It’s About..Patience?

12 Oct

Ugh. I don’t even like to type that word. Patience and I, we don’t get along. Which is pretty unfortunate right? If people like me had more patience, we all would live in a much better world. I fly commercially quite a bit and the patience of the TSA agents is beyond my comprehension. I mean if I had to tell people to take the liquids out of their bags five times, I’d die. A slow painful death mind you.

But I digress.

It has been a goal of mine since I realized my life was shifting into the “settling down” phase to greatly increase my ability to be patient. A big point of emphasis is around not being the Dad who yells about everything my kids do that drives me nuts (good luck, right?)

The other day I was walking to the train, heading home from a long day when I overheard an older woman talking about traffic. “I just don’t have the patience to be sitting in traffic, so I take the train!”, she said very matter-of-factly to her friend — who nodded in agreement.

I puffed my chest out, just slightly. I’ve been driving the majority of my commute to the office for the last 4 months and haven’t ONCE yelled at someone. Mrs. Pickle would even agree, that is quite a feat! I have been the example of patience and it was my turn to be proud about it. I have even shown a lot more patience with old Mother Pickle, who knows just what to say to really get me going.

“Ah, this poor old woman can’t even stand to drive and look at me, being all patient about it”, I thought to myself while smiling a wry smile that would have made my future self reach back in time and slap me.

At that point I firmly believe God just needed some entertainment and I was apparently pleading to be put back in my place. Shortly after this I jumped into the family Jeepster to start my journey home.

The World’s Longest Journey Home. Ever.

I hit every stop light on dead red. Hey, that’s ok. I have the tools to cope with this. I have patience!

Cars cut me off, in a construction zone, four times. That’s really not a big deal, because my patience is strong!

I got stuck behind Grandma Jill and Aunt Gloria, each in their respective mini-vans, and each going all of 15 mph. In a 45 mph zone. I tailgate each of them, trying to scare them into submitting to my overwhelming need for speed. It doesn’t work. I settle on trying this patience thing out again. It isn’t as fun as I thought.

Finally, what I consider to be a female college student accelerated in order to keep me from getting into my turn lane. I was a car length ahead of her, went to slide over, and BOOM! There she was. Ok, now patience can take a seat next to the rat’s you-know-what I just tossed into the back of the Jeep. It’s on.

Epic fail. I don’t want to get into the details of my actions from that point on, but I quickly realized I had bombed my patience test. Back to the drawing board dude.

Now a few days into my retrospective, I can say that this is the fun part of life. Just when you really feel you have a grasp on it, the slimy booger slips a little further from reach. It definitely keeps you on your toes. For now, I am running with this motto:

It’s not the quantity of patience you use, but the quality.

I am shooting for short spurts of really incredible patience. Baby steps.

Oh, uh… speaking of baby steps. Please Lord give me more patience.


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