Patience

It’s what we have least of when we need it the most. The future so enticing that waiting is practically unbearable, and the further we reach to grasp it, the further it drifts away. Time is slow and agonizing while we wait, when we yearn to be somewhere else but have to be here right now. Patience is what anchors us to the present through pain.

But patience is not always a virtue. It’s also what we have most of when we need it the least. The present so comfortable that change seems unbearable, and the more we resist adaption, the further we drift from our greatest potential. Just as we can be too eager, we can also be too forbearing. Patience is often just a masquerade for fear.

Too little patience can lead to shallow relationships and superficial experiences, as we never give the present the attention it deserves. Too much patience, however, can leave you with very few relationships and experiences at all. An overly patient life becomes hollow rather than shallow—discontented complacency disguised as depth.

The right moment is always a brief one. Act too soon and you might miss the richness of an unfolding condition. Act too late and the opportunity might slip away entirely. Regardless of when we choose to hold back or move forward, our choices should never stem from fear—fear of either change or commitment—instead, they should be guided by opportunity. Let patience be your ally in waiting, not your jailer when fortune knocks.