I’m impatient, but I’m also patient. The older I get, the more I seem to become both. I can’t figure it out.
As a child, I remember wanting things: a new bike, my first cassette tape recorder, a camera, hifi equipment and more. In those days, we saved up, putting aside some pocket money each week or, when old enough to do paid Saturday and after-school jobs, saving my wages. But I was still impatient.
I was also impatient when waiting for visitors to arrive so parties could start or for presents to be given out on Christmas Day.
I still get impatient waiting for things to happen, although I know the importance of preparation and getting things right. From experience of amateur theatre and public speaking, I appreciate how much rehearsal is needed so that on the day a performance achieves the best possible result. It’s worth every minute of hard work learning lines and going through scenes again and again.
I’ve been working on an art project for 18 months, using certain items I find discarded on the beach and in the street. This morning, on the beach, I was thinking about how patiently I have been working on this, scouring the area for materials, sometimes feeling dejected when I go for weeks without finding anything. Only a few people have seen it and I won’t reveal it until it’s finished – I’m making a video documentary as I go along – but I’m impatient to get it finished and show it. I felt my patience had finally been exhausted and that I would never finish it – I’m 75% there – when suddenly I saw one of the items I use just sitting there on the sand, washed up by the tide. How did that happen?
[EDIT: Since originally publishing, I have found a second item on the same day. Amazing!]
It just proves that being patient works, even when we feel impatient.
The patience of preparation combined with the impatience of wanting something to happen make it all worthwhile.
I think that’s the case, but I still don’t understand it fully.