I Know, I Know, It's a Virtue

"I guess that's why they call us 'patients,'" my husband observed. We'd been sitting in the doctor's office half an hour past his appointment. We watched a parade of other patients file in and out until, at last, it was his turn. We wondered how "patient" doctors are when they have to wait to see a doctor themselves.

Why is patience such a difficult thing to master?

I am a Type A personality, and patience has always been a challenge. I get frustrated waiting behind the elderly person in the bank who chatters away with the teller about her family, her garden, her aches and pains. It is torture for me to sit in traffic that is creeping along at 15 miles an hour. And I begin to hyperventilate when I have to explain to the third nimrod at my cell phone company that they are not entitled to a late charge because I have a cancelled check that proves they received my payment on time.

I don't know why I'm wired this way, but I've observed I'm not in the minority. Last night, we were trying to cross the street after dinner. We were in the crosswalk, the signal indicated it was okay for us to go, but cars turning left didn't want to wait and, in the game of chicken that's played every day a million times around the world, they zoomed past us. The worst offender was an elderly lady who braked at the last minute. My husband waved her on and yelled, "Go on, you're in a big ass hurry." She looked straight ahead and plowed on. And turned into the gas station. Apparently, her getting gas at that exact moment was the most important thing in the world.

Then there was the guy behind me in our local discount drug store. I hate shopping there because the people who frequent the place behave abominably. (What is it about cheap prices that brings out the worst in folks?) Anyhow, we were in line, and there was a woman in one of those carts for people with disabilities. She had a small child on her lap and was maneuvering her way to the checkout. It took her maybe an extra five seconds to work it out. The guy behind me was muttering under his breath the whole time. The woman completed her purchases and asked the cashier if she could get assistance to her car. At that point, the guy behind me became apoplectic. I turned to him and said softly, "Would you just chill out?!" Did no good. In all, the extra time the cashier had to spend helping the woman was less than a minute. But even if it had been five minutes, what was this man missing out on that was so important?

And that's where it comes back to me. Considering his bad behavior, I had to think about my own. Even though I was not vocal, was I just as bad for getting worked up over having to wait? Where was I going in such a hurry? Was I on my way to cure cancer or save the world from global disaster?

Of course not. I was just on my way back to work or home or to another errand. I could have spent the extra few minutes planning dinner or counting my blessings or just taking the time to breathe and relax. Time is a luxury. We take it for granted, but we don't know how much of it we have left on this earth. Pretty much everything in my world can wait an extra few minutes without dire consequences.

So this has become my mission. To work on slowing down just a little. To remember that the elderly lady in the bank is probably going home to an empty house, and the teller may be the only one she talks to today. That the slow traffic could be because of an accident, and how fortunate I am not to have been involved. As for the idiots at the cell phone company, I held my tongue, and the lady I ultimately spoke with was able to resolve my problem and was pleasant and professional. She did good.

I'll continue to work on being patient. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to smile placidly and say, "No, that's okay, you jumped the line but I'm good with it."

I guess I'm not going to inherit the earth anytime soon. But maybe I can enjoy a smiling baby or a colorful sunset while I'm waiting.