Sometimes, we forget…

Sometimes, we forget to have patience.

We forget to have patience with our children. They are young and slow and unable to perform simple tasks. Maybe we need to get somewhere on time, and—as is typical of children—they are not in a hurry. Or perhaps they are not yet adept at the task at hand. Ever watch a young child tie a shoe? It can take f-o-r-e-v-e-r! We grow impatient, and we rush them, yell, or yank them out the door. Or maybe we are trying to teach them something or help with homework. They are not getting it, and we grow frustrated. We give up and let them struggle on their own, perhaps crying as they do so. Children are young and inexperienced with the ways of the world. With what they are learning… so many things And they need parents and caregivers to be patient so they can learn, feel nurtured, and grow their independence and confidence.

Sometimes, we forget to have patience with our coworkers, friends, and family members. Perhaps we asked someone to do something and they didn’t do it. We might have even reminded them. Or maybe they did it, but they didn’t do it the way we wanted them to. So we grow frustrated. We might know someone who has different views than we have. Rather than ask them about their views and the ideas and experiences they have had that have led them to their conclusions, we lash out, call them names, and “school” them in why they are wrong. We don’t engage and we definitely don’t compromise. We are right and they are wrong, and we don’t have the time to mess around in finding some mushy middle ground.

Sometimes, we forget to have patience with strangers. Someone cuts us off when we are driving, and we immediately honk our horn, flip the driver the bird, or get right on his bumper to teach him a lesson. If someone is too slow in the grocery line, even if it is the fault of the cashier or the manager, we stand in line and shift our weight, roll our eyes, and sigh or groan loudly.  When our restaurant order doesn’t come out fast enough, or the server forgets something, we are not nice. And if someone cold calls our phone with a promotional offer from a service we already use—or don’t—we hang up on them rather than politely declining.

Sometimes, we forget to have patience with ourselves. We think we should know something, but we have forgotten. We put something in that ever-elusive “safe place,” and now we can’t find it. We are taking too long to find something on the Internet or it takes us too long to get ready to leave the house. We forgot to do something. We forgot to call the doctor to make an appointment or write down which spice it was that we ran out of last Tuesday when we were cooking dinner. We grit our teeth and think we should know better.

Impatience is all around us. Sometimes, we forget that people make mistakes, that people have feelings, and that every situation offers us an opportunity to decide how to respond. We can be patient, or we can be impatient. The problem is, by being impatient, we miss out on an opportunity to connect with another person—family, friend, or stranger. Patience requires connection. It requires understanding. And it requires us to experience life in the present moment.

So be present. Make the connection. Have patience. It may take a little extra time, but it will be worth it.

Grace

This week was a challenging one for me. I am in that weird in-between time in my new job where I feel like I should know everything by now, and yet, I seem to know nothing. Well, not nothing really, but nearly nothing. It has been many years since I’ve started a new job. I worked in the same field with the same overall expectations for my entire career. And I was in the same institution for nearly the past two decades.

I’ve been in my new job in three months. Only three months… one of which included the end-of-year slow period when all the people I was trying to reach were too holidayed out to pay attention to what was going on at work.

And yet, I expect perfection. Of myself. I expect that I will be at full capacity and up to par with my colleagues. Or I am disappointed in myself.

So this week, amidst curve balls and strike-outs, canceled plans and overall impatience, I have decided to give myself some grace. I know that I am learning. I know that learning takes time. And I know that I’ll get there. I am working on the foundation, and if the foundation is solid, I can build from there.

The truth is, I would never expect anyone I work with, anyone I hired, or anyone I managed to be perfect at their job in three months. To know everything in three months. That would be a ridiculous expectation. But here we are…. Me with my impossible expectations of myself.

Examining how I would treat others is how I know I deserve grace. This is how I know I should be patient. This is how I know I should watch my self-talk. If I wouldn’t put this much pressure on someone else, I shouldn’t do it to myself.

Because I am learning. And learning is a process. I will reflect on my tasks and edit and adjust and try again. I will be willing to take risks and go out on a limb and try a different approach. I will recognize that building—or rebuilding—a program takes time and persistence. It requires forging relationships and tapping into resources. These three months have been a great beginning—but they are just that: the beginning.

Next week, and the week after that, I will give myself grace. And maybe with time, grace will become my normal.