Prompt: Write about a time patience changed the outcome.
Okay, the prompt for today, July 5th, 2026, is: Write about a time patience changed the outcome.
I think that, in every instance I can think of, patience—or just slowing down—has improved the outcome.
With woodworking, for sure. When I go to the shop and I’m in a rush, hurrying through things and trying to get something made quickly, it never turns out quite as well as if I had just taken the time.
I remember turning a maple bowl. My turning technique isn’t great, and I still have trouble sometimes sharpening my chisels properly. I get tear-out. Essentially, that means the wood fibers are standing up instead of being cut cleanly, so the surface ends up rough instead of smooth.
One way to get rid of tear-out is sanding. Just… a whole lot of sanding.
Maple is a very hard wood, so it takes a long time. You have to work through the grits slowly, starting coarse and gradually moving finer and finer. When I’ve actually taken the time to go through the grits properly, using clean sandpaper and letting it do its job, the bowls have come out so much nicer. The wood just looks better.
Oftentimes, when I’m in a rush, I settle for “good enough.” And I’m never really satisfied with it. If I want something done well, I have to be patient.
That’s just one example, I guess.
With pens it’s the same thing. If I’m trying to get a certain shape or a certain look, I need to take the time to do it. Sometimes that means stopping to sharpen my chisels properly, or replacing the cutter if it’s a carbide tool. Just having the right tools in place and not trying to force things.
I often find, too, that if I’m struggling with an idea—if I can’t figure out how to do something—stepping away, doing something else, and then coming back is often the best way to solve the problem without actually changing anything. Just the time away makes the difference.
I think learning how to read properly has been another example. Slowing down and not rushing through a book makes reading so much more enjoyable. Even if it takes longer and I read fewer books, I enjoy them more, so I actually keep reading.
Before, when I was rushing through books and not really taking them in, I wasn’t enjoying reading as much, so I didn’t do it very often. Reading one book over the course of a month is better than reading no books over the course of twelve months.
There are all these little instances where patience—or simply putting in the time—has made things better. It’s a hard lesson for me to learn. It’s against my nature, if you want to call it that.
I’d love to start a meditation practice just to slow things down a little. I think I already have mindfulness practices scattered throughout my day, especially with morning pages and the routines I’ve built for myself. There’s a ritual to the way I do certain things, and I suppose that’s its own kind of mindfulness.
But meditation would be a more intentional way of slowing down, and I think that would be really helpful.
Patience is a good thing. Our society just makes it very difficult to practise because we want everything done quickly, and we want it now.
I can’t tell you how many things I’ve bought on Amazon just because I could get next-day delivery, only to leave the package unopened for months—or never use it at all before tucking it away somewhere and eventually finding it again.
Yeah. Right on.
Alright, you can find this prompt, and more, at Letters Lounge: www.letterslounge.com.
Of course, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this, so please leave a comment, or a link to your blog or audio journal, or whatever it happens to be, and I’ll check it out.
Alright folks, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
This transcript was lightly cleaned up with the help of AI to improve readability while preserving the original voice and intent of the recording.
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