If patience weren’t so easily tried, it wouldn’t be a virtue.  Those were the wise words of a grandmother to her grandson in a novel I am reading and it tickled me so much that it has returned to my mind again and again. If it were easy, it wouldn’t be worth having.

My impatience is judgment of others (or myself, if I’m, to be honest about it).  Regardless of the object of my impatience, my feelings always sprout from my perceptions that things aren’t as I would have them.  My impatience is a telltale sign of my lack of acceptance of the way things are.

I’m working on developing patience in impersonal things like other drivers, discourteous strangers, irksome personalities.   It starts with my awareness of disquiet in my mind, and when I identify that, I consciously work on self-forgiveness for my patterns of learned behavior that I would like to rid myself of.