Patience

I did not lose my patience today, and for that I congratulate myself.

It seemed like such the thing to do. I have previously (and perhaps too frequently, I might add) lost my patience with someone's tone of voice (too whiny, too falsetto, too flat), with people encroaching on my bubble (just because it is a public computer doesn't mean I have no qualms with you watching me google search or write emails), and especially with things that make me wait. I hate waiting. When I get it in my mind to do something, I want it done. No where is this particular catalyst for my annoyance more sharp than when I drive. Everyone knows (or ought to) that the "speed limit" really means a minimum of five over (ten on freeways). That's just sense. So why is that biker passing you on the right?

About a week ago, I got it into my head that I needed to start exercising more. I am up at 6:30 ever day, I teach at 8:00, and I'm done by 9:00. As part of my newly self-enforced regimen, the hour between 9:00 and 10:00 a.m. is dedicated to a 30-minute elliptical session (I hate running) at the gym, allowing time to change, stretch, and shower. To my own amazement--mostly due to a usual lack of self-discipline--I haven't missed a day yet.

This morning, a friend who works out at the same gym forgot her wallet at home. Translation: No ID, no entrance. I laughed at her but sympathized as she fumed and flustered about, making plans to return home for it. "I would just consign myself to skipping," I thought, had our situations been reversed. My class ended, I pocketed my cell phone, keys, and iPod, and walked down the hill toward my parked car and the gym. After retrieving my gym bag from the car, I contentedly proceeded toward the front doors of the gym, and there stopped short. I had forgotten my wallet (read: ID). "Shucks," I said aloud. And I turned back to the hill toward Ellis Hall. Ten minutes later, I was changing in the locker room.

A moment's disappointment, sure, at having to walk back to where I had just been. But other than that, I felt no frustrations at being 20 minutes behind my normal schedule. Though I hate trekking up that hill every day, having to surmount it twice in one morning didn't bother me. For some inexplicable reason, I had all the patience in the world.

Let me tell you, it's a good feeling.