Sundays are a day of ritual. For my brother and me, Sundays will always include brunch at a local cafe. We have our favourite table, our orders tweaked slightly from the official menu, and the staff know us well. This Sunday past however, our routine was slightly off and we ended up going about 45 minutes later than usual. That 45 minutes made a huge difference. There were no seats and it would be at least another 15 minutes until we would get one. I decided I couldn’t wait. As we walked outside I could feel the muscles in my shoulders and neck tighten, and expressions of anger began to flow from my lips – “We should be able to reserve a seat. Who are those other people? Do they go there every week? How dare they!” I was visibly angry and tense, much to my brother’s amusement.
Why? Why couldn’t I wait? Why did I get so annoyed? I can’t help but wonder if it’s because I’ve become so used to instant gratification. If I want something I can’t buy locally, I can go on Amazon and have it delivered to my door the next day. If I want to find out the population of China, I’ll have the information on my phone and in my hands 10 seconds later. It seems like everything can be bought, everything can be personalised to suit my needs, everything can be obtained in an instant. The more we get, the more we want, and the more dissatisfied we become with what we have. Albert Camus portrayed powerfully this phenomenon in the character of the emperor Caligula, who becomes such a malcontent despite all that he has, that he goes out and tries to capture the moon: “The world as it is is unbearable. That’s why I need the moon, or happiness, or immortality, or something…”
These unrealistic desires that are caused by having too much all at once, can lead us to put unrealistic expectations on other people. I expected the owners of the cafe to keep ‘my’ table on Sunday, and for all the other customers to be aware that I would require a seat at an unspecified time. We lose patience with strangers and friends alike because they do not live up to our high expectations of reality. In preparation for this blog post, I did a few searches on what annoys people most, and I noticed that many of the annoyances were due to impatience. For example, The Independent’s “These Are The 50 Most Annoying Things About Modern Life,” had amongst the top-ranked irritations the following: computers freezing, slow WiFi, getting stuck in traffic, public transport delays, and waiting on the phone for doctors. Half of the top 10 were issues of impatience.
There is something to be said for rituals of the religious type. Attending church, praying and meditating are all excellent means of setting aside feelings of impatience. They slow us down and create a separation between our true selves and our unfulfilling and unhelpful desires for more. They, in theory, should help us practise patience. When, for example, St. Josemaria Escriva received a complaint that Mass was too long, he replied: “You say the Mass is too long, I say your love is too short.”
There is, therefore, one antidote to impatience – Love. The next time the you feel the person in front of you at the check-out is taking too long to pack their bags, don’t tweet about it. Don’t get angry because you get home 1 minute later than you would have liked. That minute is only wasted if you choose not to love. It is only wasted if you choose to hold onto your negative feelings. Give the person a smile instead. Maybe they’ve had a rough day. Or offer to help them. Don’t ruin that extra minute, and beyond, by holding onto a trivial annoyance. Practise patience with others, and with yourself. If you have to wait 15 minutes for a seat, wait. Or, hold onto the annoyance, and go home hungry and angry as I did.