Patience for gifted learners

I take a seat by the window and make myself comfortable. I'm not the first to arrive. Some, I'm sure, have been here a long while. They are the ones who look like they haven't seen sleep in days. I trace my fingers over the carved out initials in the desk--evidence of the poor soul sitting here in agony before me. I stare out the window at the sky, the clouds, the traffic, the trees waving in the wind. There is chatter around me. There is anxious energy in the room, but not coming from me. Some are nervously sharpening an entire pack of pencils, lining up their erasers and white out. They think there's going to be a test today. Don't they know, this is the test?

A woman sits down and is greeted with a piece of paper, a banana, and pair of running shoes. She looks up bewildered and then around at everyone else. Some people are poised, ready to grab the items the moment the recipient lets her guard down. In the corner, someone is sobbing. "Where's my banana?" she asks. "When will my banana come?"

Some time passes before Patience walks up to me.

"You're awfully quiet today Jill."

"Mm hm," I nod maintaining my gaze out the window.

"No questions today? No concerns?"

"I have none today."

Patience perches on the edge of my desk and leans forward.

"Not wondering when you will see love again? Where your next job will be? When you will have all the answers?"

"I'm exactly where I am supposed to be," I say.

Patience stares at me for a minute.

"How long will you sit here?"

"I don't know," I reply. "Until this window opens I suppose, or until someone walks through that door and asks me to come along with them. Until my phone rings. I really don't know. For now, I am exactly where I am supposed to be."

Patience smiles. "You are doing well Jill. Please feel free to read or listen to music while you wait."