On Patience. In Both Beauty and Writing

Photo courtesy of Shantelle Paul

Recently, I made a disastrous decision. I took matters of hair colour into my own hands. I was impetuous, trying to save both time and money. It left me with a horribly brassy, splotchy colour and feeling like a cheater: after all, I have been seeing my stylist Shantelle for nearly twenty years, and she is simply wonderful.  

I am a highly patient person—but only when it comes to others. When it pertains only to me, I rush, ignore consequences, and, like a five-year-old with only days until Christmas Eve, have a hard time waiting. 

Writing equally tests my patience. This past August, I wrote 38,000 words of a novel, and this past week, I contributed only 2,000 to my latest manuscript. Writing cannot be forced. Some scenes come to me when I am in the middle of another task on days when I have no intentions of writing. 

Equally, nature is living proof that beauty abounds when patience does. Simply look around: the golds and reds of autumn, high tide, spring's early buds, a spider's intricate web.

The maxim that good things come to those who wait is originally attributable to British author Violet Fane, and it rings true in most domains of my life. By extension, there are generally no honourable shortcuts in life, and strong results cannot be forced. Thank goodness, though, for the editing process and for fabulous hair stylists!