Patience
The Virtue of Patience My former boss used to tell me I had the thickest skin of any man he’d ever worked with. The truth? I don’t. Insults sting just as much as they do for anyone else. What I do have is patience—at least most of the time. Even then, I lose it more often than I’d like to admit. And the worst part is this: the people who see my impatience the most are usually the people I love. It’s strange how we reserve our roughest edges for the ones who give us the most security. We assume they’ll understand, forgive, and keep loving us—so we let ourselves unravel. But that’s not the way it should be. This Christmas, I’ll be on the road instead of home. I’ll spend the day practicing patience among men who, like me, are somewhere they don’t want to be. Men who want to be home with their families, in familiar places, with the people who matter. Instead, we’re here—waiting, frustrated, feeling the weight of distance. Patience becomes a survival skill. Life on the Road Teaches Pati...