The Kids Who Waited

What a rescue dog named Milo taught me about the reward on the other side of patience.

Patience has been one of my weaknesses. I'll own that.

When I was playing football and I was bad, I didn't want to get better. I wanted to get better now. When I set a goal, I want the outcome yesterday. Most of us are wired this way. We want the result as fast as humanly possible, and the waiting feels like wasted time.

But the waiting is the point.

More than fifty years ago, a Stanford psychologist named Walter Mischel sat young kids down in a room with a single marshmallow.

The deal was simple: eat it now, or wait about fifteen minutes alone and get two. Then he left the room.

Some kids caved the second the door closed. Others fought for it, covering their eyes, turning their chairs around, singing to themselves, doing anything to survive the wait.

Years later, the children who held out tended to do better across a range of measures.

Newer research complicated the picture. Much of that "willpower" turned out to be shaped by a kid's environment and circumstances.

Which is the part I find hopeful: patience isn't a fixed trait you're born with or without. It can be built.

Mine Got Built by a Dog.

A few years ago, my girlfriend and I were walking into the grocery store when we passed a rescue set up out front. We went over to say hi, and one dog stopped me cold.

He looked like the Black Lab I had growing up. Turned out he was a mix of just about every breed. He'd been neglected, abused, and carried more trauma than any animal should.

We figured we'd give him a break from the kennel.

Let's just foster him.

A few days passed. Then a few weeks.

We fell in love. We named him Milo.

We only had him for a couple of years before he passed, tragically and too soon.

But in that time, Milo taught me what no coach, no book, and no goal ever could.

Working through his trauma, his fear, his reactivity took time. None of it happened fast.

There was no version where I wanted the progress badly enough to make it arrive sooner.

He healed on his timeline, not mine.

Every small breakthrough came from showing up, staying calm, and waiting. Then waiting some more.

That's when it clicked.

The reward on the other side of patience is sweeter because you waited.

Milo made my life better, and he did it by forcing me to slow down.

Here's what I want you to sit with this week:

The goals you have are coming.

The promotion, the business, the body, the relationship, the comeback are on their way.

They might not arrive on your schedule.

But the wait isn't the enemy of the reward. It's what makes it worth having.

Be the kid who waited.

Your turn: Hit reply and tell me: where in your life do you need more patience right now? I read every response.

And if your team, school, or organization is wrestling with grit, resilience, and playing the long game, that's what I speak about.

Reply to this email and let's talk about bringing it to your stage.