A Trait of Virtue

I bit the inside of my lip and held my keys tightly in my hand. “Breath Molly,” I coaxed myself with determination to hold onto any small strand of patience I had left. Ten minutes had passed, and clearly I was ready to go. I knew she was hurrying. I knew she was aware of my frustrations. I knew she didn’t stall in any effort to irritate me. I knew all of this, yet my inability to be patient for any long period of time was overtaking me.

Impatience lay engraved in my character and like a toxin it swam freely and continuously through my veins. At times, my senses held me down in my concepts of right and right, and orientation of time and space. My senses played the role of a voice of reason and were the anecdote to my disease of impatience.

I have always lacked an understanding of where my great inability to sit still, my constant need to be on the go, and my fidgety nature have stirred from. Surely I did not attain my uptight mannerism from my dad who holds a “hang loose” attitude on life. And my mom, although more structured in her schedules than my father, does not remotely compare to me with my need to pick up and run.

Maybe on a deeper level, my lack patience is a virtue rather than an inconvenience. Although many times my impatience has landed me in arguments with friends and family, it has also proved a beneficial aspect of my life. Like a driving force, impatience provides me with a strong want and desire to achieve, attain, and succeed in every aspect of my life. Maybe this trait of impatience, though it holds flaw-like qualities is really a blessing in disguise. My impatience, though sometimes a pain, continues to be a driving force in my life and is a quality that pushes me to be all I can be.