I looked up the definition of patience today and something interesting came up. The definition stated that patience is the state of endurance under difficult circumstances.The first question I asked myself is; “What does patience feel like?” I’ve been patient countless times, so I think, but what description could I give to the feeling? Is patience what you feel as you’re at your local deli waiting in line for the pound of honey mesquite turkey that you’ve ordered continuously but yet seem to have to wait for every time? Is patience the feeling you have when you’ve applied to endless jobs but yet continue to receive responses that state your lack of qualification? Is patience the taste of salty tears as you sit on the floor defeated by frustration? If I have been patient on numerous occasions I want to be able describe it vividly. I want to say that patience is a sunset that creeps above the skyline every morning that awaits the opening of eye lids in order to distribute promises that will eventually come to pass. I want to say patience is the conversation I have with the man who works at the deli where I actually pay attention to his response when I ask him how he’s doing rather than anxiously thinking to myself “Can he hand me my purchase already.” I want to say patience is kind and calm but it’s really ambivalent and harsh and sometimes devastating. I want to say that patience is a virtue but everyone is always in such a rush that I feel like we often forget how to be virtuous. And I want to apologize for getting so frustrated with patience because it just wants to remind me to slow down but sometimes I just can’t. As much as I want to I need for patience to show me something, anything that will let me know that my efforts aren’t in vain because sometimes life just gets so heavy.