Thanksgiving for the Gift of Patience
On July 19, 2025, when my retina detached from my eye, I was carried on a journey unlike any I had faced before. For the first time in all my winters, I was required to slow down, like never before, not by choice but by necessity.
The healing of the eye is not something that can be rushed. The healing of the eye moves with its own rhythm, beyond my will, beyond my impatience. For this, I offer thanksgiving to Wakan Tanka, as it has brought me to an understanding of patience in a way I had never encountered before.
I have come to realize that impatience is not only about wanting things quickly. It is like a mask covering deeper fires within me. Behind the short fuse of impatience is anger waiting to ignite. Behind anger lies fear, fear of loss, fear of not being in control, fear that things may not turn out as I wish. Impatience, I now see, has been a shield I have carried, one that sparks too easily and burns too quickly.
Through this trial, Wakan Tanka, the Maker of All Good Things, has uncovered the roots beneath my impatience. The detachment of my retina has revealed the attachments of my heart, the grip I have sometimes held too tightly on outcomes, and how I have struggled, sometimes, against the flow of time and healing. Now, forced into stillness, I have learned that patience is not passively waiting. Patience is courage without agitation. Patience is trust without fear, the quiet fire of endurance.
I give thanksgiving for this teaching, though it came through difficulty, for it has opened my inner eye to see myself more clearly. I see now how often a quick temper, a sharp word, or a restless spirit arose not because of others, but because of my own impatience with the unfolding of life.
Patience, like vision, is a gift that must be protected and nourished.
