Health Journal Online

Category: Mental Health

  • Feeling Like a Fraud in Your Own Mindfulness Practice

    Feeling Like a Fraud in Your Own Mindfulness Practice

    Over the years, I’ve worked closely with many meditation practitioners and Buddhist authors, some of whom have been clients, and my own practice has grown alongside those relationships. Being surrounded by people with such depth of experience can be inspiring, but it can also quietly raise the bar for where you think you should be in your ability to navigate life’s difficulties.

    One of the most humbling moments for me came during a trip to the emergency room related to complications from my autoimmune disease. I was in excruciating pain when a close friend, who also has a long meditation practice, asked, half joking, “Are you able to outsmart your pain?”

    We both laughed. The joke landed because another friend of mine, physician and meditation teacher Dr. Christiane Wolf, is a colleague and former client who has written about working with chronic pain through mindfulness in her book Outsmart Your Pain.

    I remember telling her at one point, almost defensively, that I meditate every single day. I had this quiet, competitive edge about it. I did not want to miss a day, even in the hospital. Missing a day felt like a failure.

    I remember telling her at one point, almost defensively, that I meditate every single day. I had this quiet, competitive edge about it. I did not want to miss a day, even in the hospital. Missing a day felt like a failure. In hindsight, that belief feels a little ridiculous, but at the time, it carried real weight.

    At that moment, I was not able to outsmart my pain.

    My response was immediate: “No. I’m not able. I’d like the pain meds.”

    Even as I said it, a small part of me felt inadequate. I was feeling like a fraud. If I had spent years around mindfulness practitioners and teachings about working skillfully with pain, shouldn’t I be better at this?

    Health challenges have given me many moments like that, moments when I questioned my ability to navigate difficulty in the way I believed I should.

    What I didn’t understand at the time was that practice does not always show up in the exact moment of distress. Sometimes it shows up in how we move through the experience afterward.

    Christiane later offered a perspective that shifted something for me.

    “Angela,” she said, “if you’re not meditating when you’re hospitalized, it doesn’t make you a failure. Your practice to date has prepared you to navigate these moments. That’s what the practice is for.”

    “Angela,” she said, “if you’re not meditating when you’re hospitalized, it doesn’t make you a failure. Your practice to date has prepared you to navigate these moments. That’s what the practice is for.”

    It was a simple reminder, but an important one. I realized how quickly I had turned a moment of human vulnerability into a judgment about whether I was doing the practice “well enough.”

    Around the same time, I was helping a menopause telehealth company develop educational content and share mindfulness practices for women navigating perimenopause and menopause. I had no trouble guiding others through meditation or creating resources that helped people access the practice.

    Yet privately, I sometimes struggled to apply the same steadiness to my own life.

    That tension, between helping others access mindfulness and questioning my own ability to embody it, was incredibly revealing. It showed me how quickly self-judgment can creep in, and how easily I hold myself to impossible standards. More importantly, it helped me see where I still have work to do, on the cushion and off.

    Naming the Experience

    As months passed, I became more curious about what might be happening beneath the surface of my experience. I understood the stress and anxiety tied to my health challenges. Those had been part of my life for years. But this felt deeper.

    I began to question my beliefs about how I was supposed to handle difficulty. Clearly, I had internalized an idea of what this should look and feel like, especially for someone with as much mindfulness experience as I had. After more than 15 years working in this space, I had unconsciously decided that I should not be struggling at all.

    I began to question my beliefs about how I was supposed to handle difficulty. Clearly, I had internalized an idea of what this should look and feel like, especially for someone with as much mindfulness experience as I had. After more than 15 years working in this space, I had unconsciously decided that I should not be struggling at all.

    Psychologists have a term for a similar pattern in professional life. The impostor phenomenon, first described by Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes in 1978, refers to the persistent feeling that we are falling short of a role we are supposed to inhabit, even when there is ample evidence that we belong there.

    While this concept is often discussed in career settings, a similar dynamic can arise in contemplative practice.

    Experienced practitioners are still human. We can be just as overwhelmed by everyday stressors as anyone else, and often, the mind is quick to judge that experience. Mine tends to sound like, If you were truly a mindfulness practitioner, you wouldn’t be feeling this way.

    In those moments, the mind takes a very human experience and reframes it as failure. You’re an impostor.

    Part of what makes this so challenging is that we begin looking for evidence to support that belief, convincing ourselves we are failing at something we were never meant to perfect.

    Part of what makes this so challenging is that we begin looking for evidence to support that belief, convincing ourselves we are failing at something we were never meant to perfect.

    What About Stress?

    To be alive in these times is to experience sustained levels of stress. It does not take much, turning on the news, scrolling through headlines, or navigating daily responsibilities, to feel the weight of political unrest, global uncertainty, financial pressure, social division, and personal strain.

    The nervous system absorbs all of it.

    So how do we regulate ourselves in the midst of this? And what does this have to do with mindfulness impostor syndrome?

    Research in stress physiology shows that when the brain perceives a threat, the body shifts into survival mode. Heart rate increases, breathing changes, and attention narrows toward potential danger.

    In these states of activation, it can feel much harder to access the awareness we have worked so hard to cultivate. This can create a confusing internal signal: If I have these tools, why can’t I use them right now?

    For mindfulness practitioners, this can easily be misinterpreted as a failure of practice.

    But the nervous system is not malfunctioning in these moments. It is responding exactly as it was designed to.

    This misunderstanding is where self-doubt can quietly take hold.

    Clear Seeing

    One of the most widely cited insights from psychiatrist Carl Jung is, “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”

    As mindfulness practice deepens, awareness expands. We become more attuned to our internal landscape, our thoughts, emotions, and reactions. As a result, we often begin to notice reactivity more clearly than we did before. What can feel like regression may actually be increased awareness.

    As mindfulness practice deepens, awareness expands. We become more attuned to our internal landscape, our thoughts, emotions, and reactions.

    As a result, we often begin to notice reactivity more clearly than we did before.

    What can feel like regression may actually be increased awareness.

    You might notice yourself getting triggered in situations where, in the past, you would have reacted automatically without even realizing it. Now, there is a pause. A recognition. A moment of seeing what is happening.

    That shift can feel uncomfortable, not because something is going wrong, but because something is being revealed.

    Research on mindfulness suggests that practice strengthens meta-awareness, our ability to observe our own mental and emotional states.

    The reactions themselves may not be new.

    What is new is our ability to see them.

    Expectations and Shame Are Here!

    Most of us carry an internal narrative, one that quietly projects expectations onto our daily lives. In mindfulness practice, this often takes the form of how we think we should feel when we sit.

    Calm. Patient. Equanimous. Grateful.

    We tend to measure success by the presence of these states, while overlooking the full range of human emotion, fear, anger, grief, uncertainty, that are equally part of our experience.

    We tend to measure success by the presence of these states, while overlooking the full range of human emotion, fear, anger, grief, uncertainty, that are equally part of our experience.

    When our lived reality does not match that internal expectation, shame can arise.

    During the months leading up to menopause, I found myself navigating unfamiliar sensations in my body. Many of my tools seemed to disappear. I felt reactive, scared, and uncertain about what was happening.

    And the narrative that followed was harsh:

    You should be handling this better.

    Who are you to guide others if you cannot manage this yourself?

    Instead of simply noticing stress, I added another layer: self- judgment.

    At times, mindfulness concepts themselves can become a form of pressure. Psychotherapist John Welwood described this dynamic as “spiritual bypassing,” using spiritual ideas to avoid or override difficult emotional realities.

    In practice, this can show up in subtle ways, but the result is often the same. We begin to feel guilt or shame about what we are experiencing.

    Dealing with Dysregulation

    Our ideas about mindfulness can sometimes work against us. If we believe the practice should make us calm and less reactive at all times, we set ourselves up for disappointment.

    Mindfulness is not about performing calmness.

    Mindfulness is not about performing calmness.

    As Allen Ginsberg once said, the task is simply to “notice what you notice.”

    When we cultivate awareness, we begin to see our reactions as they arise. Maybe you notice yourself getting triggered in a conversation. Maybe you pause instead of immediately reacting. Maybe you recognize, even afterward, that you were overwhelmed.

    These moments matter.

    Mindfulness meets us exactly where we are.

    It does not require that we arrive in a particular state.

    It asks us to meet whatever state we are in with a bit more awareness, and when possible, a bit more kindness.

    Research on self-compassion suggests that responding to difficult emotions with care rather than criticism supports emotional resilience and regulation.

    When we approach our experience this way, the narrative of failure begins to soften.

    Anyone who has spent time meditating knows that emotions will always arise. What changes is not the presence of emotion, but our relationship to it.

    Instead of asking, Why am I still reacting like this?

    We might ask:

    What is happening in the body right now?

    What is this reaction trying to tell me?

    These questions reopen the possibility of practice, even in the middle of difficulty.

    Anyone who has spent time meditating knows that emotions will always arise. What changes is not the presence of emotion, but our relationship to it.

    Moments of reactivity do not disqualify us from the practice.

    They remind us why we practice. Awareness is not something we perfect. It is something we return to, again and again.



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  • A Meditation to Settle Mind and Body for Sleep

    A Meditation to Settle Mind and Body for Sleep

    If you’re feeling restless before bed or in the middle of the night, try this extended practice to soothe racing thoughts and ease tension in the body.

    There are so many reasons why we might struggle to get to sleep and stay asleep. Work or relationship stress, health concerns, hormonal changes, the state of the world—there’s plenty to keep us awake at night.

    Here, Mark Bertin offers a soothing sleep practice to help soften our restlessness, using the breath as a calming anchor to gently allow our busy minds and tense bodies to rest.

    This is a great go-to practice to keep as part of your regular sleep routine, or whenever you need support to settle mind and body. The more you do it, the more it will signal to your brain and body that it’s time for rest.

    A Meditation to Settle Mind and Body for Sleep

    Read and practice the guided meditation script below, pausing after each paragraph. Or listen to the audio practice.

    1. Find a comfortable posture, typically lying on your back. Allow your arms and legs to fall gently to the side. If this posture isn’t comfortable for you, then find another posture you’ll be able to relax into over the course of this meditation. 
    2. Keep your eyes open if you like, or allow them to lightly close. Begin the practice by taking a few deeper breaths and focusing as best as you’re able on that physical sensation your body makes with each breath, noting perhaps the rising and falling of your belly and chest. Perhaps a movement of the back of your body against whatever surface you’re lying on. 
    3. Let go of any sense that you’re trying to make anything specific happen. We can’t force ourselves to relax any more than we can force ourselves to sleep. But using that sense of physical movement that your body makes with each breath as a place to lightly anchor your awareness and attention. 
    4. Your mind may stay busy for now, and that’s normal. With a sense of gentleness and care, each time you notice your mind caught up in an emotional state or some pattern of thinking, simply come back with that sense of gentleness. You can say: I am aware I’m breathing in and aware I am breathing out. 
    5. We’ll begin a guided body scan in which we’ll be paying attention to different parts of our body, both as a way to bring our mind back from its thinking and the places it wanders and also as an opportunity to relax our body physically. 
    6. Start by bringing your awareness to your feet. You might notice touch or temperature. If you’re covered by a blanket, you might notice the sensation of the blanket draped over your feet and. For the next few minutes, when your mind wanders, bring your awareness back to your feet and let go a little bit of any tension or tightness you notice in your feet. No need to do anything with them, no need to move them around. 
    7. Notice any sense that you’re getting wound up a little bit, that you are caught up in the need for sleep or wanting things to be different than they are. So make that sense of care and letting go part of this practice, too. You can’t force that away, but noticing it’s part of the experience now and returning again to the sensation of your feet wherever they’re lying right now. 
    8. Next, move your awareness from your feet up into your lower legs. Relax them if you notice anything tight or uncomfortable. Stay patient with yourself as best as you’re able. 
    9. Next, move attention into your knees and your upper legs. Notice where your thoughts go or where your awareness wanders. Come back as many times as you need. 
    10. Next, move your awareness through your pelvis and your buttocks. Up into your lower back. Noticing the pressure against the bed or wherever you’re lying. Maybe there’s a sense of movement with each breath. 
    11. If at any point, because of discomfort or anything else, you feel like you need to make a little physical adjustment, that’s normal and that’s okay too. Maybe settling and observing for a few breaths, and then with a sense of intention, make whatever adjustment you need to make next. 
    12. Now, move your awareness into your upper back—a place many of us hold a lot of tension and tightness. Respect that and pay attention to it, while also letting go and relaxing whatever you find available right now. Stay patient with your mind for staying busy and come back to your body as many times as you need. 
    13. Next, move your awareness to your belly. Note if you like the gentle rising and falling of your belly with each breath. Note any other physical sensations that might be happening now in this part of your body. Often in the belly, we also encounter some reflection of our emotional state. Note that and let go a little bit if you can—not forcing it away, but recognizing it and releasing a little bit if you’re able to do that right now. 
    14. Now, shift your awareness into your chest. Keep using that same perspective of observing patience. Note the movement as your body breathes. Note any reflection of your emotional state in this moment. And then without forcing anything, see if you can sustain that awareness and let go a little bit around it. Ease up if there’s a sense of tightness or tension there. 
    15. What if that becomes difficult? That’s okay. Simply come back to that physical movement of your body with each breath. 
    16. Now, move your awareness into your hands. Relax your hands. Ease all the muscles of your palms and the back of your hands and your fingers and let go. 
    17. When you’re ready, transition to your forearms. Then your upper arms and your shoulders with that same sense of awareness and letting go. Then your shoulders and relaxing your shoulders. Your neck and relaxing your neck. And then noticing your facial expression and the muscles of your face. And relaxing your facial expression as much as you’re able. And then the entirety of your head. 
    18. Now, expand your awareness for a few moments to the entirety of your body. Use your breath as an anchor, if that open awareness is too distracting. There’s nothing special to do right now, except as best as you’re able, noticing the state of your mind and returning to your body. 
    19. As we continue this practice with a sense of open awareness, it might be helpful to add a short mental phrase, such as I am aware I’m breathing in and aware I am breathing out. Allow your body and mind to settle into this space, not wrestling with thoughts or emotions, but perhaps engaging with them a little more gently, noticing them and coming back again to the breath as many times as you need. 
    20. Continue now, as long as you need, with this sense of body awareness and letting go, allowing things to be. There will be no ending bell. Simply let yourself drift now, into a healthy night’s sleep.



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  • Seven Strengths for an Uncertain World

    Seven Strengths for an Uncertain World

    I remember standing in my kitchen one morning, drawn to check my phone to find out what’s happening in the world before I’d even made my first cup of tea. A sad news story,  three urgent emails, and a text that seemed to be screaming for a response. I set the phone down on the counter, took a slow breath, and asked myself a question that has stayed with me: What kind of person do I need to be to live well in today’s world?

    That question isn’t abstract. It is, I believe, a key question of our time. Because the world isn’t going to slow down or untangle itself. And the uncertainty isn’t going to resolve neatly.

    The real work isn’t “out there,” just waiting for the right political leader or the right set of circumstances and then everything is fine. The real work begins inside each of us.

    So the real work isn’t “out there,” waiting for the right political leader or the right set of circumstances and then everything is fine. The real work begins inside each of us.

    Over many years of teaching mindfulness, in hospitals, boardrooms, community halls, and online, I’ve come to believe that there are a set of core inner strengths or qualities that help human beings not just cope with difficulty, but to grow and flourish from them.

    These aren’t personality traits you’re either born with or not. Think of them less like fixed features and more like seeds that grow into beautiful flowers. They just need regular watering. And they can grow. And when they do, everything changes. Not just for you, but for everyone around you. This inner garden is for all to enjoy and flourish within it.

    Strengths Aren’t Born. They’re Grown.

    Early in my mindfulness teaching ‘career’, I used to hear people say things like, “Oh, you’re just naturally calm” or “Some people are just more resilient.” I understood why they said it. Because when you’re in the thick of anxiety, inner peace can look like someone else’s birthright. But neuroscience, and thousands of years of contemplative tradition, tell a different story.

    The brain is neuroplastic. It changes with repeated experience. And you are the way your brain responds. Every time you pause before reacting, you’re literally reshaping neural pathways. Every time you choose gratitude over complaint, or compassion over judgment, you’re strengthening something real within you.

    The brain is neuroplastic. It changes with repeated experience. And you are the way your brain responds. Every time you pause before reacting, you’re literally reshaping neural pathways. Every time you choose gratitude over complaint, or compassion over judgment, you’re strengthening something real within you.

    The seven strengths I want to share with you aren’t ideals to aspire to from a distance. They’re capacities you can develop, starting today, starting with one minute if that’s all you have. Because watering seeds doesn’t have to take all day.

    The Seven Strengths: A Tour

    1. Compassion

    We often think of compassion as something we extend outward. To suffering strangers, to difficult relatives or to a fractured world. But the most important discovery in compassion research is that it has to begin closer to home. Self-compassion: treating yourself with the same warmth you’d offer a dear friend in trouble, isn’t selfish. It’s the foundation that makes caring for others sustainable. You cannot pour from an empty cup. When you’re stuck in a self-criticism loop, you don’t have the inner resources to meet others with kindness. Compassion, turned inward first, becomes the well the whole world drinks from.

    2. Flexibility, Growth, and Grit

    A willow tree doesn’t resist the storm. It bends and yet its roots hold. That image captures something essential about the strength of flexibility. Life will not cooperate with our plans. The pandemic reminded us of that. The question isn’t whether setbacks will come, but whether we can learn from them. A growth mindset, the understanding that our abilities and circumstances are not fixed, transforms even our worst moments into data points on the journey.

    3. Purpose, Contribution, and Harmony

    I once asked a group of executives what they wanted their legacy to be. The room went quiet in a way that surprised them. Most of us spend so much time living from task to task, that we rarely stop to ask what we’re actually building long term. Purpose is the compass that makes navigation possible. It doesn’t have to be grand. For many people, purpose lives in small, daily acts of contribution: being genuinely present for a child, creating something beautiful, alleviating someone’s pain. When you know why you’re here, the how becomes much less overwhelming.

    In a world brimming with bad news, choosing joy can feel almost irresponsible, like cheerfully whistling while the house is burning. But this misunderstands what joy actually is. Joy isn’t denial. It’s not turning away from suffering. It’s the capacity to remain open to beauty, connection, and warm-heartedness even while holding the weight of what’s hard.

    4. Happiness, Gratitude, and Joy

    In a world brimming with bad news, choosing joy can feel almost irresponsible, like cheerfully whistling while the house is burning. But this misunderstands what joy actually is. Joy isn’t denial. It’s not turning away from suffering. It’s the capacity to remain open to beauty, connection, and warm-heartedness even while holding the weight of what’s hard. Gratitude, its close companion, works like a muscle too. The more deliberately you notice what is good, the more naturally your nervous system orients toward it. Joy is not a luxury. It is fuel. Without it, even the most committed activist, caregiver, or teacher burns out.

    5. Wisdom and Mindfulness

    Mindfulness is sometimes framed as a stress-relief tool. A way to feel a bit calmer before your next meeting. And while it does that, quite reliably for some, it offers something much deeper: the capacity to see clearly. Most of our suffering comes not from circumstances themselves, but from the stories we layer on top of them. “This always happens to me.” “They don’t respect me.” “Things will never get better.” Mindfulness creates a tiny gap between stimulus and response, and in that gap lives wisdom. The chance to slow down for a moment and choose a meaningful action rather than automatically react in an unhealthy way.

    If you want to get started with your own mindfulness practice and have the support of exercises, guided meditations, and compassionate encouragement—you can sign up for my 31-Day Mindfulness Challenge anytime.

    6. Empowerment, Courage, and Resilience

    There is a particular kind of courage that has nothing to do with the lack of fear. It is the willingness to act consciously, even when fear is loudest. When the easy path and the right path diverge. Resilience is not the ability to never be knocked down. It is the hard-won knowledge that you can get back up. Every time we face difficulty and survive it, even messily, we build that knowledge. Empowerment follows: the growing trust that you have what it takes to meet what life brings you.

    7. Calm and Peace

    Calm or peace is not passivity. It’s certainly not indifference or the absence of feeling. Inner peace is the still centre of a spinning wheel. Everything can move around it, and yet the centre holds. When I’m calm, I listen better and I think more clearly. My calm creates space for others to be calmer. The research on co-regulation tells us that one grounded nervous system can literally soothe another. Calm is not just a personal joy, it is a gift to every person in your presence.

    Need a regular dose of support and encouragement? I’ve been sending out a weekly mindfulness newsletter for over a decade. Get mindfulness resources, meditations, stories, and tips—all for free.

    These Strengths Don’t Live Alone

    What I’ve noticed, both in my own practice and in working with thousands of students, is that these seven strengths form an ecosystem rather than a checklist. They are like instruments in an orchestra, each one distinct, but capable of something far richer in combination. Calm supports compassion; when you’re regulated, you can meet others’ pain without being overwhelmed by it. Compassion deepens purpose; caring about others naturally draws you toward contribution. Purpose fuels courage; when you know what matters, you find the willingness to act on it even when it’s hard. Gratitude feeds wisdom; a grateful mind is more open and less defended.

    You don’t need to develop all seven at once. In my experience, deepening any one of them creates a gentle pull toward the others. Start where you are. Start with what calls to you.

    TRY THIS: The One-Minute Strength Check-In

    You can do this anywhere – waiting for the coffee to brew, sitting in your car, or in the first quiet moment of your morning.

    1. Pause. Take one slow breath in through your nose, and let it out slowly through your mouth as if you’re blowing through a straw. Feel your feet on the floor.
    2. Now silently ask yourself: “Which strength do I most need right now?”
    3. Don’t overthink it. Notice what arises – perhaps it’s calm, perhaps it’s courage. Perhaps it’s a flicker of gratitude you haven’t allowed yourself to feel.
    4. Place one hand on your heart. Breathe. Say softly to yourself: “I am watering this seed within as best I can. It is enough to begin.”
    5. Take one more breath. Then continue with your day, a little more intentional than before.

    Inner Work Is World Work

    There is a misconception that inner work, watering those inner seeds, is somehow self-absorbed…a privileged retreat from the real problems of the world. I’ve heard this criticism, and I can understand it. But I’ve seen what happens when people try to change the world without doing any inner work: they burn out. Additionally, they can project their unprocessed anger onto allies. They can then replicate the same dynamics they’re trying to dismantle in the world.

    The person who has cultivated peace brings that calm into every relationship they engage in. The person who has done the work of self-compassion treats their colleagues with more humanity.

    The person who has cultivated peace brings that calm into every relationship they engage in. The person who has done the work of self-compassion treats their colleagues with more humanity. The self-compassion spills over into compassion for others. The person who has found their purpose acts with a consistency and groundedness that is, itself, a form of leadership. Inner work is not a detour from outer change. It is the prerequisite for it.

    This is the vision behind the Global Compassion Coalition. The understanding that a more compassionate and resilient world is built not through a single grand gesture, but through millions of ordinary human beings choosing, day by day, to develop the inner qualities that make genuine connection possible.

    Join Us: The Seven Strengths Global Event

    From May 13–19, 2026, I’ll be joining some of the most respected teachers alive – including Sharon Salzberg, Rick Hanson, Kristen Neff, Tami Simon, Mamphela Ramphele, and Melli O’Brien – for a free, seven-day online global event called The Seven Strengths.

    Each day, one teacher will focus on one strength: a short teaching and a guided meditation, designed to be genuinely accessible even in the middle of a busy life. This is not a passive summit you half-watch while scrolling. It’s a structured, daily practice, a challenge, in the best sense of the word.

    The event is hosted by Mindfulness.com in collaboration with Sounds True and DailyOM, and all proceeds support the Global Compassion Coalition’s work to build a more compassionate, resilient world. That means joining is both an act of personal growth and an act of collective generosity.

    On Day 7, I’ll be guiding the practice on Calm and Peace, the strength I believe underlies and supports all the others. I would love to meet you there.

    The world doesn’t need more anxious, exhausted people trying to hold everything together. It needs calmer, wiser, more compassionate human beings choosing to show up, day after day, from a place of genuine inner strength.



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  • How Slow Can You Go?

    How Slow Can You Go?

    Going slow has always been accompanied by an air of wisdom. “Adopt the pace of nature,” advised Ralph Waldo Emerson. “Her secret is patience.” A couple millennia and change before that, Lao Tzu said something similar: “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”

    Yet these days, paeans to slowness have taken on a slightly more urgent tone. “We are on a bus speeding faster and faster toward a cliff, and we celebrate every added mile per hour as progress,” wrote the French economist Timothée Parrique in Slow Down or Die, published last May. “It’s madness. Maximizing growth is like stepping on the accelerator with the absolute certainty of dying in a social and ecological collapse.”

    The Japanese philosopher and economist Kohei Saito covered similar territory in Slow Down, his 2024 degrowth manifesto. Our obsession with GDPs is contributing not only to our collective suffering but to our eventual demise. After all, economic growth might be seen as the societal manifestation of individual craving—we want, therefore we buy.

    “We live in a cult of terminal velocity,” wrote the psychotherapist and author Francis Weller in In the Absence of the Ordinary: Soul Work for Times of Uncertainty, a collection of essays. “A type of mania that consumes us with constant motion. Much is lost in this frenzied fidelity to speed.”

    In the age of AI, when the average person consumes more information in a day than someone in the 15th century would have in their entire lifetime, one can see why slowness feels essential. People are caught up in the rat race, leading stressful, overly connected lives. Yet it is one thing to slow down at a systemic level, and quite another to slow down as an individual.

    In the age of AI, when the average person consumes more information in a day than someone in the 15th century would have in their entire lifetime, one can see why slowness feels essential.

    Can mindfulness help us take our foot off the accelerator? And can a personal practice have a meaningful impact on the speed at which society moves?

    Doing Mode to Being Mode

    “Mindfulness practice is certainly a tangible way of slowing down,” says mindfulness scholar Andrew Olendzki. “If only for a brief session, one deliberately drops out of ‘doing’ mode to linger in ‘being’ mode.”

    Lingering in being mode has a tangible impact on our internal speedometer. “Mindfulness practice is a way of re-training oneself to slow down in every way, and the rate of breathing is the most accessible way of doing this,” says Olendzki.

    Indeed, research shows that long-term meditators display slower respiratory rates than non-meditators. Being able to slow down physiologically when one is operating at a higher register might bring a degree of deliberateness to “fast-paced” endeavors. It can help us embody the tortoise despite the prevalence of so many hares.

    Being able to slow down physiologically when one is operating at a higher register might bring a degree of deliberateness to “fast-paced” endeavors. It can help us embody the tortoise despite the prevalence of so many hares.

    When this deliberateness pervades the body, it can extend to the mind, providing a countercurrent to the speed at which modern life moves. It can teach us not just to slow down during common contemplative practices, like meditation or journaling or yoga, but to access a lower gear in the midst of the everyday, which is when we most feel the pressure to maintain forward momentum.

    “For most people today, the speed comes from external engagements: busy schedules, phones set to notify every incoming message, and the basic tendency to ‘do a lot’ in the modern lifestyle,” says Olendzki. “I think the pace at which one lives one’s life is a matter of habit, and like all habits is learned. Much in our society encourages moving fast, and I like to think we still have some choice in how much we participate in this.”

    Unlearning Our Addiction to Speed

    In some respects, then, slowing down involves a type of unlearning. We are so used to moving at the speed of information that we don’t realize that we don’t have to respond to every notification that vibrates in our pockets. The anthropologist Thomas Hylland Eriksen distinguished between “fast time”—writing an email or completing a report, and “slow time”—leisure activities like creating art or sitting still. He noted that when fast time and slow time meet—deadline pressure versus writing poetry—fast time always wins. But when we notice this imbalance we can choose to prioritize slow time.

    Mindfulness might support our efforts to slow down insofar as it reorients us toward the rhythm of the breath, the pace of nature, and the workability of the mind. 

    We may need support in making this choice. Perhaps this is why the past couple of years have seen books about Slow Birding, Slow Productivity, Slow Pleasure, and Slow Seasons—a guide to reconnecting with nature. In an age of abundance those of us in privileged positions are not thirsty for more but for less.

    In this sense, Lao Tzu, Emerson, and Weller may be on to something when they advise us to take a cue from natural rhythms. In his book Weller recalled his mentor, Clarke Berry, placing his hand on a rock and indicating that he operates at geologic speed:

    Geologic speed—the rhythm of eons, of millennia—is etched deep in our bones. When we grant ourselves the time and pace of stone, we come into a deep memory of who we are, where we belong and what is sacred. We remember the values associated with this ancient cadence, among them patience, restraint, and reciprocity.

    Mindfulness might support our efforts to slow down insofar as it reorients us toward the rhythm of the breath, the pace of nature, and the workability of the mind. Whether or not that can address the political and economic issues that plague society is questionable, but individuals that can achieve respite may help shape systems that prioritize it. After all, mindfulness isn’t about getting anywhere, or getting ahead, or even getting it.

    “Be as mindful as you can of the pace you inhabit in any given day,” wrote Weller. “Try to notice what happens when you slow down and enter the stream of connection with the daylight, the wind, the sounds of the city, birdsong, cricket, or silence.”

    Life may be terminal, but our velocity doesn’t have to be.



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  • A Meditation to (Gently) Interrupt Habitual Reactions

    A Meditation to (Gently) Interrupt Habitual Reactions

    If you find you often react without thinking, explore this practice to respond with greater awareness.

    Daily life is full of irritations: moments of inconvenience, situations where we don’t get what we were hoping for, delays, disappointments, prickly interactions that can leave us confused and exasperated.

    If we’re honest, we can probably admit that sometimes our reactions in those moments tend to be reflexive rather than intentional. We feel our anger or annoyance rise, and we react almost as though we’re reading a script.

    Can we explore these habitual reactions in a way that gives us enough space to respond differently? In today’s practice, teacher Patricia Rockman guides us through a meditation to help us meet whatever is arising, so that we have more agency when the next moment arises.

    This meditation is about working with habits. In particular, our habitual reactions to difficult situations that commonly arise. These could be anger at being stuck in traffic, sadness at not getting what you want, or frustration when dealing with companies that keep you on hold for what feels like eternity. Whatever it may be, whether it is something significant or something that might seem mundane, mindfulness practices can help us deal with our habitual reactivity in more skillful ways.

    A Meditation to (Gently) Interrupt Habitual Reactions

    Read and practice the guided meditation script below, pausing after each paragraph. Or listen to the audio practice.

    1. Get into a comfortable posture, one that is familiar to you and that you use when engaging in a practice, and bring attention to your body. If you are sitting, bring attention to your points of contact; where your sitting bones are on your chair or cushion, or where your feet or legs are in contact with the surface.
    2. Bring attention to where your hands are in relation to your body, whether they are resting on your thighs or folded in your lap. Bring attention to your chest rising, your chin in line with your navel, and your tongue at rest behind your teeth. If you are choosing to lie down for this practice, it is preferable for you to lie on your back.
    3. Bring attention to your body as it makes contact with the mat, floor, or bed. Note your points of contact, and also note where your body is not in contact. Whatever your position, allow the surface that you are lying or sitting on to take on the work of holding you up. Bring attention to the front body and the back body, and everything in between. 
    4. Now shift your attention to the sensations of breathing where they are most readily available, whether at the nostril, the chest, or the abdomen. Really hone in on the sensations of the breath as they make themselves known to you, picking one place and resting your attention there.
    5. Attend to the in-breath and the out-breath. Attend to the movement of the body as the air moves in and out. Attend to the nostrils; you may be noticing the coolness of the air as it goes in, and the warmth as it moves out. Attend to the breath or the chest, focusing on the expansion of the body with the in-breath, and the deflation of the body as the breath leaves. 
    6. Allow the body to settle. Allow the breath to settle. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. Each breath is a new breath. Each breath is a receiving and a releasing. 
    7. You will notice from time to time that your attention will move into thinking, into the future, past, planning, anxiety, or daydreaming. Your task is simply to notice this habitual tendency of mind, and gently return to your breath over and over again, without judgment and without a story. There is no right or wrong here, there is simply attending to your breath, noting when your attention moves, and bringing it back again.
    8. Notice when the breath is low, and when the breath is short. Notice when it is shallow, and when it is deep. Mindfulness is about coming to know our experience in its entirety, whether wanted or unwanted, and in this case it is coming to know the experience of breathing.
    9. Breathe out and let go of this primary focus on the breath, and allow it to be present but in the background. On an in-breath, establish attention in your entire body. Bring an open receptivity to experience and to sensations in the body as they come and go. Note their arrival, persistence, or passing, and explore these. Bring a friendly interest and curiosity to this investigation of the sensorial nature of experience, whatever it is. 
    10. Notice how your body feels. There may be ease, tension, relaxation, discomfort, or pain in a part of your body. Whatever it is, when a sensation calls out for attention, investigate it and explore its depth and various qualities. Whether you lean into it or lean away, whether it is pleasant, unpleasant, or even neutral, without changing anything in this moment, simply attend to what is arising in your body as it shows. 
    11. Attend to what is arising as best as you can and without judging it, but notice judgment or aversion if they do arise. As best as you can, explore the sensation as it is, without judgment.  
    12. Investigate sensations as they arise. Once you are finished investigating one sensation, wait for another to arise and investigate that one. Remember that a sensation may be internal or external. Perhaps sounds are making themselves known as they come and go. Get to know your bodily sensations, in your body, in this moment. 
    13. Note when your attention moves into thinking, or you feel an impulse to act or shift position. Acknowledge that this is what is here right now. Turn your attention back to your body, over and over again. Explore one sensation, let go of it, and then bring your attention into another as it enters your awareness. 
    14. Now, if you want to, bring to mind a manageable stressful situation. Maybe it’s a recent time when you were irritated, sad, confused, or anxious. Perhaps it was a situation in a relationship or at work. Bringing to mind this situation, remember that if what comes up is at all overwhelming for you, feel free at any time to turn your attention back to breathing with your body.
    15. If your eyes are closed, open them. Consider a stressor and note what arises immediately. It could be a bodily sensation, a thought, or an emotion. Perhaps there is a behavior or an impulse to act. Start to get to know your stress reactivity signatures.
    16. If there are thoughts, observe them as best as you can. If there are emotions, try naming them, such as “sadness”, or “anxiety”. Remember that labeling emotions helps to settle them and make them more manageable. Labeling emotions creates an opportunity to give you a choice about what happens next. 
    17. If there are body sensations, make a note of these, and actually turn your attention to them. Explore them even if they’re unwanted. Get to know them. Stay with them for as long as they are holding your attention. Note whether they increase, persist, or fade. Recognize that this is a moment of stress, and that it’s ok; it’s already here. Bring a compassionate and kind holding to this experience. Be with it as it is, even though it may be unwanted. Explore your body and the sensations for as long as they’re here. 
    18. Now, shift your attention back to the sensations of breathing, perhaps in your belly. If there are any remaining sensations, hold attention at the same time. Engaging in the option, should you choose, to expand into these on the in-breath, softening, expanding, and releasing on the out-breath, letting go, or allowing and letting be, if this is possible. If this is not necessary, then simply bring attention to the belly and the rising and falling of the breath that comes and goes. 
    19. Expand around the breath to the entire body once again, to any and all sensations. Be with the body, with your breathing in the background and sensations in the foreground, from head to toe. Bringing a feeling of spaciousness to your experience; be open and receptive, with an open front and strong back. 
    20. When you’re ready, let go of this practice, and if possible bring a more expanded and spacious awareness to your next moments.
    21. Now, if you feel inclined, take a paper and pen and write down any words, thoughts, emotions, bodily sensations, and impulses to act that came to mind. Write down what came up for you in that practice when you introduced the stressor. Name the emotions, and listing them. What bodily sensations and what impulses to act or behaviors, if any, went through your mind? These components of experience may show themselves in a variety of ways, moving from thoughts, to emotions, to bodily sensations, to behaviors, and back to emotions and thoughts, and that’s OK. Record these as they show up to you.
    22. Once you’ve finished, take a moment to look at what you’ve written and think about where in your habitual reaction you might intervene with mindfulness. How might you bring awareness to these habitual reactions when they arrive, to provide more choice if this is needed, or to introduce other options about how to respond? How might you stop yourself, to be able to take a step back and gain perspective?

    Bring Mindful Attention to Habitual Reactions

    Perhaps make a commitment to yourself about how you might practice with this in some small way when difficulty arises. Perhaps once a week or once a day, simply bring mindful attention to an experience, or bring the breath your mind when difficulty shows, or shift an attitude, or engage in a different behavior.

    Whatever you may do, remember that awareness is always a moment away, and mindfulness is portable it can be with us wherever we are, in any moment, at any time.

    Shift Your Mind From Crisis Mode to Calm 

    Unchecked stress may lead to overwhelm, unhelpful coping, and burnout. When you learn to recognize the warning signs, you can take wise action to manage your stress—with a little kind attention, and a lot of self-compassion. Read More 

    • Patricia Rockman
    • February 9, 2023



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  • Clothing Designer Eileen Fisher Models Mindfulness

    Clothing Designer Eileen Fisher Models Mindfulness

    In honor of the power of mindful women leaders, a look back at our 2013 cover story on clothing designer Eileen Fisher. 

    I’ve known for some time that Eileen Fisher is a person who brings strong values to her business ventures, but she really caught our attention in 2012 during Hurricane Sandy, when her company’s headquarters in Irvington, New York, were flooded, putting a serious crimp in their year-end business shipments.

    Despite having to haul a dozen dumpster-loads of damaged goods out of the offices and the nearby Lab Store, to the tune of $1.5 million, Eileen said at the time, “It was just stuff.”

    You can only imagine the emotions that might arise in a chief executive if they saw their sewage-soaked products floating by. Eileen and her staff did not linger there. They mobilized quickly—organizing carpools, impromptu meeting spaces, and arranging interest-free loans for staff needing cash during the crisis. That kind of resilience and caring told us this was a company with a human face.

    Mindful Leadership Matters

    A year after Sandy, I was at the (partially) restored Eileen Fisher HQ, learning about the kind of care the company takes with its clothing: from helping a Chinese silk dyer use fewer chemicals and less water, to launching a recycled clothing program, where customers return garments they no longer use, with the proceeds going to an initiative that helps improve the lives of woman and girls. There is a yoga/meditation room. In another room, young women are cutting pictures out of magazines and learning about the stories they are told about themselves through the media—an exercise in the Eileen Fisher Leadership Institute.

    In an industry where fleeting trends and heavily marked-up products manufactured in overseas sweatshops are the norm, Eileen Fisher is paying attention to the life cycle of a garment, from cradle to grave, as well as the future of the people who wear them and the people who create them.



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  • Inner Calm: The Key is Letting Go

    Inner Calm: The Key is Letting Go

    We often hear about inner calm, but it can be so much more than a fleeting moment of peace after yoga or the perfect massage. Inner calm is actually our ability to let go of attachments and reactions to life’s events, resulting in ease and clarity.

    As a mindfulness skill, inner calm is the ability to let go of attachments and reactivity based on an understanding of impermanence—the changing nature of our thoughts, emotions, and desires. When we find ourselves rushing and reacting, we can remind ourselves, This too shall pass. The purpose is not to negate what we’re feeling but to put brakes on accelerated feelings. Once we return to our inner stillness, we can look at the source of our reactivity, intimately seeing its changing nature: This right here is what frees us.

    Once we return to our inner stillness, we can look at the source of our reactivity, intimately seeing its changing nature: This right here is what frees us.

    As a practice, inner calm is the art of stopping, looking and letting go for purposes of healing and clarity. It involves physical composure and mental tranquility. It can be seen as the ultimate balm for your soul—like a cool breeze on a hot day. Inner calm brings ease to body and mind alike. In the body, composure is experienced in the muscles and as an overall feeling of ease. In the mind, inner calm creates the space to hold everything without attachment and resistance. Conversely, the absence of inner calm may show up as restlessness in the body and agitation or reactivity in the mind.

    Seeking inner calm can often leave us wanting more, but it’s ironic that true inner calm is achieved when we let go of our desires, even the desire for inner calm itself—a catch-22 if there ever was one. This paradox becomes evident when we consider the case of a client dealing with anxiety who turned to meditation as a way to ease his mind. Surprisingly, he found himself even more anxious post-meditation. He had hoped that meditation would improve his sleep, but he was left frustrated when he observed his restlessness during a body scan meditation, which only seemed to worsen his sleep problems.

    The moral here? To find peace, he had to let go first of his expectations around finding peace. In order to let go, he learned to see the three hindrances to his achieving mindfulness: running in circles (a restless mind), pulling (striving to sleep), and pushing (frustrated with his restlessness). With practice, he learned to accept his restless mind, which softened the striving and frustration, and he was able to find ease, even when he couldn’t sleep, which ultimately allowed him to sleep.

    Letting go of attachments to certain outcomes doesn’t, however, mean that we’re suppressing or evading challenging situations. Instead, this release occurs organically when we comprehend that emotions arise and dissolve—all within ninety seconds.

    The Ninety-Second Rule

    Inner calm is not about suppressing, denying, or avoiding our emotions. When we don’t give in to the urge to react, we’re cultivating the ability to stay with unpleasantness (knowing that emotions are physiological responses in the body that will arise and dissolve). Just as happiness triggered by external events doesn’t last, negative emotions also don’t last. Have you heard of the ninety-second rule? Neuroscientist Jill Bolte Taylor reveals in her book My Stroke of Insight: A Brain Scientist’s Personal Journey that all emotions have a beginning, middle, and end—all within ninety seconds from when they first arise.

    The reason we continue to experience negative emotions, sometimes for days, weeks, and even years, is that we continue to fuel these feelings with our narratives. Instead, if we stop and let the emotion move through our body, we’ll create space in our minds to better understand what they are trying to tell us. Rather than suppressing or using positive thinking to bypass our experience, we can form an alliance with our feelings. By doing this, we can uncover how they’re trying to protect us, address our unmet needs, or draw our attention to new information in the environment.

    The ninety-second rule is a helpful reminder to ride the waves of our emotions, but emotions can sometimes be so powerful that they hijack our rational thought processes. It’s helpful in these situations to remember where those emotions come from—deep in the past, when we were hunter-gatherers facing real tigers!

    How Inner Calm Supports Resilience

    So much of our lives are marked by perceived threats to our identity, career, or relationships. Our primal reactions—fight-flight-freeze—can be unhelpful when it comes to navigating these everyday psychological and social stressors. What’s needed to resolve problems common to the modern world is clarity and creativity, but our reaction is the opposite—to fight, flee, or freeze. This evolutionary response to any threat is automatic and unconscious.

    What’s needed to resolve problems common to the modern world is clarity and creativity, but our reaction is the opposite—to fight, flee, or freeze.

    When our emotions are triggered such that we can’t think or see clearly, it’s called an “amygdala hijack”—a term popularized by emotional intelligence expert Daniel Goleman. The amygdala is the emotional center of the brain. One of its functions is to scan the environment for threats and prepare the body for an emergency response. When it perceives a threat, such as a tiger lurking in the bushes, it sends an immediate signal to release stress hormones—adrenaline and cortisol—that ramp up an emergency response. Blood stops flowing to the organs and instead floods into the limbs to prepare us for fight or flight. Meanwhile, the prefrontal cortex (which is responsible for thinking and executive decision-making) shuts down because there is no time to think and analyze when we’re facing what the brain perceives as a life-threatening situation.

    During an amygdala hijack, it is said that our IQ temporarily drops by ten to fifteen points. Maybe this explains that feeling after we’ve reacted to a verbal trigger: What was I thinking when I said that? That’s exactly the point. We stop thinking rationally. It also compromises memory, which is why we can’t remember a single good thing about a person with whom we have a conflict or why we can’t find our keys in the middle of a panic attack. Being in a continuous state of fight or flight from modern threats also compromises the integrity of other systems, like immunity and digestion.

    Cultivating inner calm is an important step in avoiding the amygdala hijack so we can think clearly even in highly charged situations. Using practices to promote inner calm—like breath awareness—helps slow our escalating emotions and allows the parasympathetic nervous system to kick back in so we can once again think clearly. Another activity that nudges the prefrontal cortex to start thinking again is “noting” or “labeling.” The act of noting or labeling our emotions gets the prefrontal cortex to regain healthy communication with the amygdala and avoids the hijack. Inner calm offers opportunities to learn and improve or for us to provide a deeper understanding of the “what” and the “why” behind our actions. We can replace tension and misunderstanding with harmony and understanding. Inner calm is key for resilience in relationships and life in general.

    Where Are You on the Inner Calm Continuum?

    You can strengthen your ability for inner calm, regardless of your circumstances. First, pay attention to when you’re calm and when you’re not. Next, notice the causes and conditions that promote calm and what stops you from being calm. By cultivating a habit of calming the mind and body, you’ll develop the ability to access this place more quickly and easily.

    Daily Practice: One-Minute Rest

    Rested, we care again for the right things and
    the right people in the right way.
    —David Whyte

    Take time in your day, several times a day, if possible, to empty your cup and make space for what matters. You can do this very quickly by checking in with your body.

    1. Any tension or tightness in the body is a clue that you’re holding on to something that needs your loving attention. You can’t let go without knowing what it is you’re trying to let go. Just turning your attention to places you’re holding tension can help you uncover the emotions and thoughts associated with that tension.
    2. Once you can see the cause of your tension, you can figure out the solution. It’s also clarifying to realign with your intentions as you’re emptying your cup—what is it you’re clearing the space for?
    3. Return. Take a one-minute rest and return to your body. Rub the palms of your hand and place them on your eyes, allowing them to rest. Move your hands to your jawline, neck, shoulders, chest, or wherever feels good in your body.
    4. Listen. Listen within. What can you let go of at this moment to make room for what matters?
    5. Begin. Begin your activities with a relaxed body and mind aligned with what matters.

    Try practicing and playing with this reminder with your family, with team members, and in your community before beginning a meeting or activity together.

    Excerpted from the book Return to Mindfulness: Disrupting Default Habits for Personal Fulfillment, Effective Leadership, and Global Impact by Shalini Bahl Milne. Copyright © 2024 Shalini Bahl Milne. Republished with permission from the author. Return to Mindfulness will be available on Amazon on January 18, 2024.



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  • Self-Compassion for Nervous System Reset

    Self-Compassion for Nervous System Reset

    If you find yourself stuck in a stress cycle, try this gentle practice to pause, calm your nervous system, and reset.

    It’s not always an instinctual go-to for us, but self-compassion is one of the most powerful forms of healing and restoration for our mental and physical well-being. 

    In this meditation, mindfulness teacher Shamash Alidina offers three ways to show compassion for yourself when you’re stressed and need a reset. 

    Shamash Alidina has been practising mindfulness since 1998 and runs his own successful training organisation. He is the author of Mindfulness For Dummies and most recently, The Mindful Way Through Stress. He frequently pops up in newspapers, magazines and on radio shows. Based in London, he runs online trainings and speaks at conferences all over the world. He’s been teaching mindfulness full-time since 2010.

    Self-Compassion for Nervous System Reset

    Read and practice the guided meditation script below, pausing after each paragraph. Or listen to the audio practice.

    1. Let’s take these 12 minutes for a nervous system reset—to step out the doing mode and into the being mode. Start by finding a posture that feels like a hug for your body, whether you’re sitting or lying down. See if you can be one or two percent more comfortable. Maybe that means a cushion behind your back or unclenching your jaw just a fraction.
    2. Now let’s take a deep slow breath in. And as you exhale, imagine you’re letting go of the days to-do list. Just let it drop to the floor for now. It’ll still be there later, if you really want it, but for now, you’re off duty.
    3. What is the state of your nervous system? Is it buzzing? Is it tight? See if you can greet it with a bit of curiosity rather than judgment. Instead of saying, I shouldn’t feel stressed, try saying Oh, that’s interesting. Stress is visiting me right now. That’s okay. It’ll pass in time.
    4. Now let’s bring some kindness to the physical body. Our nervous systems often get stuck in high alert because they’re trying to protect us. Let’s send a signal that it’s safe to rest.
    5. Begin by bringing awareness to your lower abdomen. Invite it to soften. So as you breathe in, it gently expand. And as you breathe out, it gently contracts. If it feels okay with you, placing a hand over your heart. Or if you prefer, cradling one hand in the other. Feel the warmth and the gentle pressure. This isn’t just a gesture, it actually releases oxytocin. The body’s natural soothing chemical.
    6. As you gently bring awareness to your breath, there’s no need to breathe “perfectly.” Just feel the breath moving in and out, like the tide of the ocean. Each inhale is a gift of energy. And each exhale is an opportunity to release.
    7. You could say, breathing in, I know that I’m breathing in. Breathing out, I gently smile to my nervous system. When we’re overwhelmed, we tend to isolate.
    8. Let’s practice the three steps of self-compassion together. Step 1: Mindfulness. Acknowledge any struggle that you’re going through right now. Silently say to yourself, This is a moment of suffering or this is really tough right now. You’re not trying to minimize it. You’re validating your own experience.
    9. Step 2: Common humanity. Remind yourself that you aren’t alone. Thousands of people will feel exactly like this, right now. This buzzing feeling or heaviness feeling is part of being human. You’re part of the big, messy, beautiful club. The Club of Humanity.
    10. Now Step 3: Self-kindness. Ask yourself the magic question. How can I be kind to myself right now? Maybe you need to hear the words, It’s going to be okay. You’re doing the best you can. Say these words to yourself, with the warmth you’d use for a dear friend. Or perhaps to a little puppy that’s struggling.
    11. Now, just sit in this stillness for a moment for a bit. If your mind wonders, which it will, because that’s what minds do, just gently, playfully invite it back. Imagine a golden light of kindness radiating from your heart, filling up your chest, your limbs. And there’s space around you, creating a buffer zone of peace. The nervous system is gently recalibrating. Shifting from fight or flight to rest and digest and restore. You don’t have to earn this rest. You deserve it simply because you exist.
    12. When you’re ready, as we gradually come to the end of this short journey, give your fingers and toes a little wiggle. Try to carry this kindness muscle with you into the rest of your day. Things get hectic later, remember you can always come back to that soft lower abdomen or that gentle hand on your heart. Thank yourself for taking this time. It’s a radical act of kindness to stop and breathe. When you’re ready, slowly open your eyes. Do a good stretch. And perhaps give yourself a little smile.



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  • Rethinking Equanimity: Margaret Cullen on Equanimity and Quiet Strength

    Rethinking Equanimity: Margaret Cullen on Equanimity and Quiet Strength

    Equanimity is often discussed in relation to mindfulness, yet it extends beyond formal practice and into the ways we meet everyday life.

    In this conversation, Margaret Cullen reflects on the ideas behind her book Quiet Strength and the five-year journey of study, practice, and dialogue that shaped it.

    Angela Stubbs: Quiet Strength has been in the works for how many years?

    Margaret Cullen: I guess it’s five now. Five years.

    Angela Stubbs: Take us back five years. Set the stage. What was going on in your life when the idea for this book began to settle in?

    Margaret Cullen: Oh, thank you for asking. I haven’t been asked that before. I did talk about it a little in the book’s prologue. I had begun teaching workshops on equanimity close to 10 years before I started writing the book, and about five years ago an editor at New Harbinger reached out to me to write a second book. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do that.

    But then the idea came to me: a book about equanimity could be really interesting and useful. There were already so many books on mindfulness and quite a number on compassion. Although I had been teaching and writing about both for years, I wasn’t sure I had anything to add to that literature. Very little had been shared on equanimity. That was part of why I got interested in teaching it in the first place. It wasn’t addressed much in either the Buddhist circles I’d been practicing in for decades or in the mainstream mindfulness world.  

    It was time for a deep dive into this quiet virtue that’s been hiding in plain sight for 2,600 years.

    I got excited and went back to New Harbinger, and they said no. They wanted a workbook. I didn’t want to write a workbook. It wasn’t time for a workbook. It was time for a deep dive into this quiet virtue that’s been hiding in plain sight for 2,600 years.

    Angela Stubbs: I really love this sense of inner knowing you had, declining the workbook and following something deeper. It feels like an intuitive process. Can you talk about that, what that felt like?

    Margaret Cullen: I found myself led by the book, which was a fascinating and surprising process. Very early on, the book had its own ideas. I discovered that I was following the book’s lead. The book said, “No, not a workbook”, “No, not New Harbinger”, “No, this is what I want to be.” By following the book’s lead, it became something much bigger, deeper, and richer than I could have imagined on my own.

    That was quite remarkable. It led me to an agent, a big publishing house, and an editor who had a beautiful vision for the book. I felt like the book led, and I was always half a beat behind it.

    Angela Stubbs: As the book began to take shape, you were also wrestling with the lineage and doctrinal differences around equanimity and mindfulness. How did those conversations, including your exchange with Sharon Salzberg, influence the direction the book ultimately took?

    Margaret Cullen: Originally, I planned to write a chapter exploring the doctrinal relationship between mindfulness and equanimity. I’ve been tracking that debate for more than twenty years, beginning when I was co-teaching with Alan Wallace, who defined mindfulness quite narrowly as sati, simply as remembering to return to the present moment.

    But at a certain point, I realized the scholarship wasn’t helping illuminate lived experience. So I tried to simplify the question.

    In the insight tradition, mindfulness includes an attitudinal quality. It isn’t just returning to the present moment. It’s returning in a particular way, with non-judgment, spaciousness, allowing, and non-reactivity. That quality is what we call equanimity.

    In one conversation, I asked Sharon Salzberg to imagine a Venn diagram: one circle mindfulness, one circle equanimity. How much do they overlap? Her answer was immediate. Completely.

    I remember thinking, Really? Completely? We don’t tend to use the terms interchangeably. Yet many Western Vipassana teachers would say that without equanimity, it isn’t truly mindfulness.

    In the insight tradition, mindfulness includes an attitudinal quality. It isn’t just returning to the present moment. It’s returning in a particular way, with non-judgment, spaciousness, allowing, and non-reactivity. That quality is what we call equanimity.

    Angela Stubbs: Is equanimity used in traditions apart from Buddhism and mindfulness? You spoke with Tom Block about Judaism and Sufism. Are those traditions using equanimity in the same way?

    Margaret Cullen: There are differences, of course, but there are also striking similarities. Equanimity appears in many traditions beyond Buddhism. We find it in Judaism, in Sufism, and in Stoicism, often expressed through a similar concern: how we relate to life’s changing conditions.

    In Buddhism, this has the poetic name of the “worldly winds”: pleasure and pain, praise and blame, gain and loss, fame and disrepute. Other traditions articulate the same insight in their own language, but the essential question is the same: How do we meet the constantly shifting winds of fortune?

    What surprised me was how consistently this thread runs through different traditions. If you’re coming to this with fresh eyes and know nothing about equanimity, you might be surprised to discover that it’s almost everywhere, even in some of the least expected places.

    Angela Stubbs: You’ve said equanimity found you when you really needed it. Can you share what was unfolding then, and how equanimity began to function as a teacher for you?

    Margaret Cullen: There have been several times when equanimity has appeared as a teacher for me, but the first was on a retreat with Sharon Salzberg. We had done basic mindfulness and lovingkindness practice, and then spent a week on equanimity.

    In the Vipassana tradition, equanimity is often cultivated through reflecting on certain phrases. One of them invites you to imagine someone you love who is suffering and reflect: their happiness and unhappiness are the result of their thoughts, actions, and circumstances, not your wishes for them. And even so, you continue to wish them well.

    That was a complete revelation to me.

    I worked with those phrases in both sitting and walking practice. One morning after breakfast, I was walking in the desert in Southern California, during that exquisite, fleeting springtime in Joshua Tree. I wasn’t formally meditating, but the phrases had taken on a life of their own.

    I thought of my mother, and the phrase arose: I am not responsible for her happiness. And not only that, I could still love her and wish her well. It wasn’t a binary choice between taking responsibility for her happiness and being a bad daughter.

    My mother struggled with depression and other mental health issues. As long as I could remember, it had felt like my job to make her happy. It was an impossible task, and by my twenties, I had become more and more depressed myself because I was failing at it.

    In that moment, seeing clearly that, oh my goodness, I can’t control her happiness, was incredibly liberating. It sounds obvious now. But at the time, it was a revelation. And, beyond that, it is neither disloyal nor unloving to let go of this futile effort.

    We come to believe that loving someone means managing their emotional state…Equanimity is love without attachment: to outcomes, to roles, to what I need from you, to how I need you to be, even to needing you to be happy.

    Angela Stubbs: Many of us feel responsible for the happiness of people we love, especially within family. How does equanimity shift that dynamic?

    Margaret Cullen: Women, of course, have been inculcated to be caregivers in roles as mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters. Those stereotypical roles, which hopefully my daughter’s generation, maybe your generation, Angela, is breaking out of, have given us distorted pictures of what it means to love.

    In my mother’s case, and often with our children, we take on responsibility for their happiness. We come to believe that loving someone means managing their emotional state.

    But Buddhism is fundamentally a path of connecting with reality. There’s no safer ground to stand on than reality. And the reality is that I am not responsible for your happiness.

    These equanimity phrases expose how easily attachment masquerades as love. In Buddhism, attachment is considered the near enemy of lovingkindness. Without careful attention, we conflate the two. We accuse others of not being loving when they’re not expressing attachment, and we feel guilty ourselves when what we’re feeling is attachment, not love.

    Angela Stubbs: Can you unpack that a bit more?

    Margaret Cullen: Equanimity is one of the Four Immeasurables in Buddhism, along with lovingkindness, compassion, and sympathetic joy. They’re all aspects of love. So equanimity is love without attachment: to outcomes, to roles, to what I need from you, to how I need you to be, even to needing you to be happy.

    It acknowledges your complete sovereignty over your own life. Even that language can be misleading, because I don’t grant or withhold your freedom. I never had that control in the first place. The belief that I do isn’t aligned with reality.

    That’s where our ideas about love get tangled. We confuse attachment with care.

    The author with her forthcoming book, out March 10, 2026.

    Angela Stubbs: In the world we’re living in now, where there’s always something to care about, how do you work with equanimity as a tool in difficult times?

    Margaret Cullen: Having just written a book about it and being interviewed about it, I have unique pressures on myself, and from my friends and family, to be equanimous. The good news is we can turn that into a joke. Humor is actually a great doorway into equanimity.

    I’m reaching for it a lot these days. There are also a few cognitive hacks that I use very frequently. They’re related to the three characteristics in Buddhism that are very close to my heart and central to my practice.

    Angela Stubbs: Tell us about the hacks.

    Margaret Cullen: First, I ask: Is this situation as personal as I’m making it? As meditators, we taste non-self, the experience of being connected to all things. And yet we walk around in our separate, contracted egos. It’s a reminder that there’s another way of relating to experience.

    Second, impermanence. If I’m caught in reactivity, in a moment of suffering or even joy, I remind myself that things change. I loosen my grip on attachment or aversion. That’s reality. That’s the reality I want to align myself with. Things are usually less personal and less permanent than they seem.

    And third, I like this question from Byron Katie: Is it really true?

    Given the current political situation, it can feel like the end of the world. We say the world is on fire. It can feel literally true. But if I step back and ask, is it actually on fire, the answer is no. That’s an expression. And that expression amplifies fear, outrage, and anxiety, and pulls us out of equanimity.

    Angela Stubbs: People often misunderstand equanimity. How do you describe what equanimity is not?

    Margaret Cullen: Equanimity is definitely not indifference. It’s not apathy. It’s not passivity. Those are the near enemies of equanimity.

    Equanimity is not withdrawal.

    I think for a lot of people who care deeply about the world, even if they understand this intellectually, emotionally, it still feels like a withdrawal. I have friends who are longtime practitioners who are afraid of equanimity. They think the world is in so much trouble that equanimity somehow forecloses their opportunity to be activists and engage with the world’s problems. That’s a very important misunderstanding. It’s deep and pernicious. Equanimity is not withdrawal.

    This is part of the beauty and paradox at the heart of equanimity. It’s caring perhaps even more deeply, not less, but draining that love of melodrama.

    This is part of the beauty and paradox at the heart of equanimity. It’s caring perhaps even more deeply, not less, but draining that love of melodrama. It’s loving without attachment. We care just as much, perhaps even more, about this beautiful planet and all the people and species who are thriving and suffering upon it, but without the melodrama and the outrage. That frees up our energy to be as effective as possible in whatever way we engage.

    Angela Stubbs: Earlier, we talked about the overlap between mindfulness and equanimity. If mindfulness is awareness, where does equanimity fit? You’ve described it as a kind of balance. What does that mean?

    Margaret Cullen: The balance we’re talking about is dynamic. It’s not static. We’re not aiming for some frozen state. It’s more like walking. With every step we lose our balance and regain it.

    Equanimity is the capacity to recover more quickly, to create space around our experience when we’re knocked off center. It’s not about being chill or detached. That becomes a near enemy. It’s about flexibility. It’s about resilience.

    Angela Stubbs: The book is titled Quiet Strength: Find Peace, Feel Alive, Love Boundlessly. It wasn’t always called that. How did the title and subtitle evolve?

    Margaret Cullen: I originally wanted to call the book Equanimity: The Quiet Virtue. If it had stayed small and focused only on Buddhism, that might have worked. But once the vision grew, that title no longer worked for my agent or publisher.

    They first suggested Quiet Power, which I liked. Equanimity is quiet but incredibly powerful. In martial arts, power comes from fluidity and balance, not brute strength. But politically, “power” felt like a tainted word. So we landed on Strength.

    The subtitle, Find Peace, Feel Alive, Love Boundlessly, is not language I would normally use. I have an aversion to telling people what to do. My language as a teacher is more invitational and provisional. This is declarative. I joked that I felt like a circus barker for equanimity.

    But the book has a wider vision than my own. I’m one voice among many contributing to what it’s meant to do in the world.

    Angela Stubbs: Is there anything in the book that people haven’t asked you about yet?

    Margaret Cullen: Surprisingly, I’ve been asked very little about the neuroscience. No one has asked about the time I went to a lab in Arizona and had transcranial stimulation applied to my brain to supposedly engender equanimity.

    Neuroscience labs that have studied mindfulness are now adding tools like transcranial stimulation and sophisticated fMRI mapping to reverse-engineer advanced states of meditation.

    Angela Stubbs: That feels like a very different angle on equanimity. What happened when you went into the lab?

    Margaret Cullen: They stimulated my brain and asked what I was experiencing. I didn’t feel anything. I was disappointed because Shinzen Young was there, along with Jay Sanguinetti, who runs the lab at the University of Arizona. Over lunch, they described extraordinary experiences they’d had using the technology.

    I wanted to feel that. I even considered changing my flight home to try again. I believe them. But I didn’t have that experience.

    From my perspective, equanimity is part of some of the most cutting-edge research just beginning to unfold. It’s early. Where it ends up, nobody knows.

    Margaret Cullen is a licensed psychotherapist and a pioneer in bringing contemplative practices into mainstream settings. She was one of the first ten people to be certified as an MBSR instructor and has taught around the world. As a therapist, she facilitated psycho-social support groups for cancer patients and their loved ones for over 30 years.

    She also developed Mindfulness-Based Emotional Balance and co-authored a book about it with Gonzalo Brito Pons. She was a Senior Teacher and Curriculum Developer for Humanize, a contemplative-based dyad program founded by German neuroscientist Tania Singer. Margaret is a Mind and Life Institute Fellow, on the advisory board of the Global Compassion Coalition, and has been a meditation practitioner for over 40 years. You can find Quiet Strength here.



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  • Does Mindfulness Make You Kinder? Key Studies On What We Know (and Don’t Know Yet).

    Does Mindfulness Make You Kinder? Key Studies On What We Know (and Don’t Know Yet).

    Do mindful people feel better in their own bodies? Does mindfulness make you kinder? Researchers are diving into these questions and uncovering the benefits of mindfulness.

    People come to mindfulness practice for many reasons. They might need support dealing with stress, or want a go-to way to help improve their sleep. There are plenty of questions, too, like: What does the research say about mindfulness and physical health? Does it really matter how often you meditate? Does mindfulness make you kinder for real, or is that mostly just what people just say?

    While studies are numerous and ongoing, and of course not every question can be answered definitively—we can look at some research gathered from Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley, Center for Healthy Minds at University of Wisconsin–Madison, Center for Mindfulness at UMass Medical School, and American Mindfulness Research Association, to help explore some of these questions more deeply.

    Feeling good in your own skin

    Do mindful people feel better about their bodies? Researchers asked 115 female college students about their level of mindfulness, body responsiveness, body shame, and overall health. Women who reported greater awareness and who tended to be nonjudgmental and nonreactive—key mindfulness skills—had less body shame, were more attuned to their bodies, and were healthier overall. The researchers say it’s not yet clear whether mindfulness increases body satisfaction, or vice versa. 

    Building your meditation muscle 

    In a comparison of adults who listened to either a guided meditation or a podcast daily for 13 minutes, researchers found that meditators reaped more benefits. For instance, after eight weeks meditators felt less anxiety and reported fewer negative mood states. And their performance on a set of computerized tests showed that they’d developed better attention and memory skills than podcast listeners. 

    The brain networks that work to keep us in the present moment and remember information are like mental muscles: They need exercise to keep them sharp and well-functioning, and meditation may provide that workout. The study also found that people in the meditation group were better at regulating their emotions, which was tied to having fewer negative moods. 

    But before you think this was a quick fix, think again. When the researchers checked to see if these benefits could be detected after four weeks, they came up empty-handed. Most of the gains didn’t show up until after eight weeks of steady practice. As with exercising a physical muscle, it takes time, patience, and repetition for change to take effect. 

    Does mindfulness make you kinder to yourself and others?

    Self-compassion may make aging easier. A review of the research showed that adults over 65 who practiced self-compassion tended to be less anxious and depressed, and felt a greater sense of well-being, than those who didn’t. (Tip: It probably doesn’t hurt to start practicing when you’re young.) 

    Mindful menopause

    Researchers at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota surveyed nearly 1800 women aged 40 to 65 to see if those with a more mindful disposition might experience fewer menopausal difficulties. In fact, those with higher mindfulness scores were less stressed and had fewer symptoms like mood swings, hot flashes, insomnia, and fatigue—encouraging results for the millions of women experiencing this midlife passage.

    Mindful ripples 

    Does mindfulness make you kinder? That’s the question researchers asked when reviewing 31 studies on mindfulness and prosocial behavior. They found that dispositionally mindful people and those who completed some form of mindfulness training tended to be more compassionate and helpful. Being nonjudgmental, empathic, having a positive outlook on life, and knowing how to regulate emotions also increased behavior that benefitted others. 

    There were a few catches. Adults tended to be more prosocial than teenagers, and people who rated themselves higher in mindfulness were more helpful to people they knew than to strangers. 

    This didn’t apply to those who’d attended formal mindfulness training, though. They were just as kind to people they didn’t know as to those familiar to them. One big surprise was that people who’d received mindful awareness training and those who’d had compassion-focused instruction were equally prosocial, debunking the myth that the benefits of mindfulness are only limited to the individual. In other words, just being mindful may be enough to up your kindness quotient. 



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