It isn’t uncommon for us to move away from certain feelings. We have all kinds of methods to help us numb out our emotions. Many times we do this without even being conscious of it. As soon as we begin to feel something a bit uncomfortable inside, we find ourselves turning on the television or eating something as a way to avoid it.

If you were to investigate why you tend to avoid a particular feeling, one thing you may discover is a belief, either conscious or unconscious, that you can’t tolerate the feeling. If instead of moving away from the feeling you turned toward it in the present moment—meaning you allow your experience to be there without trying to change it—you would discover that hidden underneath that feeling lies a precious gem that belongs to you.

Mike had a good day at work, but when he got home he noticed he could not stop thinking about it. His mind was fantasizing about getting a promotion, making a lot of money, or becoming a hot shot at his company. He then felt an urge to have a glass of wine. Typically, Mike wouldn’t have thought twice about this and would have immediately poured himself the glass. However, Mike had recently begun reading a book on emotional intelligence that emphasized the importance of paying attention to inner experience, so he stopped and questioned his experience. He asked himself, “What’s going on? How come I want this glass of wine so bad?” He also paid attention to his body sensations and tried to know what he was feeling.

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As he paid attention to his internal experience, he noticed there were some uncomfortable sensations inside that he didn’t want to feel. He continued allowing his experience to be there without trying to change it. He then began to notice anxiety. He continued to be with it and noticed his whole body felt prickly and uncomfortable. He noticed then that the urge to drink intensified, but he took a deep breath and allowed the intensity to be there with curiosity and interest.

Behind the prickly, uncomfortable sensations, he noticed the sensation of a “hole” in his chest. As he allowed the hole to be there, a wave of sadness came through and tears began to flow down his cheeks. Suddenly he remembered painful memories from childhood that related performance and self-value. His parents used to focus excessively on achievement and accomplishment, and celebrated him only when he achieved things in school. He realized how his sense of worth was tied to how well he did at work. He wept deeply.

Before long, he noticed his experience was much more tolerable. The sadness now had a sweetness in it, and he experienced himself in an open, soft, and receptive way. He was relaxed and at ease, and the desire for wine was gone. He also noticed a deep sense of well-being and, specifically, a sense of value that was not dependent on his work or achievements. He was experiencing value simply by being.

Although Mike’s story is fictional, it illustrates a process that can happen when we are engaged in inner work. As Mike allowed his experience to be what it was without trying to change it, he realized he didn’t need to avoid it. As he continued to stay with it, he was able to see clearly an unconscious connection between performance and value. As he saw through those old templates, he was able to access a true, intrinsic sense of self-worth that wasn’t dependent on externals.

By becoming more open toward our experience instead of avoiding it, you too can access deeper aspects of yourself and encounter deep, intrinsic sources of well-being. Here are some ways to help you stay in the present moment as you encounter difficult feelings.

1. Widen Your Perspective

There are times when we can be with our feelings directly, with our awareness on them like a laser beam. This is particularly true when the feeling is vague, unclear, or not very intense. However, when we are experiencing a difficult emotion, it can be overwhelming and it may be wise to regulate how we are with it. At times like this, we may want to shift our attention from a narrow awareness of the difficult emotion to a wide, inclusive awareness.

Picture a balloon-like sphere (this represents you). Now, inside the balloon, picture a smaller sphere full of spikes (this is the difficult feeling). If you are contracted and tight around the spiky sphere, you will feel the spikes puncturing your inner lining, and you may even burst. However, if you allow spaciousness to come in, your balloon will inflate and expand. The spiky sphere will not touch your inner lining, and you won’t be hurt by the spikes. The spiky sphere will simply be a small particle in a vast container.

There are other methods you can use to expand your awareness. You can do it visually, somatically, or with breath. To do it visually, it can be helpful to be outside. Perhaps you can look at the sky, the ocean, or anything that reflects vastness, and let the emotion be held by it. You then notice how the emotion changes as the vastness is holding it. To do it somatically, instead of just feeling the area where the difficult emotion is located (which will typically be in the chest solar plexus area), you include the rest of your body in your awareness. You feel your feet, arms, head, and so on without denying the area of difficulty, and you notice how it becomes easier to tolerate the intensity. With breath, you simply take deep breaths into the emotion and notice if it becomes more tolerable.

2. Experience the Intrinsic Pleasure of Being Emotionally Intimate with Yourself

If we are able to stay with an emotion from beginning to end, we typically notice a pattern of increasing and decreasing discomfort. As we continue to stay with it, it will eventually cycle through and a discharge will naturally occur. At that point, if we pay close attention, sensations of pleasure will arise as the nervous system comes to a relaxed state.

The key here isn’t to try to get rid of our needs for external gratification, but to bring more consciousness to our inner process. The more aware and conscious we become about our needs, the more freedom we have from our compulsions.

Just as we can stay with the difficulty, we can stay with the pleasure of regulation; we can notice how our nervous system naturally releases tension, and that can feel pleasant. Take in that goodness and soak in the relaxation! As you do this, you may learn that the capacity for soothing lies within. We have the capacity to feel pleasure and well-being without external rewards. However, don’t underestimate our tendency to look for them. This desire is deeply ingrained in the brain. From the moment we’re born, we depend on externals for our survival.

The key here isn’t to try to get rid of our needs for external gratification, but to bring more consciousness to our inner process. The more aware and conscious we become about our needs, the more freedom we have from our compulsions.

3. Notice the Changing Nature of All Experience

Experience is constantly changing, but when we’re caught up in difficulty we tend forget this. In fact, when feeling difficult emotions we tend to believe they are going to stay like this forever. We also tend to concretize them, making them appear solid and unmovable.

The truth is all of our experience is in constant flux. If we’re able to notice the changing nature of experience when we’re experiencing difficulty, it can become easier to ride the feeling. For instance, when bringing your awareness to the changing phenomena in your experience, notice how it all has a beginning, a middle point, and an end. Understanding this constant movement can help you begin to dissolve even the most reified and apparently solid emotional experiences.

4. Share the Burden

Having a language for our emotions and being able to share them with others makes them much more manageable and digestible. In a way, therapy is a training ground for us to become more comfortable with our feelings by talking about them. There are all kinds of support groups out there that operate under this principle. To be able to talk freely about what ails us is an amazing way to make it more tolerable.

There are many ways to allow spaciousness into our difficult emotions. You may want to experiment and find out what works for you, or you might want to contact a therapist who can help guide you. This isn’t about ignoring the difficulty or making it go away. Rather, this is about letting the experience be held in more spaciousness.

What’s sacred for you? Where is it found? For many of us, the idea of sacred space brings up images of cathedrals or mosques, Stonehenge, Angkor Wat, or the pyramids. These can be places separated from us by great distances and steeped in centuries of tradition, so getting to them is a journey. “Next year in Jerusalem,” we tell one another. Or we dream of making the Hajj to Mecca, or going on pilgrimage to Santiago or Lourdes. Such spaces can also be the houses of worship we go to once a week, for which we dress in special clothes, covering or uncovering our heads, possibly leaving our shoes at the door.

For others of us, the sacred is hard to find, or is something we feel we once had access to but no longer do. We get caught up—sometimes for years at a time—in the business of daily life. Technology provides us with increasingly sophisticated means to keep ourselves distracted. Or the practices that once offered access to the sacred may no longer do so.

In the following discussion, names have been changed and personal material has been screened out.

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Sacred space can mean what we set the space aside for, what we do while within it. Jim creates a memorial altar in his home. On top of a bookcase, he puts photos of people he loves who have died—his grandmother, his partner, his best friend. He keeps a candle burning there, and on their birthdays he sets out flowers or a cup of coffee.

Sacred can refer to what we feel when we enter the space. Benjamin, disillusioned with his church, goes into nature in order to feel he’s contained in something larger than he is, that will accept him no matter what. Janice writes her dreams down in a journal. When she sits down in front of her journal and opens it, she experiences feelings of calm and increased focus. Cathy goes on vacation to Istanbul and enters the Blue Mosque. Although a practicing Lutheran, she finds that looking up into the ornately tiled, domed ceilings produces a sense of weightlessness and freedom from worry.

Bob belongs to a writers’ group. Every two weeks, the group gets together at a different member’s home. They read and critique each other’s work. Although “sacred” isn’t the way he describes this (and, in fact, is a term he objects to), Bob says writing is the most important thing in the world to him—“what he was born to do.”

Kyle meditates before coming to therapy. He sees his therapist’s office as the place where he meets what is most true in his life, sometimes for the first time.

For Alice, it’s her mother’s house. For Karen, it’s wherever her 10-year-old daughter is. Both women struggle with recovery, but don’t use in the spaces where they locate the sacred.

If we give the sacred its own space, do we increase the chances we will recognize it when it greets us?

The sacred is what grounds us in meaning. It can include us, as when we recognize that we are part of or one with the universe. And it can gently put us in our place, as when we slowly realize our ego is not the most important content of that universe. It can be deeply personal, as in meeting rooms where we establish or affirm our relationship to a higher power. And it can be an experience of merger, as when we look up and out into the stars at night. Sharon Olds, in her poem Wilderness, describes sleeping in the desert and looking up at the stars. She feels suddenly “… as if/not only the earth while I am here, but space/and death and existence without me, are my home.”

Sometimes we know it for the first time by responses that surprise us. Fran, hiking, comes into a grove of California oaks in the hills over the ocean. She says, “I suddenly heard the silence for the first time. It seemed to go on forever.” For Steve, the experience came as he was driving through Death Valley. “I was going to meet some friends,” he says. “But I drove more and more slowly, until I just had to pull over and stop. I’d never seen anything like it—white sand dunes, colored cliffs that looked like sculptures, and no one else around anywhere. I felt connected to the earth for the first time since I was a kid.”

Our own bodies can provide such a space. Tom describes an experience late one Christmas Eve that the manger where the Christ child was about to be born was his own body. This original intensity faded, but he was left with a lingering and resonant awareness of what he put into his body in terms of food and recreational substances, and of how he took care of his health.

Sacred space can mean leaving room in our lives for something to be sacred—if not now, then someday. Perhaps as simply as by acknowledging we don’t know all the answers. Or that our answers might not be the ultimate answer, might merely be rest stops along the way.

Sacred space can as well act as a holding place in times of uncertainty or transition. It can be a system of meaning, rather than a literal place.

According to Erik Erikson, in the first stages of life we’re engaged in developmental tasks related to basic psychological functions, such as establishing trust and self-efficacy, and in developing a stable sense of identity. Another way of saying this is that we’re involved in consolidating the ego, the sense of “me” present in experience that makes it “my experience.” This time of life is a little like the Ptolemaic view of the universe, where everything—sun, moon, and stars—seemed to revolve around the earth. That’s us at the center of everything, and whatever happens is about us.

Often around the midpoint of life, we start picking up hints that we’re not going to increase and live forever. In Once Upon a Midlife, Allan Chinen describes how shocking this realization can be, accompanied by anxiety and grief. Especially at such a point, a sense of the sacred can act to ground us. As the fact of “me” begins to lose its apparent guarantee of continuance as well as its centrality (because how central to the universe can I be if I’m not going to be around?), the universe is less and less about me. But perhaps I become more and more about something else, something larger than me.

Carl Jung notes that, in this way, the ego becomes relativized and the process of individualization—becoming wholly who we were meant to be—is accomplished. We begin to live in a system of meaning where the earth revolves around the sun, the sun rotates through the galaxy, and the galaxy itself follows its own great attractor. Our experience then seems to participate in larger movements, whether those are our family or a cause in which we believe or humanity in general, a spiritual pathway or the life of the universe.

Ray tells me that if you go to the mosque to pray 40 mornings in a row, you will be able to meet Khid’r, a mystic figure in Islam, anywhere—in the market, on the street. Barbara tells me she sets a place at the Seder table every year for Elijah, who will someday return from his sojourn in heaven, so why not here, why not now? Beth tells me that when you practice Zen meditation, anything—even a drop of water falling into a bucket—can suddenly herald a glimpse into the nature of reality.

Here, we have the idea of ordinary daily space—and that includes the freeway where we’re caught in traffic, or the area where we keep our trash cans—suddenly converting to sacred.

A related idea is that all space is sacred already. Connie tells me a quotation from the Gospel of Thomas, where the figure of Jesus tells his disciples, “The kingdom of the father is spread out on the earth, and nobody recognizes it.”

If I’m already in a sacred space, what happens to my anxiety that is sometimes so intense? My craving for alcohol? The anger I feel at my partner when we disagree over small matters?

Sacred space can mean leaving room in our lives for something to be sacred—if not now, then someday. Perhaps as simply as by acknowledging we don’t know all the answers. Or that our answers might not be the ultimate answer, might merely be rest stops along the way. The possibility that even though something doesn’t seem to make sense to me, it still might make sense. That I am included in a great web of meaning, at home, wherever I am, with no chance of getting lost.

References:

1. Chinen, A. (1992). Once Upon a Midlife: Classic Stories and Mythic Tales to Illuminate the Middle Years. New York: Putnam Publishing Group.
2. Erikson, E. (1980). Identity and the Life Cycle. New York: Norton.
3. Jung, C. (1969). The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche, Second Edition. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
4. Olds, S. (2002). The Unswept Room. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.
5. Robinson, J., Editor. (1978). The Nag Hammadi Library. New York: Harper and Row.

How do you react when you’re in pain? Do you resist it, ignore it, or push it away? Do you get consumed by it? Would you like to learn a more healing and compassionate way to respond?

To be alive means we feel happiness, joy, sorrow, and pain. Most of us want to feel happiness and all the other positive feelings, but pain? Not so much. Pain, though, is a natural part of life. It shows up physically, such as when we’re injured, sick, or aging, or as the emotional pain of frustration, sadness, loss, or sorrow. It also arises when we’re consumed by some mind state, such as anxiety or depression.

How Resistance to Pain Creates Suffering

“Resistance creates suffering. Stress happens when your mind resists what is. The only problem in your life is your mind’s resistance to life as it unfolds.” —Dan Millman, author and personal development lecturer

Whether it’s physical, emotional, or mental, staying open and present to pain is challenging. What makes it so isn’t the actual sensation of pain; it’s the way we react to it. We catastrophize, worry, or ruminate about what happened, what it means, and how it will affect our future. Sometimes we go into mental gymnastics, trying to figure out how to make it go away. We use our energy in ways that are exhausting and don’t help. This only fuels the pain, morphing what might have been a temporary period of pain into a longer one.

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These reactions stop us from seeing when we’re caught in some belief or story about how life needs to be in order for us to be happy. If I’m always wanting to please others and neglect myself in the process, I can’t possibly be happy. Fearing rejection or the loss of a loving connection can keep me engaged in behaviors and patterns that are unhealthy and hurtful.

They can also show up as addictions, distractions, or unhealthy mind states, including:

• Overeating to subdue or numb the pain
• Self-medicating with alcohol and/or drugs
• Avoidance strategies such as video games, gossip, shopping, etc.
• Ruminating (getting caught in thoughts, stories, judgments, and opinions about how life should be)

Can you see how these patterned ways of reacting to pain can create deep suffering?

So how do we help ourselves?

How Resistance Manifests

The first step is to become aware of when and how we’re reacting/resisting pain. I like the way Christopher Germer, a clinical psychologist and author, describes the resistance that shows up when emotional pain arises. In his book The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion, he describes the series of internal dialogues that occur when a pain is present as follows:

“I don’t like this feeling!”

“I wish I didn’t have this feeling.”

“I shouldn’t have this feeling.”

“I’m wrong to have this feeling.”

“I’m bad!”

Have you found yourself reacting similarly? Did it intensify the pain?

When we get stuck in these reactive cycles, we cut off from the very source that helps us heal and reconnect with life.

Moving from Reacting to Responding

The practice of mindfulness, and specifically self-compassion, helps us soften the resistance. We stop trying to escape, control, or ignore the pain and instead open to it. Staying present, we begin to investigate, through the practice of nonjudgmental awareness and kindness, how our body reacts to pain (tightening/tension); how our thoughts are affected (fear, anger, aversion); and what emotions are in need of attention and loving acceptance.

This pausing to connect is a pivotal moment, one where we’re shifting from reacting to responding. Deepening our exploration, we can practice the following steps:

• Connect with the breath. Notice areas of tightness, tension, or pain in the body. Send a compassionate, soothing breath to the parts of the body that are distressed.
• Close your eyes. Notice if there’s some fear-based belief operating in the background. Try not to get hooked in the story. Instead, gently focus on the breath, allowing the rhythm to soothe the body and emotions.
• Acknowledge the feelings that are present and notice where they show up in your body. Sometimes sadness is felt in the heart area, anxiety in the stomach, anger as a tightening of the muscles. See if you can soften around what you’re feeling.
• Place your hand on your heart as a gesture of love and compassion. Imagine the hurt as a small child in need of affection and attention. Surround the child/hurt in a warm embrace.
• If overwhelmed by emotional pain, go for a walk, focus on the sensation of your body moving, and breathe in and out with each step.
• Take in the sounds of nature or listen to calming music. Let the sounds move through you, soothing the hurt/pain.
• Take a restorative yoga class to help you learn to attune to body, mind, and heart in ways that restore balance and promote healing.

This is a powerful, transformative, and healing approach that helps us stay present to the pain and challenges we all face in life. Most of all, it helps us stay open to all of life’s joys and sorrows—and that is what makes life worth living.

May you live with ease and peace.

Let’s stop making mindfulness something other than what it is. Let’s stop making mindfulness the great cure-all. Let’s stop making mindfulness another gimmick to improve ourselves. Because it’s not.

If we look clearly at the definition of mindfulness, we see that it is an inherent capacity in all of us—one that doesn’t need to be made into an object. It is our birthright. Simply put, mindfulness is a way of being aware of our ongoing present-moment experience with an attitude of nonjudgmental acceptance. It is the opposite of being distracted, yet you can be mindful of being distracted. It is the opposite of being on autopilot, yet after enough practice it becomes automatic.

Meditation practice supports mindfulness, but meditation is not mindfulness; meditation merely helps train the mind to be in a mindful state. Mindfulness doesn’t belong to anyone or any one tradition, although many meditative and contemplative traditions (particularly Buddhism) make it explicit in their practices.

Mindfulness is an ever-deepening way of being that can be understood only by living it.

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What Is It, Really, to ‘Live in the Moment’?

As you become increasingly, continuously aware of yourself—with an attitude of wanting to know your experience deeply—your perceptions can change dramatically. What a gift to live life in such a way! If we can begin to rest in the mystery of not knowing what is going to happen next, we open to the possibility of living an exciting life of ongoing discovery and freshness. Even the most mundane activities can become rich, full of texture and volume, and we can experience them anew each time we encounter them.

It’s very easy to fall back into dullness and numbness, though, especially when our environment doesn’t support our aliveness. Also, depending on our current capacity to trust, our ability to open or stay open may be challenged. If we grew up in an abusive environment, we may have much more difficulty resting in the aliveness of not knowing, and we may experience this excitement as dread and anxiety.

The good news is trust can be developed. By repeatedly encountering our open, spacious, and restful nature through mindfulness, our organism begins to trust more and more in the process. Every time we experience true openness and get past the anxiety of not knowing, our nervous systems relax—and that relaxation is deeply nourishing for the parts of us that remain young and afraid.

If we are able to truly take in the relaxation, something deep in us transforms. This is not a one-time thing, but a continually deepening process.

Practicing Without a Goal

Mindfulness is not about becoming a better businessperson, a more focused worker, a more efficient human being, or even an enlightened person. Mindfulness is about becoming more intimate with yourself, more aware of your direct experience in a more alive way.

If you’re practicing mindfulness to increase your capacity to achieve something, it may indeed work. However, the real gift of mindfulness is deep intimacy with ourselves. When we are truly intimate with ourselves, our understanding of who we are can radically transform in ways we couldn’t imagine beforehand, and we can experience a sense of “me” that is not shaped by our history.

Some say it doesn’t matter what our initial motivation for practicing is; what matters is that one begins practicing. In my experience, this seems to be true. I’ll admit when I began practicing, my motivation was narcissistic in nature. I had all these ideas in my head of being some kind of “master of the mind,” becoming a better person, or getting to some marvelous state of mind. I didn’t realize back then that with that attitude, I was rejecting myself. By wanting to become someone other than who I was, I was rejecting who I was at that given moment.

No Two Paths Are the Same

We are each moving along our own path, and all the circumstances that have brought us to this moment are uniquely ours—which means that whatever supports our journey is also uniquely ours. Part of our path requires us to find for ourselves what it is we need to keep opening to it. Mindfulness helps us develop that sensitivity, in learning little by little how to truly live in the moment.

After many years of practice in conjunction with other forms of inner work, I can say that, for me, mindfulness boils down to simple, conscious acceptance of the immediacy of my experience—and that, in and of itself, is the reward of the practice.

When we first start practicing, we have no way of differentiating what is motivating us to do what we do. The more we become in touch with ourselves (in mind, heart, and body), the more we are able to tease apart our various motives and make decisions that are congruent with our deepest longings.

Paradoxically, however, we can’t do this alone; we need others on our journey. We need to feel our connections and rub against others to know ourselves. We also need the guidance of others who are further along the path.

After many years of practice in conjunction with other forms of inner work, I can say that, for me, mindfulness boils down to simple, conscious acceptance of the immediacy of my experience—and that, in and of itself, is the reward of the practice. Other benefits pale in comparison to savoring each changing moment of aliveness with its infinite subtleties and flavors.

Mindfulness doesn’t take away the anguish of being alive. The truth is that life has moments of pain for everyone, and what mindfulness does is give us the capacity, or container, to stay open in the midst of such pain. Even if we need to shut down because the pain is so intolerable, our mindfulness allows the process to go more smoothly.

We cannot expect to want to feel the goodness in our lives without also experiencing the pain. However, we can learn how to breathe through it, and with mindfulness and attunement to our own, unique needs, we can find what will support us in the process.

Research on mindfulness shows that it can be beneficial for improving a person’s attention, mood, pain tolerance, and immune function. It can also be used to reduce stress and increase a person’s cognitive functioning. Therapists use it to treat depression, anxiety, drug addiction, and a vast number of other mental health issues. Recently, the practice, rooted in some of the principles of Buddhism, has found an unlikely advocate in the Department of Defense (DoD), which has also started using mindfulness to help soldiers prepare for and return from combat.

Its use in the military is considered somewhat controversial by some, as traditional mindfulness practices are often associated with an opposition to conflict and the promotion of peace.

“Mindfulness can be used as a tool to manage attention, regulate affect, and monitor cognition,” mindfulness practitioner Andrew Archer, LCSW said. “I imagine this form of grounding and centering could prepare people for extremely charged, chaotic environments. However, mindfulness has been best practiced with the act of conscientious objection to war.”

Why Is Mindfulness Taught in the Military?

[fat_widget_right]Proponents of mindfulness training for the military explain that although war is not ideal, it remains a reality for society today. If soldiers must participate in war, they should receive training that will not only help prepare them for combat, but also help them manage the stress and trauma associated with it.

For the military to be successful, soldiers must be able to absorb a large amount of information at once and be able to make quick decisions without succumbing to overwhelm or stress. For this reason, mindfulness-based training programs are being introduced in the military, one of the most visible being Mindfulness-based Mind Fitness Training (MMFT).

MMFT is a 20-hour course designed to increase resilience to stress for those working in high-stress environments. The program is based on the principle of mental fitness. Mentally fit, according to the program, is defined as being efficient in four capacities:

• Attention
• Mental agility
• Situational awareness
• Emotional awareness

Mindfulness training teaches these important skills that not only help soldiers on the battlefield, but also help ease their return home.

Mindfulness Before Combat

The period before a combat deployment for many in the military is highly demanding both mentally and physically. Not only are service members intensively training for their upcoming mission, but they’re also psychologically preparing to leave their families behind and enter into a dangerous environment.

The University of Miami conducted a mindfulness study of 75 soldiers stationed in Hawaii awaiting deployment to Afghanistan. The results of the study indicated that just 8 hours of mindfulness training during an 8-week period helped improve the soldiers’ attention span and prevented their minds from wandering when subjected to tests that measured those factors. The University of Miami study suggests even brief mindfulness training programs may help improve the cognitive functioning of deploying military personnel.

The University of California, San Diego School of Medicine and Naval Health Research Center published a study in May 2014 in the American Journal of Psychiatry that explored whether integrating mindfulness practices to increase mind and body awareness into pre-deployment training could help reduce the occurrence of posttraumatic stress (PTSD), depression, and anxiety in returning soldiers.

During this study, pre-combat Marine infantrymen learned various mindfulness meditation techniques, including interoception, which is the ability to help the body regulate and sustain its homeostasis by cultivating awareness of bodily sensations such as heart rate, stomach tightening, and skin tingling. The Marines then underwent a mock combat scenario with a highly realistic ambush in a scene designed to resemble one they might encounter in the Middle East. The study examined the Marines’ heart and breathing rates and compared the results of those who received mindfulness training to a group that did not. The group that received mindfulness training returned to baseline sooner than those who hadn’t.

Mindfulness After Combat

The U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) estimates about 1 in 5 Iraq and Afghanistan veterans return experiencing PTSD. With such a high rate of occurrence, it is important that soldiers have access to effective treatment options. Although medication is still highly prescribed, it may not be effective for treating all the emotional and cognitive aspects of PTSD. Mindfulness training, according to the VA’s National Center for PTSD, The U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) estimates that about 1 in 5 Iraq and Afghanistan veterans return experiencing PTSD. With such a high rate of occurrence, it is important that soldiers have access to effective treatment options. Although medication is still highly prescribed, it may not be effective for treating all the emotional and cognitive aspects of PTSD.however, has been proven to help those experiencing PTSD cope with anxiety and hyperarousal—two conditions commonly reported by returning veterans. Additionally, the National Center for PTSD says mindfulness can be useful either as a complementary or stand-alone treatment.

Virtual mindfulness training programs have also been used to help teach veterans mindfulness practices as well as connect them to a larger veteran community, all in the comfort of their own homes. Coming Home, a project developed by the University of Southern California’s Institute for Creative Technologies and sponsored by the U.S. Army’s Research, Development, and Engineering Command, is a post-deployment transitional support program offered virtually to veterans who are reintegrating into civilian life. Through this program, veterans learn the principles of mindfulness-based stress reduction using an avatar character in the 3D virtual world of Second Life. The program not only helps veterans learn mindfulness and reduce stress, but it also provides a social component, which may be especially valuable for veterans living in areas where they may not have access to services or a larger veteran community locally.

Research continues to reveal benefits mindfulness training provides for soldiers both before and after combat. These benefits in some cases have the potential to be life-saving, both from improved situational awareness and stress resilience during battle and from decreasing the intensity and occurrence of posttraumatic stress symptoms, which are often linked to a high rate of veteran suicides.

References:

1. Gregoire, C. (2015, February 18). Mindfulness training improves resilience of active duty soldiers. Huffington Post. Retrieved from: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/02/18/mindfulness-military-_n_6704804.html
2. Minds at Attention: Military and Mindfulness. (2015, February 12). University of Miami: College of Arts and Sciences. Retrieved from: http://www.as.miami.edu/news/news-archive/minds-at-attention-military-and-mindfulness.html
3. PTSD: National Center for PTSD. (n.d.). Mental Health Effects of Servicing in Afghanistan and Iraq. Retrieved from http://www.ptsd.va.gov/public/PTSD-overview/reintegration/overview-mental-health-effects.asp
4. Stanley, E.A. & Schaldach, J.M. (2011 January). Mindfulness-based mind fitness training (MMFT). Mind Fitness Training Institute. Retrieved from: http://www.mind-fitness-training.org/MMFTOverviewNarrative.pdf
5. Teaching Veterans Virtually. (2011, April 5). Retrieved from: http://www.mindful.org/news/teaching-veterans-virtually
6. University of California, San Diego. (2014, May 16). War and Peace (of Mind): Mindfulness training for military could help them deal with stress. ScienceDaily. Retrieved from www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/05/140516092519.htm
7. Veterans Relearn Compassion through Meditation. (n.d.) Retrieved from: http://www.mindful.org/the-mindful-society/veterans-relearn-compassion-through-meditation

In the 21^st century, as mindfulness-based practices become more mainstream, our society and psychotherapeutic community may be more willing to accept that Buddhism could be a valid psychological approach to reducing human suffering. —Danielle A. Einstein (2007)

In some ways, mindfulness is to Buddhism as worshiping is to religion. Mindfulness is a mental practice that is one core feature within a scaffolding of knowledge, tradition, and awakening. Now removed from its casing, mindfulness practices such as meditation are rigorously operationalized for psychotherapeutic purposes, including research designs. This detached arm of Buddhism has come alive in the West to gain size and strength despite the secular environment. Imagine if the “auditing” process in Scientology was an evidenced-based practice for relieving psychological distress. It is hard to imagine detaching such a practice from its larger cultural understanding and history.

There is an interesting emergence of Buddhist practices in psychotherapy as well as subtle distinction between religion and therapeutic models. The concept of religion relates to a social group’s preferred lifestyle, set of values, and interests, as well as committed practices, principles, and experiences (Mohr, 2011). To act “religiously” is to consciously and methodically conduct oneself in an activity, behavior, or ideology. A modern, magnified version of spirituality now includes positive psychology, whereby one searches for meaning, connection, and other secular hopes of universal inclusion (2011).

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“Mindfulness” has become a stand-alone contemporary practice for focus, affect regulation, and stress management. Mindfulness techniques have been incorporated into psychotherapy practices that, as a result, have taken on religious forms. The fat of the pre-modern (500 B.C.) tradition of Buddhism has been trimmed, and the leaner version (i.e., mindfulness) has migrated from desolate monasteries into empirical research and pop-psychology vernacular. Questions arise: Are the new-age psychotherapy practices religious? When teaching and conducting mindfulness-based practices, is it possible to parcel out the roots, allegiance, and ideology of its origin?

‘Third-Wave’ Therapies and Mindfulness

Mindfulness and other contemplative practices extracted from Buddhism are implanted in several evidence-based, cognitive behavioral practices. Mainstream cognitive behavioral-based therapies have evolved (called the “third wave”) to include mindfulness components. Despite secular efforts aimed to separate mindfulness from Buddhism, when examined closely, religious components are implicit to mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR), mindfulness-based cognitive therapy (MCBT), acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT), and dialectical behavior therapy (DBT) (Andersson & Asmundson, 2006). Much like a car’s side mirror, these are closer to religious belief systems and religious practices than they may appear.

The conceptual scaffolding of Kabat-Zinn’s MBSR stems from Theravada Buddhism (Einstein, 2007). The fundamental attitudes are acclimated practices of Buddhist awakening systems and reference the Four Noble Truths. For psychotherapy purposes, MBCT adds the empirical practices of cognitive behavioral therapy (often in group formats) to the MBSR program. Buddhism and MBCT join at the concept of “meta-cognitive insight.” Instead of viewing thoughts as an experiential reality, meta-cognitive insight notices thoughts just as thoughts, with a focus on the individual’s relationship with the thoughts (i.e., not the content).

The structural basis of ACT is relational frame theory (RFT), which is a behavioral explanation of human language and cognition. RFT is applied broadly, so it can be used to understand social processes including religion and spirituality (Andersson & Asmundson, 2006). Interventions derived from RFT and used in ACT approach religious values and practices. In the ACT model, one aim is for the client’s willingness “to clarify life values; and to behave in accord with chosen values through behavioral commitment strategies” (Hayes, 2002).

A significant commonality between ACT and other spiritual traditions (e.g., Buddhism) is the rationale that all humans experience inescapable suffering and the specific role of attachment, mindfulness, valued actions, and issues surrounding self (Andersson & Asmundson, 2006, and Hayes, 2002). Both ACT and Buddhism note the inherent problem of viewing and attaching to this unwavering “self” as something that can be managed with mindfulness practices (2002). For example, a belief that “I am depressed” or “I am a bad person” is a belief one attaches to, which perpetuates further anxiety or suffering. Mindfulness can elicit awareness and acceptance of this process of identification by allowing the person to step back from the internal experience (Sparks, 2015).

Much of psychotherapy is a movement out of a negative state and into a desired, often positive direction. In ACT, the goal is to feel emotions in the context of living a valuable life, while resisting avoidance tactics (Hayes, 2002). There is only a subtle behavioral difference between Buddhist mindfulness practices and ACT, in that the former accepts or actively sits with the thoughts, while the latter focuses on changing the thoughts that get in the way of progress (2002).

Zen Buddhism inspired aspects of DBT, along with behavioral science and dialectical philosophy. The concepts of being whole, interconnected, and amenable to change are central to the dialectical view of the world (Neacsiu & Linehan, 2014). Buddhist dialect uses matching concepts: embodiment, interdependence, or co-arising and impermanence (Einstein, 2007). Zen Buddhism and DBT both focus on the here and now with radical acceptance and letting go of ego. People who use DBT are committed to developing a stable lifestyle (e.g., not engaging in self-harm or suicide) with nonjudgmental awareness and acceptance to reality (Neacsiu & Linehan, 2014).

The fat of the pre-modern (500 B.C.) tradition of Buddhism has been trimmed, and the leaner version (i.e., mindfulness) has migrated from desolate monasteries into empirical research and pop-psychology vernacular. Questions arise: Are the new-age psychotherapy practices religious? When teaching and conducting mindfulness-based practices, is it possible to parcel out the roots, allegiance, and ideology of its origin?

The structure of the DBT model from the perspective of clinicians mirrors the subtle paternalism occupied within DBT practice. Therapists are required to be part of a consultation team and/or a group with an almost dogmatic commitment to a list of rules (Neacsiu & Linehan, 2014). They must use compassion, properly assess problems before giving feedback, exercise assertiveness, emotionally repair with the team, as well as make agreements (e.g., no absolute truth, accept change as natural, empathic interpretations, fallibility). The guidelines are very reasonable and necessary for therapeutic alliance, but the process has an ideological structure one also finds within religious institutions.

In terms of beliefs, a DBT therapist must have a “willingness to believe in the client’s ability to change” (Neacsiu & Linehan, 2014, p. 429) and to use “irreverent communication,” offer “cheerleading,” as well as prescribe “punishments,” such as “vacations from therapy” (p. 437). Is this a conducted activity, behavior, and/or ideology that is conscious and methodic?

Hayes (2002) described Buddhism as the inclusion of “traditions of faith, ritual, practice, and community that are designed to support mindfulness and wholesome actions, and short of becoming a religion, no system of psychotherapy will include all of these elements” (p.65). Perhaps DBT merely falls short in the category of faith.

DBT therapists also use traditional metaphors, parable, and myth with people. They will at times “play devil’s advocate” in a practice called “extending” (Neacsiu & Linehan, 2014). In Zen Buddhism, to reduce dominate meaning of events, “koans” or stories are often “presented as verbal puzzles” as a provocation for questioning principles of reality through meditation (Hayes, 2002, and Fischer, 2013). The dialectic approach activates “What is being left out here?” while Zen koans, similarly, unearth “what is there when the puzzle is no more” (2002, p. 64). Both DBT and Buddhism aim for the individual to let go of their patterns of reactivity to relieve suffering (or in Buddhism, “dukkha”) (Einstein, 2007).

Applicability to Therapy Techniques

When applied to psychotherapy techniques, the separation of mindfulness practices from the origin—Buddhism—initially resulted in a secularization (2007). The cultural taboo of speaking about religion need not apply to “mindfulness” if it is a culturally accepted, therapeutic tool. Neuroscientist and mindfulness proponent Richard Davidson dedicated a chapter in his book, The Emotional Life of the Brain, to this process. He writes about keeping his meditation practice a secret based on perceived stigma or misunderstanding by colleagues. He speaks topically to the idea of spirituality and Buddhism, but there is no explicit mention of an affiliation with Buddhism.

The increasing segregation or nonconformity of “mindfulness” from Buddhism has actually created an independent spiritual practice (i.e., within modernity) that is being measured scientifically. This is akin to the obstinate historical nature of atheism against—largely—monotheistic religions. Although seemingly isolating, the active disbelief in God created a scientific movement (e.g., led by Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Daniel Dennett). The degree of this conscious extension of nonconformity essentially created a religion according to this article’s conceptualization (i.e., methodic and behavioral group ideology).

Buddhism is actually counter to our modern, Western culture. “Mindfulness” is a lighter version with more individualistic aspects (e.g., self-improvement, stress reduction). Buddhism is a radical, pre-modern tradition born within a society that emphasizes the collective “we” versus “I”. For individuals to learn mindfulness apart from Buddhist tradition and precepts is as arbitrary as the isolation of genuflecting prayer (e.g., Christianity) or “auditing” (i.e., Scientology) to use as singular tools for eradicating suffering. The dialectical question for contemporary mindfulness practice becomes: what are we leaving out?

References:

1. Andersson, G., & Asmundson, G. (2006). CBT and Religion. Editorial. Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (35): 1.
2. Castillo, R. (1997). Culture & Mental Illness: A Client-Centered Approach. Pacific Grove, CA: Brooks/Cole Publishing Company.
3. Davidson, R. J., & Begley, S. (2012). The Emotional Life of Your Brain: How Its Unique Patterns Affect the Way You Think, Feel, and Live—And How You Can Change Them. Hudson Street Press.
4. Einstein, D. A. (2007). Innovations and Advances in Cognitive Behaviour Therapy. Huxter, M.J.: Chapter 4 Mindfulness as Therapy from a Buddhist Perspective. Australian Academic Press.
5. Fischer, N. (2013). Training in Compassion: Zen Teachings on the Practice of Lojong. Shambhala Publications.
6. Frankl, V. (1959). Man’s Search for Meaning.
7. Germer, C.K. (2005). Mindfulness: What is it? What does it matter? In C.K. Germer, R.D. Siegel, & P.R. Fulton (Eds.), Mindfulness and Psychotherapy (pp. 3-27). New York: The Guilford Press.
8. Hayes, S. C. (2002). Buddhism and Acceptance and Commitment Therapy. Cognitive and Behavioral Practice: 9, 58-66.
9. Mohr, S. (2011). Integration of Spirituality and Religion in the Care of Patients with Severe Mental Disorders. Religions (2): 549-565.
10. Neacsiu, A. D., & Linehan, M. M. (2014). Dialectical Behavior Therapy for Borderline Personality Disorder. In: D.H. Barlow (ed.) Clinical Handbook of Psychological Disorders. Fifth Edition. New York: The Guildford Press 394-461.
11. Sparks, F. “Using Mindfulness in Your Practice: Wisdom and Compassion in Counseling and Coaching.” University of Wisconsin Continuing Studies Workshop. March 10-11, 2015. Madison, Wisconsin.

One of the principal aspects of mindfulness is acceptance of one’s experience in the present moment. This practice has numerous mental health benefits—but as you may have realized, it is easier said than done. When our experience is pleasant, it is easy for us to accept it; if our experience is unpleasant, we naturally want to reject it.

Why would we want to stay with unpleasant feelings? Humans naturally try to repress, distract from, project, or employ other defense mechanisms in order to not feel what is unpleasant. This obviously has degrees, and the more painful an experience is, the harder our systems work to get it out of our consciousness. So here we are, told that we need to “be with our experience,” yet our natural tendency is to run away from it. What to do?

The good news is that as we develop our capacity to be with our experience, it becomes easier. It’s much like going to the gym: initially it is very hard and we resist it, but the more we train, the easier it gets and the more we actually want to do it. When we begin to sense and feel the benefits of being with ourselves, we naturally begin to do it without as much effort.

Here are some ways to make the process easier:

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1. Start Exactly Where You Are

This is probably the most important aspect of being able to be with our experience. As much as we might like to, we simply cannot bypass our experience and be in an idealized place we think we should be. To work with any internal state, we have to be exactly where we are.

For example, we may be feeling a difficult emotion such as disgust, but then may also have a strong reaction to the disgust. We have to work with the reaction before we can really focus on the disgust. If we try to bypass the reaction by saying something like, “I need to accept my disgust,” then we are missing our reactivity. And that is the first layer we need to be with.

2. Allow Rather Than Accept

Similar to the previous point, we cannot force our acceptance of something; we can only have a disposition or attitude toward it. If we are feeling something difficult and telling ourselves, “I need to accept it,” we likely won’t be able to do it.

In a way, acceptance happens on its own and in its own time. The best we can do is try our best to allow: we allow the fact we don’t want to accept whatever feelings we have. We may say something like, “I don’t like this feeling of sadness and I’ll try to be with it, even if I don’t want to feel it.” At the same time, we also allow the fact we don’t like the sadness.

3. Be Curious

Becoming curious about our experience is a key element in navigating our internal world. The more we develop the capacity to observe without judgment, the more we will be able to discover about ourselves.

Becoming curious about our experience is a key element in navigating our internal world. The more we develop the capacity to observe without judgment, the more we will be able to discover about ourselves.

One way to develop curiosity is to adopt the attitude of a biologist doing naturalistic observations. A biologist wanting to understand the behaviors of lions in Africa, for instance, has the goal of simply observing the animals in their natural environment without interfering. They would not say, “Oh, this lion should not be eating that gazelle.” Rather, they would patiently observe and record what they notice. If they intervened and tried to distract the lion in order to save the gazelle, they would not be able to see exactly how the lion behaves naturally.

We can take that same attitude toward our inner landscape. We can notice our emotions, body sensations, and thoughts and not interfere with them. We simply notice what we see and try our best to suspend judgment of what should be happening. With time and patience, we begin to see connections and patterns that reveal a deeper understanding of ourselves.

4. Ask Questions of Your Internal Experience

Sometimes I will feel deep sadness inside and my tendency is to try to make myself feel different. But sometimes, I’ll directly ask my sadness what it needs. “How can I be with you in the most supportive way?” “What do you need?”

As much I don’t want to feel my experience at times, it is there for a reason—and the more open to understanding it that I am, the greater its chances of truly transforming. If I let my inner experience have a life of its own and honor its needs, it will likely reveal its cause and purpose.

5. Find Balance Between Challenge and Support

There may be times when your inner experience feels unbearable, and observing it directly may be very difficult. At such times, it may not be wise to try to stay with it; finding a source of comfort and support may be the better thing to do. This is true particularly if you have trauma in your history. In these cases, staying with difficult material may be counterproductive.

6. Respond with Flexibility

We are complex beings, and there is no one formula to dealing with our inner experience. Each time we meet ourselves, something different may be required.

An important skill we must develop is flexibility of response. At any given moment, any of these tips may be counterproductive, and at another time they may be exactly what we need. With practice, we become more flexible and attuned to what is most supportive at any given moment.

7. Remember That You Are Only Human

As committed as we may be to our inner transformation, we will generally fall short of our expectations. The truth is, the faster we are able to forgive ourselves—to be kind to the parts of us that feel shameful and that we can barely tolerate—the more chances for peace we have.

In addition, being able to let go of the self-improvement project is crucial. The very fact of wanting to improve ourselves implies a rejection of our present-moment experience or circumstances. As much as you are able, try to let go of any ideas of “making yourself better” and focus instead on accepting (or allowing) your experience be exactly what it is.

8. Recognize That Help Is Needed

We can’t do this alone; I don’t know anyone who can or has. In my own work, I have a tremendous capacity to fool myself and stay stuck in repetitive patterns for long periods. If it were not for the help and wisdom of others who have helped me in my process, I probably would not be where I am today.

The sooner we begin to allow others to guide and help us, rather than trying to figure it out on our own, the sooner our inner journey becomes so much easier. If you need help, please seek the support of a qualified therapist.

As Roger—not his real name—sensed his body, he began to notice a deep contraction in his heart that pained him deeply. He had been hearing from his meditation teachers that he had to stay with it and continue sensing his body no matter what, even if he felt emotional pain.

Given how much faith he had in the method, he followed the instructions diligently, even though his emotional response was too overwhelming to put aside. The pain became so intense that it began to feel like sharp shards of glass inside his chest—and he began experiencing deep rage that turned against himself.

“What is wrong with me that I can’t do this?” he thought. Images of self-injury and hitting himself began to flood his mind. He didn’t know what to do with this level of self-hatred. At the same time, he was determined to stay with his body at all costs.

At that point, he had two opposing forces inside him that kept him frozen in great emotional pain and intrusive mental images. Finally, the intensity became so strong that he jumped up and bolted from the meditation hall, running out toward nature, where he found relief at last.

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Roger’s heart was pounding, and his level of arousal was too much for his nervous system to tolerate. He wept deeply. As a result of his intense meditation, Roger experienced a resurfacing of old trauma that he did not even know he had. This incident happened to Roger many years ago, on the sixth day of a silent 10-day Vipassana retreat. The episode had a big impact on his well-being, and he didn’t learn how to deal with it until years later, after much therapy.

Roger’s experience at the retreat can happen for anyone who engages in deep meditation and carries a great deal of unprocessed or unconscious trauma. “I didn’t even know back then that I had such a level of trauma. I thought everybody had so much difficulty being with themselves, and I naively also thought that meditation was the grand cure-all,” Roger told me during a session.

Although meditation can be a great support for many of us and can even be helpful in dealing with psychological difficulties, it can also trigger traumatic responses that may need further processing. Without appropriate guidance, meditation can be more of a stressor than a support for some people.

Unconscious Trauma

Trauma is the result of our nervous systems being overwhelmed by experiences that we are unable to tolerate and process. This can be the result of a single life-threatening event, or of repeated stressors accumulating over time. Trauma is particularly devastating if we’re young and vulnerable, so early traumatic experiences tend to have deep impacts that, as adults, we may be completely unconscious of. Mindfulness meditation can reopen these old wounds, and without appropriate support, anyone can get lost in these deeply painful experiences.

One common meditation technique that is taught at many mindfulness courses and retreats is the body scan. During this practice, participants bring their attention to their body sensations in a methodical way. This is a great tool to develop sensitivity and self-awareness. However, as we sensitize ourselves to our bodies, we may end up encountering previously unconscious trauma.

Titration Is Key

Titration is a concept borrowed from chemistry that Peter Levine, creator of the Somatic Experiencing method, uses to illustrate how to approach traumatic material. Levine (2010) gives the example that if one were to mix two reactive chemical compounds all at once, the result would be an explosion. However, if one uses a glass valve and mixes them one drop at a time, the result would be safe; each drop creates a small, manageable fizzle.

The same principle applies when working with trauma. If we are able to turn our attention back and forth between sources of support (e.g., pleasant bodily sensations, views, or touch) and the safer edges of a difficult inner experience, we have a much better chance of working effectively with the traumatic material than if we try to simply stay present with the material all at once. This takes a great deal of skill and is very difficult to do without support. If we don’t know how to titrate or skillfully work with the challenging sensations that can arise, we can end up retraumatizing ourselves.

Not All Retreats Are Created Equal

A meditation retreat can be a fantastic way to deepen your meditation practice and develop your capacity to be with experience. Meditation retreats are also great for giving us a continuous experience of presence; during sustained meditation practice, after a couple of days you can experience deep levels of absorption and profound wellness. But not all meditation retreats are the same.

If you know you have trauma and are engaged in serious meditation practice, be cautious and seek help to deal with it.

Depending on the tradition and the teachers, retreat leaders may or may not have psychological experience or expertise with trauma. The good news is that, nowadays, many meditation teachers are informed about trauma, and some even get training in working with it. In order to work with your own trauma at a meditation retreat, flexibility is important. Allowing yourself to deviate from the schedule and seek support with teachers or nature can make all the difference.

The retreat mentioned at the beginning of this article was not very flexible. Its guidelines were strict, and it was designed for people to achieve deep levels of concentration—a format that can be fantastic for someone with a relatively intact ego structure, but retraumatizing for someone with deep trauma, as it was for Roger.

It’s about Staying with Our Experience

Staying with our experience without trying to change it is at the core of mindfulness meditation practice. This practice has many benefits, such as developing self-acceptance and self-awareness. However, staying with ourselves does not mean we have to bear inner torture. If an experience feels overwhelming, it is probably not helpful to stay with it in a continuous way. At this point, finding an external resource such as nature or someone to support us becomes more important than staying directly with the experience.

If you know you have trauma and are engaged in serious meditation practice, be cautious and seek help to deal with it. Part of doing inner work consists of discovering the right balance between challenging and supporting ourselves; when trauma is present, this point tends to be skewed toward either too much challenge or complete avoidance of the situation that triggers the trauma. Neither approach will help you metabolize and transform traumatic psychological imprints. This is why having someone to help you traverse this difficult territory is key.

In sum, mindfulness meditation is a fantastic tool for supporting our well-being, and if taken seriously, it can truly transform our lives. However, because it is a serious practice, it can reopen old wounds in unsuspecting participants, so please be careful and seek the guidance of a trained therapist if you know you have trauma in your background.

Reference:

Levine, P. A. In an Unspoken Voice: How the Body Releases Trauma and Restores Goodness. Berkeley: North Atlantic, 2010.

Anxiety can show itself in many forms. Some can be very painful and impairing, and we may need professional help to deal with them. But anxiety is something that everyone experiences at different times, and there’s something you can do about it.

One powerful tool that can help you navigate anxiety is mindfulness. Being aware of the present moment without judging it, and allowing experience to happen without trying to change it, can free you from the pain of your anxiety as well as help you understand its underlying causes.

But how do you do this? Like anxiety itself, the answer to this question is multifaceted. Anxiety manifests through our moment-to-moment thoughts, emotions, and body sensations. We suffer a great deal when we reject what’s actually happening in our moment-to-moment experience; by recognizing our habits of trying to “get rid of” experience, we can ease unnecessary suffering. What’s more, we can begin to understand the deeper, underlying causes of our anxiety.

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Thinking Plays a Big Role

Our thinking patterns greatly influence how we see ourselves, others, and the world at large. As a consequence of our early interactions with caregivers, peers, and society, we create various thought patterns that continue to evolve throughout our lifetimes. Most of the time, we’re unaware of these patterns, so they can end up dictating a great deal of our lives.

For example, if as a child you were repeatedly told by your father that you weren’t good at something (or, conversely, that you were amazing at something), you likely internalized that message and it became part of your identity. You act accordingly and believe you aren’t good enough (or amazing) at that particular activity. And if you find yourself faced with the activity you believe you aren’t good at, you may experience anxiety, and doing the activity may be very difficult. In such situations, it’s as if we become that 6-year-old all over again.

Having a mindfulness practice can help us see our actual process of thinking, giving us some space from our thoughts. The next time you tell yourself that you can’t do something or that it’s too difficult, pay close attention to the tone of voice and words you’re using; you may recognize it as the voice of an influential person growing up. At this point, you may begin to appreciate that the thinking is not really “yours,” but an internalized voice.

With mindfulness, you can become aware of the thoughts without identifying with them. Again, this isn’t easy, and you may take a long time to get there—but it is absolutely possible. The more we practice mindfulness, the more this capacity develops.

What about Feelings?

Emotions are inevitable; we experience them all the time. Some are pleasant, and some are unpleasant. As humans, we tend to avoid the unpleasant ones and grasp for the pleasant ones. When we’re experiencing anxiety, our emotions can be especially difficult to tolerate, and we may try to suppress or get rid of them. The problem is, by doing this we perpetuate a rejection of ourselves, creating a negative feedback loop.

By developing a mindfulness practice, little by little you can begin to tolerate the emotional quality of anxiety, to the point that it becomes manageable. When you allow your experience to be what it is, it loses power over your sense of well-being. As with our thoughts, this skill takes time to learn, but it is very real. They key here is to practice.

Besides anxiety management, another important benefit that comes from emotional mindfulness is that we increase our capacity to know and understand our feelings. Many people experience anxiety because they lack a direct awareness of the emotions behind it. The more we became comfortable with our emotions, the deeper we see behind them and the less influence they have over us.

As you might sense, we miss out on a great sense of aliveness and dynamism when we live in our heads.

Everything Happens in the Body

Our bodies are our main vehicles for moving through life. They carry a tremendous amount of information, yet for the most part in modern society, we’ve lost touch with them. Emotions begin in the body, and so anxiety can show itself in the body, too, in ways such as contraction in the chest, heart palpitations, tightness in the stomach, and so on. As we develop the capacity to sense into our bodies, we can pick up on our different emotions earlier. We can also more easily see the impact others and the environment have on us.

At least in the West, most of us ignore our physical sensations and experience the world through thinking. Some of us take emotional life into account, but very few actually incorporate the body’s experience into our worldview. It makes a tremendous difference in our quality of life when we do. As you might sense, we miss out on a great sense of aliveness and dynamism when we live in our heads.

Ultimately, We Must Integrate All Three

Thoughts, emotions, and body sensations are not discrete, separate categories. The truth is, the three are complex and intertwined, affecting each other in many ways. Practicing mindfulness helps us to notice how our thoughts impact how we feel, how our feelings impact how tense our bodies are, and how our physical experience impacts our thoughts and feelings. The great news is that by becoming aware of any one of these processes, all of them begin to shift, harmonize, and flow.

As I’ve mentioned in previous articles, although it’s possible to practice mindfulness alone, it’s beneficial to have a coach, guide, teacher, or therapist who can help you track your progress and notice when you encounter one of the many pitfalls along the way. Sometimes anxiety can increase when we begin paying attention to our long-ignored experiences. Sometimes anxiety is masking psychological trauma, and opening this up without appropriate support can be counterproductive. If you want to reduce your anxiety and reap the full benefits of mindfulness, seeking guidance is crucial to your practice.

Andrea woke up feeling great and full of energy. She grabbed a bagel and a coffee on her way to the bus station and ate it on the bus to work. She arrived on time and proceeded to the conference room for an early meeting with her team. During the meeting, Andrea noticed her boss giving her what she perceived as a disapproving look, and became deflated as a result. All her energy was suddenly gone, and an inner voice began telling her an all-too-familiar message: “What did you do this time?” “The fact that your boss is looking at you like that means she’s heavily disappointed in your mediocre way of working!” “If you keep cutting corners, you’re going to lose your job!”

Meet Andrea’s inner critic: the voice that comments on her experience, criticizing her and describing how (awful) things supposedly are, regardless of the actual circumstances.

The inner critic is composed of ideas, beliefs, emotions, thoughts, and voices that try to manage our experience by telling us when we’re doing something right or wrong. We acquire this internalized structure as young children, and it continues to develop throughout our lives. It was initially shaped through our interaction with our environment. As young children, we are completely dependent on our caregivers. Even if they are for the most part responsive and attuned, they don’t always respond to us in ways that support our needs. Depending on their own conditioning, they try to shape us in ways that conform to their perception of reality.

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This can happen in many ways, such as punishment when we don’t behave the way they want us to, or reinforcement when we behave the way they do want us to. This shaping also happens subtly, from simple looks of disapproval or the opposite. Since we are totally dependent on their care, we begin to repress our aliveness and dynamism in order to adapt to how they expect us to behave—avoiding behaviors or expressions that will trigger punishment or disapproval, and doing what will bring their approval. Eventually, we end up internalizing our caregiver’s punishment-and-reward system, and it begins to limit both our worldview and our range of action. In a way, the inner critic is an inner police force that holds in check anything that deviates from our habitual, known patterns of experience and action.

Our caregivers aren’t the only ones influencing the development of the inner critic. Our schools, the environment around us, society, and basically any external input will contribute to creating this inner structure.

It’s important to point out that depending on our upbringing, our inner critic can be very harsh and painful or subtle and harder to notice. However, pretty much everyone has an inner critic that limits his or her expression in the world. In order to grow and develop, we must learn to work with this inner structure.

Breaking Out of Your Comfort Zone

One way of defining “inner work” is understanding and dissolving the internal structures that obstruct our perception of reality. This way of seeing is a direct threat to our conditioned sense of self and sense of reality, so the inner critic, understandably, is going to do everything and anything in its power to discourage us to continue pursuing our work.

Therefore, one of the first structures we must understand and work with is the inner critic. As long as we have an inner voice criticizing us or scaring us about going deeper into ourselves, it will be difficult to progress.

Identifying the Inner Critic’s Triggers

There is no formula for working with the inner critic. Each person’s process is unique, and different techniques may work differently for different people.

Any time you feel guilt, the inner critic is playing its part. There’s a difference between feeling guilt and feeling remorse. The latter is a genuine feeling of pain about the consequences of one’s actions. Guilt, on the other hand, is a self-defeating pattern of making yourself “bad” as a consequence of doing something perceived as wrong. Many times when we feel guilty there is also genuine remorse, and there may be an objective aspect of your behavior to recognize in the situation, but the extra layer of “I am bad for such-and-such” is just plain inner critic impeding us from growing.

Other times, the inner critic lurks when we’re about to embark on a new venture and we feel afraid. It can show up as a critical voice, saying, “You can’t do this” or “Who are you trying to fool?” It can also say, “This is dangerous, don’t even try it!” No matter what it says, the point is it attempts to keep us from engaging in the new endeavor. Identifying the triggers of your inner critic is key to the growth process.

The inner critic is composed of ideas, beliefs, emotions, thoughts, and voices that try to manage our experience by telling us when we’re doing something right or wrong. We acquire this internalized structure as young children, and it continues to develop throughout our lives.

Developing an Awareness Practice

The next step in working with the inner critic consists of learning how to identify its different voices. It can show up with a subtle, seductive voice, as an outright nasty attack, or something in between. By developing presence of mind through mindfulness meditation or other awareness practices, we can begin to notice when it’s lurking. The more identified we are with it, the harder it will be to notice when it is in action. By having a solid foundational awareness practice, in time you’ll be able to discern the inner critic in action.

One of the great benefits of mindfulness is that it allows us to observe our inner phenomena without identifying with them, so by being mindful of our thinking, feeling, and body sensations, we begin to see the different ways the inner critic shows up. Working with the inner critic is a lifelong endeavor, and as we progress on the path, we work with subtler and subtler ways in which the inner critic tries to sabotage our development.

Disidentifying from the Inner Critic

When we recognize that we have been attacked by the inner critic, we can experiment by switching our internal voice to the second person: “You are such-and-such!” This can be powerful in revealing the impact the voice is having. I have seen people in therapy begin to notice how harsh and brutal the energy is when they try this. Learning to see the inner critic as an external attack coming toward us, as opposed to being completely identified with it, is essential to neutralizing its power.

Using the Power of Anger to Regain Our Strength

The energy that fuels the inner critic is our own inherent aliveness and strength that’s being hijacked and used against us. At times, the criticism we give ourselves can be harsh and aggressive, and may require a strong defense.

Once we identify an attack and regard it as coming from the outside, we can experiment defending with a strong stand against the attack. Anything from a karate chop in the air to a simple “Get off my back!” with the right tone can be effective; it’s important to experiment and find what works for you. The purpose here is to reclaim our strength, so the energy, tone, and way we do this can be very different from person to person.

Effectively Using Compassion

Sometimes a forceful defense may not be effective, and a more gentle approach may be what’s needed. Simply getting in touch with the pain the attack produces in us and feeling compassion for our suffering can be a powerful way to disarm the critic. When the full force of self-compassion is present, any shred of attack will likely melt away.

Having an Ally Is a Must

Inner work isn’t easy, and navigating our inner landscape can be very confusing, so having an ally in the form of a therapist, teacher, or coach is imperative when going into the deeper aspects of working with the inner critic. Although each of the strategies mentioned above is helpful in giving you space from the critic, for deeper work you must also develop an embodied, contextual understanding of its origins, its impact, its phenomenology as a structure, and its energy. This requires a commitment to going into places inside of us that are old, hidden, and scary. It is difficult to do this alone, so the help of a compassionate therapist or other professional will make your work easier.

“You yourself, as much as anybody else in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.” —Buddha

As I write this, I can feel anxiety in my entire body; my legs are restless, my toes are tapping, and there are butterflies in my stomach twirling and diving, with some going on bombing missions. Thoughts are flying across the screen of my mind at the speed of light. My inner dialogue/landscape is one of charred wood and dead grass as I search to find the “right” words that will enlighten readers. In this barren wasteland of blank thoughts, I see a little pink flower that seems to be calling from afar, but, alas, it’s not to be! It’s only a figment of my imagination.

In my mind, I see no other recourse than to surrender and shout out, “I give up! This is too hard!” while another voice suggests, “Don’t you think this would be a great time to rearrange the furniture?” All the while, the wise part of me looks on with patience and compassion, nodding her head as she says, “Now, my dear, you know what you need to do.”

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I do know what I need to do, but I still wonder why, after all these years of writing, a deadline can bring up feelings of dread similar to those you get when the dentist informs you that you’re in need of a root canal. Unfortunately, I know the answer to this; and no, I am not as wise as Yoda! I happen to be very well acquainted with the inner critic, and I know that as soon as there’s a deadline looming on the horizon, the inner critic perks up, rubs her hands together with glee, laughs maniacally, and shouts with jubilation, “I knew sooner or later you’d need my help!” Hearing this, I turn to her, send her an imaginary bow of acknowledgment, and say, “It’s OK. I appreciate the offer, but I can do this on my own.” I lovingly guide her back to the meditation cushion and ask her to help by sending thoughts of loving kindness and compassion.

Unveiling the Inner Critic

“While others may fool us with stories, lies, and misinformation, the biggest deceptions happen within our very own heads!” —Dana Nourie

We all have an inner critic that gets activated when there is a sign of trouble or danger on the horizon. It shows up when we’re most vulnerable, fearful, or sad. It’s the scolding, critical, manipulative, and intimidating inner voice that is trying to help us stay safe. It can also sound like background noise; the voice is there, but we’ve gotten so used to it that we don’t hear it. When we don’t notice this inner dialogue, we may end up believing these thoughts, which creates even deeper suffering. So it’s important to recognize when the inner critic is present.

Below are just a few examples of how the inner critic shows up:

• The controller: This is the voice that constantly demands action. It can say things like, “You’re a lazy slob! Get up and do those dishes right now!” or, “Hurry up and finish that project or you’ll be fired!”
• The judge: This is the voice that sits on the high bench, evaluating and finding fault with your performance before you even begin the task. For example, you’re going to a new part of town and don’t have a good sense of direction. The judge immediately perks up, telling you, “You’re so hopeless with directions! You couldn’t find your way out of a paper bag!”
• The voice of doom and gloom: This is the fearful voice that’s always sending messages filled with shame and doubt. So you might have brought a beautiful dress that you’ve been longing to wear, and as you look in the mirror, this part starts sending warnings of upcoming failure. “Are you sure you really want to wear THAT? You’re going to be the laughingstock of the party!”

See the Vulnerability Beneath the Defense

Sometimes it helps to visualize the inner critic as a scared child. Most of us would respond with compassion if we saw a child suffering. Sometimes when I notice the critical self-talk in action, I’ll envision the fear as a child. I see the inner critic as a little girl who’s wearing an oversized lab coat and a hard hat. She stands anxiously watching over a grid with many blinking, colorful lights. While the grid contains a kaleidoscope of beautiful flashing colors, the inner critic ignores the beauty and instead is waiting for the moment when the grid flashes red.

Why red? Because it represents danger. (Think of stop signs, traffic lights, hazard lights, and ambulances.) When the illusion of trouble enters the mind, the grid flashes red, an alarm goes off, and a loud voice starts the countdown toward self-destruction. The inner critic immediately goes to work trying to avert danger in any way she can, and the negative self-talk begins. So the inner critic will say things such as, “You’re such a loser! No wonder creative thoughts don’t stick around! I’d leave too, if I could!” If I believe these thoughts, I might get paralyzed and stop myself from doing something that helps others and brings me joy. If instead I learn to look beyond the critical self-talk, I can begin to connect with the vulnerability beneath the defenses.

If I look beyond the inner critic and defensive stance, I see the feelings of vulnerability and fear. There’s fear of failure—that I won’t accomplish the task correctly or that I’ll lose my connection to what matters most. When I pause to connect through the practice of mindfulness and recognize that fear is present, I can begin to respond in ways that are healing and compassionate. This clear seeing of what is really happening beyond views of good/bad is essential in order for us to soothe the inner critic.

Before we get there, let’s take a deeper look at why and how fear triggers the inner critic.

Fear: False Evidence Appearing Real

We all face fear at one time or another. Sometimes many times a day! Fear shows up for the major events of our lives. It also shows up for the small, everyday activities, such as not getting to an appointment on time, getting into an argument with a close friend, etc. What transforms the fear into suffering isn’t the feeling itself; it’s how we react to it.

It’s also important to note that when fear arises it triggers our fight, flight, and freeze or submit response, which was essential for the survival of our species. After all, if our ancestors weren’t alert to the dangers they faced when they were out hunting for food, we wouldn’t be here today.

The problem is that most of the threats we face are intense reactions that go off when our self-concept is threatened. This makes sense, as we are social animals and our connection to each other and life is important to our well-being. However, when we react as if our very life is threatened, we end up adding suffering to what is often a moment of pain. As Dr. Kristin Neff writes in her book Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself:

We confuse our thoughts and representations of ourselves for our actual selves, meaning that when our self-image is under siege, we react as if our very existence is threatened. When this happens, our threat defense system uses the same strategies to stay safe as follows:

• Fight: We turn on ourselves, we criticize, blame, shame, and belittle ourselves.
• Flight: Feeling anxious and agitated, we seek to numb the pain by using distractions such as food, alcohol, gambling, or other distractions.
• Freeze: We get caught up in a holding pattern of thoughts. We ruminate on what we see as our inadequacies and weaknesses.
• Submit: We resign ourselves and accept our harsh and critical self-judgment, which leaves us feeling unworthy and ashamed.

This overreaction can leave us feeling highly anxious, depressed, and angry with ourselves, others, and the world, and this can lead us to limit our experiences in life and relationships.

How the Inner Critic Limits Our Lived Experience

“We get identified with patterns of thought and this leads to repetitive behaviors, these repetitive behaviors become who we are. We stop growing because we limit out experiences.” —Steve Armstrong, dharma talk on Greeting Visitors to the Mind

The truth is that we hurt ourselves when we lock ourselves in a mental cage, and the sad part is that the fear we are trying to avoid is in the cage with us.

I remember listening to a talk by meditation teacher Tara Brach on how fear affects us. She shared a moving story about a white tiger called Mohini, who lived in a 12-by-12-foot rectangular cage at the zoo in Washington, D.C. The tiger spent her days restlessly pacing within the small enclosure, and eventually the staff and biologists worked to create a natural habitat for her. This was a beautiful space with hills, trees, and a pond to swim in.

When Mohini was transferred to her new surroundings, everyone expected she would feel free to explore this wide-open space. The moment she was released, she “immediately sought refuge in a corner of the compound, where she lived for the remainder of her life. Mohini paced and paced in that corner until an area 12 by 12 feet was worn bare of grass.”

We similarly confine ourselves to certain patterns that limit our ability to fully experience life. The inner critic becomes the gatekeeper—in charge of keeping us contained within these limits, where there is an illusion of safety. The truth is that we hurt ourselves when we lock ourselves in a mental cage, and the sad part is that the fear we are trying to avoid is in the cage with us. Recognizing how we’re reacting to the inner critic, to our thoughts and feelings, is an important step toward helping ourselves reconnect to this moment. Just as important is our ability to practice self-compassion in the face of pain.

Self-Compassion Helps Soothe the Inner Critic

“With self-compassion, we give ourselves the same kindness and care we’d give to a good friend.” —Dr. Kristin Neff

Dr. Neff describes self-compassion as “quieting of one’s inner critic and replacing it with a voice of support, understanding, and care for one’s self.” So we treat ourselves with the same compassion and kindness we show others who are suffering. This can be challenging, as our defenses were developed over many years and show up as patterns of behavior that often stop us from being vulnerable. What helps us to shift out of these patterns is meeting our experience with mindfulness, acceptance, and compassion. As Neff points out in her book, there are three elements to the practice, as follows:

Practicing self-kindness, we:

• Let go of pursuing perfection
• Accept that, in life, things don’t always go according to plan
• Learn to recognize and accept that pain is a part of life
• Meet pain with kindness and compassion instead of self-condemnation and harsh judgment

Common humanity means that we:

• Are all vulnerable, earthly, and imperfect beings
• Suffering and feelings of inadequacy are felt by everyone, and this is part of our shared human experience.
• We all walk the path of life together; sometimes the path is smooth and pleasant, and sometimes it’s unpleasant; strewn with obstacles and challenges.

We meet our moment-to-moment experience by:

• Observing our moment-to-moment experience (thoughts, feelings, and behaviors) in a nonjudgmental manner
• Noticing how these thoughts affect our body, mind, and heart
• If we’re overwhelmed, we help ourselves by practicing mindfulness of breathing (shift your attention from thoughts to the sensation of the breath coming in and the breath flowing out).
• As we feel more centered, we can begin to notice how emotions are affecting our body (emotions are felt as physical sensations in the body). We allow the thoughts to be there without feeding them.
• Noticing tension, emotional or physical pain, we bring a feeling of kindness and compassion to our experience and begin to soften around the tension.
• Sending love to the inner critic or the part of us that is caught up in thoughts, stories, or limiting beliefs

Mindfulness and Compassion Foster Healing and Growth

Mindfulness and self-compassion help us to see how we are limiting ourselves. We see and feel the barriers we’re constructing around our hearts, and in seeing them we can begin to explore what is happening within the mind that’s causing us to build the wall. We free our hearts as we explore with a real desire to understand, to open to the pain and meet it with compassion and loving kindness. This leads us to have moments of mindfulness, where the mind is free of ruminating, judging, planning, and obsessing, and a mind that is free of torment is loving, clear, understanding, equanimous, and easeful.

As I write this last line, I pause to check in with the inner critic. I see that she’s still sitting on the meditation cushion, sending thoughts of loving kindness, and on her face is a look of profound peace.

“I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.” —Rabindranath Tagore

One of the ways we come into balance and connection with each other and life is by giving from the heart. When we give to others, whether it’s an act of kindness, generosity, or compassion, it helps us live from the heart instead of the ego.

Living from the ego is painful and exhausting. It’s like feeding a hungry monster that’s never satisfied. Ego craves, pursues, and clings to status, approval, material wealth, and control. It views the world through the eyes of fear—constantly evaluating, judging, and acting in ways that are self-centered, defensive, and protective. Ego is about getting more, which leaves little room for generosity or compassion.

In contrast, generosity requires that we open our hearts to the world and each other. We accept that in life there are challenges, and we meet these challenges with humility, patience, and compassion. This is the work of the spiritual warrior, to open our hearts and allow ourselves to be vulnerable. In doing this, we open ourselves fully to life, love, and relationships.

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The practice of generosity also helps us let go of striving and pursuing things. When we stop striving, we begin to see, value, and respond to what’s happening in the present moment in ways that are healthy and healing. This movement from striving, to be present and open to life, is what nourishes the heart. In responding and valuing our connection to others and the world, we let go of an “us-versus-them” mentality. Our priority shifts from attaining things to appreciating what we have and being open to share with others.

Greed vs. Generosity

“Thoughts rooted in greed, hatred and delusion lead to disharmony and suffering. Thoughts rooted in generosity, loving-friendliness, compassion and wisdom lead to harmony and peace.” —The Buddha

The opposite of generosity is greed. When we view life through the eyes of greed, our hearts are closed off and we suffer. We become small, fearful, and contracted, and view ourselves as lacking some elusive thing (material, spiritual, emotional, physical). This is much like the character Scrooge, who lived a lonely, bitter, and resentful life. On the outside, Scrooge appeared to be a grumpy, mean-spirited, and stingy man, but under this tough exterior was a fearful and vulnerable person who wanted connection but was afraid of it.

If we’re honest with ourselves, each of us has moments where we engage in Scrooge-like behavior. We get caught up in a “me, mine, I” mentality. We compare ourselves to others and either feel superior or inferior/inadequate. When we act in ways that feed the ego/greed, we lose our vital connection to the life around and within us. Generosity, which opens our hearts to each other and life, falls by the wayside.

Joy Arises from a Generous Heart

“There is no exercise better for the heart than reaching down and lifting people up.” —John Holmes

In the book The How of Happiness, author Sonja Lyubomirsky states that “being kind and generous leads us to perceive others more positively and more charitably. It fosters a heightened sense of interdependence and cooperation in our social community.”

Generosity is a quality of kindness, of living from a place of abundance. When we act with kindness and generosity, we see the world through a clear lens that isn’t clouded by fear, wanting, or clinging. Our eyes are open to see life as it is, instead of how we want it to be. When we interact with others, our connection is genuine and based on a sincere concern for each other’s well-being. We see people instead of judgments or labels.

This may sound confusing at first, but think about it. How many times do you interact with people without really seeing them? When you go to the grocery store, do you see a“person” or a “cashier”? What about your spouse/significant other? Do you see the living, feeling, vulnerable loved one, or do you see a “service provider”? Generosity allows us to cultivate a heart-to-heart connection.

Start a Generosity Movement and Watch What Happens

“To live a pure unselfish life, one must count nothing as one’s own in the midst of abundance.” —The Buddha

I’d love for us to start a generosity movement where the goal is to act from a place of goodwill and give without expecting anything back. I’m not advocating that we give up all our worldly goods, and it’s not about giving to the point of depriving ourselves. It’s about living a balanced life and sharing with others. Too often we live from the viewpoint of “me, mine, and I.” When we do something or give to others, we expect to get something in return. Sometimes we’re not even aware of this expectation. We only become aware of it when a feeling of resentment arises, or when we feel as if we’re taken for granted. If instead we offered time, care, a hug, etc., from place of generosity, we may experience a warm feeling inside and in the live connection that is present in the moment of sharing.

Being generous arises from the heart, not the wallet. We don’t need to have material wealth in order to be generous. The only requirement is a willingness to open our hearts, to see life as it is, and to interact with others from a place of compassion and love. Some examples of generous acts are:

• Do a household chore without being asked.
• Offer to buy lunch for someone.
• If someone is in need of emotional support, set aside what you’re doing and listen with compassion.
• Hold or open the door for someone (it doesn’t matter if they thank you; what matters is the intention to be kind and generous).
• Tell your loved ones what you appreciate about them (this is a beautiful gift, as you’re letting them know you value them).
• Spend time listening to your children and try to see the world through their eyes before offering advice.
• Take time out of your busy schedule to spend quality time with a loved one.
• Smile at a stranger.
• When you ask, “How are you?” look into the person’s eyes and take time to truly listen with an attitude of curiosity and compassion.

For this week, pick a few activities from the list above and be mindful of your experience. Remember that generosity awakens goodness in the heart and this helps us open to life, love, and relationships.

May you be well!