CFC Blog #205: Are We There Yet?
One word started ringing in my mind as I was reading Rob's piece below. Detachment. After finishing Michael Singer's "The Untethered Soul," I've found myself repeatedly coming back to many of its lessons and notions of wisdom that have stuck with me, and I've felt so constantly grounded in these ideas over time. Rob's intriguing words and analysis of the depth that the word "patience" may hold reminds me of the power of letting go from this transformative book, and not feeling too attached to anything... to simply let more flow through and not let energy become blocked in one space, or an energy center... the chakra. Michael Singer wrote, "You either let go or you don't. There really isn't anything in between so let all of your blockages and disturbances became the fuel for the journey. That which is holding you down can become a powerful force that raises you up."
Thank you for this powerful share, Rob. You've provoked so many thoughts.
- Amanda
Are We There Yet?
It seems like everybody’s asking us to be patient right now.
We seem to have a very strange relationship with patience. We’re told patience is a virtue – that the ability to calmly wait for something without becoming upset is a trait of a good person.
But we’re also taught that impatience is a motivator to innovation. We applaud the entrepreneurs who invent better ways to do things because they couldn’t accept the inefficient processes required to complete some task.
But whenever you’re asked to have patience, you know you’re being asked to tolerate some level of discomfort.
“All our operators are busy; we appreciate your patience.”
“You’ve met all the requirements for the promotion, but we’re not ready to promote you yet. Be patient.”
“I know you want to get back to normal life. Now is not the time. Be patient.”
So, is patience just an attitude? A tolerance for discomfort?
I don’t think it is.
One of my spiritual mentors used to say that patience isn’t just waiting for things to get better. It’s not some psychological game of grin and bear it. It’s not suppression. He would tell me that patience is a power, an art, that gives you an advantage when its practiced well.
Buddhists speak of patience as kshanti, which is a combination of patience (sitting through discomfort), forbearance (restraint), and forgiveness. In this idea, patience is the art of knowing that things will change – but not knowing how or when – and being OK with living in the unresolved wonder of the question. Put more simply: Patience is the art of knowing how to wait.
About a month ago, I was speaking with a colleague who was getting antsy about his ability to get things moving with his team. The current crisis (and directives from senior management) compelled him to wait. But waiting was making him impatient and angry. It reminded me of what my mentor had said to me and I asked him the same two questions he asked of me. The first question was whether he was emotionally holding onto something that waiting would make less likely (preconceived growth goals that waiting would make less achievable, for example).
The second question was whether there are activities during this “waiting” for which he feels like he isn’t fully present. Like, for me, It can be really hard to enjoy the book I’m reading in the waiting room when your doctor is running 90 minutes late for your appointment.
But, I believe that we have choices.
We can let go of the thing we’re holding onto, or we can tighten our grasp. We can choose to be more present in activities that occur during “the wait” or we can choose to not be. I have come to realize that making better choices here can range from incredibly easy to extraordinarily difficult. Choosing to let go of my desire to eat at exactly 7:30 p.m. and be more present in the online tutorial I’m working through instead of being angry at the pizza delivery that’s late is relatively easy. Letting go of my attachment to the money my current client has promised me while they internally debate starting a project is a hell of a lot more challenging.
What I’ve discovered is that a critical piece is giving myself the gift of time to wait, contemplate, and let go. Yes, funny enough I find practicing the art of patience actually requires patience.
As with any artistic endeavor, practice is what makes us better. And boy am I practicing a lot these days. So my suggestion is start with something small. I’m going to give that new TV show more than thirty seconds before I pick up my phone. I’m going to resist judging that article for a while after I’ve read it. If my food delivery is late, I’m going to try and put 100% of my presence on something else while I wait.
I’m going to try and take a moment to allow things to be unresolved.
What I’ve found is that patience isn’t waiting in the absence of action. It’s using the wait to better understand how to act.