Patience is not my virtue.

How many times have I been told patience is a virtue? It is obviously one I don’t possess. Persistence, yes. Persistence I can do. But not patience. Perhaps I’ve spent too much time organizing my kitchen supplies to just-in-time production standards or optimizing the process to transport my children to their various activities while simultaneously ensuring that their homework is correct and they consume a healthy dinner. I am obnoxiously over analytical.

This fault can be skewed as beneficial, especially in a job interview when asked for your greatest weakness. Many people value money, kindness, or empathy. I value efficiency. I want everything done correctly in the least possible time. Why? Because it is only then that the tiny voice in my head quiets down. I am not externally driven – it is completely internal.

Many of my friends have asked how I managed to write a book and I can’t answer the question. When the words congeal in my mind, I can not shut them down and vice versa, if they are not present there is no forcing them. My husband can attest to this because there are random note pads and pens everywhere from my gym bag to the shower. Sometimes ideas arrive at inconvenient moments.

But this process is not contained to my writing. Every large decision in my life is made this way. Sometimes I wonder if I’m a control freak, but the truth is I’m not in control at all. I prepare the path, throw in all of my effort to the best of my ability, and wait for my answer, generally impatiently. And when I know my answer, I know it. I grab my decision with both hands. 

This past week I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time at my computer, assembling a video trailer to accompany my manuscript. Since I know nothing about creating videos, it was a daunting task. But once I started working, there was no turning off my mind, not even to sleep or eat. It fell together of its own accord; I am simply the overexcited facilitator. Honestly, like the manuscript itself, I can’t believe that I produced it. After using a few of my friends as a focus group, I’m confident that anyone who chooses to watch it will not consider their two minutes wasted. But now I am forced to be patient. I anxiously await an email which I hope will bring permission to use the background music that I chose. 

Patience with other people is difficult for me. The voice in my head will not shut up because this decision is not internal. It prods me to be persistent, to fire off an email every hour, to push for closure, but my rational mind knows that doing so will only reduce my probability for success. So I will spend my Labor Day anxiously not laboring and attempt to relax.