I’m not perfect.

Although I write a lot about the value of daily meditation and mindfulness practice, that doesn’t mean I never miss a meditation. It doesn’t mean that life doesn’t also sweep me away sometimes to the point that I fall out of routine.

I’m human.

In the past, I’d beat myself up over missing a meditation.

And honestly, there are still shades of disappointment these days when I miss one. But I’ve also cultivated a much different attitude about it.

Instead of getting so discouraged and down on myself that I want to stop practicing altogether, I look for ways to practice being mindful in day-to-day life. Essentially, seeking situations where I can drop into a meditative state by using mindfulness practices to sink into the present moment.

Those practices are beautiful reminders that the real value of being present isn’t just found in formal meditation.

The real magic happens when presence creates a shift in our state.

Instead of being lost in thought and carried away by the rivers of story, we feel our bodies relax into what’s actually here.

And we can do that by practicing mindfulness throughout the day.

Here are a few examples I’ve explored in the past.

Embodied Listening

This practice helps us connect deeply with others.

When someone is speaking, embodied listening sets the intention to relax into the body and allow the speaker’s words to wash over us without judgment — just the body feeling into the vibrations of the spoken words.

The power of this practice is unbelievable.

Each time I practice, someone’s words will strike surges of energy throughout my system — a true felt sense of what they’re saying. It taps into the feeling tones that live under every word.

And when we’re able to tap into the felt sense, we begin to make heartfelt connections.

A gift that holds value far beyond formal practice.

Cleaning

No matter the chore, it’s an opportunity to cultivate concentration.

Settling attention into one thing at a time creates a subtle joy and contentment that’s nearly unexplainable. The only way I can describe it is being completely okay with what’s going on without any desire to change anything.

Luckily, we can tap into that energy through mindfulness.

And in this case, mindful cleaning.

Feeling the warm water from the faucet as I rinsed and loaded dishes brought a simple smile to my face, along with a dash of satisfaction and excitement. The dishwashing process brought so much satisfaction because I was able to connect deeply to the experience of washing dishes.

I can’t say that was my experience for every chore!

But even the unpleasant ones brought satisfaction because the unpleasantness was always short-lived.

Freewriting

Freewriting is the practice of writing without stopping or overthinking. I try to let it flow as naturally as possible. However, there are a few principles I keep in mind:

• Write as continuously as I can

• Feel my body as I write

• Prompt as needed

Writing continuously allows the flow of conscious thought to be noticed and put down on paper to examine later or completely let go of.

Feeling the body while writing changes the focus from mind to body, which has reduced my inner monologue to edit while I write. This too aids in the flow of writing.

When I freewrite, I use prompts as needed, and simple ones are best. Here are a few I like to return to, time and time again:

• Lately, I’ve been feeling…

• I’ve been avoiding…

• Today…

These short prompts are like floodgates to making the unconscious conscious because there is so much that can arise in the mind due to the prompt’s openness.

Each time I finish a freewriting session, it’s like I’ve shed layers of skin. I feel light in both my mind and body, as well as my heart, knowing I’m aligning myself to take wise action.

Final Thoughts

I hope this piece was helpful!

I know cultivating a daily practice isn’t always as easy as it sounds, and meditation can feel daunting, so I encourage you to use these daily, informal practices as entry points into mindfulness practice.

If you notice even the subtlest shift in attitude while doing some of the exercises I mentioned, that’s a small sign that the practice is working!

So keep a close eye out and feel into your body this week.

- Jimmy

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Those three sentences were chanted at least 25 times over the course of my most recent silent, seven-day Vipassana retreat.

And let me tell you, those lines are beautifully tragic.

Here’s why.

The only truth we experience in this life

When our minds think of the word truth, they think of the following characteristics:

• Fixed

• Permanent

• Unchanging

Which is why we cling so hard to what we believe are facts.

However, many of those beliefs we hold as facts are simply ideas we cling to in hopes of feeling secure, stable, and safe. At the end of the day, they’re simply ideas. Not facts.

Let me give you an example.

During my retreat, I sat with incredibly painful sensations, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I recall sitting with some of the sharpest knee pain I’ve ever experienced. Physically, it hurt. It felt like it would never end. My whole body tensed up, and my mind started creating the story, “This pain will never go away.”

It felt like a fact, and I believed it was a fact because the experience was so intense.

But instead of clinging to that idea, I got curious.

I noticed the actual experience of this pain.

There was sharpness, heat, throbbing, and aching. I also noticed something strange happen when I relaxed my body — the pain reduced. Then, when I shifted my sitting position or changed to a standing posture, the pain changed form. The pain particles dissipated into tingling sensations that swam down my leg and into my feet.

After a few minutes, no knee pain.

Just a body standing, breathing, and practicing meditation.

This was just one example of a deep truth that I experienced many different times in various forms throughout the retreat:

The only thing in life that doesn’t change is change itself.

Meaning, whatever arises will pass away. It also means that those things that arise will have different life spans.

But to truly appreciate this truth, its nuances, and how it brings happiness, let’s take a closer look at life.

Life

Whatever arises in life is due to causes and conditions.

For example, a mind without stimulation, entertainment, or some form of engagement will think. As Jack Kornfield once said, “The mind secretes thoughts like the mouth secretes saliva.” It’s just doing what it’s meant to do.

But how many times in our lives do we get caught in the web of the thinking mind?

We notice a thought that’s likely charged with a strong emotion such as anger, worry, or sadness, and soon enough, our mind is off to the races, creating all kinds of stories about what’s going to happen next or why something happened. In the midst of being lost in thought, we fail to recognize that the original thought that gave rise to getting lost has already come and gone. It’s our own doing that stretched the suffering by way of creating a story.

And when we get stuck, we miss out on the beauty that’s right in front of us.

This applies to many other experiences in our lives.

Someone cuts us off in traffic, so we get annoyed. Our morning feels rushed because we didn’t wake up at our usual time, so we’re moving frantically. Then, we spill our coffee because we’re moving so fast, only adding to our anger.

But none of those experiences are personal — the conditions were just ripe for those things to happen.

Luckily, this doesn’t have to be our habit of mind or style of living.

Instead, we can train our minds to recognize the coming and going — the life and death — of thoughts, sensations, and emotions.

When we do, we start to experience life in a whole new way.

But before we get there, I’d like to share a few observations about death.

Death

Anything that arises is subject to pass away.

In some cases, that’s wonderful: the panic that comes from being front and center in a room full of crowded people, the uncomfortable conversations you’ve been putting off, and the decisions that have been splitting your mind in every which direction.

These experiences always end, and that’s great news.

In other cases, impermanence is fucking tragic: the loss of a loved one, the declining health of someone close we’re caring for, the endings of loving relationships, the deaths of pets, the departure from a fulfilling career.

The list can go on and on.

However, not recognizing the truth of impermanence brings about much more suffering than needed.

When we fail to recognize that all things come to an end, it is gut-wrenching.

We look at our loved ones as if they were meant to be here forever. We stare longingly at our pets, wishing they too could grow as old as us and die when we do. We try to hold onto relationships that were never meant to be ‘until death do us part’. And even in those situations, those relationships, too, are impermanent.

Although these events can create significant pain, it’s our aversion to them happening that brings about great suffering.

Now, you might be thinking this seems a bit grim, so you may be wondering, what do I do with all of this, and how will any of this make me happy?

What to do with this information

There’s nothing you need to do with this information.

You don’t need to think about it at all.

Instead, I encourage you to put these ideas to the test in your life. See if you can notice thoughts come to life and pass away. See if you can be with strong bodily sensations as they arise and die in mere minutes or even moments. See if you can be with the emotions that feel like they’re too much and need you to look away, trusting that they too will pass.

Because when you do, you start to experience life differently.

Life may take on a new rhythm. It might take on a new feeling tone in your body, heart, and mind. There could be a new perspective about the pace at which you live because you’ve stopped believing the story that you need to keep up the pace of others.

Underneath that shift is a greater appreciation for both life and death, knowing and truly understanding through direct experience that everything is unfolding exactly the way that it’s supposed to. Not only that, but there’s a wholesome desire to be with life. Be with the ups. And be with the downs. Because you know it’s all going to change, and that change is the beautiful tragedy we’ve come to know as impermanence — the law of nature.

And by touching life deeply, we can know and experience true happiness, despite its fleeting nature.

Before we close, a quick disclaimer:

I can’t say this is exactly what you’ll experience because I’m not you.

But I can speak from my experience.

Since I’ve returned from retreat, I’ve been intentionally integrating this understanding of the beautiful tragedy that is impermanence.

I’m holding my cat a little closer, knowing in a couple of weeks he’ll be 15, while not knowing when he’ll come to pass. I’m embracing more time with my partner, Rachel, knowing and appreciating the steadfast stability she has provided for me all these years. I’m making a wise effort to connect with family from afar, as well as our elders, knowing there won’t be many more opportunities to connect before some of them leave their bodies.

I’m also letting go of things I’ve held on to for too long.

I’ve let go of coaching collegiate lacrosse, knowing it ate up a lot of time that my heart would rather spend cultivating the relationships I just mentioned. I’ve cut back on playing basketball, knowing it has been fun, but my body is reminding me it’s time for me to tend to it in other ways. I don’t plan on refereeing basketball (or at least not nearly as much as I did last winter), a simple money grab that just creates burnout. I’ve also reduced the amount of time I spend online.

So, why am I sharing all of this with you?

Because I feel like it taps into a deep truth we all know intellectually but don’t always feel somatically.

We know life is short. We know things come and go.

But how often do we touch that deeply and intimately?

That’s an inquiry for you.

And when you start to explore what it feels like, in your body, bones, and heart, to truly experience this life, perhaps you too will notice a shift in your physiology.

A bit of peace. A level of quiet in the mind you may never have experienced before. A content heart that actually feels.

Perhaps there will also be a wise understanding to appreciate and enjoy what you and who you love while you can.

Because it’s only a matter of time until it’s all gone.

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You begin to notice all the subtleties of your thinking mind. Not just in a way of Headspace mental noting. But in a way that’s much more intimate and tender than you can ever imagine. You also start to notice how the body runs in parallel. It tenses up when your mind is running its old programming. But in that moment you can let go of that tension to cultivate some relief.

That’s just the beginning of the shift.

You also start to understand how much of your life has been dictated by conditioning. The pace at which you walk. The number of thoughts coming and going. The urges to take action without actual contemplation just so you don’t have to sit with the potential pain that coincides with that conditioning.

It’s quite an interesting space to live in for a week.

Why?

It’s fucking intense.

But it’s also beautiful.

You begin to discern what’s urgent and what’s not. You realize what needs tending and what doesn’t. You start to cultivate a strong, kind, and caring relationship to your body, mind, and heart.

Most of all — you don’t want that relationship to go away.

However, in our culture, pace is grace by way of speed. And honestly, it’s not actually grace — it’s just greed.

But the heart can only operate at the pace at which it needs to operate.

As I closed retreat yesterday and began my drive home, this was quite evident.

A truck started tailing me, and my immediate thought was: “Well, if I just give him the finger that oughta show him.”

But then, a noticing — oh, there’s anger.

And in that noticing, I reconnected with my body through feeling my butt on my car seat and taking a few deep belly breaths. This immediately relaxed the tension I held in my shoulders, mind, and heart. Instant relief. All because I noticed something and refused to drive at the pace this other person wanted me to.

It may have been a small moment, but to be 100% honest, it should not be taken lightly.

Which is why I’d like to point you toward a two questions:

As you do, you may begin to witness the Dharma — the natural law of how things unfold due to causes and conditions.

And when you begin to take wise action in this way, there’s no greater act of love.

Like many, I sought relief.

I had just had my first panic attack — an existential crisis, really. I remember it vividly.

I sat in an armchair, sobbing profusely — that ugly type of sob where snot started coming out — in the tiny living room of an even tinier apartment, wondering and wallowing in what my life had come to.

Let me give you a little context that led to that moment.

The Yes Man

I was suffocating in stress.

But I had no idea why.

I was 24 years old, a first-year public school teacher, a nearly year-round basketball coach, and I was saying yes to everything.

“Jimmy, would you like to help us with…”, “Yes!”

“Jimmy, our JV basketball coach said he can’t coach this year, can you…”, “Yes!”

“Jimmy, we need someone to DJ the elementary school dance tonight, could…”, “Yes!”

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

To cultivate the energy it took to do all of these things, I crushed coffee like it was going out of style, only to marinate in marijuana smoke to try to drift off to sleep to counteract all the caffeine I consumed.

Needless to say, I was a self-fulfilling stress prophet.

What I didn’t realize was I was compensating for something.

But that realization didn’t come until I started meditating.

Initiation Into The Practice

A couple of weeks after my breakdown, I was listening to a podcast.

While listening, I heard an ad about Headspace, so I figured I’d give it a try. After all, Andy Puddicombe’s buttery smooth British accent was enough to keep me coming back, and the app sold itself in the free trial with his voice leading the guided meditations.

After a few weeks, I started to notice some subtle shifts:

• My overthinking reduced by at least 10%

• I felt a baseline level of gratitude I didn’t have before

• I could feel content and at ease doing nothing

And to be frank, the lack of those three things was what drove me to copious stress. Although stress returned — and sometimes reared its head with vengeance — I felt more equipped to handle it with responsiveness rather than reactivity. That was especially true when I received a ‘class from hell’ my second year of teaching, but that’s a different story for a different day.

Despite the subtle but simultaneously massive transformations in my mental health and well-being, it still felt like something was missing.

I still felt a void in my heart.

It wasn’t until 2024 that that void was voiced.

The Realization That Struck My Heart Like Lightning

Up until October 2022, I had just been using Headspace to meditate.

I mean, how could I not! The marketing said just 10 minutes a day to change your life. And to an extent, there was some truth in that.

But it completely downplayed a lot of what I’ve since learned.

It was in October that I took my first mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR) course, rooted in the philosophies and teachings of Jon Kabat-Zinn. It was this class that I had to sit in silence for 45 minutes.

A complete shock to my nervous system and my madhouse of a mind.

But this is when I started to learn some valuable lessons (not the one I mentioned in the title, but I promise we’ll get there!):

Formal mindfulness meditation practice is great, but integration into daily life is even better.

So I practiced diligently throughout the 8 weeks of the course and continued my practice as often as I could in daily life.

Noticing and letting go of intrusive thoughts.
Coming back to my breath.
Returning to the moment.

You know, all the good mindfulness cliches.

Luckily, it sparked an adventure in me:

I wanted to become a mindfulness meditation teacher.

So, I signed up for Jack Kornfield and Tara Brach’s Mindfulness Meditation Teacher Certification Program (MMTCP) through Sounds True.

One of the requirements was to attend a silent retreat. So I did my first one in March of 2023, and it was phenomenal. However, that’s also another story for another day.

As I continued my practice, I still felt that void. That hunger to fill it. I still didn’t know what it was. So, I signed up for another retreat the following year.

It was July 2024, and it was the last day of my second retreat.

I was carefully placing my feet on the hardwood floor: lifting, stepping, placing, lifting, stepping, placing.

All of a sudden, a voice flew up and into my head:

“C’mon, dude. Do it right!”

Immediately following this was a much kinder insight:

“Wow, I’ve been really unkind to myself for a long time.”

As tears flowed down my cheeks, and I offered myself some loving-kindness, the most valuable insight of my entire practice arose:

My inner critic isn’t a problem; it’s my relationship with it that matters.

After that insight, I beamed.

For years, I tried to get rid of my inner critic. I tried to avoid it. I tried to stop it.

But none of those approaches worked because I failed to accept my inner critic for what it was: A voice not rooted in greed, hatred, and delusion.

Once I realized I didn’t have to get rid of it, stop it, or listen to it, warmth radiated through my cells and veins.

And it made me realize this, too:

I don’t have to fix myself.

Instead, I just have to keep practicing, accept myself, and accept experiences as they arise.

But most of all, meet all of those experiences with curiosity, patience, compassion, and kindness.

Before You Go — A Few Ideas

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How much does impulse run your life?

20% of the time? 30%? 40%?

I encourage you to stop reading right now and think about that question.

I’m aware that many of us feel compelled to accomplish more in a day than our ancestors did in their lifetimes. We’re constantly being fed information about how we must keep doing and stay busy to keep up. And heaven forbid, if we want to try to get ahead, well, we might as well kiss anything outside of our pursuits goodbye.

But the more we obey these unchecked impulses, the more we start to realize a brutal truth:

We’re not living a life we’re enjoying.

Now, I’m not here to say that life is supposed to be all sunshine and rainbows.

If it weren’t for pain, we wouldn’t know joy. If it weren’t for sadness, we wouldn’t know happiness. If it weren’t for anxiety, we wouldn’t know contentment.

But what I’m trying to get at is that impulse created an entire life we aren’t fully engaged with. Impulse has — in some cases — built a life we may even detest because we failed to pay attention.

So, how did all of this even come to be?

The automated life

Keeping up with the Joneses is one of the oldest adages about how American society is constantly in competition.

Oooh, Mr. Jones just got a shiny, red Corvette. What can I do to show that I’m just as valuable as Mr. Jones? Maybe I’ll get myself a shiny, black Camaro? That oughta do the trick.

That is an arbitrary scenario, but the point is clear.

Whenever we see someone has something we want, desire is triggered in us, and that’s where the automated life begins.

This desire can be in the form of thoughts, bodily sensations, or full-blown fantasies about how we’ll drive off into the sunset, smiling, all because we kept up with Mr. Jones.

Now, I’ll be fair: desire is strong. At times, it’s a downright beast.

But the reality of fulfilling desire through obtaining material items, financial means, or a specific status is this:

It rarely brings lasting happiness.

And this is the type of life we’ve been sold as Americans.

Accumulate A, B, C, and you’ll be as happy as can be.

It’s a type of life that we’re still sold to this day.

Perhaps the flavor of impulsive desire for you isn’t a brand new car or a Rolex watch, but there were probably a few ideas that popped into your mind as you’ve read thus far.

Maybe there were thoughts tainted with the phrases:

“I’ll be happy when...”, “I’ll feel content when...”, “I’ll be proud of myself when...”

These types of thoughts are the roots of desire. They’re the thoughts that manifest into saying yes to jobs we don’t like. They’re the thoughts that manifest into irrational investments. They’re the thoughts that manifest into relationships we never should’ve been in, in the first place.

All because we’re chasing something we were sold.

Due to our constant chasing, we’re disconnected from our bodies and heart centers — the true home of our deepest wisdom.

And the more impulsive we become, the more we become a slave to those same impulses that eat away at our hearts, souls, and inner wisdom.

So, how can we unhook from this habit pattern?

How to disrupt the cycle of impulse

My answer may seem obvious:

Practice mindfulness.

But the way I encourage you to practice goes much deeper than that.

I’m not talking about sitting down for 10-20 minutes a day and calling it good. No no.

Instead, I’m talking about bringing the practice of mindfulness into every moment of your life where impulse shows up.

Even if you’ve never practiced a day in your life, here’s a simple process to start with:

1. Notice impulse - What does impulse look like in your life? Is it a thought that arises? A feeling in your body? A combination of both? Regardless of what it is, notice it because noticing is the necessary pause to stop a behavior before it begins. For example, you might have a thought to check your phone, or you might even reach for it habitually. Notice that before you start the doom scroll.

2. Feel impulse - There’s a tightness that comes with impulse. For me, it feels like my chest is contracting. It can also be my whole body tensing up. These are signals to pause and let my body relax. By relaxing, I can stop the inner war of mind and body and break the cycle of fulfilling impulse. An excerpt from a talk by Devin Berry illustrates this concept beautifully:

   When you stop chasing what you think you need, the grip loosens. When the grip loosens, the struggle stops. When the struggle stops, the cycle breaks.

3. Be with the impulse until it’s gone - Like everything in this world, impulse will subside. Many of us just struggle to see it all the way through. If you can just be present with it, you’ll notice the thoughts disappear along with the tension in the body. And when it all dissolves, you can taste freedom from impulse.

Final Thoughts

Taking stock of and fully experiencing your impulsive, unwholesome habits isn’t glamorous or fun work. I’ve struggled with it throughout my time practicing mindfulness.

But I will say this:

It’s some of the most important work we can do as humans to restore consciousness and faith in ourselves.

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It was late May 2025, and my mental clock was ticking. I sat alone, in a one-bedroom apartment, my right foot in a boot and elevated due to a ruptured Achilles tendon, and my lease was ending in just a couple of weeks. I had just a few hundred dollars to my name, and I was waffling about re-entering a romantic relationship that was almost six years old before I ended it.

The agitation from all this was unbearable. So I reached out to Thomas Davis, one of my mindfulness mentors.

I poured out my soul to him about the difficulties I faced with my practice, life, and the looming decisions that were on a legitimate time crunch.

That’s when he looked me dead in the eyes through the Zoom screen and said something I’ll never forget:

“Well, Jimmy, I don’t know if I’ll be able to help you with this one. And I don’t envy the decision you have to make. Bahahahaha!”

I too erupted in laughter. Once again, Thomas broke deep tension with his infectious laugh.

Flash back to July 2024.

I sat across Devin Berry; I had just met him days before on a Young Adult’s Retreat at Insight Meditation Society.

Like many practitioners, I was struggling with my thoughts. My mind was busy because I had two different job opportunities on the table. I was torn between what to do. My thinking mind had made no progress. But it was doing a wonderful job justifying how either path could work out. Thanks, optimism?

At this point, I was seeking a deeper answer — something rooted in deep truth. A heartfelt decision.

But I had a problem.

I didn’t know how to tune into the wisdom of my heart.

That’s where Devin came in.

But we’ll come back to that story in a bit.

The Influence of Thomas Davis

Thomas Davis is a Dharma teacher who earned his certification through a four-year intensive Spirit Rock/Insight Meditation Society Teacher Training Program. He has taught Buddhist meditation at Insight LA, Spirit Rock Retreat Center, and Big Bear Retreat Center. Thomas also founded Richmond Insight Meditation and Avant-Dharma, and he currently serves as a mentor in Jack Kornfield and Tara Brach’s Mindfulness Meditation Teacher Certification Program through Sounds True.

That’s how I met Thomas.

I was blessed to have him as a mentor during my teacher training from March 2023-2025. Throughout the program, we met monthly in a small group: Thomas, four other lovely souls (shout out to Zoe, Ben, Patrick, and Winston any of you if you’re reading this!), and myself.

Thomas’s kindness, empathy, infectious laugh, and unique insights into human suffering, impermanence, and the release of suffering were so profound to me. He made one-of-a-kind connections to the Dharma that I’ve never heard anyone make before. His favorite avenue was telling stories of artists and jazz musicians. One that stood out was a story about how John Coltrane told his wife he’d be in the attic so he could talk to God. He only came down for meals and some conversation here and there. Other than that, Mr. Coltrane was taking his own retreat, listening to God, and trusting the creative muse would reveal itself to him. The result of that retreat? His creation of A Love Supreme, one of his most well-known, respected, and sought-after musical pieces.

Insights like that truly opened my eyes to the understanding that the Dharma isn’t something you practice on a cushion. The Dharma is your life’s practice. It’s the integration of spirit into your passions, vocation, relationships, and everything else you touch during this life.

Thomas was also there for me at some of my lowest times.

My aunt passed away unexpectedly in September of 2023. It completely rocked my family. She was the life of the party, the hostess with the mostest, and she nearly always had a smile on her face. Then, one day, she was gone.

I was unsure how to handle the situation, but Thomas was right there by my side. He wasn’t there to fix things. He wasn’t there to tell me “it’s all gonna be okay, kid”. He wasn’t there to give me a pep talk. Instead, he offered raw insights about how to use death to connect deeply with pain, grief, and relief. He shared some wisdom about how his father’s death did a number on him and his family, but he was able to be the rock that people needed to grieve the loss.

Although it didn’t take away any pain, I found some peace in what he said.

I decided that I’d be a rock for anyone in my family who needed stability. I know the loss affected my cousins tremendously — it was their mom who passed. So I did little things. I texted them to let them know I’m thinking of them. I answered questions when they asked how to handle this tragedy. But most of all, I lent a listening ear and warm hugs.

I did the same with my mom. She called me one night in September in hysterics. The only words she could muster were “Auntie Jane’s gone.” I responded in disbelief at the news. But I did my best to listen compassionately to her confusion, sadness, grief, and agitation that swam below every word she spoke.

With that, my mother cultivated a bit of relief.

And we can thank Thomas for that.

The Influence of Devin Berry

Devin Berry is a Dharma teacher who also earned his credentials through the same intensive four-year training that Thomas completed. He’s also a certified MBSR (Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction) teacher, founder of Deep Time Liberation, and other non-profits supporting Buddhist teachings and ancestral healing.

As mentioned, I was fortunate enough to be taught by Devin during July 2024. He was part of a fantastic teaching team for a young adults retreat at Insight Meditation Society. He was also the first teacher who truly made loving-kindness practice stick. It was a 1:1 interview during that retreat when his words about loving-kindness struck me.

I went into that retreat with a massive decision looming over my head — do I go back to teaching public school or coach lacrosse full-time?

I’ve always struggled with career choices because of the value our society places on jobs. Instead of asking someone what they like to do for fun or what their interests are after we learn their names, we have been conditioned to ask them what they do for a living. Thanks, capitalism. As a result, I’ve had a hard time not identifying with my job, and that’s what was on my mind when I walked into the meeting.

I walked into the meeting room, heart pounding, and Devin greeted me with the sincerest smile I’ve ever felt. It was like a warm blanket being wrapped around me to tell me that I’m safe. My body relaxed, and his energy immediately set the tone for our meeting.

He asked me how my practice was going, and I tried to be a good practitioner and feel my body before I spoke, rather than speaking simply from intellect. I told him it was going well, but some challenges were arising. He patiently waited as I waxed on about the mental tug-of-war happening in my mind. That’s when I felt courageous enough to ask him a question.

“How can I tune into my heart?”

A soft smile appeared on his lips. And in 10 words, he cracked open my heart:

“You can never go wrong with a little more loving-kindness.”

How Their Impacts Have Steadied the Storms of My Life

I’ve only mentioned small moments of Thomas and Devin’s impact on my life. There are many more I could write about, so perhaps that’s a future essay. But I’d be remiss not to explain more about the solidity of their wisdom that’s imprinted into my heart.

Remember that relationship I talked with Thomas about at the beginning of this essay? I re-entered it, and it has been the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s not perfect. We still have our challenges. But it’s Thomas’s wisdom that echoes in my ears when I get caught up in the trivialities of the wanting mind, which is what made me leave the relationship in the first place.

Our cat recently got pretty sick. I was agitated, annoyed, and downright angry about the whole situation. ‘My time is being taken.’ ‘I can’t do what I want.’ Selfish motives, but they were mentally noted.

Using another one of Thomas’s lessons (nothing’s ever personal; nothing’s ever perfect; nothing’s ever permanent), I worked through those unpleasant, unwholesome mind states and emotions without resistance and returned to what matters — caring for a little creature whom I adore. My partner and I later had a productive conversation about the impermanence of the whole situation and listened to each other with compassion and understanding. We can call that a win-win.

I’ve also been kinder to myself after being an asshole to myself for a long time and taking my inner critic personally. That’s thanks to Devin. When I notice that inner critic pop up, I can laugh, place my hand over my heart, and wish myself well. I also appreciate an additional piece of wisdom he provided when I was so torn on what to do with my job choice: “It doesn’t have to be a forever decision.” That walloped me in the best way possible because I had never heard someone say that about career choices before. No longer am I stressing — at least not too much — about my vocation.

So thank you, Thomas. Thank you, Devin.

You’ll forever be two Black Buddhas, secured in the safety of my ever-growing wise heart.

Before You Go

If this essay resonated with you, please check out Thomas and Devin’s work.

Or, if you’re willing and able, consider donating to Thomas, Devin, myself, or all three of us.

We try our best to make mindfulness accessible to all beings, and with donations from generous people like you, our missions are possible.

I’m not gonna sugarcoat it.

I’ve been an asshole to myself for the last 20 years.

It’s no single person’s fault.

But I’d be remiss to say the habit of self-hatred was mine alone.

No, no.

Like many, I learned love was conditional. The love was never meant to be conditional, but that’s how it landed in my adolescent years. It had to be earned through proper attitude and behavior.

But I’ve found this model of conditional love to be harmful.

Here’s what I mean.

The Valueless Honor Roll Student-Athlete Striving for Satisfaction

Growing up, I had an inferiority complex.

I’m no psychologist — but I’ve spent enough time studying the topic (an undergraduate degree, hundreds of hours of reading and writing) to recognize how my internal monologue and the messages from the outer world led me to feel valueless.

Despite being a popular, multi-sport athlete who made honor roll through college, I couldn’t come to the belief that I brough value to the world.

At least not in my father’s eyes.

I never got good enough grades for him. I never seemed interested enough in college to keep him off my case. I never had the work ethic he wanted. I never behaved well enough.

So I felt like the black sheep. A loner. Misunderstood.

I internalized the idea that I wasn’t reaching my potential because that’s what my father projected onto me — and it gnawed at me. I walked around with an inner fire of rage that needed the smallest kindling to ignite.

But it had nothing to do with the outside world.

It had everything to do with who I believed I was.

That chip on my shoulder created deep self-loathing in someone who didn’t deserve it. It created a habit of trying to earn others’ affection through extra efforts and calculated diligence.

I’ve been carrying that weight since the age of 12.

The hardest part:

I couldn’t see myself the way other people did.

Ask anyone who knows me well. They’d say I’m kind, compassionate, helpful — a bit intense, but a good person.

But I never saw myself that way.

Instead, I’d get caught up in failures and mistakes — the gripping fear of consequences. I’d berate myself to sleep, running through everything I needed to do better the following day.

But I’ve started to shift that maniacal inner monologue.

The training on Wise Speech changed that.

The Buddha’s Call

The Buddha needs no introduction.

But credit goes to him for the concept of Wise Speech.

Some people call it right speech; others call it wise speech.

Regardless of what you call it, it has four components:

• Tell no lies

• Refrain from slander

• Refrain from idle chatter

• Refrain from harsh speech

These are great guidelines anytime we open our mouths.

But wise speech reaches beyond dialogue.

It applies to self-talk, too.

Why?

The kinder, truer words we say to ourselves, the more we cultivate an authentic, loving, compassionate relationship with who we actually are — not who our inner critic believes we are.

Let me explain.

The Retreat that Cracked Open My Heart

It was August 4th, 2024 — the last day of a Young Adults silent meditation retreat.

The wood floor felt solid beneath my bare feet as mid-morning sun poured through the walking meditation room adjacent to the sitting meditation hall at Insight Meditation Society.

I placed my right hand over my heart for the last walking meditation before our teachers’ closing words.

I breathed in through my nose, placing my right foot down, then my left, step by step.

With each step, I offered myself phrases of loving-kindness:
May I be safe. May I be well. May I be peaceful and at ease. May I be happy.

I paused and noticed a thought arise.

“I’ve been unkind to myself for a long time.”

I let out a sound — barely masking the feeling that my heart had exploded into my throat. The realization sent shockwaves through my nervous system as tears flowed down my cheeks.

There I was, 30 years old, only beginning to realize how mean I’d been to myself all those years.

I had bought into the negativity. I let it define my worth. And most of all, I kept choosing to believe the self-made lies that obscured my true self.

That’s when I vowed to speak kindly to myself.

And to watch my inner monologue with a wise heart.

How I’ve Created Space Between My Maniacal Inner Monologue and Me

To say it’s been easy to create space between my inner monologue and me would be a lie. It’s been difficult. Lots of bumps, hiccups, and setbacks.

But through deliberate effort, I’ve created more space between that maniacal inner monologue and me.

The negativity is still there, and it comes in tidal waves at times.

However, instead of getting thrashed by those tidal waves and pulled into the undercurrent of not-enoughness, I’m equipped to surf, thanks to my mindfulness practice.

Here’s how:

1. Noticing — It always starts with noticing. If I don’t catch the negative thoughts as they arise, I’m cooked — lost in the spirals of anxiety and depression. Noticing is where the space begins.

2. Watching to the end — Once I’m able to sit with the thought without getting attached, I watch it through. Like everything else, negative thoughts have a birth, a life, and a death. The mental investment we give — or don’t — is what either extends or extinguishes them.

3. Returning to the body — The mind will wander, but the body is always present. Come back to a few breaths. Feel your feet on the ground. Recognize that you aren’t a piece of shit — you’re just a bag of flesh and bones. That physical truth sobers the shrieks of the inner critic.

As a result of practicing this as often as I can, I’ve completely shifted how I relate to negative self-talk. Instead of being bullied and absorbed by it, there’s space.

And in that space, I feel free to be who I really am.

A kind, loving, compassionate human being.

Final Thoughts

There may never be an end to harsh self-talk.

Heck, as I re-read my first, second, and third drafts, the first thought that arose was: “This is shit.”

But instead of sinking into that storm, I laughed. From laughter, I let that thought go and returned to the flow of writing. Without years of practice, I probably would’ve gotten sucked in. So I’m grateful for that.

Who knows?

Maybe that’s all we need to let go of the maniacal inner monologue.

A dash of awareness. A cup of kindness. And a heap of humor.

Only time will tell.

We just have to keep paying attention.

Before You Go

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I rose out of bed, heavy-lidded and crusty-eyed, as I zombie-walked my way into the kitchen. My stomach wasn’t growling, but desire had a conniving, convincing position. “Let’s get something to eat,” it said.

Awareness said something different.

Awareness said, “This body isn’t hungry.”

Desire replied with a smirk on its face, “So what? It’s gonna taste goooood.”

As awareness and desire argued, my body was in motion, my left hand gently grasped the cupboard handle, my eyes barely open, and I slowly swung open the snack pantry. I unclipped the sea-salted pita chips and took three steps to my left to open the refrigerator.

And there it was — the jalapeno lime hummus I couldn’t get enough of.

However, I noticed a familiar feeling in my chest.

It felt tight and contracted, almost like my heart was balled into a fist. It was shame’s way of saying, “please, we don’t need to do this. You know you’re going to regret it when it’s all said and done.”

Right after shame finished its stance, awareness came back into the conversation.

“Not tonight.”

I trusted awareness and let my body put everything back where it belonged: pita chips in the cupboard, hummus in the refrigerator, and both doors closed, as I dragged my feet back down the hallway and back into bed.

The habit of late-night snacking almost won.

But not that night.

Here’s why:

The problem with taking behavior personally

Most of us relate to our behavior as us.

“I’m an anxious person.” “I’m someone who shuts down.” “I’m addicted to snacking.” “I can’t stop using my phone.”

These attitudes fuse our sense of self with every one of our behaviors and habits, and that fusion makes change feel self-destructive, which is why we resist it.

The person we’ve identified with is no longer.

That change isn’t just scary — it’s petrifying.

It’s a large reason why people stop smoking, start smoking, stop smoking, and start smoking for decades on end. It’s why people crash diet, binge, crash diet, binge, for years. Yes, there’s a lot more going on psychologically, biologically, and neurologically, but there’s a massive battle of the self at play in the unconscious mind.

And the unconscious mind is where we hold our deepest, most personal beliefs, our memories, both good and bad, our traumas, and so much more.

However, viewing behavior through the lens of “The Three I’s” can start to shift our levels of awareness and understanding of our actions so that we can take them less personally and start to cultivate the changes we deeply desire.

What are The Three I’s?

Let’s dive in:

The Three I’s

The Three I’s are something I learned from Thomas Davis. Thomas is a mindfulness and spiritual mentor of mine and has been for the last three and a half years.

During one of our meetings, he mentioned something he learned from one of his dear teachers: “Nothing’s ever personal, nothing’s ever perfect, and nothing’s ever permanent.”

I took that as everything is impersonal, impermanent, and imperfect.

It got me thinking — how many aspects of life can this be applied to?

Turns out, quite a bit.

Here’s what I mean:

How The Three I’s Changed How I Interpreted My Behavior

For over two decades, I’ve been my own worst critic.

Because of that attitude, I’ve created the habit of criticizing my mistakes and actions that didn’t result in the outcome that I desired. Unfortunately, that level of judgment did a number on my confidence and mental health.

Nothing was ever good enough.

I could never “get it right”.

Worst of all, I was never proud of myself.

Instead, the judgments rolled in like unwanted mental junk mail.

But, this was all due to the fact that I was the judge, jury, and executioner of every one of my faults.

However, this all started to change once I started implementing the three I’s with my behavior. Instead of observing my actions through the lens of a biased figure-skating judge, I observed my actions from a non-judgmental distance.

That distance shifted my mental framing from judgment to curiosity instead of judgment. And that curiosity was deep soil where changes began to grow. Name what started to shift — not dramatically, but quietly.

Take the example of late-night snacking.

I began observing the patterns of that behavior with curiosity, which is why I was able to articulate the short moments in time with such vivid detail. Instead of getting upset at myself and taking my craving personally, I was able to detach the personal aspect of it because I recognized that craving was just doing what craving does — wanting something I didn’t need. I was able to watch this through to the level of impermanence because the craving eventually passed away — as all cravings do. Lastly, despite the “mental win”, it wasn’t a perfect letting go of the craving immediately. It was a prolonged standoff. Thus, it was an imperfect way to deal with it, considering the Buddha taught that cravings are to fall away naturally, rather than being forced.

This way of viewing behavior has also helped me reduce my engagement with marijuana, alcohol, and idle chatter (aka gossip). There’s always room for improvement, but the simple change in attitude has really helped flip the script on my inner monologue and handling temptations.

And I’ll be honest: if I can do it, I know you can, too.

But this is only made possible with one skill.

The Skill that Unlocks It All

This is only available with awareness.

The Three I’s only work if you’re actually noticing what’s happening. This is why the practice of mindfulness matters in daily life, not just on the cushion.

Once you start to notice what craving feels like, sounds like, and looks like when it arises in real time, you start to give yourself a legitimate chance to let it go.

However, it’s important to keep the Three I’s in mind so you can set realistic expectations for yourself.

Yes, I’m talking to you, perfectionists :)

Thank you! And an Invitation for Practice

If you read this from beginning to end, I truly appreciate your time and attention.

Before you go, I’d like to share an invitation for practice through a contemplation:

Is there a behavior you’ve been fused with? What might it feel like to get just a little curious about it instead?

I’d love to hear your ideas in the comments :)

That’s the question almost every practitioner has once asked in their life, and I’m sure that’s the question that brand new beginner’s ask, too. Chances are, if you’re reading this, you’re likely identifying with that group of people.

We’ve been told how it reduces stress and anxiety. Apps tell us that just 10 minutes a day can change our lives. There have been countless books, podcasts, and studies done on the subject.

But what does it actually do for us?

Before we get into that, let’s do a quick dive into the history and skepticism of mindfulness meditation.

The Western Wave of Meditation

The United States was first introduced to mindfulness and other forms of meditation in the 1960s at the height of the counterculture movement. Thich Nhat Hanh visited the United States during this time to give teachings on the basics of Buddhist practice and his philosophy, engaged Buddhism. Teachers like Ram Dass and Alan Watts also had a dog-and-pony show of spiritual teachings that brought them across the nation.

The U.S.’s relationship with meditation expanded and deepened with the additions of centers like Insight Meditation Society in Barre, Massachusetts, and Naropa University in Boulder, Colorado. Both places offered opportunities for people to connect deeply with themselves by taking silent retreats.

Then, in 1979, science got involved. Molecular biologist Jon Kabat-Zinn developed MBSR, Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction, at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. His mission was bold. He specifically told all the other doctors to give him the patients with the worst ailments. Some of which included untreatable cancer, chronic pain conditions, autoimmune disorders, and so on.

The most interesting part about all these teachers and the various meditation methods that all included elements of mindfulness is that they really seemed to help. They helped people work with fear, anxiety, physical pain, mental health challenges, relationship challenges, and much more.

A lot of the science today can point to those findings, too.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

It’s important to discuss the skepticism that many folks have.

The Necessary Skepticism (and its Origination)

If you’ve ever sat down to meditate and you’re anything like me, this question has likely popped into your head:

What the fuck?

You start to realize how insanely fast thoughts arise and pass away. You recognize the tension and pain your body has held. You notice the tightness in your chest and breath when you feel yourself worrying about all the to-dos on your to-do list.

Then, there’s likely another follow-up question:

Why am I meditating if I suck at it?

A great question to ask, but honestly, a better question to ask is this:

What does it mean to be a good meditator?

And this is where the origins of misunderstanding come from.

The previously mentioned people — Thich Nhat Hanh, Ram Dass, Alan Watts, Jon Kabat-Zinn, and the founders of IMS, Joseph Goldstein, Sharon Salzberg, and Jack Kornfield — all have a particular demeanor about them. Many would describe them as calm, compassionate, loving, and understanding. Many of the people they learned meditation and spiritual teachings from would also be described in this way.

But here’s the big point many of us miss when we first sit to meditate:

No one is immune to experiencing anxiety, body pain, and uncertainty.

We’ve conjured up these images of the type of meditator or the type of person we need to become to show that our meditation is working. In reality, that creates an insurmountable mountain to climb that we’ll forever climb and continue to fall off of. In reality, we’d be better off accepting the fact that our meditation idols are more like us than we believe.

Here’s what I mean:

Thich Nhat Hanh mentions how he was very depressed after his mom passed away. He was also very angry and needed to take a lot of time to process that grief. Ram Dass almost brags about how, after all his pilgrimages to India to see his guru, he never once got rid of one neurosis. Jon Kabat-Zinn admits to the fact he doesn’t cure people of their chronic ailments. Instead, he helps patients change their relationship to their pain.

And honestly, that’s what mindfulness meditation is all about when it comes to anxiety or any other challenge we face in life. It helps us change our relationship to that uncomfortable stimulus. It widens the gap between stimulus and response. And to paraphrase Viktor Frankl:

When we widen the gap between stimulus and response, we have choice, and in that choice, we have freedom.

And that’s specifically what we’re aiming for with anxiety.

Sorry, getting excited and ahead of myself again.

Let’s get into the neuroscience of anxiety:

What the Brain Does During Anxiety

The brain is responsible for gathering and processing information, so before we dive into five different studies, let’s take a look under the hood of our heads to understand what happens in the brain when anxiety strikes.

In the case of anxiety, the information being sent to the brain comes through the nervous system as danger. This is detected initially by the amygdala — the fear center of the brain — and it’s passed off to the salience network, the part of the brain that detects novelty.

Within the salience network, there’s the anterior cingulate cortex (ACC), and it’s divided into two parts: the dorsal anterior cingulate cortex (dACC) and the subgenual anterior cingulate cortex (sgACC). The dACC lights up as a strong signal to the body that there’s a threat afoot, and the sgACC influences mood and stress levels.

Then, when the ACC and amygdala are firing, the striatum jumps into action to determine how to respond to this threat: fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. But due to the heightened emotional state, the decision isn’t always one that’s rooted in rationality; instead, it’s rooted in reactivity.

Meanwhile, the prefrontal cortex (PFC), the part of the brain that regulates thoughts, emotions, and actions, is essentially offline.

However, here’s what happens when mindfulness comes into play.

What The Neuroscience Actually Says About How Mindfulness Curbs Anxiety

Fortunately, there are hundreds of studies out there that show the benefits of mindfulness practice and how it can reduce anxiety, but we’ll look at five studies.

Study 1: Mindfulness meditation training alters stress-related amygdala resting state functional connectivity: a randomized controlled trial

In a 2015 study, 35 stressed, unemployed adults were given one of two types of intensive 3-day interventions: an active relaxation program or an intensive mindfulness program. So, both groups had methods of managing and reducing stress and anxiety, but only one group was practicing mindfulness. The study measured the connectivity between the amygdala and other brain regions during idle states — when the brain is relaxing.

Here’s what they found:

The group that engaged in mindfulness training reduced the connectivity between the right amygdala and the sgACC. In other words, the brain link that detects and absorbs long-term stress.

In conclusion, their baseline levels of stress lowered after just three days of mindfulness training.

Study 2: Neural mechanisms of symptom improvements in generalized anxiety disorder following mindfulness training

In a 2013 study, there were 26 participants with a Generalized Anxiety Diagnosis (GAD), randomized to an 8-week Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) program or an active stress-management education control. In this study, researchers measured the brain’s activity while participants did an emotional labeling task — seeing faces and naming the emotions on the faces.

Here’s the interesting part:

At baseline, GAD patients showed higher amygdala (fear) activity to neutral faces than people without GAD. However, after the MBSR intervention, that level of baseline reactivity dropped. Not only that, but the MBSR group showed increased activity in the Ventrolateral Prefrontal Cortex (vlPFC), the area that puts feelings into words. As a result, they strengthened their ability to soften their emotions.

Not a bad tradeoff for eight weeks of practice.

Study 3: MBSR vs aerobic exercise in social anxiety: Fmri of emotion regulation of negative self-beliefs

In a 2013 study, there were 56 patients with GAD. One group was randomized to MBSR training, while another group engaged in an aerobic exercise stress-reduction program.

In this study, they measured the brain activity while reacting and regulating responses to their own negative self-beliefs.

The findings will make your jaw drop:

Compared to exercise, MBSR created greater reductions in negative emotions than exercise, which means that mindfulness practice was more effective in reducing anxiety than exercise. The study also showed increases in the attention-related regions of the brain, the areas responsible for regulating negative self-talk.

In sum, mindfulness showed strong effectiveness in regulating negative thoughts and the uncomfortable experiences of anxiety.

Study 4: Impact of short- and long-term mindfulness meditation training on amygdala reactivity to emotional stimuli

In a 2018 study, a larger number (find the number) of meditation naive participants did 8-weeks of MBSR or a Health Enhancement Program. In the study, researchers measured the amygdala’s responses to emotional images when in a non-meditating state.

The findings?

Mindfulness meditation training was associated with lower amygdala reactivity when exposed to emotional images in comparison to those who did the HEP. In sum, mindfulness was a more effective intervention in reducing the fear response than the health enhancement program.

The reason why this study is so important is that the meditation skeptic learns that brain activity shifts OFF the cushion, not just during formal practice.

Study 5: Effect of app-based mindfulness on extinction recall – a 7T-fmri study

In a recent 2026 study, healthy participants were assigned to four weeks of mindfulness training or a waitlist control. Then, participants went through fear conditioning an extinction recall test. The study measured whether mindfulness improves fear extinction recall — the ability to learn that previously frightening experiences are now safe.

Here’s what they found:

Mindfulness enhanced extinction recall, meaning threat responses were extinguished, and thus anxiety was reduced. It also showed reduced activity in the amygdala and striatum, which supports that participants were able to note previously scary experiences as safe.

So, what do we do with all this information?

Next Steps to Take

That’s up to you.

I tried to do my best to make a compelling case for the science of mindfulness meditation and its effectiveness in reducing stress, but at the end of the day, it’s your life to live.

If you’re interested in getting started with a mindfulness practice, DM me the word “practice,” and I’ll reach out ASAP with some free, beginner-friendly resources.

A Small Favor

If you learned something from this post, comment with an insight below.

References

Hölzel;Hoge EA;Greve DN;Gard T;Creswell JD;Brown KW;Barrett LF;Schwartz C;Vaitl D;Lazar SW;, B., Hoge, E., Grave, D., Gard, T., Creswell, D., Brown, K., Barrett, L., Schwartz, C., Vatl, D., & Lazar, S. (2015, March 25). Neural mechanisms of symptom improvements in generalized anxiety disorder following mindfulness training. NeuroImage. Clinical. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/24179799/

Taren, A. A., Gianaros, P. J., Greco, C. M., Lindsay, E. K., Fairgrieve, A., Brown, K. W., Rosen, R. K., Ferris, J. L., Julson, E., Marsland, A. L., Bursley, J. K., Ramsburg, J., & Creswell, J. D. (2015). Mindfulness meditation training alters stress-related amygdala resting state functional connectivity: A randomized controlled trial. Social Cognitive and Affective Neuroscience, 10(12), 1758–1768. https://doi.org/10.1093/scan/nsv066

Goldin, P., Ziv, M., Jazaieri, H., Hahn, K., & Gross, J. J. (2012). MBSR vs aerobic exercise in social anxiety: Fmri of emotion regulation of negative self-beliefs. Social Cognitive and Affective Neuroscience, 8(1), 65–72. https://doi.org/10.1093/scan/nss054

Kral, T. R. A., Schuyler, B. S., Mumford, J. A., Rosenkranz, M. A., Lutz, A., & Davidson, R. J. (2018). Impact of short- and long-term mindfulness meditation training on amygdala reactivity to emotional stimuli. NeuroImage, 181, 301–313. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neuroimage.2018.07.013

Björkstrand, J., Olsson, E., Clancy, O. H., Möller, S., Björkman-Burtscher, I. M., Raheja, N., Sjöström, D., Persiani, M., Staiano, W., & Kirk, U. (2026). Effect of app-based mindfulness on extinction recall – a 7T-fmri study. Scientific Reports, 16(1). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-026-45569-z

I hope this essay finds you well and at ease.

As you know, I’m an advocate for mindfulness meditation and its benefits for mental health.

I witnessed this and experienced that firsthand at a recent retreat I facilitated.

Here are 8 direct insights about how your mental health can be improved with mindfulness meditation:

Lesson 1: The thoughts or feelings that trigger anxiety or depression are feelings you haven’t felt

Anxiety and depression can feel permanent, and that’s why they can be dangerous. Danger strikes when they become part of our identity. We believe we’re an ‘anxious person’ or a ‘depressed person’.

But that attachment perpetuates those experiences.

However, I have some good news:

These experiences are impermanent.

Why is that true? If they were permanent, we’d never experience contentment, joy, happiness, or peace.

But when we allow ourselves to feel the unpleasant feelings that we haven’t felt associated with anxiety and depression — the tightness in the chest or stomach, the lump in the back of the throat, the rapid heart rate, the void in the solar plexus — we can start to transcend them.

I experienced this firsthand and witnessed it with one of our attendees.

One of our attendees came in with a very busy mind. Lots of planning and lots of worry. I felt their words land in my body because I’m also in a season of my life with a lot of uncertainty. I’ll admit, I haven’t been catching myself or noticing these states of anxiety and depression as skillfully as I can, so that has created extra anxious and depressive thoughts and feelings.

But with the wisdom of my direct experience, I was able to provide supportive instructions and a supportive container for this person, the other attendees, my co-facilitator Tara, and myself.

The instruction was to notice and be with the unpleasant sensations or thoughts, as long as they didn’t feel too overwhelming. That way, we could become witnesses to impermanence.

By the end of the retreat, that attendee spoke about a visceral release of their worries, which I’ll talk about a bit more later in this essay.

I had a similar experience by way of releasing shoulder and neck tension and a quieting of my mind.

Lesson 2: The quality of your mental health is downstream of the quality of your thoughts

“Just think happy thoughts, and it’ll be okay” is bullshit.

Why?

Because life is fucking hard. And at times, it’s insufferable and intolerable.

This also means that automatic negative thoughts will arise on their own. On the backend of those negative thoughts are unpleasant emotions and body sensations, and on the backend of unpleasant emotions and body sensations are cravings to engage in unhealthy, unskillful behaviors.

This is the cycle of suffering.

The longer we feel stuck in this cycle of suffering, and specifically automatic negative thoughts and behaviors, the more likely it is we’ll end up overwhelmed.

The most accessible way to cut the cycle at the knees?

Notice the quality of your thoughts.

My co-teacher, Tara, and I encouraged everyone to pay close attention to their inner dialogue during the retreat. We encouraged them to notice thoughts that pull them away from a connection with their body and to return to what was here: their body, their breath, sounds. We also encouraged everyone to practice mental reframing. A practice where you notice a negative thought and try to change its tone.

For example, Tara offered this:

“If you notice yourself saying, ' This is too hard, I can’t do this. Try reframing with a kinder tone and say, ‘Yes, this is hard right now, and I’m okay.’”

This allowed folks to be with those negative thoughts without being consumed by them. It also allowed them to give those thoughts the acknowledgement they were yearning for without getting pulled away by or feeling compelled to obey those thoughts.

As a result, we were able to guide folks into the early stages of retraining their minds to have higher-quality thoughts.

Because of that, they were able to stress less and relax more as the day went on.

Lesson 3: The more you connect with your body, the less of an asshole your mind becomes

Contrary to popular belief, the mind can only be in one place at one time.

So if you’re always caught in what Paul Chek calls “stinking thinking”, you’re going to have a mind that spews nothing but negativity. Not just to others, but also toward yourself. And that’s a one-way ticket to misery.

But when you turn your attention below your neck, something interesting happens.

The body starts to settle.

When the body starts to settle, it starts to relax.

When the body starts to relax, the mind starts to quiet.

This was witnessed firsthand with one attendee who expected their mind to be busy. But they noticed how their mind was a lot stiller than they expected.

How did that happen?

By turning their attention to their body, breathing, and sitting.

I also noticed this happen in my practice that day.

As I guided the first portion of a meditation practice, I noticed my mind planning what I should say next. I noticed myself doubting that that was the right thing to say and that I wasn’t capable of leading the retreat.

So instead of fighting that, I noticed it and returned to my body, just like I instructed the attendees and students I’ve previously had.

As I turned my attention to what was happening below my neck, I felt my shoulders lower. I felt the tension release from there and my neck. I noticed the tension release from my hips. I also noticed the subtle ease, joy, and contentment from simply feeling my body breathing.

The best part about this realization goes beyond me, though.

You too can experience this if your mind is berating you.

Next time you start to notice yourself spiraling into automatic negative thoughts about yourself, you know, when your mind starts to berate you about how many things you’re doing wrong, all the things you’re not doing, or all the ways you’re not living up to your potential, pause.

Breathe. Notice the breath. Feel it in your body.

And allow relaxation to arise from within.

When you do, your mind will slowly start to silence itself.

Lesson 4: The less you believe self-loathing thoughts, the better off your mental health will be

As I learned from Tara Brach and Jack Kornfield:

“Thoughts are real, but not always true.”

Many of us get swept away in believing the thoughts — especially the automatic negative ones about ourselves. The judgments. The criticisms. The ‘should’ve, would’ve, could’ves’.

But all that does is drag down our joy and block any sense of fulfillment or healthy pride in who we are or what we do.

How do I know?

Because I started buying into the stories my mind was telling me about how I wasn’t prepared for the retreat, how I was a phony teacher, and how I didn’t actually deserve to teach at the retreat.

So what did I do?

Instead of continuing to buy into those false stories, I put a stop to them. I reminded myself of all the work I had put in up to that point. And most of all, I reminded myself there was nothing I actually had to do.

I just had to hold space for those attending.

From that space, I ended up facilitating a transformative retreat for the attendees. The words I spoke also struck a chord with Tara at various times throughout the time we spent together.

But let’s put performance aside.

When I dropped the negative stories, I felt good.

My body felt at ease. I was feeling joyful, calm, and content. I wasn’t lost in rumination. I wasn’t being battered by anxiety.

I was just present.

All because I made a conscious choice not to believe my inner critic.

Lesson 5: The emotional release you’re looking for is locked in the courage you’re afraid to express

It takes courage to face difficult emotions.

Stepping into anxiety, deep-seated fears, anger, resentment, sadness, depression, and unsatisfactoriness takes courage. It’s why many people don’t face them whatsoever. It’s also why they stay stuck in the same patterns of those same emotions.

But if you’re brave enough to face them with an open heart, they start to release.

I noticed this is at the end of our retreat.

We all took turns sharing what we experienced and what the retreat did for us. The first woman who shared was the one I mentioned earlier. She held a lot. She shared how she was able to let go of the difficult emotions she walked in with and felt a large relief from them.

When it came to my turn, I immediately started crying.

Years of doubt, fear, and unworthiness bubbled up to the surface. The doubt that I was actually making a difference through mindfulness. The fear that I wouldn’t become a meditation teacher. The conditioned unworthiness from years of being told I wasn’t good enough and me believing those stories.

I felt it all in my chest, throat, and shoulders, but I didn’t push it away. Instead, I simply relaxed my body with a few deep breaths and started to share what I wanted to say.

As I spoke and continued the practice of tuning into those feelings and allowing words to emerge without planning, I felt immense lightness throughout my body.

However, if the retreat attendee and I weren’t brave ignored those emotions and didn’t give them space to breathe, they’d still be locked in both of our minds and bodies, serving as chronic stressors.

Luckily, we were courageous and felt the emotional relief we needed.

Lesson 6: The container holding the items is more important than the items themselves

The nervous system can’t until it feels safe.

That’s why Tara and I tried to create a sacred container so people felt safe working through the difficulties they were confronting in their meditation. Although they weren’t consciously attacking the issues eroding their mental health, difficult emotions are often a byproduct of sitting in silence for an extended period of time.

What does that mean for us?

It means that we should treat our bodies as sacred vehicles for awakening.

I don’t mean awakening in the spiritual sense of achieving enlightenment or Nibbana. I mean awakening in the practical sense of waking up to the mental habits and behavioral tendencies that are the root causes of our mental health challenges. Ultimately, our sources of suffering.

The overthinking.

The replaying of conversations once had.

The regret of not taking more risks in our lives.

The grief of relationships, romantic or familial, that are no longer.

Those experiences can really hold us down.

But they don’t always have to.

When we allow our bodies to be a malleable container that can hold and transcend these experiences, we awaken to the fact that we’re strong, heartfelt people.

Touching that directly will bring a smile to your face and an opening to your heart as reminders that every challenge you face eventually passes. It also means that you don’t have to hold onto the identity of the mental health challenge you’re experiencing. You’re not the item of depression. You’re not the item of anxiety. You’re the spacious container that can hold them with grace and ease, knowing they too will pass.

Lesson 7: If your mind keeps telling you there’s more to do, the most productive thing you can do is be

In the U.S., meditation is counterculture.

It’s committing violence against capitalism, consumerism, polarization, and hatefulness that has deluded our society; several structures at play that lead to our constant ‘doing’. And when everyone is ‘doing’, it feels a bit awkward to sit and ‘be’.

FOMO comes up. Doubt comes up. Worry and restlessness come up.

But a body that’s always in motion never has time to rest.

And if you’re going to be somewhat ‘productive’, rest is an essential ingredient for your well-being.

I know this all too well firsthand.

I’m an elementary school teacher by day, and for seven months out of the year, I’m a collegiate lacrosse coach. There are also many nights and weekends when I’m roped into refereeing basketball. As you know, I also teach mindfulness meditation on the weekends and carve time to write weekly newsletters. Not to mention, I also have a cat with diabetes and hyperthyroidism that my partner and I do our best to take care of.

And so I often have a lot of things ‘to do’.

It’s also a reason why I’ve experienced burnout at least half a dozen times in my life.

However, when I cultivate a sense of being through meditation, I’m more able to do all the things that are on my calendar. Not only that, but there’s a higher quality of presence and attention when I’m doing those things after I take time to be.

I’m more alert.

I’m more empathetic.

I’m more responsive to thoughts and emotions.

As a result, I convey the quality of equanimity to the people I encounter. And by being equanimous, I’m much more able to handle what arises, rather than react from the coattails of burnout.

So if you’re finding yourself scrambling, try sitting and being.

It just might be the medicine you didn’t know you needed.

Lesson 8: The peace you seek is found in the stillness of the body, not through sifting the weeds of your mind.

Quieting the mind often turns into another self-improvement project, which can become counterintuitive to insight practice.

When there’s too much effort in trying to note every thought, prevent thoughts from arising, or investigate every thought rooted in greed, hatred, or delusion, the mind becomes extremely agitated. This is important to note because running parallel to the mind is the body. So when the mind is agitated, so is the body

That’s not me trying to discourage you.

That’s me being real with you.

Here’s what I mean:

The attendee who believed their mind was going to be full of chatter noticed that their mind was much quieter and calmer than they had anticipated because they were able to tend to and pay attention to their body, which helped them cultivate relaxation.

Notice how they didn’t practice with their mind.

Sure, they may have noticed thoughts and let them go, but their primary meditation object was their body — more specifically, the breath.

Minimal effort required.

No pinning down thoughts.

There was simply a kind attention on the body breathing and the other sensations of the body.

Sifting unnecessary.

Bonus Lesson: The mental health goal you seek in meditation is the obstacle to achieving that goal

“I so appreciated what you said about how today doesn’t have to be some type of grand transformation. It really helped me settle.”

That was a direct quote from an attendee regarding one of the talks I gave during the retreat

And it’s true.

Meditation doesn’t have to rocket blast us to bliss. Instead, it’s always a different type of ride each time we take a seat on the cushion.

However, many people — especially those who dip their toes into meditation — come to insight practice seeking all the mental health goals:

• A mind free of thought

• A body free of tension

• A life free of stress

Sadly, they’re setting themselves up for a heaping pile of disappointment.

Because when bliss fails to arrive in their heart, body, and mind, they believe they’re a meditation failure. In reality, they just needed more honesty about what mindfulness meditation actually is.

Mindfulness meditation is the practice of seeing one’s direct experience.

That’s it.

The more we try to change it through strong effort, the less likely it is that we’ll cultivate the calm, tranquil states we seek.

But if we can drop that story, we can drop into something deeper.

The boundless quality of contentment that lives in us all.

Before you go

If this essay struck a chord with you, I’d appreciate you considering a donation to help support my next retreat endeavor. Please know, the deeper I go within, the deeper I can help without. I appreciate your consideration 💜💚

Donation for retreat

“You ever wonder how much people miss out when they’re always on their phone? Do they even experience life?” my sister asked as we sat in Philadelphia’s infamous Magic Garden.

I sat back in the rounded, woven chairs as I looked out at the mosaic collection in front of me. Glass bottles protruded from concrete walls, sculptures of nude artists were scattered amidst the bottles, and paintings were laid upon the ceramic tile pathways below our feet.

Instead of waxing poetically about how our society is in the middle of an attention crisis, I simply said, “Yeah. It’s pretty sad.”

My sister went on to say how she enjoys documenting experiences for safekeeping and memory retrieval. But it becomes a nuisance when someone is so engrossed in capturing every moment that they fail to experience the moments that make up their lives.

The deep truth struck a chord with me.

It made me realize times when I’ve fallen short and failed to enjoy the present moment. Not always due to technology or wanting to capture the moment, but due to the fact that my mind wasn’t where my body was. Instead, it was ruminating about decisions that had been made, things that haven’t happened, and stories I’ve told myself for years.

I’ll be honest, the mindless habits of succumbing to impulse, desire, or allowing the mind to be unexamined have been the root cause of much of my suffering.

After all, as Mark Twain once said:

“I’ve spent much of my life worrying about things. Many of which have never happened.”

There’s a deep sadness that slices through your heart and makes the hair on your neck stand when you read those words because it encapsulates the current state of our culture.

People would rather capture the moment than experience it. And thus, they’re missing out on their lives because they’re worried they’ll miss out on their lives if they don’t capture it.

Quite the paradox.

And this has had quite an effect on our society.

What society has become

We’ve become, in a strange way, a generation watching our own lives from the next room.

I don’t say that with judgment. I do it too. I catch myself reaching for my phone before my feet hit the floor. I catch myself half-listening to someone I love while a podcast plays in the background. I catch myself documenting instead of being.

So what is there to do?

The answer (and invitation to presence)

The answer isn’t more discipline.

The answer is solitude.

Not the lonely kind. The chosen kind.

The kind where you sit down on the porch with no phone, no podcast, no agenda, and let the silence get awkward for a while. The kind where the nervous system slowly remembers that nothing is asking anything of you. The kind where, eventually, the chatter softens, and you can feel the stillness underneath.

Tara Brach calls this coming home to yourself.

In mindfulness practice, that’s all there is to do.

You don’t need a week in the mountains to begin. You don’t need an hour. You need fifteen minutes and the willingness to be a little uncomfortable while your mind finds its way back to your body.

So here’s my invitation, friend: tomorrow morning, before the day picks you up and carries you off, give yourself a small pocket of solitude. Sit by a window. Walk without your phone. Drink your coffee without a screen in front of you.

See what’s there when nothing’s pulling at you.

I think you’ll find what my sister was pointing at in the Magic Garden — that the moment is, and always has been, right here.

Waiting for you to come back.

Waiting for you to enjoy.

With care,

Jimmy

P.S.

If you’re in search of more solitude, this Saturday, from 9 am - 12:15 pm, I’m co-hosting a mini-retreat with my colleague and friend, Tara Cariano, in-person and online.

Check out the link below if you’re interested.

Yes, I want to sign up

I write this to you with an open, burning heart.

I’ve been contemplating this piece below the surface of my thinking mind for quite some time.

We’re at a critical juncture in humanity.

Our attention is being stolen rapidly by social media and the news. Between social media health influencers telling you everything you touch or eat is toxic, business moguls saying that AI is coming for your job, and the daily, deathly decisions made by our ‘leader’, there’s a pull to keep up with the madness so you don’t get blindsided. And quite frankly, it’s exhausting.

Not only that, but it’s eating away at our souls, leaving us starving to discover what’s real and true. I know it. You know it. We all know it.

But what actions are we taking to ensure our hearts and minds stay connected in a world that’s trying to break us apart?

That’s the million-dollar question we should be asking ourselves each day.

Because each day we don’t, we fall deeper and deeper into the traps other people are setting up for us. No matter how good their intentions may be, it leaves our energy on E. It leaves us feeling hopeless, defeated, and stagnant.

So, what should we do about all this?

Return to what’s actually here.

The ground beneath us. The breath in our bodies. Our beating hearts. The people in our social circle and greater community. That’s really what matters. The feelings of love and connectedness between ourselves and the immediate world around us. That’s where the healing can begin. As long as you’re courageous enough to answer the call.

Lucky for you, my good friend Tara Cariano and I are hosting an online and on-land meditation retreat, Saturday, May 30th, from 9 am - 12:15 pm EST at The Sanctuary Community Wellness Center in Northfield, Vermont. We’ll oscillate between teachings, meditations of 10-20 minutes, and community discussion throughout the day.

It doesn’t matter if you’re brand new to meditation, someone with a dedicated practice, or someone looking to get back into practicing; all are welcome. Just show up as you are, and I promise you’ll be loved and supported by Tara, our community, and me.

So, will you join us and reclaim what was always yours?

Your heart and mind are counting on you.

Yes, I want to answer the call

My head snapped up to see where this voice came from.

It came from a middle-aged man who had also just finished up a workout. He had an endearing smile, which in turn made me smile, so I decided to continue the conversation even though we were both topless and wearing towels.

“Yeah, just trying to get back into it,” I said sheepishly. I pause and continue, “Lately, I’ve been noticing when I’m on my phone or computer, I start to ping-pong ball from one thing to the next and wonder how I ended up where I am.”

The man nodded to show his understanding of the predicament of the human mind’s relationship with “information” overload.

“Well, us old folk approve of reading books and not being on the internet. Keep it up.”

“Thanks,” I reply. A second smile emerged on my face as we both nodded at each other to signal the end of the conversation.

That conversation itself, along with the lovely book I dove into, struck a chord in me. Not an intellectual light bulb chord, but a visceral, somatic sensation throughout my entire body. The conversation and book helped me realize how many things I’m doing that are squashing my attention. They also helped me realize how many things I’m doing that are detracting from connecting to my body and heart.

Ever since I returned from the Reclaiming Wholeness retreat, I’ve gotten back into the fires of life. Teaching the future leaders of the world, coaching collegiate lacrosse, facilitating meditation sessions, keeping up with creative work, tending to my relationships, tending to my diabetic and hyperthyroid cat, attending weekly therapy sessions, and staying physically active.

That’s just the short list.

I could go into other things, but I don’t want to digress too much. I’d like to get to the point now.

Yes, the conversation had a lot of moments of awakening, but here’s the biggest one:

Starting over has the feelings of freshness, newness, excitement, and curiosity—all essential ingredients to creating and sustaining lasting change.

I realized my phone habits, sleep habits, eating habits, caffeine habits, and intoxicant habits (I’ve had a few drinks and a few smokes despite having built a streak of over 30 days sober) have been the root causes of most of my mental health challenges since returning from retreat.

And so, I’m vowing to begin again. Not as a grand gesture of ‘hey, look at me doing big things!’, but more as a gesture of kindness to myself and others. Although it has just kick-started, these small changes are starting to feel better.

So, what are those changes?

I’m eating more whole foods. I’m getting between 7 and 8 hours of sleep. I’m spending more time with my partner. I’m putting my phone away before 9 pm (most nights). I’m engaging in more yoga and stretching rather than strenuous exercise. And today will be my first day sober again from marijuana (I think I’m around a couple of weeks without alcohol).

So what does this all mean for you?

You, too, can begin again.

After all, that’s the point of mindfulness practice.

To return.

To start anew.

Over and over.

May you have the strength and courage to begin again.

- Jimmy

P.S.

1. Restack or share this post with someone if it resonated.

2. Drop a comment with a takeaway from this article!

3. Donate to Modern Mindfulness if you’d like to support our work together :)

Donation

I tossed my shoes off and looked at the enemy in front of me: two small flights of stairs. I let out an audible exhale. The type of exhale when you realize, “This is some shit.”

After playing two basketball games and refereeing five more, my body was spent.

My lower back was in knots. My torso was bent over from the pain and tightness. My left knee was swollen and held sharp pain from chronic patellar tendinitis. Meanwhile, my right ankle and Achilles were swollen to the size of a small balloon.

So, I did the only thing I could do.

Crawl up the stairs.

Let me tell you, this body pain I’ve experienced has been no picnic. At times, it has been hard to even walk without a limp.

Because of this pain, I haven’t done much sitting meditation. This has been proven to be an additional challenge because I find so much value in my sitting practice.

But sometimes, life has different ideas for us.

It has also created a new type of anxiety I’ve never experienced before.

Questions like this have come up:

What’s happening to my body? Is my back permanently f*cked? Will I ever walk up and down stairs without knee pain? Will I have to get hip replacement surgeries like my dad?

These questions, too, have frightened me to my core.

Maybe you can relate?

Perhaps you struggle with chronic pain. Maybe you have an old sports injury that flared up. Or maybe you’re just a human who isn’t immune to aging.

Although we all have the desire to be painless, unfortunately, pain is a part of life.

So, we have to learn how to work with this and keep our practice going.

Here are 5 ways I’ve kept my practice going to cultivate calm amidst the chaos life has thrown at me

Meditating while lying down

Sitting meditation ignites the pain I’ve felt.

So, I’ve meditated lying down. In the past, it has been difficult for me to stay awake — especially in the wee hours of the morning — but I’ve used techniques like keeping my eyes open and putting my arms out in front of me to stay alert.

Being able to meditate like this has kept my mindfulness momentum.

It has also helped me stay steady and consistent with my formal practice.

And through that consistency, I’ve experienced moments of a calm, painless body, moments of a mind that has stopped worrying, and moments of feeling free where I am.

However, that’s just the beginning.

Because meditation between transitions is another way to keep momentum going.

Meditating between transitions

Transitions don’t have to be moments for spacing out.

Instead, they can be moments of tuning in.

It’s these little moments that can compound over time to keep your body in a state of peace, rather than default to panic.

So, how do you meditate during transitions?

By breathing consciously during them.

Here are af few that I’ve found a lot of value in. Breathing mindfully from my car to my doorstep, between sips of coffee, when my feet hit the floor getting out of bed, and while opening or closing my laptop.

These are all things I do every day without thinking. Bringing that level of awareness to these activities keeps my mind anchored in the present, and thus prevents it from worrying about anything or fixating on my pain.

Not only that, but it also develops awareness of my body.

Another way to do that is through movement.

Making movement meditation

We humans, move fast.

It’s that pace that’s a catalyst to much of the anxiety and pain we experience. The injuries we experience are often due to mindless activity or ignoring pain in our bodies. Our anxiety is driven by the fact that we often think we’re ‘behind’.

But what if instead we slowed ourselves down?

What if we slowed down so much that we connected intimately with our bodies?

This act of slowing down helps drive more awareness from our thoughts to our physical sensations, allowing us to deeply know where we hold pain, tension, and discomfort. And the more we know about our bodies, the more we can tend to them with care.

Some ways that we can make movement meditation:

• Stretching areas of tightness

• Walking 10% slower

• Getting ready for your day 10% slower

Experiment with these and notice if your pain also changes.

Meditating while driving

How often do you drown out loud thoughts with music or a podcast while you commute?

If you’re like me, probably more than you need to.

Meditating while driving is another way to bring more awareness and attention to something mundane. But this practice will have no adverse side effects because bringing more attention to a dangerous activity like driving will only benefit everyone.

You’ll be more alert of yourself. You’ll be more alert of others on the road and traffic flow. You may also notice you actually enjoy driving without extra stimulation.

And the practice is simple.

You can anchor your attention to your body sitting, body breathing, or the wide panoramic vision in front of your windshield.

Meditating during conversations

Being in your body while talking is meditation.

Instead of waiting for your turn to speak or running through what the other person said in your mind to fully understand what they said, just be. Be with the sensations of the body as they arise and trust the mind will absorb the intellectual information.

Being in your body is a way to notice what arises for you when others speak.

You might notice that your solar plexus tightens when someone speaks angrily about something. You might also notice you get sick to your stomach when someone shares some appalling news. You may notice a lump in your throat when someone shares sad news.

Regardless of what you feel, it’s important THAT you feel.

And the more you do, the stronger your relationship with your body becomes.

The big lesson I’ve learned this week

Meditation doesn’t have to stop.

And it’s that momentum that’ll help you feel free.

Free from anxiety. Free from worry. And in moments, free from pain.

So keep practicing, my friends. Trust that it’ll set you free.

Before you go

1. Restack or share this post with someone if it resonated. Duck and I will appreciate it :)

2. Drop a comment with a takeaway from this article!

3. Donate to Modern Mindfulness if you’d like to support our work together :)

Donation

I want to quickly share that this weekend I’ll be leading a mini-meditation retreat this Saturday, May 2nd, from 9 am - 12:15 pm EST.

Sign up here if you’re interested.

Mini-retreat sign-up

It works quite well with this article because it’s based on returning to what’s here, regardless of circumstances, and using simple practices to regulate our nervous systems.

And with that, onto this week’s essay :)

The Manifestation of Agitation

“Damn it, Duck! I just got home!”

There he sat. At the foot of the couch, looking up at me tenderly as he reached his orange and white creamsicle-style right front paw up on the couch. Followed by his left. And then a lunge.

He had successfully jumped up onto the couch.

I had arrived home minutes ago from a 12-hour day of teaching and reffing basketball. The last thing I wanted was anyone in my personal space, including my four-legged friend.

I was exhausted.

That type of exhausted that when you get home, the only thing your body is willing to do is lie horizontal on the couch.

After all, teaching eight, nine, and ten-year-olds, half of whom are neurodivergent, will eventually suck the life out of someone, no matter how sweet the students are or how well trained the adult is in calming their nervous system.

Not to mention, refereeing isn’t a walk in the park either.

You’re getting palms-up reactions from players. Coaches question nearly every foul or out-of-bounds call you make. And worst of all, the ‘know-it-all’ parents shouting from the stands, insisting you blow your whistle more.

Because I was ‘on’ most of the day, my nervous system spent a large chunk of that day on high alert, and it was primed for some rest.

Duck, however, had other plans.

He head-butted my left arm in a way that said, “I missed you, Dad,” followed by purrs upon purrs.

“C’mon, dude. I’m just trying to relax.” I told him

The head-butting persisted. His soft eyes looked at me gently, and he blinked slowly, a sign of trust cats give us humans. So, I gave in.

As I re-positioned myself on the couch to lie down on my back, I rested him on my chest. The purrs multiplied in number and sound. With this 14-pound chunk of orange and white fur on me, I closed my eyes.

I breathed so deeply, Duck rose up and down with the rise and fall of my torso.

He didn’t seem to mind.

As he purred and I breathed, something interesting happened.

My shoulder muscles started to relax. My legs released their tension. The spiraling thoughts of conversations being replayed from the school day and calls being made from the basketball game faded into the background. First, it was a slow turning down. And eventually, my mind quieted and rested alongside my body.

All of a sudden, a thought arose:

Ahh. This is really what I needed.

My body — and Duck’s body — continued to relax for a few more minutes.

His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be in a deep sleep. I was so relaxed that I too followed suit and fell asleep there on the couch with him on my chest. It was a far cry from the initial feeling tone of the beginning of our encounter.

But at least I was able to cultivate the peace my body sought.

So, what did this teach me about nervous system regulation?

It taught me 3 lessons:

1. Co-regulation is a real thing — and it’s quite powerful

2. Loving-kindness is a way to settle both heart and mind simultaneously

3. The nervous system relief we seek is often found in what we’re pushing away

Let's dive into each of these further…

The Power of Co-Regulating

Why is co-regulation so powerful?

Oxytocin and serotonin.

Oxytocin is often known as the ‘cuddle chemical’, but it doesn’t release solely through physical touch. Essentially, any time you connect intimately with another being, whether they’re human or four-legged, your brain releases oxytocin because the brain signals to your nervous system that your connection to the other being is safe.

So what about serotonin?

Serotonin serves a similar function. It too is a neurochemical that signals to the body that things are okay as they are. It triggers a feeling of contentment in the present moment, which is one way the nervous system feels safe.

If the nervous system is content, it can’t be chaotic.

So, when Duck and I were breathing together, we were transmitting these powerful brain chemicals to each other. Well, I can’t speak for Duck, but I know I was receiving these based on how my body felt, haha.

And think about it:

If you have a larger group of people connecting authentically, this transmission will only grow and facilitate deeper, stronger regulation among the people practicing together.

That’s why meditating in community is so powerful.

Not a bad tradeoff for a gathering.

Onto loving-kindness:

Why Loving-Kindness Settles Both Heart and Mind

The modern mind holds tons of anger and anxiety.

We get angry about little things we don’t need to get angry about, and we also worry about little things that don’t often happen. Many of us have habituated these patterns of heart and mind due to the conditions we live in, work in, or were raised in.

Many times, it’s a combination of all three.

So what can we do about it?

We can practice a bit of loving-kindness. After all, it was the Buddha’s antidote to both fear and anxiety.

How do we practice?

By wishing ourselves and others well. We can do this through simple phrases like “May you be safe” or “May you be well.” We can also practice it as unconditional friendliness in our actions.

In the case of Duck and me, I was angry.

I got angry and agitated because I had already placed mental conditions on what would bring me happiness: alone time. So when that didn’t manifest, naturally, anger arose.

But instead of stewing in it, what’d I do?

I leaned into loving-kindness.

Instead of pushing him off the couch or retreating to another space in our apartment, I let him get close to me. I let him continue to head butt my left shoulder as his purrs sounded like a mini motor.

Then, I just surrendered.

I scooped him up and laid him on my chest to bring that unconditional friendliness to our encounter. I kept him on my chest and breathed with him. We were connected. We were tending to each other’s nervous systems through conscious breathing,

We didn’t wish each other any phrases, but the attitude of loving-kindness was present.

And that attitude allowed my muscles to relax and for a smile to appear on my face, which brought ease into my whole body.

Now, let’s talk about aversion:

Why We Must Face Aversion Head On (But With A Kind Heart)

Aversion is a bitch.

(Mom, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry for swearing, but I have to tell it like it is.)

When it comes to emotions, energetic states, and the thinking mind, aversion is the annoying horse fly or mosquito that won’t go away. It’s always there to make things worse.

But many of us wind up making things worse by being aversive to aversion.

An unpleasant experience arises, and instead of embracing it, we push it away. Then, we add to the pain by pairing that pushing with the desire for our circumstances to be different.

How does this relate to Duck and me?

I got agitated when he showed up in my personal space. That was aversion. I pushed him away with my words and coupled that with a strong desire to be by myself — aversion to the aversion.

But, here’s how everything shifted:

I turned toward aversion with a kind heart.

How?

Through surrender.

Instead of pushing him away more with my words or physically with my hand, I just surrendered. I dropped the desire for the preference of being alone. I sat with the agitation and said:

“Okay, it’s like this now.”

And that was the trigger.

That was the trigger to allow the melting of tension in both my mind and body. It was the trigger for relaxation and connection with my furry best friend. If I hadn’t made space for that, I’d still be annoyed by that moment to this day.

But instead, I can share how it was transformative for me.

Turning toward aversion is exactly what I needed to do to let it go.

And maybe it can help you let go a little more as well.

If you do, I know your nervous system will be grateful.

Before you go

1. Restack or share this post with someone if it resonated. Duck and I will appreciate it :)

2. Drop a comment with a takeaway from this article!

3. Donate to Modern Mindfulness if you’d like to support our work together :)
   

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I hope this week’s edition of Modern Mindfulness finds you as well as can be and feeling at ease. However, I’m aware you may be reading this with something on your mind, pain in your heart, or in the midst of difficulty.

No matter what you may be experiencing at this moment, I’m sending you loving-kindness.

This week, I’d like to offer some reflections on the value of mindfulness meditation practice in today’s world. This is for someone with an interest in the practice, mixed feelings about its value, or who is skeptical because they tried it before and didn’t feel like it ‘worked’ for them.

Without further ado, let’s dive in.

The Modern Mind

The modern mind of humankind is quite something these days.

It feasts its eyeballs on all kinds of screens throughout the day. Some are pocket-sized screens, others are in the shape of a laptop, while others come in the form of a television. Through these screens, we seek information, entertainment, something soothing, and in some cases, something outrageous.

Needless to say, the usage of all these screens often points to two common threads:

1. Discontent with our direct experience

2. Disconnection from our direct experience

And thus, millions of us have an unhappy mind.

When we’re constantly dissatisfied with our reality, we dwell in doom and gloom and spin up fantasies to create a picture of what ‘the good life’ is like.

A larger house. More money in our bank accounts. Getting paid for our passion.

I’ll at least be one to admit that that’s often my experience when my mind stirs up ‘the good life’.

Maybe you can relate.

The Modern Mind also does a great job of buying into stories.

We’re fed over 100x more information through our screens each day than anyone else in history. That alone is frightening and overstimulating, simultaneously. The information we’re being fed also serves a purpose:

Get us out of our bodies and into our minds.

The antics of our ‘leader’ here in the United States get a lot of people down. And honestly, if you have even half a heart, how could you not get angry, frustrated, saddened, and afraid by some of the actions he has taken? The antics of corporate greed in the forms of Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, Sam Altman, and others also grind people’s gears because none of them are for the people of the United States or the people of Earth.

So yeah, it’s hard to have a happy mind during these times.

Especially when we’re driving down Dissatisfaction Drive every day.

But the real question is this:

Is the mind always dissatisfied?

Maybe the truth of mindfulness can help us answer that question.

The Reality of Mindfulness Practice

Mindfulness isn’t a practice of turning away.

It’s a practice of turning toward what’s here.

Therefore, if you’ve been someone who constantly reaches for your little screen every time you feel a bit of discomfort, this is for you (but don’t feel ashamed. Even as a practitioner of over 7 years and someone who has sat several silent retreats, I still get caught up in my phone, too.)

When we start to turn toward what’s here, we can actually learn what’s here.

Sounds simple, but not always easy in practice, so let me explain:

When you notice your mind spinning and spiraling into thoughts that create discontent or dissatisfaction, there’s also something happening in your body simultaneously. Your heart rate might be rising. There might be some tightness in your chest. There may even be a lump in your throat. Your shoulders could even be parked by your ears. Your stomach might be in shambles.

Why do I share this?

Because what we aren’t aware of is what we’re unconsciously resisting.

And as the saying goes, what we resist persists.

Fortunately, mindfulness is a training in awareness, and therefore is a potential remedy for dissatisfaction and discontent, as well as the aforementioned physical symptoms of dissatisfaction and discontent.

That’s the ultimate reason to practice: to get intimate with your direct experience in hopes that it shifts over time.

Better yet, we perceive experience differently.

Here are 5 ways that can take place through mindfulness practice.

5 Reasons to Practice Mindfulness — even if it has done nothing for you

Reason 1: Mindfulness trains attention

“The mind is the forerunner of all things.” - the Buddha

Thus, whatever we place our attention on becomes our reality. So, if we’re constantly attending to the endless sorrows of the world, that’s what our mind state will be. Conversely, if we’re focusing on the joys of the world, our mind is joyful.

And mindfulness is how we can start to choose.

Mindfulness meditation is a training that helps us recognize where our mind is, and subsequently, gives us the choice to put it on something else. And when you can learn the skill of directing and redirecting your attention, you give yourself more opportunities to experience happiness, joy, and contentment.

I’d say that’s a solid tradeoff.

Reason 2: You create a different relationship with pain

Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.

Suffering is essentially the mental story that compounds our pain. The moment we stub our toe on the bed frame (pain), and then we lambast ourselves with insults about how we can’t believe we did that (suffering).

Instead of suffering all the time, mindfulness teaches us that pain is a part of life.

It also teaches us that it’s impermanent.

The pains we experience during meditation come and go like everything else in our lives. And when we recognize pain is a part of life, and that it’ll eventually subside, we don’t have to believe the mind-made story that something is inherently wrong with us.

Instead, we can recognize pain as it is.

Here’s another kicker:

When we start to get intimate with pain, we truly start to experience the absolute truth that it’s not always here.

Meaning, we notice the absence of pain in addition to noticing its presence.

And when we notice its absence, we can bask in the satisfaction of painlessness.

Reason 3: You’ll be able to regulate your nervous system in real time

As much as we try, we can’t think our way out of anxiety.

But we can breathe our way out of it.

Breathing is a way to settle our nervous systems when they get hijacked by fear or worry. Rather than running through the laundry list of things to do to get rid of the anxiety, we can breathe through it. We can notice its physical texture: rapid heart rate, tight muscles, and contraction in the chest.

And then, with every breath, recognize those symptoms shrinking to eventually reach a state of collectedness, groundedness, and stability.

Reason 4: You’ll create a different relationship with your life experience

Life is going to life.

Therefore, it doesn’t have to be a certain way for us to feel content.

We have a choice in how we respond to what life throws at us, and mindfulness is how we build our response muscles. Instead of getting flustered over minor inconveniences like traffic, receiving the wrong coffee order, or waiting at the doctor’s office, you’ll simply recognize them as they are.

“It’s like this now,” in the words of Ajahn Chah and Ajahn Sumato.

When we experience sickness, we can say: “Sickness is like this.” When we experience frustration, we can remind ourselves: “Frustration is like this.” And there’s a subtle sense of relief when we surrender to what is.

And when we can surrender to that reality, we can at least let go of our uneasiness for a little while.

Reason 5: You’ll smile more

Joy is here, but a distracted mind prevents us from seeing it.

However, a mind that’s mindful is aware of joy, even when sorrow is present. It can recognize what it feels like in the body: warmth, radiant tingles, a sense of spaciousness. It can also recognize the causes and conditions that cultivate happiness and joy.

And when you know what brings you joy and make a conscious effort to do those things, smiling is inevitable :)

Bonus: You might enjoy being mindful

Who knows?

Maybe being present was all you needed to feel a bit more joyful.

Putting it all together

I’m not going to sugarcoat it; the world feels like it’s on fire right now.

But that doesn’t mean we have to get burned while standing in the fire.

Instead, we can use our practice to help us feel that pain and make wise choices to alleviate that pain for ourselves and others.

I can’t think of a more heroic act in these times.

So go on, my friend.

Take your superpower of mindfulness into the world.

With love,

Jimmy 💜💚

Before You Go

1. Which part of this piece resonated with you the most? Let me know in the comments!

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If you’re interested in developing a mindfulness habit to create a different way of perceiving life, reply ‘habit’ in the comments or in a reply email.

She stared into my soul as if to say, “What are you gonna do about it?”

This was a nine-year-old. This student just looked me dead in the eye and completely disrespected me in front of a classroom full of peers and a couple of my colleagues.

Everyone waited on the edge of their seats for my response.

The heat had risen in my chest the moment the last word left her mouth. My jaw was clenched tighter than a pickle jar, and my shoulders were glued to my ears.

Old me would’ve snapped back.

But mindful me?

I paused. I breathed. I felt my feet on the floor. And I let my shoulders drop.

Then, I coolly replied:

“I don’t appreciate that disrespect, and I’m not going to tolerate it. Go take a break.”

I was clear and direct, while also exuding the calm that the situation desperately needed.

That moment didn't happen because I downloaded an app and used it a few times.

Here are 3 more lessons we don’t learn through digital meditation:

Lesson 1: Mindfulness belongs in the struggles of stress

Mindfulness isn’t a stress reducer; it’s a stress-tolerance expander.

Sadly, meditation apps are often marketed as ways to reduce stress. So when we don’t experience the reduction of stress of absence of stress, we feel like the practice is purposeless.

Although it’s not all downside with apps.

Apps are great for building a foundation of mindfulness skills that can expand stress tolerance. Skills like attention, self-awareness, mind-body unification, and emotional regulation are all necessary to keep stress levels regulated before we reach overwhelm.

However, the real transformation we seek happens when stress actually hits.

Think about these scenarios for a moment:

How do you respond when your loved one says something that ignites sadness, guilt, and disappointment in yourself? How do you respond when your job keeps throwing endless assignments and projects at you when you know you have nothing more to give? How do you respond when you get hit with unexpected news that creates dysregulation in your nervous system?

Those moments are when mindfulness matters the most.

It’s the skill that creates the space we need to make wise choices that support our well-being and the well-being of others. Without it, we get tangled in the mess of reactivity, often left picking up the pieces of fractured relationships, words that should’ve been unspoken, and actions that shouldn’t have been taken.

But if we can apply the mindfulness skills you build through formal meditation, you’ll be the steady presence needed during hardship.

No, we won’t always be calm, but we’ll definitely be grounded.

Lesson 2: Thoughts are real but not always true

One of the core skills of mindfulness is noticing thoughts come and go.

As we build this skill, we start to notice certain types of thoughts come back over and over again that have a distinct emotional charge to them. Thoughts like:

What am I doing with my life?
Am I in the right profession?
Why do I feel like I’m not enough?

In this case, mental noting is also not enough.

We need something different because these recurring thoughts are deeply rooted beliefs about ourselves. They’re mind-made stories that we validate through sensations of outrage, anger, anxiety, and self-pity that pop up with the thoughts.

So what do we do with that?

In that case, when our well-being parade is getting rained on, we can do investigative practices, such as RAIN or mindfulness of thoughts. This is much different than the mental noting practice because it requires the practitioner to contemplate what’s below the surface of those thoughts with the hope of uncovering the hidden emotions and feelings.

Once those are uncovered, we can recognize the ultimate truth:

Thoughts are real but not always true.

It’s our negative-bias brain that latches onto the idea of treating every harmful thought, every worry, and every sorrow as a massive danger. In the end, 99% of the time, we’re okay as we are, despite the difficult feelings we may be experiencing.

Coming to a bodily knowing about this helps us trust and realize that there is a fundamental ‘okayness’ that always lives inside our hearts.

Lesson 3: Awareness is a muscle

Without training, muscles don’t grow.

The same goes for awareness.

I like to define awareness as the ability to notice and pay attention to what’s arising from the perspective of the observer, rather than taking thoughts, feelings, or emotions personally.

What does that mean exactly?

It means instead of believing we are the things happening to us, we notice the things happening to us from a mental distance. We notice the anger that fills the body by recognizing the tightness in our muscles and the heat in our faces. Rather than believing we are the anger and we have to do something about it, we simply let it be.

And we train awareness by practicing being aware of what’s happening as life unfolds.

Not by reading about it.
Not by listening to a talk or podcast about it.
Not by listening to a 10-minute guided session and moving on with our day.

Sure, these activities can prime the mind for awareness, but the best way to train and feed the muscle of awareness?

Sitting in the fires of life and not letting them burn us.

What to do with this information

Life will serve us plenty of moments where it’s more helpful to pause before we react.

And if we can do this over and over, the events that used to rattle our cage will start to become less intense because of the fact that we’ve built our tolerance for stress. Slowly, steadily, and mindfully.

Sure, the apps may have given us the spark.

I know Headspace did for me.

But life gives us the opportunity to really practice.

Before you go - 3 quick notes

1. Which lesson resonated with you the most? Let me know in the comments!

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The Dharma is a nickname for the Eightfold Path. The Path followed by the one and only Siddartha Guatama that gave rise to the practice that we Westerners and folks around the globe call Buddhism.

There are many aspects of the Eightfold Path and trainings to undertake.

But the most valuable qualities of the Dharma are two fold:

1. What it reveals

2. What it heals

Note: I’m not here to preach or tell anyone what to do. Rather, I’m here to share my direct experience.

I have yet to find a way of living that’s more revealing and healing than the Dharma.

Practicing the Dharma has opened my mind and heart in ways that nothing else has. Through this practice, I’ve learned so much about how to be a better human being, and more importantly, how to be a better human being to myself.

But before we get into all that, it’s important to get a brief overview of the Dharma.

The Basics of The Eightfold Path

The training of the Eightfold Path is broken into three sections and practiced in their own ways.

1. Sīla - aka ethical conduct

2. Paññā - aka insight and understanding

3. Samādhi- aka concentration and meditation

Let’s start with Sīla.

The ethics of Buddhism include a threefold training: right action, right speech, and right livelihood. Each of these is a guidepost to how one should conduct themselves in the world by bringing conscious awareness to how they act, speak, and make money.

Right speech is the practice of speaking the truth, and nothing but the truth. It requires refraining from harmful speech and idle chatter that hurts others, such as gossip. Engaging in this practice prevents the mind from getting stirred up in greed, hatred, or delusion. Meanwhile, right action is the practice of acting with ‘goodness.’ Your actions are kind, loving, and thoughtful, and thus you refrain from physical harm through not killing, not engaging in sexual misconduct, and not causing harm to oneself or the environment. Lastly, right livelihood ensures your way of making a living doesn’t bring additional suffering to the world. For example, if you’re selling alcohol, that may not be a way of practicing right livelihood. Similarly, if you’re an arms dealer, that’s also not a way to practice right livelihood. The reason is that your financial gain will lead to the suffering of others. However, being a teacher, coach, or someone of genuine service to others can qualify as a way to practice right livelihood

When these three elements of ethics are at play and practiced diligently, wisdom and concentration can become byproducts.

But before we get into wisdom, it’s important to discuss the threefold training in concentration.

The three concentration factors are right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration. These factors are cultivated through meditation. Both formal and informal.

To cultivate right effort, the practitioner is encouraged to give a Goldilocks type effort: not too much and not too little. This applies in both formal meditation practice and what Thich Nhat Hanh referred to as Engaged Buddhism: bringing the practice into your life. Right effort allows for the attunement and alignment of citta, aka the heart-mind. Because in Buddhism, heart and mind aren’t separate, they’re one. Right mindfulness is cultivated through the act of paying attention to the qualities of one’s heart-mind as it is, without trying to change its content — unless you’re doing a practice to uproot unwholesome heart-mind states. A way to practice right mindfulness is naming, labeling, and being present with whatever’s in one’s heart-mind in its full form. If you’re experiencing pain, you name the pain and feel it. If you’re experiencing anger, name the anger and feel it. It’s through diligent right effort applied to right mindfulness that leads to right concentration. Right concentration isn’t this state of heart-mind where we’re completely clamped down and zoned in on what’s happening. Rather, it’s a mind that’s collected through the gentle ease cultivated through right effort and right mindfulness. It’s not locked into one object. It’s a mind that’s spacious and aware of what’s there.

When concentration training is practiced in conjunction with ethical training, wisdom will arise naturally.

Wisdom is broken into two sections: right view and right intention.

Although I’m mentioning the wisdom factors last, the Buddha taught the Eightfold Path by beginning and ending with the wisdom factors.

Right view is the understanding of the Four Noble Truths: There is suffering, there are causes and conditions of suffering, there is the possibility of the cessation of suffering, and there’s a path that leads to the cessation of suffering (i.e., the Eightfold Path). Damn, the Buddha was wise and logical! Right intention is the attitude of your practice. When a practitioner is rooted in right intention, their desire to walk the path is wholesome and for the benefit of all beings, not solely for individual gain or achievement. This creates a healthy, wholesome desire for practice and for one to continue this practice throughout their waking years.

The final thing I’ll mention about the Eightfold Path is that all eight parts work in harmony, like the parts of a car wheel. The wheel cannot function if one or more of the parts are not functioning properly.

The revealing qualities

In formal Buddhist meditation, there’s no hiding.

When you’re courageous enough to sit with your direct experience, as it is, without turning away, a lot will arise. All the anxiety you’ve felt from ‘not becoming.’ All the anger you’ve pushed away. All the unmet grief. The painful sensations of the body. The mind-made stories telling you to abort the practice.

It’s all there. Waiting for your attention.

And I’ll be honest, it’s overwhelming.

But here’s the part about the practice that took me a while to recognize:

The pain is the point.

Not that you need to seek pain in your practice, but rather the pain is something you can’t turn away from if you’re truly seeking transformation. Even Thai Forest Monk said that the suffering we turn towards is how we transform our heart-mind.

Through several years of practice that have had some intense seasons, I’ve noticed the following tendencies:

• A restless mind inclined toward planning.

• A body that has felt pain from previous athletic injuries.

• An aversive mind that doesn’t want experiences to be frustrating, anxiety-provoking, anger-inducing, or pain-producing.

• A greedy and deluded mind that would like my life to form in the shape of the fantasies that it creates.

• A heart that has pushed away the love that I truly deserve from myself and others.

• A heart that has been afraid to give unconditional love.

And that’s just the short list.

Although my practice has exposed the parts of me that I didn’t want to see and created painful experiences as a result of that revealing, I couldn’t be more grateful for that revealing.

Because in that revealing, I could take steps toward healing.

The healing qualities

I’ve struggled for most of my life with anger, anxiety, and depression. But it wasn’t until I started meditating that I realized how much those experiences were affecting my well-being and quality of life. Since I’ve practiced meditation — specifically Vipassana — I’ve truly started to develop wisdom, concentration, and a heart that is learning how to love.

I’ve been able to see my anger, anxiety, depression, and all other mental states with clarity. And over time, through patience, persistence, and wise effort, I’ve learned how to see those experiences with tenderness, compassion, and impersonality.

That was the game changer.

For decades, I believed anger, anxiety, depression, and other uncomfortable experiences belonged to me. But that was never true. They were simply experiences moving through me because I was grasping onto the ideas that they shouldn’t be there and my experience should be different. However, through the Dharma, I’ve learned that these experiences can only move through me once I start to accept them as they are.

I even recall a retreat experience where I berated myself on the last day because I wasn’t practicing correctly. In that moment, I noticed the inner critic gently and without judgment. And from that place of acceptance, an insight arose:

Wow, I’ve been unkind to myself for almost 20 years.

Tears formed at and flowed from the corners of my eyes at this realization. But it was through the act of non-judgmental acceptance that I could start to work with it rather than push it away. Since then, I try to notice when my heart-mind is entangled in the depths of despair, so I can release that despair through the simple acts of acceptance and letting go.

From that place of acceptance, we can all start to heal through the process of accepting and letting go. Accepting and letting go.

You might begin just there. With acceptance first. After that, you may move into kind investigations of the roots of your suffering. With kind investigation, you learn about the causes and conditions for those experiences. From there, you can make wise changes to remove those causes and conditions and reduce the amount of time you spend tied up in unwholesome mental and emotional states of greed, hatred, and delusion.

Through that process, I’ve also learned that most of my experiences of anger, anxiety, and depression have flavors of those three aforementioned defilements. But now, instead of pushing experiences like this away or pretending like they’re not there, I invite them in. Through the warm invitation, I can actually start to work with them. I do so by getting curious about them. And it’s that curiosity that sparks understanding, which paves the way for love. Because, as Thich Nhat Hanh once said, “Love is understanding.”

And when we can start to work with these unpleasant experiences in a loving and understanding attitude, it ignites the process of freeing myself from them.

And that’s the healing work.

That’s the liberation of the Dharma.

Before You Go

If this post resonated with you, I encourage you to share this article with a friend.

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Or, if your heart calls you to it, you can donate a few dollars to help inspire more contemplations and pragmatic mindfulness practices to help you alleviate your suffering and the suffering of others.

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It’s been about a month since I returned from my retreat, Reclaiming Wholeness.

And I’ll admit, the high I left retreat with has completely vanished.

Life feels fast again.
Irritation is high.
I’m getting back into some old habits.

And I’m noticing something about this.

My heart isn’t as open as it was for the first couple of weeks after retreat.

At first, I found myself frustrated and sinking back into lamenting and self-loathing.

“C’mon, man. I thought we were done with this?” “Wow, you’re seriously getting frustrated about that?” “Dude, that’s not reality. You’re an idiot. Snap out of it.” And the pain from these habits of self-criticism sinks into my heart like the slow drive of a hammer and nail into a 2x4.

Although I’ve hinted at some of the signals about my heart closing, I’d like to offer a few reflections on what these look like in real time.

My hope is that they resonate with you, and perhaps the three practices I’ll describe will start to open your heart, too.

Sign 1: Irritability

When every little thing starts to piss you off, that’s a good sign your heart is closing.

For me, I’ve realized this by recognizing how I react. In my job, each blurt out from a student, each time they boom rush me with “Mr. Dubs, can you…” makes me grit my teeth. I know it’s getting worse because I’ve furrowed my brow when offered expressions of love from my partner.

If my heart had been open the way I know it can, I would’ve been more responsive.

Rather than gritting my teeth and expressing boundless impatience at eight, nine, and ten-year-olds, I would’ve paused to breathe and teach them how they, too, can practice patience. I would’ve paused, smiled, and opened to the offering of love that I deserve.

Fortunately, I’ve caught myself before I’ve fallen too deeply.

I have my practice to thank for that.

Sign 2: Rumination

There’s a reason why rumination leads to anxiety and depression.

It’s a zero-sum game disguised as thoughtful problem-solving, but it just perpetuates the experiences of dissatisfaction and worry, while spreading stress throughout the body.

I’ve been ruminating on a few things lately.

My career (per usual, not over that one yet!).
My habits.
My taxes.

And I’ve justified my rumination through the “When I _____, I’ll be okay” mental model.

Meaning, when I have a different job or find my groove in my job, I’ll feel okay. When I have all my habits dialed in, my well-being will be what it should be. When I finally get my corrected W-2’s and I can file my taxes, I’ll be okay.

Sure, some of this worry is valid, but not to the extent that I’m ruminating.

In the end, it’s just causing more self-made suffering.

Sign 3: Lack of Appreciation

I haven’t been as appreciative of the little things as I could be.

My coffee in the morning is made with tenderness, love, and care, yet sometimes I find myself gulping half of it down to get to work on time. I have missed acknowledging students for their acts of kindness and compassion toward each other, as well as their honest efforts in their school days. I’ve also missed the moments of attempted connection from my partner.

Those moments became tainted with a lack of appreciation because my mind was elsewhere.

I wasn’t paying attention to what was right in front of me.

The Common Thread of All The Signals

The common factor of all three signals of a closing heart is a hindrance:

Aversion.

Aversion, as described by the Buddha, is a mental state of not wanting. It pushes life away because the individual is dissatisfied with what’s in the here and now.

But the paradox is this:

The more we push things away, the stronger they return.
And the more we make aversion a habit, dissatisfaction also becomes a habit.

However, when we can open to life as it is, both the experiences we’re witnessing, hearing, and ultimately feeling, we can tune our hearts to match the necessary tone needed for the outer world.

Here are three practices that are helping me do just that.

3 Practices to Re-Open the Heart

1. RAIN

   RAIN stands for an acronym. Recognize, allow and accept, investigate, and nurture. It’s a practice of recognizing what’s happening in your heart, or perhaps taking time to meditate on something that has happened or something you’re worried about. Then, you allow and accept the feelings as they are. No pushing, no pulling, no wanting something different. After that, investigate where those feelings are coming from, and investigate with kindness, not judgment. In my case, I’ve recognized I’m doing a really great job pushing things away because of fear, agitation, and not wanting to face life as it is. These insights have helped cultivate the understanding that it’s time to keep practicing acceptance, patience, loving-kindness, and equanimity.

2. Loving-Kindness

   Loving-kindness is a practice where you wish all beings well: yourself, someone you love, a neutral person, a difficult person, and then all beings everywhere. This one helps teach practitioners that all humans want two things: to be happy and free of suffering. Although everyone’s means to those ends don’t align with alleviation of suffering, practicing loving-kindness for difficult beings and all beings everywhere starts to open us to the reality that there will always be suffering. But we can do everything in our power to alleviate wit within ourselves and the communities with which we’re involved. And that’s where real change happens.

3. Equanimity

   Equanimity is the practice of sitting with your experience as it is with a stable and steady heart. It’s a practice in grounding amidst the fires of life without getting burned. Being courageous enough to stay when every ounce of your flesh and every cell in your body wants to flee. This practice is one I’ve been leaning into heavily. And I’ll admit, it’s well worth your while.

Even if you choose one of these practices, your heart will start to stabilize. And when it feels stable, it will begin to open.

One moment at a time.

With love,

Jimmy

Before You Go

If this post resonated with you, I encourage you to share this article with a friend.

Share

Or, if your heart calls you to it, you can donate a few dollars to help inspire more contemplations and pragmatic mindfulness practices to help you alleviate your suffering and the suffering of others.

Donation

P.S.

If you’re interested in trying any of these practices…

Reply ‘practice’ to this email.

I write this newsletter to you with a full heart.

An attitude of belonging is an idea I’ve been practicing with and thinking about ever since I finished my retreat: Reclaiming Wholeness.

Here’s what has recently sparked this reflection.

The common denominator of humaning

Everyone experiences pain.

Everyone suffers.

No matter how much spiritual practice you’ve done, no matter how much therapy you’ve attended, no matter how many mushrooms or ayahuasca you’ve consumed, you still experience pain and suffering in your day-to-day life.

Sometimes it’s your direct experience. Sometimes it’s the experience of others that radiates through your body and heart, making it a collective pain.

However, no one enjoys these experiences.

At least no one that I know of.

The interesting part is that we can all get caught up in trying to push that pain and suffering away.

We feel it bubble up, and we tighten.
We notice its presence, and we panic.
We push against what’s here, seeking relief.

But that aversion does the opposite of what we want.

It perpetuates our self-made cycles of pain and suffering.

So if pushing pain away via aversion doesn’t work to cease our pain and suffering, what does?

An attitude of belonging.

What’s an attitude of belonging?

An attitude of belonging is what it sounds like.

An attitude of mind that inclines toward letting all experiences belong.

So, instead of pushing away painful thoughts or bodily sensations that lead to aversive thoughts like, “This is terrible,” “Why am I in pain?”, or “When will this end?”, we invite those experiences in.

Instead of clamping down on those thoughts and feelings tones in an attempt to push away the pain, we embrace them as they are.

We let the pain stay.

How is that attitude helpful?

An attitude of belonging is helpful because it can lead to cessation of pain and suffering.

How?

Because we can’t let go of what we acknowledge we’re holding, the attitude of belonging does just that — it acknowledges our experiences as they are.

This attitude helps reinforce the wisdom of impermanence — nothing in this life lasts forever, not even our pain. It may come and go, but it’s never a permanent stay.

And when we can handle discomfort with the wisdom of impermanence, we profoundly increase our capacity to handle pain, suffering, and stress.

And most importantly, when we can get intimate with pain when it’s here, we can also get intimate with pain when it isn’t present.

That’s where our relief resides.

So, how can we actually tap into this attitude?

How does it work?

It starts with intention.

Setting the intention to embrace your pain and suffering is bold, but it’s one of the most transformative heart-mind practices out there.

It continues with noticing the mind’s tendency to push away what’s uncomfortable and changing the conversation.

Saying simple phrases like “It’s like this now” or “This too belongs” is the foundation of creating a radical change in how we handle discomfort. It’s a constant reminder to ourselves that we’re capable of handling discomfort in its many shapes and forms.

And it gets repeated each time one of these experiences arises in our lives.

You won’t have a 100% success rate.

You’ll still experience pain.

Your mind will still be aversive.

But you’ll start to learn so much more about yourself.

You’ll learn what causes your pain.

You’ll learn ways to navigate it so it doesn’t multiply.

And you’ll learn that if you let it stay for the time it needs to, it’ll allow you to heal, let go, and return to your heart.

Best wishes, my friend.

May you be well on your journey.

-Jimmy

Before You Go

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