A prayer for patience

My hope is that with age comes wisdom and with wisdom comes patience.

And I felt I was on a path to more patience as I stepped out of the race rate and traded wing tips for flip flops with retirement a few years ago.

But I’m back doing battle as a road warrior with a consulting job that will require regular travel between my home in New Hampshire and Columbus, Ohio.

And I realize that my path as a freelance writer and editor to achieving more patience is now a long, long road.

Frankly, I had a lifestyle that lulled me into thinking I was becoming more patient as I age toward 60.

There wasn’t too much that could get me riled up when my commute consists of walking from the kitchen with a fresh-brewed cup of coffee to my music room/office down the hall of the house where my wife and I live.

Now my commute is by car, by plane, by bus, by cab, by whatever means necessary to get me from Point A to Point B to meet my client.

The patience factor was tested on a return trip from Columbus last week.

There was the TSA experience.

Now, I didn’t mind that I had to assume the position to be scanned and felt up. Do whatever you need to do to keep me safe on an airplane that’s 30,000 feet or so above the ground.

No, what tested my patience in the security line was the stupidity of other passengers.

In particular were the two 20-something young ladies who apparently don’t know -- even after hearing it 100 times -- that water is liquid.

The TSA agent was rattling through the items that are allowed and not allowed in carry on bags. You’ve heard the drill: No liquids or gels of more than three ounces.

“And water is liquid, ladies and gentlemen. Water is liquid,” said the agent as part of his audio loop spiel.

So what are these two girls carrying? Right, giant bottles of water that they tried to send through in their buckets with their shoes, cell phones, etc. The process ground to a half as the offending water bottles were recovered and disposed of.

Another road warrior looked at me and said: “I guess we chose the wrong line.”

Then after all that I pick up an text alert on my phone on my way to the gate that my flight had been cancelled.

So I have to leave the gate area and return to the ticket counter to get routed home through a different airline … and assume the position again for the TSA.

Insult to injury. Fortunately, the water as liquid scenario didn’t play out again.

There will be more instances of humanity doing its best to tick me off. And occasionally it will succeed.

But I’m trying to rise above a response that leads to frustration, annoyance and anger.

My mantra: Patience, patience, patience.