Two weeks ago, my computer started acting funky, and I whipped myself into a frenzy over all I would not be able to do: Zoom calls with clients, emailing, bookkeeping. I called up Apple Care and spoke with a woman I’ll call Jamie. Unlike most remote computer repair experiences, Apple has the customer “drive,” guided by a technical support engineer who talks you through the process.
For 14 hours, sprinkled over four days, Jamie and I worked together to try to fix my computer, which proved to be an endless game of patience for me. As an East Coaster and Gen-Xer, patience isn’t exactly my strong suit.
During the many reboot-and-wait games Jamie and I played over the course of two weeks, I marveled at Jamie’s patience. Not only was she dutifully looking for all the ins and outs of my computer problems remotely, but she also managed to do it by directing my every hand gesture, talking me through each step as I clicked and scrolled my way through the process. Not once did she ever show frustration in working with such a neophyte.
Rather, Jamie giggled at every mishap. She grew curious when we’d reach a dead end. She encouraged me through every exasperated sigh and every doomsday outcome I had for my computer. “Don’t you worry,” she said multiple times, “I’m staying with you until we figure this out.” It took us two weeks, four multiple-hour sessions together, and a handful of emails, and Jamie was there for me the whole time, level-headed and kind at every turn.
When I asked her how she was able to be so patient, she replied, “That’s easy. I have two teenage sons with special needs. One just had a recent violent episode and was released from the hospital where he was being treated. But that’s ok. I’m just glad he’s home.” The more details Jamie shared of her personal journey as a mom, the weaker and weaker my little computer drama seemed in comparison, and the more otherworldly her patience seemed–an earth angel in the flesh.
I should mention that my computer is not only working again, but it’s better than ever. I could never have gotten there without Jamie or her patience.
In our time together, I learned that patience is a game of self-management, curiosity, presence and grace. When we channel our frustration into curiosity, there’s no telling what you can uncover. By moving beyond impatience and the anxiety of not knowing an outcome, we open the door to being pleasantly surprised. And in the process, we develop our ability to stay with the present moment with acceptance and grace–no matter how uncomfortable.
This week, I challenge you to uncover some of the lessons of patience. Maybe it’s with your own kids or family. Maybe it’s with your job or a coworker. Or maybe it’s with yourself and a life transition. Whatever you’re doing or not doing, practice accepting where you’re at, no matter how challenging it may be. Wonder about the discomfort and dig deeper. Giggle at the imperfections. Take lots of breaths. Be ready for surprises. And may we all have the beautiful, graceful and angelic patience of Jamie.