Patience

By Asavari Awasthi

2020 was the year that taught me how to be patient. As part of an increasingly fast paced society, we get disappointed when our own progress/desires happen slower than the click of a button. This year, I really struggled with pushing for my own goals to manifest faster than they were, consistently seeing my efforts produce crumbs. It was like watching myself get punched in slow motion.

In 2020 I lost some amazing relationships, had some messy romantic affiliations, lost my lab position, and couldn’t get any other positions to fill in my needed research credentials. Despite the constant giving to other people, and endless lab emails asking for a research assistant position, I ended the year feeling pretty burned out. What was it that I was doing that simply wasn’t working? What did I need to do differently? That question constantly played with my increasing dissatisfaction. 2020 felt like the final phase of Jenga: the last block destroyed the stable pretty tower I had built for myself. More than depressed or angry, I felt uncomfortable. I liked my tower.

It wasn’t until late November that I started to see this “series of unfortunate events” differently. I had a conversation with my mom expressing my sheer disappointment in myself. She didn’t try to pat my shoulder, express puppy love validation, or sugar coat anything. She merely said, “You are still on the journey. You aren’t in a position where you can say you are successful or not. Things—big things—take time.”

Perhaps I was evaluating myself too harshly, and more importantly, too early in the game. Perhaps I was appraising myself when I didn’t even need to be. Because on the opposite side of this regular growth of self-pity were improved health issues, new and better friendships formed, amazing grades in my classes, and meeting one of my personal goals, starting a blog. As a 20- year-old working to get a doctorate, what more did I need in such a globally chaotic year? I could feel my shoulders lower and my muscles slightly loosen. Time wasn’t running out to succeed, I was simply in too much of a rush. And a journey, as much as I might try, can’t be rushed.

My perspective further changed as I was sitting at the airport on New Year’s Eve watching one of my favorite Youtubers, Ali Abdaal, talk about how his viewpoint around goals has changed. Although I was too exhausted to think about New Year’s Resolutions, his video made me feel more hopeful to continue trying in 2021. In his video, he compared a goal to a mere compass. It only guides you in a direction. And this direction runs off a “system”. So, your focus shouldn’t rely on the outcome, but more so the daily process (“system”).

To tie in both my mom and Ali Abdaal’s advice, it’s more about the journey than the destination itself, as ubiquitous as that phrase is. Whether I could concretely see my biggest desires in front of me or not, I knew I was following my compass. And, if I am consistently going in the right direction I planned for myself, I have no other place to land but success, even if it isn’t exactly how I imagined it to be or in the comfort of my stable tower. Being able to keep my mind on creating today allowed me to take back the control I sought by pondering the endless possibilities of my future. I know now I am doing the best to create today and that’s enough. This gradual anchoring in “the now” made time seem to slow and be more relaxed. My need to accomplish something big as fast as possible went away. I can’t rush to the day I get my doctorate degree, so why not put my feet up and focus on the smaller tasks? Patience. It only grew when I threw away my desire to make every goal manifest instantly. Life is never in a rush, only we are. Only when we step out of this massive need to control the uncontrollable does patience truly kick in.

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