HAVE A LITTLE PATIENCE

It’s time to find some tolerance

‘These days, I try to smile instead of swear’

This Christmas, Heidi Scrimgeour is asking us to find some tolerance – and even a bit of appreciation, too

I first realised I had a patience problem when I found myself stuck behind a slow-moving tractor on an Irish country road. Instead of appreciating an unscheduled moment to take in the view, I could barely contain my rage at being delayed. Imagine missing the wonder of that tranquil scene – actually, one of the exact reasons I moved here from London 12 years ago – because you’d rather get wherever you’re going a few minutes faster. I realised then how often my impatience rears its ugly head. Frequently, I find myself twitching with anger because something has slowed me down. The pedestrian who dawdles on the pavement when I’m dashing to the shop. The banking app that freezes when I’m paying a bill. And woe betide the barista who indulges in unhurried chat with the person ahead of me in the coffee queue.

Of course, we live busy lives and perhaps it’s understandable to feel frustrated when our time gets wasted. But I’ve become aware that it has serious implications. Held up by roadworks on the way to my six-year-old daughter’s swimming lesson recently, pent up and panicky, I started muttering uncharitable things under my breath. My daughter noticed, and encouraged me to apply a little patience to the situation – but children learn what they live, and I hate the thought of my impatience rubbing off on her.

At this time of year, patience wears especially thin. Endless queues at the tills wherever you go, online shopping orders that don’t get delivered on time and the pressure to measure up to impossible festive expectations can leave the best of us feeling short-tempered. Then there’s the deeper emotional impact: I hurry my husband through conversations that should be slow and soulful, barely suppressing the urge to check my watch when he talks about his day. I miss opportunities to engage with friends beyond hurried school gate exchanges because my inner impatience-o-meter says stopping for coffee will add too much pressure to my day. Worst of all, I snap at my children if they interrupt when I’m writing, even though I became a freelance journalist so I could fit my career around being a mum.

My own lack of patience stems from the fact that I cram so much into every day. There’s no room for manoeuvre. A few minutes stuck behind a tractor would be no big deal if it weren’t for the fact that on any given day I have three school runs and a deadline to meet. But when we approach life driven by impatience, we’re letting more bypass us than just a lovely view. We’re deadening our senses to what’s important; the things and people around us that are worthy of our attention. We must catch ourselves, before impatience drowns out everything else.

In a world that’s too busy, cultivating patience also helps restore us to ourselves. Why practise meditation or use a bullet journal if we’re numb to the natural opportunities to practise patience that life’s ‘inconveniences’ present – be they talkative baristas or dawdling pedestrians?

Although it’s not always easy, these days, I try to smile instead of swear when I’m stuck behind a tractor. I still feel impatience threatening to rise in these moments. But now I notice it, acknowledge it and try to walk my mind back from it. Like so many things, combatting the impatience epidemic is really about paying attention. When you do, you’ll reap the benefits. Author May Sarton puts it like this: ‘Everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature is a help.’ She’s right. The things we think of as hindrances can remind us to pause and tune in to ourselves and the world around us. Instead of letting my hackles rise when something inconveniences me, I try to welcome the chance to slow down and notice what’s surrounding me. That changes the dial on impatience. The dawdling pedestrian could probably use a smile instead of a tut. And that chatty barista is a hero in disguise, making time for people who might otherwise feel unseen.

So this Christmas, notice when you feel impatience rising. Welcome it. And dig a little deeper into your patience reserves. You’ll be glad you did.