Lessons in Patience: What My Mother Taught Me About Life, Resilience and Waiting Well

Patience is not just a virtue—it’s a discipline, a mindset, and often, a deeply personal inheritance. Growing up in Australia, I learned many life lessons from my mother. She taught me how to cook, how to clean, how to walk with dignity through difficult times—but the lesson that has stuck with me, that continues to echo in the halls of my everyday life, is her teaching on patience.

In today’s fast-paced digital world, where instant gratification is the norm and everything seems only a click away, patience has become something of a lost art. But in my home, it was a cornerstone of character. Whether in business, relationships, or personal struggles, my mother’s approach to waiting, enduring, and persisting taught me more than any university lecture ever could.

This blog post is a reflection on those lessons. I hope it resonates with you—especially if you're navigating your own journey with patience.

The Early Lessons: Watching and Waiting

As a child, I didn’t understand patience. Like most kids, I wanted what I wanted, and I wanted it now. Whether it was a toy, an answer, or a decision made quickly—my mind raced ahead of reality. But my mother had a way of slowing things down.

She never yelled. She never rushed. She had a way of making silence feel full. If I asked her for something, she would say: “Let’s wait and see.”

That phrase used to drive me mad.

But over time, I came to understand that “Let’s wait and see” was not a cop-out. It was a strategy. It was her way of teaching me that outcomes are often better when they’re not forced. That clarity often arrives when you create space for it.

She taught me that sometimes doing nothing is the most powerful action.

Patience in Relationships

One of the most meaningful lessons in patience came through how my mother managed our extended family. Like many Australian households with diverse cultural roots, our family was complicated. There were disagreements, rivalries, grudges—but my mother never jumped in with judgment or anger.

Instead, she listened. She waited. She extended grace.

I remember once, a relative said something deeply offensive to her. I was furious on her behalf. But she didn’t retaliate. She let time do its work. Months later, that same relative came back, remorseful, ready to talk. My mother welcomed them with open arms.

In her view, patience wasn’t weakness. It was strength. It was the ability to see beyond the immediate sting of conflict and into the long game of love.

The Professional Application: Patience in Business

In my professional life, especially in finance and private lending, patience has been a game-changer. My industry thrives on numbers, speed, competition—but deals don’t close in a day. Good decisions take time.

There have been moments when I’ve felt pressure to rush—when I’ve wanted to say “yes” or “no” just to keep things moving. But I hear my mother’s voice: “Let’s wait and see.”

That pause has saved me from mistakes. It’s helped me read people better, understand their motivations, and avoid reactive decisions. In the world of business, especially in Australia’s ever-shifting financial landscape, patience is a competitive advantage.

The Mental Battle: Patience with Myself

Perhaps the hardest place to apply patience is internally—with ourselves.

After facing personal trials, including depression and grief, I found myself frustrated at my own pace of recovery. I wanted to heal faster, move on sooner, feel stronger. But healing doesn’t work on demand.

In those dark moments, my mother’s teachings came back to me. She never expected perfection. She never criticised slowness. She taught me to honour the process—even when the process was messy.

I started treating myself the way she treated others—with gentleness, with space, with patience.

And it changed everything.

Patience in Parenting

Now, as a parent myself, I find that the lesson of patience is more relevant than ever.

Kids are chaos. They test limits, ignore instructions, and ask the same question a thousand times. It’s tempting to lose your cool. But each time I feel my temper rising, I think of how my mother would respond—with calm, consistency, and compassion.

Children don’t just learn from what we say—they absorb who we are. So when I practise patience, I’m not just controlling a moment—I’m shaping their view of the world.

In Australia today, where so many families are juggling work, school, financial pressure, and uncertainty, patience isn’t a luxury. It’s a survival skill.

The Spiritual Layer

My mother’s patience was deeply rooted in her faith. She believed in divine timing—in the idea that things unfold as they are meant to.

She wasn’t passive or indifferent. She acted when action was required. But she also knew when to surrender. That spiritual wisdom gave her an inner peace I’ve always admired.

In my own way, I’ve adopted a similar philosophy. Whether you believe in God, the universe, or simply the wisdom of nature—patience often aligns with a deeper truth: that life unfolds best when you don’t try to control every outcome.

How Patience Builds Resilience

Australia is a country known for its resilience—through droughts, bushfires, economic downturns, and global pandemics. And in the heart of that resilience is patience. The ability to endure. To recover. To rebuild.

My mother’s approach taught me that resilience isn’t born in the big, dramatic moments. It’s built in the quiet discipline of waiting well. Of showing up every day, even when you’re not sure what the day will bring.

When I’ve faced setbacks—whether in business or in life—it’s been her patience I’ve leaned on.

The Hard Truth: Patience Doesn’t Guarantee the Outcome

Here’s something my mother never sugar-coated: being patient doesn’t always get you what you want. Sometimes things fall apart. Sometimes people don’t change. Sometimes waiting only brings more pain.

But her point was never about results. It was about integrity.

“Be patient,” she’d say, “not because it changes the world, but because it changes you.”

And she was right.

A Legacy Worth Living

As I reflect on my life now—in the boardroom, at the dinner table, during quiet mornings with my kids—I realise my mother’s lesson on patience is not a lesson at all. It’s a legacy.

It lives in how I make decisions. In how I love. In how I fail and get back up.

For those of you reading this in Australia or abroad, navigating your own journey with uncertainty, frustration, or delay—know that patience isn’t just waiting. It’s trusting. It’s choosing to act from calm instead of chaos. It’s knowing that some things are worth the time they take.

And if you ever feel like you’re losing your grip, just remember the simplest, strongest advice my mother ever gave me:

Let’s wait and see.

Author Bio:
Kalpi Prasad is a South Australian businessman, mental health advocate, and founder of Renown Lending. He writes about finance, family, resilience, and personal growth on his blog. You can follow him for more reflections and professional insights rooted in lived experience.