Children are notoriously impatient. I was no exception. The car ride into Boston for holidays was excruciating, especially as dad had to take traffic ridden Route One and what was then the Sumner Tunnel. Sitting still for any length of time whether in a car or on a couch was difficult for me. Today, given the current parenting advice I might be labeled with some alphabet letters and perhaps given medicine. However in those days life was simpler and that kind of behavior wasn’t considered abnormal.
Because of this my most disliked punishment was not a spanking but being made to sit on the piano stool for fifteen or more long minutes. In addition I would be, “put on silence,” Which meant no conversation with anyone. It was difficult for me to learn to sit still. Once I when I was the only child at a very tedious adult afternoon tea I manufactured a case of hiccups so as to get some attention. My parents caught on to what I was doing and put a quick stop to it. Patience training begins early.
Fast forward to today: On Friday a few weeks ago, a big cardboard box appeared in the hall. Despite its weight, I lugged it in. “I think our exercise machine has come,” I told Stephen. “Good,” he said, “lets open it later.” He was busy as was I. Saturday and Sunday came and went. There were things to do and places to go. Occasionally one of us would say perhaps we might open it, yet it was never quite the right time.
On Monday a dear friend came for lunch. I mentioned the arrival of the exercise machine. “Can I see it?” she asked. “Sure,” I said, “no time like the present.” I opened the cardboard carton and started to lift out the machine. It wasn’t completely assembled. “Oh, let me help,” said our kind friend. She looked it over, lined up the parts, followed the instructions, and in very little time had it all done and in good working order.
How glad I was that we had waited. I’m sure we would have had to spend most of a day figuring out what went with what, where, and how. My clever friend had it put together in no time. There is wisdom in waiting for the correct moment, for that is when success is attained. The moment itself cannot be hurried, nor can its arrival be predicted. No amount of wishing or searching can affect this. Sometimes patience practice can be frustrating.
For example, no matter how hard we looked, Stephen and I found every place we’ve lived in Grafton by stumbling over it. Because none of our deliberate searches brought good results, we were forced to be patient. The practice of patience, like the practice of a musician, needs to be lifelong. Eventually it can be seen simply as a challenge rather than as a tedious bore. However, one must be patient because that ability comes only with plenty of practice.