“Dear Lord, I would like to be blessed with patience BUT GIVE IT TO ME NOW!”
I mutter this prayer often, especially when someone mentions having their Christmas tree up on October 1. But by the time Christmas Day rolls around, their tree is bald, defeated, and slumped on the curb, waiting for the trash pickup the next day. These folks beam with pride as they confess to finishing their holiday shopping before the Halloween candy aisle is replaced with stockings to be hung by the chimney with care.
As we kick off this new year, I find myself reflecting on how I’ve spent years chasing productivity and perfection – crossing things off lists and rushing toward the next task, holiday, or goal. But a recent tumble onto a cactus taught me a valuable lesson: life isn’t just about getting to the end. It’s about savoring the moments in between.
The Crosser-Outer
Let me introduce you to a particular breed of human: the Crosser-Outer. These folks live for the thrill of crossing things off a list, and they will let you know it. They are impatient with having a list with uncrossed-out items on it. They find relief when they can take that pen and cross something off, even going so far as to write something down that has already been done, just to savor a moment to cross it off.
When I was still teaching, these Crosser-Outers were perpetually put out by life. They’d sigh loudly in the teacher’s lounge, clutching their planner like a lifeline, and declare, “You wouldn’t understand; I’m just SO busy.” Really? Because the rest of us weren’t exactly sunning on chaise lounges sipping margaritas. We, too, were raising families, ferrying kids to a variety of commitments, and worrying about aging parents or grandparents. But I have been a Crosser-Outer my whole life, and I want to change.
Antici-Pointment
There’s a downside to this lifestyle, and it has a name: antici-pointment. It’s the tragic irony of getting so caught up in anticipation that you are disappointed that you’ve missed out on the joy of the moment itself. It stems from an internal impatience to conquer the dreaded to-do list.
Antici-pointment means you are convinced that getting things done will lead to happiness. You set up your Christmas tree in early November, not out of excitement, but out of pure panic that something – a snowstorm, an unexpected flu outbreak – might prevent you from enjoying it later.
By the time the actual holiday rolls around, you’re so burnt out from listening to Christmas songs, you couldn’t sing another la, la, or la.
Falling on a Cactus Near the Finish Line
I have always been in a rush to finish. That is, until I had a literal fall from grace – and onto a cactus.
It happened on a long, warm, spring hike in the desert Southwest. The scenery on the trail was stunning – towering saguaros, surprising wildflowers, and even petroglyphs – it was like something out of a National Geographic special.
But then, my brain did what it always does: it got ahead of itself because I was impatient for the next thing on my vacation checklist. I started thinking about the pool at our resort and the cold margarita that awaited me. Suddenly, the natural beauty around me paled in comparison to the promise of lime and just a bit of salt on the rim of a frosty glass.
I started speeding up, laser-focused on the rental car in the parking lot shimmering below me at the end of the trail. And that’s when it happened. My foot caught on a rock, and I went flying. Unfortunately, I didn’t land on soft sand. Nope. I landed squarely on a prickly pear cactus.
If you’ve never had the pleasure of falling onto a cactus, let me tell you: it’s an experience – not the “transformative, journaling about it later” kind, but the “screaming, crying, swearing loudly” kind. I ended up limping back to the car wearing my son’s T-shirt as emergency shorts.
The Lesson in the Pain
That tumble taught me something, though. My rush to get to the end had robbed me of the joy of the journey, and this wasn’t just about hiking. I’d been racing through life – holidays, projects, even finishing this article – just trying to get to the finish line. Falling on a cactus taught me about looking for the moments along the way – the pewter sky, the crunch of footsteps on the trail, and the laughter shared when you realize no one even notices that you are wearing a Darth Vader T-shirt instead of shorts.
And now that I’m older, I’ve started to notice something different. While everyone else gushes about the firsts – the first step, the first love, the first grandchild – I’ve become acutely aware of the lasts. In fact, I wrote an entire article for Sixty and Me about the poignancy of “lasts.” (Here’s the Last Laughs and Lessons if you’d like to read it.)
Slowing Down
So, I’ve decided it’s time to live life with less antici-pointment. And of course, I’m staying far, far away from prickly pear cacti. This year, I even gave myself permission to let go of the rush. The Christmas tree went up in mid-December – gasp! The gifts were wrapped when I felt like it. And you know what? The world didn’t end when my holiday cards didn’t get sent.
Because really, the best gift I can give – to myself and my loved ones – is the gift of presence, not presents. And if I find myself praying for patience and it doesn’t show up right away, that’s okay. I’m learning to wait.
Let’s Have a Conversation:
What is your take on being impatient? Where do you fall on the line between procrastinator and crosser-outer? Do you have advice for the rest of us? Do you ever have a “haste makes waste” story to share in the comments?
