In delay there lies no plenty, says Shakespeare's great song in Twelfth Night. That seems so obviously true as to be axiomatic, but finding a sense of plenitude in delay is possible, and extremely useful. Think of how much richer life might be if we could actually enjoy being stuck in a traffic jam. I haven't quite reached the stage of living that wisdom, but I'm getting there.
Last night, for example, when I saw the tailback of red lights snaking down from the peak of the bridge at Tuas, to within range of the Malaysian customs, did I rage and curse? Only sort of, Gentle Reader, and that was on the inside. To the casual observer, not that there were any, I would have appeared not shaken and only mildly stirred.
(In truth, I made an instant estimate that we might affect entry to this far place in two hours and was highly gratified in managing to get through in just fifty-five minutes. So that helped considerably in the lowering of temperature.) It's good to be put the test once in a while (as long as it is only once, that is.)