Patience was not my natural disposition. Ask anyone who served under me — my temper was formidable. I once cursed so viciously at the retreat from Kip's Bay that my aides feared I had lost my reason. But I learned patience because the cause required it. Let me tell you how. First, understand that patience is not passivity. It is not sitting quietly while you boil inside. True patience is active — it is the discipline to wait for the right moment while preparing diligently for when it arrives. At Valley Forge, we appeared patient. In truth, we were drilling, training, building strength for the spring campaign. Second, lengthen your time horizon. Impatience comes from demanding that things happen now. But most worthwhile endeavors take years, not days. I fought for eight years before we won independence. If I had insisted on quick victory, we would have lost everything in rash attacks against a superior force. When you feel impatience rising, ask yourself: Am I trying to compress into a week what properly takes a year? Am I fighting against the nature of things? Third, attend to your physical state. Fatigue destroys patience faster than anything. A well-rested person is patient. An exhausted person is not. Do not mistake tiredness for character failure. Finally, practice on small irritations. The person who can wait calmly in a slow-moving line is training for the moments when true patience will be required.
