“Patience is the calm acceptance that things can happen in a different order than the one you have in mind.” (David G Allen)
What is the best piece of advice your parent has given you? What is the voice in your head that directs you to act in a particular way, holds you firm to a value or gives you wisdom when confronted by difficulty? What is the best advice you have given your child or children? When Gai Waterhouse was asked recently for the best piece of advice her father, trainer, TJ Smith gave her, her reply was swift – “he told me to be patient.” Implicit in the notion of patience is the idea of waiting, the delay of gratification, and the ability to endure - even the toughest of circumstances.

Waterhouse, as the first female trainer to win the Melbourne Cup, understands patience better than most. It does not mean there was any lack of urgency, low bar of expectations, or a relinquishment of drive - quite the reverse, really. It meant she had no such word as ‘can’t’, it meant she was persistent at banging the glass ceiling until it cracked and possessed a determination to wear others down. Patience does not mean standing stationary. Without patience, and a willingness to persist, Gai Waterhouse would not have carried the Melbourne Cup in the boot of her car for three months, following her epic win. Without her mantra, to keep getting on and doing it, and her willingness to see adversity as an opportunity for growth and an opportunity to appreciate that growth, she would have followed a different pathway. She says, “sometimes you win, sometimes you rise.”
Of course, the advice we give is best seen in our actions, not our words. I watched the Matildas lose with grace to the Canadian women’s soccer team on Saturday afternoon. Down by one goal very early on in the match, the Matildas were patient in seeking opportunities to even and then better the score. They were also persistent and determined. No doubt they will rise from the opportunity to play and lose against one of the world’s best soccer teams. But what struck me most were the Matildas who were waiting for a spot on the field. They were warming up with focus, each half, practising drills and repeating sprint patterns. They were waiting, waiting for their call up to take to the action. Not all got that call up. No doubt within them there was high anticipation and hope surging – and in the midst of that hope and anticipation, they too were learning patience. Sometimes patience is about waiting for an opportunity that might not arrive or might arrive in different packaging and at a different time. It is a skill worthy of our attention.
Consider the school week that has just passed and with it, the joy of a Junior School Showcase where our girls from Prep to Year 6 presented snippets from their Music/Drama/Dance classes, along with performances from the Junior Strings, Junior Band, Choirs, and the Middle School Voices Choir. It was an Arts feast and a beautiful celebration of ‘becoming’ – becoming confident on stage, becoming confident with self-expression, and becoming part of a team or group with a collective goal in mind. One cannot decide which Prep girl twirling her chiffon scarf as she danced across stage will become a ballerina or an accomplished dancer, nor which choir member will continue to sing publicly throughout her life – and neither should one. Patience is, after all, the calm acceptance that things can and do happen in a different order than the one we have in mind. It is often about simultaneously setting expectations and abandoning them when they become too prescriptive, too detailed, and too unrealistic.
My [then teenage] son, watching me proof-reading Year 1 reports many years ago was stunned by the number of descriptors for each student. With a mix of tongue in cheek and genuine disbelief, he said, “Why don’t they just write – this is Lucy, she is five years old, she’s fabulous – let’s just see how she goes.” There is a lot in that, isn’t there? Yes, the calm acceptance that we, and especially our youngest people, are still becoming … they become who they are over a lifetime, and we need to be patient. All our hopes and intent will not and cannot dictate the path of that becoming. So many factors influence our pathways, our successes and our setbacks, and our ability and interest in learning and improving. The Gai Waterhouses of the world have achieved through dogged persistence and sheer hard work, more than through talent or opportunity. Early mornings, long nights, self-reflection, and the willingness to do things differently, all have their place. So too does patience, the ability to accept the pattern of things, the readiness to wait, and having the faith to believe in the becoming process – the process of a lifetime.
Sometimes we win. Sometimes, we rise within ourselves, when we calmly accept that life rarely follows the order that we imagine for ourselves, or for our children. Patience is indeed a virtue worth acquiring.
Dr Linda Evans | Principal