Does an INTP Believe in Buddha? My Quiet Journey from Overthinking to Inner Calm

“Does an INTP believe in Buddha?”

That’s the kind of question only an INTP would ask in the middle of doing the practice. Classic us, right? We could be meditating, chanting, or staring at a wall, and still there’s a part of our brain going, “Okay but is this actually working? Is there empirical evidence that enlightenment exists?”

I’ve been chanting quietly behind closed doors for almost three years now. Not as part of a big group. Not for show. Just me, sitting on my bed, mantra rolling off my tongue, 40 minutes at a time—most days, anyway. And yes, I still wonder sometimes if it actually helps people, or if it’s just become part of my daily mental maintenance routine.

But something has changed. And even though I didn’t notice it right away, the shifts have been real. Measurable, even—if you know how to measure things like mental clutter and emotional attachment.

See, before all this, I used to stress a lot about money. Like, a lot. I thought if I didn’t earn a certain amount, if I wasn’t saving, investing, growing financially—I was somehow failing. I tied so much of my worth to numbers on a screen. But the more I chanted, the less those numbers seemed to define me. It wasn’t like I stopped caring completely. It’s more like the grip loosened. I stopped obsessing. I saw money as a tool—not an identity.

Same thing with relationships. The old me used to overanalyze every interaction, replay conversations, wonder why someone didn’t text back, or if I’d said something weird (spoiler: probably yes). These days? I feel more… detached. Not cold. Not numb. Just clearer. I can think better. I can feel without spiraling. I can care without clinging.

And this isn’t some overnight “I found peace” story. I’m still an INTP. I still live in my head 80% of the time. I still question everything—including the chanting itself. But that’s the beauty of it. Buddhism, especially the kind that emphasizes direct experience over dogma, actually welcomes that questioning. It says, “Don’t take my word for it. Try it. See what happens.” And for an INTP, that’s all the permission we need.

I didn’t come to this practice looking for spiritual fireworks. I wasn’t trying to “find myself.” I just needed something to anchor me. Something I could return to when the thoughts got too loud. And that’s what chanting became. Not a miracle cure. Just a quiet space I created for myself, every day, to be instead of analyze.

Of course, I tried journaling. Because what kind of INTP doesn’t think, “Maybe I’ll track my spiritual evolution and turn it into a book one day”? But yeah… that lasted about three entries. Too much structure. Too many expectations. My brain prefers freestyle processing. The chanting became the journal. No pages, just breath and rhythm and repetition.

And while I may never fully know if it’s “helping others,” I know this: I’m not the same person I was three years ago. I stress less. I cling less. I think clearer. I care more quietly, but more deeply. And honestly? That feels like progress.

So, back to the original question: Does an INTP believe in Buddha?

Maybe not in the traditional sense. We probably won’t chant because someone tells us to. We won’t follow a path blindly or accept teachings without questioning them. But if a practice leads us somewhere real—if it sharpens our thinking, softens our heart, or helps us detach from things we no longer need—then yes. Maybe we don’t just believe.

Maybe we experience.