A while back, Husband and I stopped at a restaurant on the East Side for a drink before meeting friends for dinner. I ordered a glass of rose and he ordered some kind of rye whiskey. The waiter placed a glass in front of me, poured me a taste, and then placed the bottle down in front of me.
The name of the wine? Patience.
I looked at this word, and smiled as I sipped. The wine was delicious.
And as I drank it and talked with my man, I thought about patience. How it is one thing I wish I had far more of. Because, truth be told, I'm a very impatient person. I am a progress-monger. I want everything perfect and lovely and now.
I wonder: Is patience either something we have or don't? Is this a fixed part of our personality, our hard-wiring? Or is it something we can work on? I sincerely hope it's the latter.
Are you patient? Do you think we can become more patient and if so, how? Do you think life is riddled with messages it is our job to hear?