My Wait Problem

I move too quickly. Whether it is making decisions, sending email or, unfortunately, opening my mouth, I frequently find myself wishing I had waited just a few more minutes or even seconds. Patience is a virtue I am trying to cultivate, and it is extremely difficult.

The more I think about it, the more I think patience may be the cardinal virtue, especially for take action people like me. Yes, we must be kind and loving and giving and all that. However, to me, those are easier because I can do them. Not doing is far more difficult.

As I taught my younger child to drive, I realized that patience is the key to good driving and a lack of it causes many of the issues on the road. Remember that wonderful moment in the movie Starman when, after alien Jeff Bridges nearly causes an accident at an intersection, Karen Allen yells at him, “You said you watched me. You said you knew the rules.” His reply may be the mantra for many drivers. He tells her, “Red light stop. Green light go. Yellow light go – very fast.” Waiting may be the key to safety in the car.

As a teacher and a parent, I must learn to wait. I want my kids (my own children and my students) to succeed! Yet, learning is messy, complex, and most of all time consuming. It doesn’t happen in an instant. I have to be willing to let go, and allow them figure it out on their own, and I must wait.

Sitting at the gate before a flight, looking at the phone expecting a call, refreshing the email screen over and over can feel like wasting time. Speed is a modern virtue, but it is self-defeating. The faster I go, the faster I want to go. The more I get done, the more time I have to do more and more and more. Stop!

“Wait!” has also become a verbal tick, the new “um” or “like”. My students pepper their speech with "wait!" Perhaps the world is moving too fast for them. As I hear their interjections of, “wait,” I am reminded of small children trailing after their parents. Are kids struggling to keep up, and just begging us to wait?

Recently, my younger child was ill. It was not a serious illness by any means, but I had to stop myself from pestering him with questions about how he felt. I didn’t want to wait for the illness to go away. Waiting feels like powerlessness; I am giving up when I am waiting. Surrendering to my own powerlessness, stepping back and not taking action is far more challenging than calling doctors and administering medicines. The truth is that, when it comes to illness, what I really need is – wait for it – more patience!

One of my most challenging wait problems has another name: listening. Listening is not waiting to talk. Listening is not waiting for my turn. Listening  is being in the moment and not jumping ahead. A speaker at school turned wait into an acronym that stood for “Why Am I Talking”. It’s a good question. Often, it is just better to wait.

Perhaps that is why type A planners like me must learn to wait well – and why it is so difficult. We are always figuring out what comes next, and that may mean we miss now. Now is certainly as important as next. Now is all we really have, and next is just a potentially. Why sacrifice now for something that may not happen?

In one of my favorite books, Stranger in a Strange Land, by Robert Heinlein, the protagonist frequently responds to problems with the statement, “Waiting is…” It is just is. It isn’t doing; it isn’t planning. It just is. And that’s why I struggle with my wait problem.