As I sat tonight at home and waited the word that came to me was patience. Again I thought, “ Too obvious and another one word.”
Yet perhaps one word makes it like a command and for the hearer to interpret as they will.
Recently I have found myself brought back to a neighbour’s home. It was around 1977 and their grandson visited often so often that we became friends. He was having a birthday party and I was invited. In those days it was rare in my experience for someone to have a party. They lived on the other side of town which meant I had to get a lift. We didn't have a car so I had gone round to the neighbour's at an agreed time, parked myself on an armchair and waited with my present on my lap.
That is my first recall memory of waiting. In that waiting, I was learning patience, that things don’t always happen as I would like.
I had to wait to be old enough to join the Playscheme at aged 7 but I was impatient as I thought I was missing out.
I couldn't wait to be a man that I had to smoke at an early age followed by drinking and a bit later sexual activity. All because I couldn’t wait, I hadn't learnt patience.
Of course, there are reasons we want to rush ahead and not fully live the experience of the now that is why every kid needs a good teacher.
The old chestnut comes to mind. We so wanted to have it that we prised it open before its time and spoiled it. Somewhere along the way, I learned by being patient would be worth the wait.