my parents crazy in the car, asking repeatedly, “Are we about there yet?” or “How many more miles?” I didn’t enjoy going somewhere, just being there. I was miserable sitting in the back seat of the car with nothing to do. As I got older, driving my own car helped alleviate some of that impatience, but even then I was usually eager to arrive at my destination.
Most if not all of us have a great deal of impatience growing up. We know there are certain future events that will be important to us, and we are often eager to see them come to fruition. Christmas was likely the strongest for me, at least until I realized my presents came from my family and not some mysterious magician in a red suit. Easter was anticipated when I thought a bunny left me candy and a couple little toys. I looked forward to fireworks on July 4th. Halloween was also fun, so I felt an impatience for that date on the calendar as well.
I couldn’t wait to see how tall I would grow, hoping beyond hope I would reach 6’ (I made it on the nose). I couldn’t wait until I was 16 and could drive a car. I was impatient to have a beard to shave, although that changed quickly once I began shaving and realized how bored I would get with that repetitive behavior the rest of my life. I looked forward to my 18th birthday so I could vote and 21st birthday so I could drink alcohol legally. Probably most people share similar goals when young.
In addition, I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to attend school. Since I loved all colors, I was always eager to advance from one grade to another so I would be required to own larger and larger boxes of crayons. I couldn’t wait until school was out for the summer, but I also looked forward to learning new things the next school year. I couldn’t wait to attend junior high school and later high school, and once there I felt impatience toward completing the process.
I thought college would never end, and I then had four more years of veterinary school to repeat the process. I couldn’t wait until I graduated; that is, until my senior year of veterinary school when I realized I would no longer be attending school but had to work in the “real world” the rest of my life. And I was eager to meet and marry a woman and have a family. I assumed that was a requirement of life, so I was impatient for it to happen. I didn’t really consider the long-term implications of marriage or work either one. Are we really best off with the same spouse and profession our entire lives? Those thoughts were blocked by my impatience to get on with life.
Little by little, life helps us transition into a more patient countenance. Once we have reached the goals for which we have been so eager to attain, there is less need for impatience. In fact, once we reach maturity we begin to realize our lives have a finite time frame. We begin to see little health problems that could lead eventually to our demise. We begin to have short-term memory lapses and less adeptness at activities we used to take for granted. We begin to realize that each moment is precious and to appreciate it because it may be our last.
We also feel that way when our parents pass on. Suddenly we are the elder statesmen of our family and have no one to turn to in times of need. That sobers up most of us. A similar effect is often noticed when our children become adults and begin lives of their own. We spend so much time with them and go through so much, both good and bad, but now most of our work is completed. We will still see them occasionally and interact as best we can with them, but it isn’t quite the same. We can enjoy our grandchildren if we have any, but each year our ability to play with them diminishes as we enter old age. That really reminds us of our fragility, and rightly so.
So life helps make us impatient when we are young, and it then teaches us patience as we age. It’s a good thing because I am happier now as a more patient person than I was when nothing could happen soon enough to satisfy me. I wish my parents could see me now; they’d be shocked at how patient I have become. Of course, I inherited my traits through them, so they were likely the same way when they were alive. Priorities and needs change over time as well.
It is easier to enjoy the process and not just the end result when we can no longer guarantee we can finish what we start. Enjoying what we have at any given moment is the potential reward for our patience.
http://dreamtime3.wixsite.com/jacktuttlebook
Comments and questions can be directed to dreamtime@insight-books.com.