AUTHOR’S NOTE: It goes without saying that most of the cards of the tarot imply some kind of “movement,” if only because nearly every reading is about personal growth or situational development. But there are a number of cards that embrace the idea of “patience” in the form of refraining from immediate action, or that are in a passive state of transition . Here is a rough cut at how I see it, based on the Waite-Smith Tarot. Those that I’ve excluded aren’t uniformly dynamic but they are all engaged in some pursuit and aren’t just “sitting there” or pondering while they hesitate.

The High Priestess is completely immune to mundane pressures and bides her time, sitting with a serene dignity while she broods over the inscrutable.

“All good things come” to the Empress, so she is in no hurry.

The Hierophant takes the “long view” and is unmoved by the “passions of the moment.”

The Hermit is on a slow, steady ascent and isn’t pushing any envelopes; I’m going to steal (and mangle) the old Paul Masson wine slogan: “No climb before its time.”

Justice is all about deliberation. No way is she going to be hasty in her judgment.

The Hanged Man exhibits a state of suspended animation; he couldn’t “motivate” if he wanted to. I once likened his arrested condition to “cocooning.”

Death is the classical “Wait for it!” rebuke; we all know it’s coming but not when.

The patience of the Star is one of awareness that not all heights are scalable, so the woman waits for inspiration to come to her.

The Moon presents an obscured path that is treacherous to walk, so cautious, “slow-and-steady” advancement is essential.

The World recognizes that there is no need for further effort, so she “rests on her laurels” even as she dances.

Among the court cards, the sitting Queens in general are “patience personified” (some more so than others).

The Kings are also stationary, but I’ve always had the feeling they are “on the edge of their seat,” ready to spring up if they are inspired to act. (This anticipatory posture is shared by the Emperor.)

The Pages may be pensive but they aren’t entirely inert; they have one foot out the door toward their next learning experience.

In the Minor Arcana, the Aces convey endless potential with no kinetic dimension whatsoever; unless triggered by external impulses, they may never act. They are not so much patient as immobile, primarily signifying “expectancy.”

While most of the other Wands are lively, there are a couple of exceptions:

The nobleman in the 2 of Wands is at a turning-point and is still contemplating his course.

One of the keywords for the 3 of Wands is “patience;” the merchant has sent his ships off to foreign ports and is waiting passively for them to return with their cargo. There is nothing to be gained by pacing back-and-forth.

The combatant in the 9 of Wands stands warily (and wearily) at his “battle-station,” anticipating the next assault. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else.

The rest of the suits are divided in there deportment, with a few “transitional” cards in the mix.

The 4 of Cups shows the composure of boredom. (I call it the “one big yawn” card.)

The 5 of Cups is more about “regret” than “patience,” but inaction is implied by the man’s dejected stance.

The 8 of Cups is also a stagnant card, but the resigned man is on the move and isn’t sticking around to see if it regains its mojo.

The smug man in the 9 of Cups lacks nothing and has no need to step outside his door.

The 10 of Cups indicates the unswerving steadiness of devotion and a comforting environment, reflecting a deep well of both. They’re in it for the “long haul.”

Like the Hanged Man, the woman in the 2 of Swords retires in forced abeyance; she is all thought and no action.

The 4 of Swords is another card of “cessation of activity;” one of its keywords is “meditation.”

The 6 of Swords is a mixed bag; the boat is advancing but the seated passengers have no say in its progress, they are just quietly anticipating its eventual arrival. The boatman couldn’t care less, he’s seen this scenario countless times.

Although the woman in the 8 of Swords could strike out on instinct alone, she is mentally constrained to creeping forward at a snail’s pace. She is a paragon of stoicism that is a half-step away from the pessimism of the 9 of Swords and a full stride from the fatalism of the 10 of Swords.

The unfortunate soul in the 10 of Swords has no choice; a new dawn will come at its own pace.

The 4 of Pentacles is an exemplar of the “status quo.” Change brings risk.

The 7 of Pentacles looks more like “fatigue” than “patience” but the result is the same: deferred action.

The 8 of Pentacles is a different story. It suggests the contemplative “Zen of craftsmanship.”

The 9 of Pentacles is a study in complacency; the woman is oblivious to anything outside her sequestered garden. Once she eats all the grapes she will have to bestir herself, but not until.

The 10 of Pentacles oozes domestic inertia.