Patience is a Virtue

Patience is a virtue, a phrase we’ve often heard. But why is this so? Why do we value patience? One reason might be that understanding anything fully requires time.

Evolutionarily speaking, our ancestors often needed immediate responses. In hunter-gatherer societies, they didn’t always have the luxury of taking time to discern if something was a threat or a benefit. A quick reaction was essential to determine whether something in their environment was harmful or helpful.

Upon closer examination, they might have found that certain things were indeed beneficial. If they were fortunate in their assumptions, all was well. However, if they were mistaken and what they encountered was a threat, the consequences could be dire, even life-threatening. Often, it was safer to assume that unknown entities were threats, foregoing a detailed investigation. This was a protective mechanism, favoring caution over detailed understanding.

Be quick and agile. Overthinking can make you vulnerable. In the hunter-gatherer world, an immediate response was essential. Experienced individuals could rely on what we term as intuition. Years of trial and error would embed lessons deep within their unconscious, guiding their actions seamlessly. When you reach this level, your immediate reactions might well reflect valuable intuition, allowing you to instantly gauge whether something or someone is a friend or foe, even if you can’t pinpoint why you feel that way.

Drawing from the book “Thinking, Fast and Slow,” in this scenario, you’re employing System 1. If honed to an expert level, this can be referred to as intuition, often proving very reliable – this reliability is what sets experts apart. However, this isn’t always the case. More often than not, what we think is that intuition is actually bias and prejudice. Our reactions can be misguided, and we might not even recognize when we’re on the wrong track.

We only see and scratch the surface. Sometimes, we don’t scratch it at all. With such very limited knowledge and understanding, we think fast and react quickly, often mistakenly believing we are using our intuition. Without truly knowing or understanding, we define and believe things to be good or bad, true or false, beautiful or ugly, worth saving or destroying, worth worshiping or despising. We judge them solely by their surface appearance.

Should we take the time to understand this patiently? There’s no need. It’s obvious. Act now. Be patient? Don’t waste time. Do it immediately!

If that’s the case, why is patience considered a virtue? The downside of our System 1 thinking can be as dangerous and destructive as our tumultuous human history has shown. This is evident in everyday incidents, in one way or another. It seems we often blame and cancel each other without making an effort to understand beyond the surface.

We need to go beyond the surface and delve deep. Everything and everyone is composed of layers, each offering multidimensional perspectives. It’s crucial for us to grasp this insight from the outset.

Drawing a parallel, if we consider “System 1,” then this effort can be thought of as “System 2.” This approach typically demands a sequence of logical and rational steps and arguments. To establish scientific validity, we must inherently undertake numerous logical and rational steps. Behind every intuitive graphical user interface lie countless command lines. System 2 involves the meticulous effort of examining each command line individually, requiring immense patience and time.

However, the effort isn’t confined to logical reasoning alone. It’s not simply the reason we say “patience is a virtue.” Another vital insight is that everything and everyone operates on its own timeline. It’s not just about us allocating time; time is intrinsically woven into the fabric of everything and everyone.

In other words, everything and everyone has its own stories and histories. The former refers to the multifaceted layers of an object or individual, while the latter signifies a unique timeline.

For example, when you encounter someone, what thoughts come to mind?

If you were in the prehistoric savannas, your primary concern might be whether this individual is a friend or foe. Your intuition, honed from years of hunting, would operate on a primal level, System 1, to make a split-second decision. If you judged him as an enemy, you’d strike first to prevent being attacked. By doing so, you might kill him with your axe, ensuring your safety. It’s not surprising that one of the leading causes of death in prehistoric times was murder.

Now, imagine you’re in the Second World War. If you encountered a soldier from the opposing side on the battlefield, his uniform and flag would instantly indicate his allegiance. You’d know to strike first or risk being attacked. But what if, in that crucial moment, he showed you a photo of his family back home, pleading for his life?

Suddenly, you realize the profound truth: he has his own stories and histories. He isn’t just a soldier from the country you’re fighting against; he’s also a man with a loving family, much like yours. He has a history of how he was born, grew up, and found himself on this battlefield. It’s not only logical reasoning but an existential “raison d’être” that explains why and how he’s here, just as you are. Suddenly, a flood of insights about him might overwhelm you and shake your very core. What then is the right decision?

In our everyday lives, we encounter countless individuals. There’s often no time or energy to delve deeply into understanding their unique perspectives. Yet the reality is that everyone has their own microcosm, filled with a vast array of stories and histories. It’s impossible to understand them all. However, this realization underscores how superficial our judgments can be and the folly of attempting to understand everything and everyone based solely on these surfaces.

Why do they act the way they do? Why do they seem so different from us? We often lament our inability to understand and communicate with others. But why can’t we comprehend them? Perhaps it’s because we haven’t truly grasped their stories and histories. The world they perceive and experience might be starkly different from what you, I, or anyone else sees.

What do you fight for? We can pose this question at the beginning of a meeting as an icebreaker. At first, answers may seem common, but as we delve deeper, it’s surprising how diverse the responses can be based on each individual’s story and history.

This doesn’t only apply to humans but also to things like artwork and books. Since learning to read, I’ve revisited the Bible countless times. Why read it over and over again? Throughout my life, I sometimes ponder how many times I will read it and how deeply I can explore its multidimensional layers of perspectives, stories, and histories. Indeed, patience is a virtue.

My interpretation of the Bible at the age of twelve differed from my understanding at twenty, thirty, forty, and fifty. How will I perceive it if I’m fortunate to reach one hundred? Can I preemptively grasp that understanding? God forbid.

After all, we can never truly inhabit the viewpoints of others, or even our past and future selves; nevertheless, this remains the best approach to understanding each other and ourselves more deeply. Patience truly is a virtue.

Image by Peggychoucair