Learning patience
04/02/15 05:30
I don’t think that the word “patient” has often been used to describe me. For much of my life I have been annoyed with delays, frustrated with having to wait, and impatient with those who can’t or don’t meet deadlines. Although I’m not prone to yelling at others, I have raised my voice and expressed my frustrations. And, of course, family members have seen a bit more of this frustration than I display in public.
Aging, however, has granted me a modest amount of grace about such things. Perhaps patience is a gift of having survived multiple decades of this life. More likely it is a skill that requires more than a small amount of practice.
We’ve been rushing around to get ready to attend a conference this week. Leaving town always requires a bit of hectic preparation. There are certain things that are parts of our job that we simply need to do. When we travel or take vacations, what doesn’t get done before our departure needs to be accomplished when we return. So we sort of double up on some chores. There are other jobs that can be delegated, but delegating jobs involves making sure that the person who is covering for you has what is required to get the job done. And, in our technological world, there are e-mail auto-replies and voice mail messages to be put in place so that people get appropriate responses to their communications.
So yesterday was an appropriately busy day. In the midst of working my way through a somewhat longer than usual to-do list, I had the usual meetings and appointments. Early in the day I had an appointment related to my volunteer work as a Sheriff’s Chaplain. The person I was to meet was running late and I took a seat in a waiting room. As I sat, I sorted through a few e-mail messages on my phone and then realized that I had nothing to do while I waited. I remembered that the person whom I was scheduled to meet had tried to get our meeting scheduled a half hour later, but that I had insisted on the earlier time because I had another meeting at the later time. It occurred to me that the person was rushing precisely because of the inflexibility of my schedule. I waited about 10 minutes.
Later in the day I was rushing a bit to get to another appointment only to discover that they were running late. Another ten minutes - this time in a room that was filled with magazines, though I admit there were none that I would subscribe to or that particularly held my interest.
Both times, however, instead of getting irritated, I simply accepted the gift of a few minutes of quiet for reflection in the midst of a very busy day. When we get too busy, we often shortcut silence and meditation. We are often less thoughtful about our actions - and about our relationships with others. When, as was the case in both places, the person I was to meet apologized for being late, I was able to say that it was no problem. And I was able to genuinely mean it.
When a colleague was a bit late for a meeting, I didn’t feel angry or inconvenienced at all. It simply is a part of life that not everything can be timed to the exact minute.
You can look at a delay as a nuisance or as a gift of a few minutes of quiet. It is a perspective that I simply didn’t possess a couple of decades ago.
It is an interesting effect. On the one hand, it seems like time is more precious now that I am aware that I’m long past the midpoint of my life. I have only so many more years left. Although I have no idea of the span of my life, it is short enough that I know how precious my time in this life is. And it is a finite commodity. I won’t go on forever. There is an awareness of this that I don’t remember from the days when I was in my twenties, for example. In those days death was something reserved for people who were older, or less careful, or less lucky than I. I didn’t think about my own death and I’m not sure that I even really believed that I was mortal. I focused on what I could do, not on my limits.
Life is different now. Time is precious.
Still, I think I am more patient and more able to wait than I was when I was younger. Perhaps it is because I have learned the value of a few minutes to sit quietly and reflect on what is happening. Perhaps it is because I have learned that getting upset about things I cannot control is a supreme waste of time. I raise my blood pressure and get nothing for my performance except more stress.
Sometimes I wish I had learned to wait a bit earlier in my life. Then again life lessons aren’t something that can be rushed. Perhaps I simply had to wait to learn the things that come only from experience.
I’m heading into a few days of meetings and workshops and large group sessions. Some of the leaders and presenters will be inspiring and have new information to share. Some will be re-hashing old information that I’ve heard many times before. Some will be inexperienced enough to not realize that their exciting new idea isn’t new at all and that some of us have been aware of it for decades. What I take from these meetings and workshops will be dependent, in a large part, upon the attitude I take to them. I plan to approach them with openness, a sense of participation, and, hopefully, the grace to accept the time for what it is - a break from the usual, a chance to reflect, and an opportunity to share with colleagues.
Sometimes I’ve prayed the serenity prayer without being able to get much past “God grant me the patience!” Perhaps this week I’ve learned not only to ask for the patience, but to express my gratitude for the moments that have required that patience.
Aging, however, has granted me a modest amount of grace about such things. Perhaps patience is a gift of having survived multiple decades of this life. More likely it is a skill that requires more than a small amount of practice.
We’ve been rushing around to get ready to attend a conference this week. Leaving town always requires a bit of hectic preparation. There are certain things that are parts of our job that we simply need to do. When we travel or take vacations, what doesn’t get done before our departure needs to be accomplished when we return. So we sort of double up on some chores. There are other jobs that can be delegated, but delegating jobs involves making sure that the person who is covering for you has what is required to get the job done. And, in our technological world, there are e-mail auto-replies and voice mail messages to be put in place so that people get appropriate responses to their communications.
So yesterday was an appropriately busy day. In the midst of working my way through a somewhat longer than usual to-do list, I had the usual meetings and appointments. Early in the day I had an appointment related to my volunteer work as a Sheriff’s Chaplain. The person I was to meet was running late and I took a seat in a waiting room. As I sat, I sorted through a few e-mail messages on my phone and then realized that I had nothing to do while I waited. I remembered that the person whom I was scheduled to meet had tried to get our meeting scheduled a half hour later, but that I had insisted on the earlier time because I had another meeting at the later time. It occurred to me that the person was rushing precisely because of the inflexibility of my schedule. I waited about 10 minutes.
Later in the day I was rushing a bit to get to another appointment only to discover that they were running late. Another ten minutes - this time in a room that was filled with magazines, though I admit there were none that I would subscribe to or that particularly held my interest.
Both times, however, instead of getting irritated, I simply accepted the gift of a few minutes of quiet for reflection in the midst of a very busy day. When we get too busy, we often shortcut silence and meditation. We are often less thoughtful about our actions - and about our relationships with others. When, as was the case in both places, the person I was to meet apologized for being late, I was able to say that it was no problem. And I was able to genuinely mean it.
When a colleague was a bit late for a meeting, I didn’t feel angry or inconvenienced at all. It simply is a part of life that not everything can be timed to the exact minute.
You can look at a delay as a nuisance or as a gift of a few minutes of quiet. It is a perspective that I simply didn’t possess a couple of decades ago.
It is an interesting effect. On the one hand, it seems like time is more precious now that I am aware that I’m long past the midpoint of my life. I have only so many more years left. Although I have no idea of the span of my life, it is short enough that I know how precious my time in this life is. And it is a finite commodity. I won’t go on forever. There is an awareness of this that I don’t remember from the days when I was in my twenties, for example. In those days death was something reserved for people who were older, or less careful, or less lucky than I. I didn’t think about my own death and I’m not sure that I even really believed that I was mortal. I focused on what I could do, not on my limits.
Life is different now. Time is precious.
Still, I think I am more patient and more able to wait than I was when I was younger. Perhaps it is because I have learned the value of a few minutes to sit quietly and reflect on what is happening. Perhaps it is because I have learned that getting upset about things I cannot control is a supreme waste of time. I raise my blood pressure and get nothing for my performance except more stress.
Sometimes I wish I had learned to wait a bit earlier in my life. Then again life lessons aren’t something that can be rushed. Perhaps I simply had to wait to learn the things that come only from experience.
I’m heading into a few days of meetings and workshops and large group sessions. Some of the leaders and presenters will be inspiring and have new information to share. Some will be re-hashing old information that I’ve heard many times before. Some will be inexperienced enough to not realize that their exciting new idea isn’t new at all and that some of us have been aware of it for decades. What I take from these meetings and workshops will be dependent, in a large part, upon the attitude I take to them. I plan to approach them with openness, a sense of participation, and, hopefully, the grace to accept the time for what it is - a break from the usual, a chance to reflect, and an opportunity to share with colleagues.
Sometimes I’ve prayed the serenity prayer without being able to get much past “God grant me the patience!” Perhaps this week I’ve learned not only to ask for the patience, but to express my gratitude for the moments that have required that patience.