Buddhist practice helps us develop patience. Not patience in the way I used to understand it… but a non-reactive inner peace that is stable in the face of changing conditions, no matter what those conditions may be.

Like it or not, events unfold at their own pace.  We can choose to accept reality and be calm and centered or we can fight against reality and become upset.  “Now, let me see, I can make myself suffer or I can be calm, at peace and free from suffering. Decisions, decisions.”

Mindfulness also teaches compassion and good will.  When we are mindful, we are not self-absorbed.  We observe that life is hard for everybody. Everyone is struggling to survive and find happiness.  When we see this reality, it becomes easier to feel kinship with all living creatures.

These aspects of the practice were reinforced for me last week as I stood in line at the grocery store.  Only two lanes were open and each had a line of about four people waiting to pay.  At the front of the line in which I stood was elderly woman who was confused and physically compromised.  She struggled to get her purchases from the cart to the belt, she asked the cashier a number of questions and when it was time for her to pay, she required a great deal of assistance. 

I watched this scene unfold and noticed the reactions of the people in line.  As the minutes ticked by and the line didn’t move, folks became increasingly agitated.  Some people made unkind comments.  They were not able to find compassion and good will within themselves for the elderly customer or the checker who displayed marvelous composure.  It made me wonder who was truly the more compromised.   

Here is a poem by Charles Bukowski who had a similar experience.  I love this poem for the wisdom so simply stated in the last line.

Helping the Old
by Charles Bukowski

I was standing in line at the bank today
when the old fellow in front of me
dropped his glasses (luckily, within the
case)
and as he bent over 
I saw how difficult it was for 
him
and I said, “wait, let me get
them. . . “
but as I picked them up
he dropped his cane
a beautiful, black polished
cane
and I got the glasses back to him
then went for the cane
steadying the old boy
as I handed him his cane.
he didn’t speak,
he just smiled at me.
then he turned
forward.

I stood behind him waiting 
my turn.

And we are all waiting along with you Brother in grace or with suffering. Our choice.

But don’t take my for it or the poet’s either. Investigate for yourself.