My wife is my favorite person I've ever met in my 40 years on

Mike Greenberg, with both humor and devotion, speaks of love and life when he declares: “My wife is my favorite person I’ve ever met in my 40 years on the planet, and I’m sure she would agree that patience is not her strongest characteristic. I don’t know that golf would be the game for her.” At first, his words seem lighthearted, a jest between husband and wife, yet beneath them lies a teaching of great value: the union of love and the lesson of patience. For in this reflection, Greenberg acknowledges both the beauty of his beloved and the virtue she struggles to hold, reminding us that love is not perfection, but a balance of strengths and flaws.

The mention of patience is no accident, for patience is the silent virtue upon which many of life’s greatest endeavors are built. Greenberg contrasts it with golf, a game that demands waiting, control, and endurance. Golf is a sport not of fury, but of stillness and rhythm. It mirrors life itself: a journey of long walks, small corrections, and measured strokes. To say his wife may not take to it is not merely to jest at her temperament, but to remind us that not all souls are drawn to the disciplines of waiting. Some hearts burn with urgency, desiring the quick result, the instant spark, the immediate flame.

History, too, tells us of the great dance between impatience and patience. Consider Alexander the Great, whose impatience for conquest carried him across the known world by the age of thirty. His urgency brought him glory, yet it also brought him an early death, his empire too vast to endure. By contrast, Gandhi, a man of patience, wielded stillness as his greatest weapon, slowly bending an empire to its knees through decades of perseverance. Both paths left their mark on history, one through fire, the other through endurance. Thus, we see that patience and impatience each have their place, but wisdom lies in knowing when each should rule.

Greenberg’s words also speak of love itself, for he names his wife his “favorite person” despite the playful mention of her lack of patience. Here lies a deeper truth: that true love is not blind to imperfections, but embraces them with humor and grace. The ancients knew this as well. Socrates once said that in marriage, one will either find a companion or a teacher, and in either case, they will gain wisdom. To recognize a partner’s weakness, yet to still hold them above all others, is the mark of enduring affection.

The lesson for us, children of the present age, is to treat the struggles of others—whether in patience or in other virtues—with gentleness. It is easy to demand perfection, but greater is the path of acceptance, to see a flaw not as a barrier but as part of the whole. Just as Greenberg laughs at his wife’s impatience without diminishing his love, so too must we learn to meet others with kindness, understanding that every strength carries its shadow.

Practically, we must cultivate patience in ourselves, for it is a discipline that shapes the spirit. Begin with small acts: wait without complaint, listen without haste, breathe deeply when frustration arises. And yet, let us not despise impatience, for it, too, is a fire that can drive us to action, to refuse delay when justice is urgent, or to seize opportunity before it passes. Balance the two as one would balance the heart and the mind, the bowstring and the arrow.

Therefore, let Greenberg’s words be remembered not only as a jest about golf, but as a parable of life: love others as they are, be patient where patience is needed, and act with urgency where delay would cost the soul. For love is patient, yes—but love is also understanding. And in that balance, both in marriage and in life, we find the true art of living.