Francis Bacon said an incredibly challenging thing: “Whoever is out of patience is out of possession of their soul.” The grace to wait patiently for that which is worth waiting for – and to know the difference – sometimes seems impossible; and yet as T.S. Eliot points out, “For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.”
I have learnt that waiting is so often a matter of definition and perspective. Anna Neagle puts it well, “…if we learn to think of it as anticipation, as learning, as growing, if we think of the time we spend waiting for the big things of life as an opportunity instead of a passing of time, what wonderful horizons open out!” It seems to lie in the realization that patience is, in the words of Auguste Rodin, also a form of action.
And so I find myself seeking to adopt what Ralph Waldo Emerson called “the pace of nature”. According to him her secret is patience.