STUDENT SHARING
One of my students shared the following account:
It was a busy day in the small, crowded copy shop, and I had just a few minutes to have some important documents copied before the next mail pickup. I could see that the two young women behind the counter were somewhat flustered trying to keep up, and I made a small note to myself to be what we commonly call “patient.” In other words, just wait. My turn at the counter came, and, as quickly as one in and out breath, I swept aside the actual situation in the shop—the number of people asking for help, the overloaded workers, the frenzied energy. I blocked all that out and zoned in on what I needed done. As I described to the young woman the way I wanted the copying done, within a short period of time I realized that she completely misunderstood what I was saying and was in fact taking my comment as a criticism or accusation of sorts. She lashed out that I was asking her to make a copy of something in a way that she wasn’t permitted to do. When I began to question her, she became more upset, and it wasn’t long before we both stepped out of the reality of the situation before us and into our personal domains of self-righteous anger.
Mine, of course, was subtler, skillfully delivered in my “Zen student” voice. But inside, I was furious! So, I left the shop. I even had thoughts of reporting her “unprofessional” behavior to whomever her boss happened to be. But I had only walked about thirty feet out of the door when a voice deep inside came forward and said, “Yes, you’re really angry, but hold off. Don’t do anything yet. Wait. Pay attention.” This was the first utterance of the Paramita of Practicing Patience: “Be where you are.” So, I paused for a few moments and felt the anger and disappointment at myself for letting my emotions get out of hand. I was angry with her for steadfastly accusing me of something I didn’t do, and, in truth, for stepping out of her role of “the customer is always right.” In short, “How dare her!” was utmost in mind. And in the midst of it all, I began to hear the rising sensations of guilt and the old voices of “should” and “should not.” But again, the whispered voice of Practicing Patience counseled, “Let in. Don’t block out. Lean into the parameters of the circle and let it widen.” So, over the next few days, I engaged in Practicing Patience.
And it began with bearing witness to the anger and righteousness that loomed foremost in my thoughts. It began with bearing witness to my own experience and then bearing witness to the other person. Even though it was in the past, the woman’s face came forward, and I saw the tears in her eyes and heard the quiver in her voice—both of which I had blocked out in the heat of anger. Then “openness and possibility” arose and fell away in waves. The circle of awareness widened to include possibilities of the situation she might be facing that were unknown to me. After several days of this practice, right action came forth. Not out of some external set of guidelines or rules of right action but rather from the deep-marrow knowing that the right thing to do was to apologize. So, early the next morning, before the lines of people demanding copies began to form, I went to the copy store. Luckily, just outside the shop, I met the young woman with whom I had had the encounter. I reminded her of who I was and said, “I am sorry for what took place the other day and apologize if my words were hurtful.” At first, she didn’t remember, but when I described the situation, she immediately reacted defensively, saying that I accused her of something she wasn’t guilty of. This time, I heard her. I don’t know why she felt the need to cling to that story. The point is, that was what she was doing. That was the way it was going to be, no matter how much I tried to explain my point of view in those few moments. And in bearing witness to her view of the situation, I could hold it, even though I didn’t agree with it. In that moment of practicing patience, I found words I could speak from the heart and simply said, “I understand you feel that way, and I am sorry if my words upset or hurt you. I truly wish you no harm and wish you well.” She was silent for a moment and then she smiled a bit. She left perhaps still believing her story.
Elements of Practicing Patience
Practicing Patience is often described as tolerance or forbearance. The word tolerance, meaning “endurance” and “fortitude,” implies nonjudgmental acceptance. Sometimes Practicing Patience is mistakenly thought to have something to do to with resignation, putting up with things we don’t agree with. But this paramita asks for more than a mental shrug of the shoulders. Tolerance is action, not inaction. If we’re tolerant of others’ points of view, it doesn’t mean we don’t take action.
Practicing Patience is also acknowledging that we are human and can easily get caught up in intolerance or impatience. It is a humble recognition that we are capable of doing great good and great harm. So, being patient with our impatience is also included in this paramita. And most of us live our life straddling a line down the middle. Forbearance implies a strength, a sense of “steady as you go.” It implies being solid, having both feet on the ground. Not to be confused with rigidity, forbearance is something that can be depended on. We live in relationship, but relationship implies more than us alone. Over time, and through a recognition of relationship, we find that we and other are one. And, of course, most of us don’t believe this for a moment. So this is where the practice of tolerance and forbearance supports us. It’s not always easy, for sure, but it’s an absolute necessity.
Practicing Patience also brings up forgiveness. I think of forgiveness as letting go of the past. It’s the “letting go” part that’s most important. And just as tolerance doesn’t mean inaction, forgiveness doesn’t mean we deny or even perhaps forget hurtful actions. Rather it means we let go of harboring resentment and wanting some sort of retaliation. Resentment is really interesting because we can be surprised at how it hides in the dark corners of our experience. If our mind is focused only on what this person did to us in the past, it’s very unlikely we’re going to meet them fully in the present. And unless we meet people and situations in the present, there’s little hope for patience.
But Practicing Patience is even more than this, for it leans us into what prevents us from allowing, from being open. It offers freedom from control. It challenges us to turn toward the total presence and freedom of just this.
STUDENT SHARING
One of my students shared the following account:
While driving home one night from downtown Oakland, a bit tired and anxious to get home, I noticed that the car in front of me came to an abrupt halt. There was no traffic light, and from my perspective, no apparent reason for stopping. My thoughts and body snapped into frustration and rising anger. Tightening my fingers on the wheel, gritting my teeth a bit, I started to have thoughts like, “What are you stopping for? Don’t you know how to drive?” Anger had hijacked my being present. All my body and mind knew was that I was tired, and I wanted to get home, and the driver in front of me was slowing me down. I was squeezed into the tiny closed circle of me—what I want, what I think I need; in short, a little self-centered view of the situation. Then suddenly, a pedestrian crossed in front of the car in front of me. I realized that I was so caught up in my own impatience to get home, I completely left out of my awareness any other possibilities as to why that car had stopped. I remember feeling like a splash of cold water had hit my face: “Hey, wake up. It’s not always about you!” Patience is what we have with the people driving the cars behind us, and impatience is what we have with the people driving the cars in front of us.