Last evening, as Richard and I sat at our usual spot in the café, drinking our cappuccino, he turned to me with a sigh. “Bob, this promotion would mean everything. With it, I could finally afford that apartment uptown I’ve dreamed about but everything’s moving too slow.  I need it now.”

I nodded, “Richard, I know how much this means to you. Sometimes, the things we want most need time to unfold. Rushing the process can leave us unprepared when it finally happens. Think of it like growing a tree. You plant the seed, water it and trust it’ll grow when it’s ready. If you force it, you risk losing what you’re working so hard for.”

He sighed again, “What if waiting costs me the chance?”

“Richard,” I replied gently, “you’re thinking about time as a barrier when it could be a gift. You’re in such a hurry to get that dream apartment and the promotion, but slowing down could mean you’re far more prepared when it all falls into place. If you’re constantly looking at what’s missing, you’ll overlook what you already have that’s positioning you for that next step. What if this time is teaching you resilience, focus, and maybe the skills you’ll need once you’re in that role?”

He looked at me, “So, you’re saying patience isn’t just waiting around, then?”

“Exactly,” I nodded. “Patience is learning to appreciate where you are right now, not just for the lessons but also to enjoy the journey. When you’re ready, and the time is right, that apartment, that role—they’ll be there. But only if you give yourself space to grow into them.”

As Richard leaned back, he smiled and said, “Thank you, Bob. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”I smiled too, and we ordered a couple of sandwiches and some nachos.

Dearest readers, patience isn’t passive; it’s the quiet confidence that what’s meant to be will come—not in our time but in the right time. And in that process, you’ll discover that the journey itself often has more to teach than the destination ever could.