Letter To Patience

Dear Patience,

Today, completely out of the blue, and with no apparent reason - you showed up.
You gently sat in my heart, felt its calm breaths no matter the outside pressure, and hypnotized me with a sense of calmness that was quite... NEW.
I don't believe I've ever felt your presence like I did today.
Actually, I don't think I ever felt your presence.
Was this our first encounter, Patience?

You surely didn't grace me with your presence in my childhood, or in my teens.
As you'd expect - growing up in a conflicted area such as Israel; experiencing wars, constant threats, and suicide bombings... is no walk in the park. 
I often romanticize my childhood because there were also loads of magic in it, but the constant survival threat the country faced affected all its inhabitants. Me included.
Only years later I realized how deeply I adapted the belief that 'the world is out to get me, I may day tomorrow, so Carpe Diem or die trying!'
There was simply no room for you, dear patience, with that belief running in my mind. 

You were not there in my 20s either: I was mostly busy surviving brutal winters in New York and doing my best chasing dreams around - naively not knowing they were all along inside of me - and the fast pace of the city easily made me forget about your existence. 
Does anyone in New York City know you, Patience!? I wonder.

People used to remind me of you. They'd urge me to invite you over. And I would roll my eyes and utter grunts in response. 'Thanks, no thanks' type responses.
I must confess: I used to hear your name and actually be irritated.
Yes, you were a source of annoyance, of irritation, and even at times... of RAGE. 
Perhaps I should have started meditating years sooner? Perhaps.

And out of the blue, TODAY you showed up like a breath of fresh air mumbling 'Hey, I think you are ready for me. I've been PATIENTLY waiting for this moment. Nice to finally meet you.'
Why TODAY? I wonder. 
It could be that enough years have gone by. That I now have reached enough maturity to join in a dance with you every once in a while. 
​How odd: ironically, it seems that the less time one has - the more one values it and as a result... becomes patient? 

Life never ceases to amaze me with its irony.

Thank you for that pleasant surprise, dear Patience. 

Until we meet again,

T.