It’s a typical morning in my household when I was in school—one of those mornings where you start off with grand plans of productivity, only to realize that getting a turn in the bathroom is akin to competing in the Olympics. You’d think there was a rule that I should always go last, but no—it's been established like a family tradition: everyone, and I mean everyone, gets their turn before me. And by everyone, I mean all eight of my family members, including me and the Cat.
It usually begins with my dad. The early riser, the first to declare his bathroom rights like he’s claiming undiscovered land. His routine? Uncomplicated and brief, but sacred. Once he’s out, I think, Okay, maybe it’s my turn next.
But of course, my mom’s voice echoes down the hallway, "I’m heading in next!" She disappears into the bathroom, fully prepared for an entire spa session, even if it’s a regular Wednesday. After what feels like an eternity of hot water running and the faint smell of lavender soap wafting through the air, she emerges refreshed and rejuvenated.
Still, I wait. Now, my siblings—oh, my siblings. I have 4 siblings ; 2 Older than me and 2 Younger to me. One of them has a whole pre-bath playlist, loud enough to suggest we’re hosting a concert in our home. They can spend hours, soaking, scrubbing, contemplating life like philosophers like they’re in a TED Talk about the meaning of soap and shower.
And then, just as I finally think I can get my chance—the Cat. Yes, even my Cat, gets bathed before me. My family insists that Cat’s fur needs special care, and she absolutely cannot wait.
By now, the hot water's running low, the bathroom tiles are damp, and I’m standing there feeling like a contestant on a game show called "Who Wants to Take a Shower?"
When it’s finally my turn, I step in, only to be greeted by lukewarm water and the unmistakable cat fur tumbleweed rolling by..
Fast forward to today: I live in a spacious home with my mother, complete with three bathrooms and three showers—something I now deeply appreciate. The decision to buy my own home was largely shaped by my past experiences of bathroom scarcity. Growing up, waiting endlessly for my turn taught me more than just patience; it fueled my drive to create a space where I had access to what I needed, without limitations.
Scarcity of resources can indeed teach valuable life lessons. It not only builds patience but also cultivates a competitive spirit, pushing you to strive for something better. Unlike my sisters including my younger sister, who all have their own homes now, the difference is that I bought mine myself. Their homes belong to both husband and wife, but for me, this space is my personal achievement—a symbol of independence and resilience.
And here’s the kicker: believe it or not, how patiently you can wait for your turn in the shower actually reflects whether you're cultivating a scarcity or abundance mindset. When faced with limited resources—like hot water—it’s easy to slip into that scarcity thinking, believing there's never enough and that we must rush to secure our share like it’s a Black Friday sale.
But if you can wait patiently, trusting that your turn will come and that there’s enough for everyone—even for the cat—you’re embracing an abundance mindset. This approach isn’t just about showers; it’s about how we tackle life’s challenges, from opportunities to resources. Scarcity makes us feel like we’re constantly missing out, while abundance allows us to thrive, even amidst the chaos. So, here’s to patience—because if I can survive the morning bathroom rush, I can handle anything life throws my way!
After all, patience is a virtue, right? Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself as I finally step into the shower. 🌧️🐾🛁
Of course, no concert is complete without an encore. I take that final rinse-off moment to finish strong with a power ballad, followed by a humble thank you, thank you to my imaginary audience for your unwavering support. 😎
Looking forward to the Interaction.
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