When we think of patience, we often imagine holding ourselves still with tight muscles, grinding teeth, tapping toes—waiting, holding, and waiting some more. We are locked in a ball of tension waging a war with circumstances. We live through moments of turmoil as we wait in grocery lines, toll booths, for a friends to show up or for the next line to come as we write a post. These untoward circumstances often happen when we’re late for something else, placing us under pressure. What these circumstances have in common is that we have squeezed the space so tightly we don’t have room for mindfulness.
The key is space. And our personal space is dependent on relaxation.
In Buddhist teaching, Patience is taught as one of the six paramitas. The Paramitas Generosity, Patience, Discipline, Exertion, Meditation and Wisdom are activities that transcend our conventional frame into a more expansive or “transcendent” expression of experience. This transcendence is sometimes referred to as “the other shore,” as we move from a self-centered, habitual interpretation to one imbued with greater depth and perspective. From this larger perspective, patience can be viewed as a positive application for the development of wisdom. We are not clamping down or tightening up; rather, we are allowing space between an impulse and our action. This space provides the opportunity for us to become cognizant, intentional, and mindful. Transcendent Patience is a momentary pause for us to find the most appropriate response to whatever situation confronts us. More importantly, that space allows us to connect with our natural serenity and peacefulness of mind. Through consistent, dedicated meditation practice, we can develop the ability to recognize these moments of pause—often just before we bite down or cling to our next reaction.
When an untrained mind erupts into reactivity it becomes blindly led into negative consequences. Reaction impairs the mind’s ability to be aware of its actions. We might believe ourselves quick-witted or nimble-minded when, in truth, we are merely reacting with habitual jokes and defense mechanisms that bypass true awareness of the present moment. Why do we do this? Because the present moment may bring feelings of doubt, insecurity, and discomfort. In avoiding these feelings, we jump to conclusions, laugh off discomfort, and otherwise distract ourselves.
Patience, in its transcendent form, is not merely about waiting for external circumstances to shift. It is about cultivating space within the mind to introduce awareness into our processing. Patience allows us to see our thoughts as they form, granting us the opportunity to respond thoughtfully rather than react impulsively. In Tibetan, this reactive “hook” is referred to as shenpa; Pema Chödrön describes it as the feeling of being hijacked by familiar patterns of reactivity.
The application of patience can occur at any stage of the process, but the most elegant moment is just before the mind “bites down.” This requires mental training—daily, consistent practice of observing our thinking and recognizing when we’re reacting rather than resting in peaceful awareness. Even when meditation feels cluttered with thoughts, the simple act of observing the mind builds the muscle of recognition and acceptance. This awareness helps us notice when we’re hooked, when space collapses into habitual patterns, and when we have the opportunity to pause and choose a new path.
With this skill, we move from reaction to response. Reaction is defensive and reflexive; response is thoughtful, measured, and kind. Patience with the mind means seeing our thoughts as they arise without immediately believing or following them. Over time, this practice opens space in the mind, creating a more effective and adaptive processing system.
This internal patience also manifests in external circumstances. Waiting in line or sitting in traffic becomes less distressing when we recognize how the mind panics when it feels out of control. This panic is not caused by the line or the traffic itself but by our resistance to the present moment. The mind clamps down, shutting off awareness and making us irritable or anxious. By practicing patience, we can acknowledge our discomfort, breathe into it, and soften our mental grip.
The Serenity Prayer from 12-step traditions begins, “Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.” This sentiment parallels Buddhist patience. When we accept what is, without mental assault or denial, we create space for creative, intelligent responses to emerge. As in improvisational theater’s “yes, and” principle, patience invites us to accept reality and engage with it skillfully.
Patience also applies on a behavioral level, especially when we are cultivating something new—a relationship, a creative project, or a business. In some spiritual traditions, practitioners “turn it over to God.” In Buddhism, we turn it over to space itself, trusting that space is imbued with the same intelligence and compassion others may attribute to a deity. Rushing a project or relationship may bring temporary gratification but rarely yields sustainable growth. Patience allows the natural rhythms of the process to unfold, supporting more authentic and enduring outcomes.
Ultimately, life becomes a creative endeavor when we choose patience. The choice lies in either clamping down and forcing outcomes or relaxing and opening to the possibilities that space and awareness reveal. As the 12-step tradition wisely advises, “Let go and let God.” In the Buddhist tradition, we might instead say, “Let go and let awareness show the way.”
The world moves, demands, and challenges us. When we respond with patience, we align with that movement instead of resisting it. We give ourselves the gift of presence, spaciousness, and wisdom—the true hallmarks of transcendent patience.
importance of creating safety for not only himself but also the Dharma and for his students. The need for protection grew alongside his rapidly expanding community. In Tibet, monasteries were safeguarded by monks trained in awareness and nonviolent crowd control. Trungpa’s close attendant, John Perks, a British armed forces veteran, played a pivotal role in this initiative. Perks, who passed away on January 31st, was an outrageous and endlessly creative figure whose book The Mahasiddha and His Idiot Servant captures the spirit of the time.
These principles trace back to the 9th century when the Indian Mahasiddha Padmasambhava introduced Buddhism to Tibet at the invitation of King Trisong Detsen. Padmasambhava encountered numerous obstacles, as Tibet’s rich mystical traditions were diverse and often aggressive. While some practices were positive, others were rooted in fear and superstition. The Tibetan king sought to unify his people through a central spiritual framework, seeing Buddhism’s ideals of nonviolence and compassion as tools for governance. Inspired by India’s spiritual renaissance, Padmasambhava aimed to refine Tibet’s spiritual landscape.