I wrote about patience back in April. Yes, it's a virtue. Not one that I ever remember having. But I've been noticing lately that it's becoming easier to be patient. I very recently described myself as a patient person, then said, "Wait. What? You're patient?"
Yes! I am! I can wait for it, whatever "it" is. A phone call, an email, a get-together, a trip, a date, a package from amazon.com, a new car, the return of one of my adventuring children. I can wait.
And it's kind of bizarre, isn't it? When I was younger and had it all, I was so impatient for more. I couldn't wait for holidays, I couldn't wait for summer, I couldn't wait for all those "firsts" that my kids accomplished, I couldn't wait for the next episode of thirtysomething. I was always looking ahead, waiting for the next thing. Impatiently.
Now I'm older, running out of time, and I am patiently waiting, as if I have all the time in the world.
Why?
Why not? I have arrived at the whatever stage of life. I've had a lot of joy, and I've had a lot of sadness. I've waited for things, and whether I was patient or not, they either happened or they didn't. So what is the point of being impatient?
No point at all. I love being released from impatience.
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