Webster's defines being patient as "steadfast despite opposition, difficulty or adversity". It also says patience is not being "hasty or impetuous".
Now I'm definitely not hasty or impetuous. In fact, I may be accused on occasion of being too cautious. But for someone to ever call me patient - well, not likely. In fact, patience is a virtue that I never believed I could master. I even made it a New Year's goal for myself. And yet, after reading that definition, I'm now wondering if I've actually been practicing what I've been striving for all along. At least when it comes to my writing.
I've been writing for six years. I've worked and waited, gotten excited about possibilities, endured crushing disappointments, and somehow have kept on writing. Steadily. Patiently. I've kept writing. And while I've achieved some important personal goals and milestones along the way, for sure, I've definitely been the tortoise and not the hare in the grand race for publication. I've seen many others cross that finish line before me and cheered their success and I've told myself that one day I'll cross that finish line too. Maybe not in great fanfare or with thousands cheering me on but I'll cross it. In my own way and in my own time. With patience.
Wow. Maybe I really am patient. Huh. Who knew?
Now, if I could just manage to remember that when my kids forget to clean the kitchen for the thousandth time ...