If we want to understand how to fall in love, then we have to know what builds connection.
We often think of love as primarily a feeling, rather than a skill that we can build. So when we look for advice for how to fall in love, we miss out on one of the primary pathways to an enduring happiness: facilitating a sense of connection.
When we feel connected, we feel balanced. And when we feel balanced, we often feel happy. The problem is, as we grow up, we have to learn how to shield ourselves from vulnerability, so we build up walls or put on armor that make connection more difficult.
One of the most powerful (and challenging) practices to do is look into another person’s eyes for a prolonged period of time. It immediately makes us feel vulnerable! It may not matter whether it’s a stranger or someone you’ve been in a partnership with for over 50 years (sometimes this makes it more difficult). But when we do it, it’s fascinating what arises.
Check out this short video from Soul Pancake to see some of the surprising results of people making connection:
One of the defining characteristics of compassion is recognizing our common humanity.
Behind my eyes and your eyes are the same fundamental needs, to feel cared about and understood—to feel a sense of belonging.
When we look into another’s eyes and see this, it can melt the barrier and uncover the connection that’s always been there. This is an essential element for uncovering happiness.
Try this out as an experiment for yourself:
Today, look into the people’s eyes that you meet and see the person behind the eyes. What happens when you bring the mindset that this person is “Just like me?” This mindset understands that underneath it all, this person wants the same things I do, to feel cared about, to feel understood, to feel accepted, a sense of belonging, and to be happy. And all of those experiences are foundational to our understanding of what sits at the heart of real, lasting love of any kind. Being intentional about fostering genuine connection—with yourself, with others—is how to fall in love.
Put your biases aside, test it out and see what you notice.
A simple mindful practice that can slow down emotional reaction, invite a breath, and encourage you to pause before you post.
Social media has made it easy to broadcast our thoughts and feelings far and wide in an instant. At the same time, we often don’t even consider the huge numbers of people who will read what we share. How many friends do you have across your socials? 300 to 400? 500 plus? How often do you really pause before you post?
When feelings are at a fever pitch, there’s a lot of rapid-fire, non-face-to-face communicating. For teenagers this can be especially tricky, given their proclivity for impulsivity.
“Adolescents are biologically more prone to making decisions that are not well thought out,” says Tristan Gorrindo, a child and adolescent psychiatrist at The Ross Center in Washington, D.C. “The part of the brain right behind the forehead, which controls judgment, is at that time undergoing a rapid period of development,” says Gorrindo, who is studying the way families use technology.
For teenagers and adults alike, it’s far too easy for a moment of heightened emotion to result in acrimonious conflict, bullying, or just saying something that lives forever and can be deeply regrettable.
Gorrindo has created a practice called W.A.I.T., designed with teenagers in mind (but perfect for anyone living in today’s digital world). Here are 4 questions to ask yourself before you post:
W = Wide Audience “Would I say this in front of a school assembly?” (If you’re a grown-up, imagine your entire office.)
A = Affect “Am I in a good emotional place right now?”
I = Intent “Might my intent be misunderstood?”
T = Today “Today, tomorrow, or the next day? Can this wait a day?”
Evaluating the urgency of what we’re about to say can provide a helpful injection of perspective. Why is it so urgent? What will happen if you take a breath and pause before you post? And if you wait, might you feel differently about it later?
This article also appeared in a slightly different form in the December 2013 issue of Mindful magazine.
If you’re burned out, discouraged, and disconnected by all the struggle and suffering in the world, you’re not alone. In times of intense upheaval, mindfulness practice can feel impossible. Try this simple, grounding meditation to pause, reconnect with compassion and clarity, and return to yourself.
Many of us are bearing witness daily to suffering all over the planet. We care about others, and we want desperately to be of use—and seeing the horrors in images and videos and stories every day can be deeply dysregulating to our nervous systems.
When we get overwhelmed by this vicarious trauma, we tend to shut down. We disconnect for ourselves and each other. We’re so spun out in our anxiety, anger, or overwhelm that it can feel impossible to engage in any kind of mindfulness or meditation practice.
This week, Shalini Bahl offers tender and practical guidance for how to pause, reconnect, and return to ourselves and our essential practice in times of intense internal and external upheaval.
A Meditation to Return to Ourselves When Practicing Feels Impossible
Read and practice the guided meditation script below, pausing after each paragraph. Or listen to the audio practice.
Welcome and thank you for being here, for caring enough to practice despite the gazillion things you could be doing with your time. The world needs people right now who can stay grounded while engaging with the suffering we’re all witnessing with open hearts and minds, people who can act from wisdom rather than overwhelm. People who haven’t lost themselves in the chaos. But we do lose ourselves, all of us.
When we bear witness to crisis after crisis after crisis, our nervous systems dysregulate. We lose contact with our wisdom, our intentions, our sense of what’s actually ours to do. This practice helps us return.
We’ll move through three pathways to return home to ourselves. First, inner calm, where you return to clarity and agency. Then compassion, where we are going to reconnect with our humanity and others. And finally curiosity, where you discover what’s actually yours to do, what’s possible for you to do. If you find one pathway calling to you more than others, feel free to linger there longer. Trust what you most need. So ready to begin?
Come to a posture that feels supported, lying down or seated. Feel the elongation along the back of your spine and neck. Roll your shoulders up, back and down. When you feel ready, lower or close your eyes.
From this place of presence let’s begin by taking three intentional breaths. Breathe in through the nose and exhale slowly through the mouth. If you like, you can make a sighing sound as you exhale.
Now return to your natural rhythm of the breath. Invite your mind to be here with your body, with your breath, resting in your awareness of the direct sensations of breathing in the region of your heart. Settle your attention in that one place in your body, in the region of your heart as you breathe in, perhaps noticing the space that’s created in your chest. And as you exhale the relaxation, letting go just for these few minutes letting go of any rushing, any expectations or judgments.
If you like, place one or both hands on your chest. Especially on days where our minds are busy, we feel fragmented. Placing one or both hands on the chest can really relieve the nervous system. Sense the warmth or coolness of your hands. The rising and falling of your chest under your hands, making contact with your body, sensing the beating heart.
Give your full care and attention to every inhale, to every exhale and resting in the pauses in between. Notice that space when your in-breath turns to an out-breath. And a slight pause before a new breath enters the body.
From time to time, your mind may wander away, and that’s natural. As soon as you notice that, with kindness invite your mind to return to this place of rest and awareness in the region of your heart. Connect with your direct experience of breathing, just the way you are. And notice if there’s any striving here, letting go of any effort to even meditate as the breath moves itself and your awareness. All you’re doing is returning to your awareness of this breath moving effortlessly in and out of your body.
Just for these few moments, allow yourself to rest. To replenish yourself, to feel resourced. And once your mind and body feel stabilized, listening within, ask yourself: What would support you in feeling rested, resourced? What would care for yourself look like in this moment? It might be as simple as turning towards yourself with kindness, appreciating the goodness of your heart and mind. Taking this time to listen within what you need more of, more rest, more movement, connection. Let yourself be held by your own loving kindness.
From this innate capacity for goodness, for compassion, gently note who you might have hardened against today. You don’t need to start with the hardest person, the one whose actions feel unforgivable. Start with someone easier. Maybe someone who said something online that rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe someone doesn’t understand or see you. Maybe a family member, a colleague, a stranger. Or maybe yourself. With kindness, simply notice the hardness. There’s no need to change it or fix it. Just feel the way it lives in your body, in your chest or belly, your throat. Breathe in to make space for it, to make space around it.
Recognize this hardness, its protection. You’ve seen unbearable things. You’ve been hurt. The hardness makes sense. And it’s also disconnection. Disconnection from our relational intelligence, from our capacity to see our shared humanity. And if it’s helpful gently invite this question: What if you had grown up in their circumstances? What if you’d received the same information, the same upbringing, the same experiences? Who would you be? Can you soften just a little when you consider this? That we’re all shaped by causes and conditions, often beyond our control. You may not agree with them or even condone what they’re doing. Can you consider saying this person has suffered just like me? This person also wants to be happy just like me?
Using your breath as an anchor to stay connected with yourself and with your good heart—can you feel that invisible thread connecting you? You’re both breathing the same air, drinking the same water. Living on this one planet we all call home.
Take a few moments to listen within. What shifts when we touch this shared humanity?
From this place of connection with yourself and our shared humanity, let’s explore what’s important to you, what’s possible, and what’s yours to do. So return to our open awareness. What’s most important to you in this moment? Take this time to reconnect with your deepest intentions and values. You might ask questions like: What am I not seeing? What might your body be trying to tell you that your mind is missing?
Without trying to find something special or seeking answers, just staying connected with your body. Trust your inner knowing as you consider the possibilities for actions you can take that are aligned with your intentions, with your unique gifts, with your values. What if there’s something you haven’t tried yet? Some approach you haven’t considered or some alliance you haven’t imagined? Open your mind and heart to new possibilities. Even if you don’t receive specific answers right now, just hold that question, being willing to love the unanswered question and being willing to live the question.
From this place of open curiosity, willing to see what you’ve been missing, ask what’s actually possible here. Not what you’ve always done, not what everyone is doing or telling you to do but what is yours to do and what would actually help If you need more clarity. Try journaling, being in nature and any other activity that supports you in returning to yourself to feel connected, alive, present with the gift of this life at this time on this planet Earth.
Even as we end this practice, remember that you can come back anytime. Every time you notice you’re lost in the scroll, in the rage and the numbness, you can return to your inner calm, your compassion, and your innate capacity for keeping an open and curious mind. This is where clarity, humanity, and creativity live.
Thank you for your practice. May our practice together benefit us and benefit all beings.
The Walk for Peace has been, in many ways, easy to miss. There are no slogans, no signs held up, no calls to action.
Instead, there is just walking. One step, then another. Breath moving in and out. Bodies moving steadily through places designed for speed.
After 108 days and over 2,300 miles, the Buddhist monks and their beloved dog Aloka have arrived at their destination in Washington, D.C. On February 11, 2026—Day 109—they will host a global loving-kindness meditation at 4:30pm EST.
Our current culture is shaped by loud, frantic things: urgency, outrage, and constant stimulation. This long-distance pilgrimage across the United States offers something distinctly countercultural. It is quiet, steady, unassuming, and attentive.
It’s a (sometimes uncomfortable) reminder that our ideas about peace are often future-oriented and externalized. We imagine a time that’s not-now, where the horrors that plague us are gone, and we can finally feel okay.
I live in Minneapolis, right in the city. It is not peaceful here right now. We’re surrounded daily by realities that are destabilizing, uncertain, and frightening. Smack in the middle of that, people here are also quietly nurturing a web of care that extends to neighbors and strangers alike, that is stubbornly insistent on the possibility that we belong to each other.
What I notice is that we are starved for gentleness in a world that glorifies dominance and control. We ache for compassion in a world that keeps telling us that softness makes us weak and defective.
This past month, I’ve found myself multiple times a week checking in with the Walk for Peace. I watch videos of such tender interactions as people go to watch these monks pass by, sometimes offering flowers or just an encouraging hello. They spontaneously weep, and I do, too.
What I notice is that we are starved for gentleness in a world that glorifies dominance and control. We ache for compassion in a world that keeps telling us that softness makes us weak and defective.
It’s difficult, but also strangely empowering, to sit with the truth that the monks are embodying. Something shifts in me when I begin to think of peace, not as something “out there,” but as a thing that starts as a tiny kernel in each of us—something we tend like an ember, ignite with our own breath and attention, and then intentionally carry and share with others—moment by moment, step by step.
What Is the Walk for Peace?
The Walk for Peace is a long-distance walking journey across the United States, led by a small group of Buddhist monks and supported by volunteers and community members along the way. The route of the walk has stretched over 2,000 miles, beginning in Fort Worth, Texas, and ending in Washington, D.C., crossing ten states along the way.
While it draws from contemplative Buddhist traditions, the walk itself is not a religious event. It is a lived experiment in mindfulness, compassion, and nonviolence—expressed through the simple act of walking.
At its core, the walk is a moving mindfulness practice. The participants walk attentively, often in silence, allowing each step to re-anchor them to the present moment. For observers and those who join briefly, the experience can feel unexpectedly grounding. There is nothing to argue with, nothing to agree or disagree with. It’s just people moving through space with care, which is on the surface completely unremarkable—but somehow it feels like the most revolutionary thing.
By walking attentively through public spaces, the participants model an alternative way of being—one that does not require agreement, belief, or affiliation. With each step, they seem to be simply saying, Notice your breath, notice your pace, notice the people around you.
Unlike marches designed to persuade or protest—and of course those also have their place—the Walk for Peace makes no demands. It invites reflection rather than reaction. Many who encounter it describe a sense of calm or curiosity. It’s a noteworthy pause in the usual mental clutter of daily life.
Rather than addressing specific political outcomes, the walk focuses on something more foundational: how people relate to themselves and one another in everyday life.
As an intentional mindfulness practice, the walk has highlighted several key principles:
Slowing down in a culture that rewards speed
Embodied awareness, using movement as an anchor to the present moment in a culture that often uses distraction and numbing
Compassion, practiced through respectful presence rather than persuasion
Nonviolence, not only as the absence of harm, but as an intentional orientation toward care
By walking attentively through public spaces, the participants model an alternative way of being—one that does not require agreement, belief, or affiliation. With each step, they seem to be simply saying, Notice your breath, notice your pace, notice the people around you.
Peace, in this context, is not an end point, but a capacity that grows with practice.
The monks have been accompanied by Aloka, a stray who found them in India on another peace pilgrimage. Photo credit: Aloka the Peace Dog
The First Steps
Walking has long been associated with reflection and insight. It naturally regulates the nervous system, invites awareness of breath and sensation, and brings attention out of abstraction and into the body. By choosing walking as their medium, the organizers grounded their response in something universally human.
The Walk for Peace began with a simple question: How do we respond to a world marked by division, stress, and suffering without adding more noise?
In an informational ecosystem shaped by influencers and social media, we’re accustomed to slogans and sound bites, having people talk at us, trying to shape our thinking and feeling. But these monks aren’t delivering a message to people; they’re living out a practice among them.
Instead of issuing statements or organizing events, they chose to walk—slowly, visibly, and consistently—through the very communities shaped by the pressures and pains of modern life.
Portions of the walk, through places like Selma and Montgomery, Alabama, were tracing steps taken by leaders of the Civil Rights movement.
What is it like for us, generations on, to watch humble people radiating compassion and healing over so much painful ground, to watch them bear witness to realities and tend to wounds that we, collectively, still haven’t fully contended with?
The steady gaze, pace, and breath of people like the monks remind me [that] no one person is bearing all of this alone. They’re carrying and surrendering, rejoicing and connecting, witnessing and walking, together.
I drive through Minneapolis and see in real time the trauma of racialized violence: weary but resolute people holding signs on street corners, begging for mercy and humanity; “closed” signs in business windows where workers have been taken; a car parked askew on the road, driver’s side window smashed, door still open. Did someone see it happen at least so that the owner’s loved ones can be notified?
It is so painful to witness, to look this moment in the eyes. I want to turn away. In my chest, it feels like I’m drowning. But the steady gaze, pace, and breath of people like the monks remind me of two important things.
First, the longer we resist offering our attention to these unhealed places, the more we will keep living through the reverberating echoes of those same wounds over and over and over again. Different possible futures are only made possible by first giving our loving awareness to what’s happening right now—even (maybe especially) when it surfaces sorrow, hopelessness, or anger that we’re not sure we can handle in the moment.
Second, no one person is bearing all of this alone. There’s no hero doing all the work. They’re carrying and surrendering, rejoicing and connecting, witnessing and walking, together.
In many communities, people have gathered along the route—sometimes in the hundreds, sometimes in the thousands—drawn less by promotion than by word of mouth and curiosity.
Some offer food or encouragement. Some walk quietly for a stretch, or just stand and watch.
Online, the walk has attracted millions of followers. Photos and short videos of monks walking through rain, heat, and traffic circulate widely, often accompanied by comments describing a sense of calm or inspiration.
Some people express skepticism, questioning whether walking can have any real impact in a world facing complex systemic challenges.
This tension is familiar within mindfulness circles, as well. Practices that emphasize inner awareness are sometimes dismissed as passive or insufficient. I understand that skepticism, even as research and lived experience increasingly suggest that attention, regulation, and compassion are not luxuries—they are necessary for wise action.
Many people who encounter the walk haven’t reported dramatic transformations. They describe something smaller and maybe more sustainable—a softened interaction, an experience of being deeply seen, a reminder to slow down. Again: we so often come looking for drama because we’re conditioned for it—but perhaps what heals us shows up in a thousand quiet, un-social-media-worthy moments.
Being Peace When Peace Feels Absent
The Walk for Peace does not claim to solve global problems. It does not promise immediate results.
What it offers instead is a living question: What changes when we choose to move through the world with awareness and care?
Peace is not something we wait for, hoping for external conditions to improve, but something we practice within the conditions we have.
Mindfulness practice is rooted in such elemental things—the breath, the body, the next moment. The mind wanders, as it always does, to other things. I think these days of my neighbors, my friends, my worry and anger, the work that needs to be done, what will become of my city, my country.
My practice has never been fancy, and even over years now, I have always been more earnest than skilled. Tears sometimes spill over, and my practice is like a cool hand on my forehead, like a reassuring mother, calling me home.
The walk has embodied this return home on a collective scale. It suggests that peace is not something we wait for, hoping for external conditions to improve, but something we practice within the conditions we have.
I know the walk is coming to its end. In all honesty, I’m going to miss the images and the videos. They have been a kind of nourishment over these long, dark weeks.
I also know that something real has passed between real people. Maybe for the first time in a long while, we’ve had a glimpse of what happens when we just stop, even for a few moments, and notice one another. On the surface, it’s so tiny it’s almost nothing, just a breath or a blink or a step—but I swear I can sense that spark of compassion leap from one person to another. I’ve felt it here, and I know it matters.
Karen Armstrong, founder of the Charter for Compassion, on what we need to do to make a better world.
When British author Karen Armstrong won the TED prize in 2008, she used the money to convene a group of religious thinkers from a wide range of faiths to craft an updated version of the Golden Rule for the 21st century. What emerged was the Charter for Compassion, which calls on people around the world “to work tirelessly to alleviate the suffering of our fellow creatures, to dethrone ourselves from the center of our world and put another there, and to honor the inviolable sanctity of every single human being, treating everybody, without exception, with absolute justice, equity and respect.”
That document inspired the creation of an international network, which now includes hundreds of organizations and more than 75 cities, ranging from Kara- chi to Belfast to Chippewa Falls.Below is a 2016 conversation with Armstrong about the charter, her vision for a more compassionate world, and why this particular mindful quality is actually essential to save the planet.
Why the focus on compassion?
Every one of the major religions has formulated its own version of the Golden Rule. That’s the essence of faith and spirituality. And it seemed to me that it wasn’t just a nice idea; it was an urgent global imperative. Unless we learn to ensure that all people, no matter where they live, are treated the way we would like to be treated, the world isn’t going to be a viable place.
You’ve said that a compassionate city has to be an uncomfortable city. What do you mean?
It should be a city that’s uncomfortable about pain and suffering in the world. Especially in the West, we live lives of such privilege that we often block out the awful things that are going on in the world. We shouldn’t be able to sleep, for example, when we see all these migrants literally dying to get into Europe.
The Golden Rule insists that we cannot confine our benevolence to just our own congenial group.
The Golden Rule insists that we cannot confine our benevolence to just our own congenial group. “You must have concern for everybody,” says one Chinese sage. “Love the stranger, the foreigner,” says Leviticus. “Reach out to all tribes and nations,” says the Koran. That’s the message of the Charter.
That’s nice, but don’t we live in a me-first culture?
People always say to me, “We have to have compassion for ourselves.” That’s true. Unless you face up to the pain in your own life, you’re going to be hard on other people. But you can’t stop there. A few years ago, I wrote a book called Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life, and I made self-compassion step three. There are nine other steps after that, ending with: Love your enemies.
We have to see ourselves as a collective. The alienation the West is causing is as dangerous for humanity as climate change.
How so?
One thing that makes me angry about Europe is that we think that we’re the only ones who are being attacked by terrorists. Two days before the most recent attacks in Paris, 44 people were blown up in Beirut by an ISIS suicide bomber, and the media in the West barely mentioned it. This is noticed in the Muslim world. Earlier this year, I gave a lecture in Amman, Jordan, and a man who’d brokered the peace deal between Jordan and Israel came up to me and said, “The West has lost its humanity.” We care only for ourselves. This is not compassion.
Is there a city that inspires you?
Karachi, Pakistan. They’ve created a network of schools there that integrate compassion with the core subjects in the curriculum rather than teaching it as a separate entity. It was the children who asked the mayor to make Karachi a compassionate city. They said they wanted a community where there was more equality and they could go out in the streets and not be blown up by a suicide bomber.
What gives you hope?
I’m happy that so many of the people who’ve come forward to help are business people. I’m a writer who sits around writing about ancient history. What do I know about building organizations? But business people know how an idea becomes part of the structure of life, not just a lot of wild do-gooding that makes people burn out.
This is a broken world and one has to look at it squarely and with love. If we succumb to despair then all is lost. One must keep on, but always maintain that high state of discomfort.
Feeling overwhelmed can be so uncomfortable that we often want to rush to make it go away. Here’s a practice to slow down, meet yourself, tap into your agency, and connect with clarity.
We often treat experiences like restlessness, uncertainty, or the overwhelm of difficult emotions as a problem to be solved. And of course, it’s normal to want relief. So how can you tap into your agency, even when things are swirling around you and you’re not sure how to move forward?
Today, teacher Chery Vigder Brause leads a guided practice that’s centered around meeting ourselves exactly where we are. In that pause, where we encounter ourselves without trying to fix anything, even if just for a moment, we actually create a space where we can get clarity on how to respond to ourselves, others, and the world.
Cheryl Vigder Brause is a nationally recognized mindfulness and meditation teacher, writer and speaker, specializing in leading corporate clients, schools, and individuals across the country in programs and meditations on stress management, boosting happiness, and living their best lives. She is the Co-Founder of Pause to be Present, a mindfulness and meditation studio. To learn more about Pause to be Present’s programs, visit www.pausetobepresent.com.
A Meditation to Tap Into Your Agency When Things Are Chaotic & Uncertain
Read and practice the guided meditation script below, pausing after each paragraph. Or listen to the audio practice.
Today we will exercise our power to pause, to take a breath, to down-regulate our nervous system, and to choose how we want to meet this moment. Let’s begin. I invite you to gently arrive in this moment, where so often busy going, doing, and moving, trying to get somewhere else, instead of arriving exactly where we are.
Arrive fully in this moment. Find a comfortable posture or position with your body. You can be seated or lying down for this meditation. Get comfortable. Feel free to move a bit until you can settle the body into a comfortable and supported posture. If you’d like, you can gently close your eyes or simply lower your gaze.
Take a slow, deep breath, breathing in through the nose. And a long steady exhale through the mouth. Notice how that feels. Notice how it feels to simply stop all that forward momentum and simply allow yourself to fully arrive in this moment. Again, take a nice slow breath in, feeling that air fill your lungs and torso. And then slowly and fully exhale. Feeling the release of air and the release of tension in the body. One more slow, deep breath together, breathing in fully, and breathing out.
Remind yourself that in this moment and in this meditation, there is nothing you need to do right now. There’s no way you have to be in this moment and nothing you need to fix or change or accomplish.
I invite you to simply pause to be. Rest in the fullness of this moment just as you are. Notice how that feels to simply be here. Give yourself permission to simply be present.
Notice what’s here for you. Are there sounds around you? If so, simply notice them. Can you feel a coolness or a warmth of the air on your skin? Can you notice the contact your body is making with the ground beneath you? Can you notice what is beneath you supporting you? Can you let yourself be supported?
Now, take a moment to relax the body. Sink into the ground beneath you. Notice if there are any places of tension or tightness in your body. We often hold our stress as tension in the body, in our muscles and our back and neck and face. Become aware of your own body and where you may be holding tension, what feels tight or constricted.
This is another moment of choice: the power of the pause to simply become aware of how you’re showing up in this moment and then choosing how to be in this movement. Are there areas of tension in the body? And if so, can you breathe into those areas? And as you exhale, can you invite in ease? Can you let go of tension? With each inhale, create spaciousness and openness in any areas of tension or tightness. And with each exhale, a letting go.
Often in our busy modern lives, we’re stressed, anxious, tense, or nervous. Another choice we can make each day is to exercise our own ability to pause, to connect inward, and to regulate our own nervous systems. In fact, one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself to improve your wellbeing and health is a regulated nervous system. It not only boosts health, but it aids sleep and digestion, can improve focus and clarity, and can help you make wise choices in navigating life.
Take another moment to check in. How do you feel? What is your emotional landscape right now? You may feel tired, you may feel excited or nervous or anxious or at ease. Simply notice whatever is happening in your inner experience in this moment.
Gently bring your attention back to the feel of the breath in the body. Notice where you feel that breath moving in and out. Notice how you can sit and receive the breath. Perhaps you feel your breath in the rise and fall of your chest, or the movement of the belly, or the air passing in and out of your nostrils. Just notice where you feel that breath and just focus your attention there for a few moments. There’s no need to change the breath. Just allow its natural and easy rhythm to move in and out of your body. With each inhale, feel the spaciousness in the torso. With each exhale, imagine the body receiving the message, It’s okay to soften. It’s safe to slow down. You might silently say to yourself, as you breathe in, I calm the body. And as you breathe out, I soften and release. Breathing in, I calm my body. Breathing out, I soften and release.
Take a few more slow, deep breaths. With each inhale, create space and openness in the body. With each exhale, there’s an opportunity to relax, to release, to let go.
Your mind will wander, and that’s okay. This is a moment of mindfulness, a moment of choice. You are noticing that your mind has gone and been distracted, and you are cultivating the power to place your attention where you want it. Gently bring that attention back to your breath without judgment, without criticism and with a gentleness. Each noticing that the mind has wondered is not a failure, it’s a moment of mindfulness, a moment of care, of choice, a moment of gentleness with yourself, an opportunity to exercise that mental power to place your attention where you want it. It’s a beautiful reminder that every moment is an opportunity to begin again.
Now gently bring your awareness to your whole body. Notice how it feels to sit. See if in the next few moments, you can make the choice to let go of any need to change anything. To let go of any reflexive criticism, of any notion you’re doing this wrong. See if you can hold yourself with gratitude for simply showing up for this meditation with an open heart and an open mind. Notice how that feels. Whatever you experience, see if you can choose to meet your experience and yourself with kindness. This is another choice we have.
Try this phrase: What if it’s not a problem? What if I’m experiencing discomfort in this moment? And what if it’s not a problem? What if my mind is busy in this movement? And what it’s not a problem. What if i’m feeling restless in this moments? And what is it’s is not a problems? This is a choice we can make each day. Seeing life’s challenges not as a problem to fix or a signal that something is wrong, but instead choosing to meet our experience with curiosity and as an opportunity to learn and grow and navigate what’s happening in this moment with more ease, less resistance.
If you like, place a hand on the heart. Feel the warmth of your own touch, and silently offer yourself these few gentle phrases, allowing them to and in the mind and heart. May I be kind to myself in this moment. May I meet myself with tenderness just as I am. May I know that in each moment I have the power to pause and to choose how to meet myself, how to meet others and how to meet this world with care and tenderness.
Let’s take a breath together, a nice inhale, breathing in. And a beautiful exhale, breathing out. Begin to sense the whole body grounded, supported at ease.
As we come toward the close of this meditation, reflect for a moment on the idea that this moment and every moment you can practice mindfulness, awareness, and choice. Every moment is a fresh opportunity to practice, a new beginning. As this new year begins, know that you can return to this place of presence, tenderness, beingness and choice again and again.
When you’re ready, slowly bring your awareness back to the room you’re in. You can wiggle your fingers and toes. And when it feels right, I invite you to softly raise up your gaze or open your eyes. Thank you so much for practicing with me.
Jane Fonda did not come to Spirit Rock to offer comfort.
She came to invite attention toward what we’re inheriting, what we’re losing, and what we still have to protect.
For different generations, Jane Fonda has arrived in various forms. Some of us know her as an Oscar-winning actress whose early roles challenged cultural norms in films like Klute and Coming Home; others might remember her from her iconic fitness workouts in the early 80s (if you know, you know.)
But Jane Fonda doesn’t just redefine herself decade after decade, she reframes and rebuilds the very structures and movements she’s a part of. Whether that’s turning fitness into accessible self-care for women, relaunching the Committee for the First Amendment (free speech, anyone?), taking on the climate crisis by starting the Jane Fonda Climate PAC, or redefining vitality for anyone later in life through her role on the beloved show Grace and Frankie. These chapters, however, only hint at a deeper through-line.
Jane Fonda models a form of mindful leadership rooted not in legacy, but in invitation, showing how presence, curiosity, and connection can awaken action in every generation.
For decades, Fonda has leveraged her visibility as a platform, founding media outlets, funding grassroots organizing, lending her body to protests, and repeatedly engaging in uncomfortable conversations in service of collective change. Today, she directs that same attention toward the climate crisis, whether by forging relationships with younger artists like Maggie Rogers, who went on to more openly use her platform for climate and social advocacy after connecting with Fonda, or by studying with Roshi Joan Halifax to deepen her meditation practice and the way she shows up in the world.
One thing is for sure: Jane Fonda models a form of mindful leadership rooted not in legacy, but in invitation, showing how presence, curiosity, and connection can awaken action in every generation.
Mindfulness As Training, Not Escape
Fonda recently spoke as part of Spirit Rock’s EcoDharma & Transformational Culture Program (ETCP), a three-year initiative launched in January 2025 that explores how mindfulness and contemplative practices can support more intentional responses to climate change. While this program draws on Buddhist teachings, it is intentionally inclusive, inviting participants from diverse faiths and backgrounds.
In ETCP’s context, “spiritual” refers to practices that help cultivate awareness, compassion, and resilience—tools for understanding and responding to climate-related stress. The program addresses the intersection of mindfulness, ecological issues, and the urgent need for thoughtful, effective action.
For many readers of Mindful, meditation may feel like refuge, a place to step away from the unrelenting churn of news cycles, politics, and ecological grief. What this gathering at Spirit Rock made clear is that mindfulness was never meant to be an escape hatch. It was meant to be training.
At a moment when the climate crisis feels simultaneously overwhelming and dangerously normalized, Fonda’s presence at Spirit Rock Meditation Center landed with the weight of lived experience—decades of activism, moral reckoning, and an unshakeable belief that we cannot separate inner work from outer action. Her conversation with climate journalist Greg Dalton functioned as a deeply reflective inquiry into what it means to stay awake, empathetic, and engaged as time runs out.
For many readers of Mindful, meditation may feel like refuge, a place to step away from the unrelenting churn of news cycles, politics, and ecological grief. What this gathering at Spirit Rock made clear is that mindfulness was never meant to be an escape hatch. It was meant to be training.
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Urgent & Hopeful
Fonda spoke with respect to urgency, but not from a place of hopelessness. Instead, she framed this moment as one that demands both honesty and courage. “This is a moment when we have to bring our empathy to the fore,” she said, speaking to the deep divisions defining public life. Empathy, for her, is not a passive feeling—it is an active discipline, one she traces directly to her life in the arts.
“Acting is a profession of empathy,” Fonda explained. “We have to enter the skin of another human being and understand them … You can’t do that without empathy. And you have to have empathy even for somebody that you don’t like.”
That capacity, to stay open rather than armored, has helped to shape her activism as much as her performances. Fonda spoke candidly about how long it took her to soften what she called an “armored heart,” and how belonging to movements, rather than acting alone, made vulnerability possible. “There can come a moment in life when you enter a situation and, you know, this is where I’m supposed to be,” she said. “If you’re not alone, if you’re part of a movement, that sense allows you to become vulnerable and to open your heart.”
This insistence on collective action, grounded in relationship rather than righteousness, ran through the entire conversation.
ETCP’s mission is twofold: to support interfaith leaders and activists in meeting climate trauma with resilience and joy, and to empower a new generation of global citizens.
Over the next three years, ETCP will offer online lectures, class series, in-person retreats, and training programs designed to support communities engaging with climate change not only as a scientific or political issue, but also as a profoundly emotional and spiritual one. The program is guided by a core planning team of respected teachers and leaders, including Ayya Santacitta, Bonnie Duran, Carol Cano, James Baraz, Kirsten Rudestam, Kristin Barker, Mark Coleman, and Yong Oh, in collaboration with partners such as One Earth Sangha, Braided Wisdom, Aloka Earth Room, and Awake in the Wild.
Its mission is twofold: to support interfaith leaders and activists in meeting climate trauma with resilience and joy, and to empower a new generation of global citizens. At its heart is a radical proposition—that joy, mindfulness, and love for the Earth are not distractions from climate action, though essential to sustaining it.
When Mindfulness Meets the Climate Crisis
For many meditators, the connection between mindfulness and climate change is not apparent. Sitting quietly with the breath can feel worlds away from melting ice caps, polluted water systems, or data centers sprawling across the landscape.
Fonda expressed concern about AI and the rapid speed of technological advancement. “I’m horrified by it,” she admitted, acknowledging her own complicated relationship with technology. “I have ChatGPT on my phone. I feel guilty… I don’t understand it well enough to know how to combat it.”
Rather than offering easy answers, Fonda modeled something rarer: the willingness to stay with not-knowing without disengaging. Climate action, she suggested, does not begin with mastery; it starts with attention.
Her reflections on Indigenous knowledge underscored what has been lost through disconnection. Recalling time spent learning about the Ecuadorian rainforest, she talked about communities that live in conjunction with the land. “They showed us which plants heal which diseases,” she said. “We once knew how to listen to plants. We’ve forgotten how.”
Mindful engagement does not mean doing everything. It means doing something with intention, alongside others.
EcoDharma, as Spirit Rock frames it, is precisely this remembering—not as nostalgia, but as practice. And the key part of practice, when we hold both the Dharma and the environment front and center in our minds, is to understand that we all have something to do, no matter how small the task or step may be. As ETCP leaders emphasize, mindful engagement does not mean doing everything. It means doing something with intention, alongside others.
Identifying Our Unique Role to Play
A recurring question throughout the retreat was one many people quietly carry: What can I do?
Fonda’s answer was pragmatic and unsentimental. After years of protest through Fire Drill Fridays, she and a small group of collaborators recognized a gap between public pressure and policy change. “We haven’t got the legislation that’s commensurate with what science is saying we have to have,” she said. “The reason is that so many elected officials take money from the fossil fuel and petrochemical industries.”
That realization led to the creation of Jane Fonda Climate Pac, a political action committee focused on down-ballot races and state and local positions that often receive little attention but wield enormous influence over climate outcomes. “Public utilities, school boards, city councils, state legislatures, attorneys general,” Fonda noted. “All these people have huge power.”
The results have been striking: hundreds of climate champions elected, many of them women and women of color, willing to stand up publicly for environmental rights. “It’s working,” she said.
Alternate Entry Points to Climate Action
For those wary of politics, Spirit Rock’s EcoDharma program offers additional entry points and ways to engage, with an emphasis on joy-based action, interconnection, and resilience. This programming is designed precisely for people who feel overwhelmed, polarized, or exhausted by climate discourse.
Perhaps the most resonant moment of listening to Fonda speak was when she was asked about courage—how she continues to speak so openly, without becoming defensive, after decades in the public eye.
“It has been a process,” she said. “It took me a long, long time to open my heart.” What changed was not confidence, but belonging. “Being part of a movement… allows you to become vulnerable.”
She spoke about care—sleep, community, working with people she admires—as essential, not indulgent. “I’m a late bloomer,” she said with a smile. “But being a late bloomer is okay as long as you don’t miss the flower show. And I’m in the midst of a flower show.”
EcoDharma does not ask practitioners to abandon stillness. It asks them to let stillness inform their response. To allow mindfulness to widen into care, and care into action.
In that image, flowers blooming against the odds was a quiet invitation. EcoDharma does not ask practitioners to abandon stillness. It asks them to let stillness inform their response. To allow mindfulness to widen into care, and care into action.
As Fonda reminded the room, hope is not something we wait for. It is something we practice—together.
For more ways to connect, here’s a mindful action guide to use & share. Links are also provided below.
Here are some easy ways to show love with simple mindful actions that foster genuine connection and appreciation.
You might love the month of love, or you might not be into the whole Valentine’s Day thing. With $18 billion spent every February on flowers, chocolates, gifts, and restaurants in the United States every year, it’s safe to say that we have certain cultural ideas about how to show love.
So why not use the occasion to really celebrate love?
Here are a few ways to show love during this heart-stamped month, or any time of year—and none of them cost a penny.
Listen—really listen. That means giving them your openminded, genuinely interested attention, according to mindful communication experts Hope Martin and David Rome. Take the time to fully absorb what they’re saying. Body language, word choice, tone of voice—you’ll be amazed at what you may have been missing.
Offer your full presence when you’re together. Don’t look at your phone. Show love by showing up fully, without distractions. Resist the usual complaining about work. Slipping onto autopilot—a you-do-this/ I-do-that dynamic—is no fun and can erode any relationship, says Marsha Lucas, a neuropsychologist and the author of Rewire Your Brain for Love.
Value the little things someone does for you—and do some in return. Relationship coach Josh Wise suggests that couples take gratitude a step further: discuss the kindnesses you receive and how that makes you feel. In this way, you get to multiply the effect of thoughtful actions—first by experiencing it, then by sharing it, and then again by noticing how your recognition lifts the other person up.
Empathy. It’s a necessary ingredient for healthier relationships of all kinds. According to psychologist Ronald Siegel in The Mindfulness Solution, “When we can actually be with someone and empathize with his or her experience, even when it’s painful, the relationship deepens.”
This article also appeared in the February 2014 issue of Mindful magazine.
This classic loving-kindness meditation can help you to awaken to how connected we all are. You don’t have to like everybody, or agree with everything they do—but you can open up to the possibility of caring for them, because our lives are inextricably linked.
This classic loving-kindness meditation can help you to awaken to how connected we all are. You don’t have to like everybody, or agree with everything they do—but you can open up to the possibility of caring for them, because our lives are inextricably linked.
A Meditation to Connect With Loving-Kindness (Even When It’s Hard)
Read and practice the guided meditation script below, pausing after each paragraph. Or listen to the audio practice.
1. Begin by thinking about someone who has helped you; maybe they’ve been directly generous or kind, or have inspired you though you’ve never met them. When you think of them, they make you smile. Bring an image of the person to mind, or feel their presence as if they’re right in front of you. Say their name to yourself, and silently offer these phrases to them, focusing on one phrase at a time.
May you live in safety.
May you have mental happiness (peace, joy).
May you have physical happiness (health, freedom from pain).
May you live with ease.
Don’t struggle to fabricate a feeling or sentiment. If your mind wanders, simply begin again.
2. After a few minutes, move on to a friend. Start with a friend who’s doing well right now, then switch to someone who is experiencing difficulty, loss, pain, or unhappiness.
3. Offer loving-kindness to a neutral person who you don’t feel a strong liking or disliking for: a cashier at the supermarket, a bank teller, a dry cleaner. When you offer loving-kindness to a neutral person, you are offering it to them simply because they exist—you are not indebted to or challenged by them.
4. Offer loving-kindness toward a person with whom you have difficulty. Start with someone mildly difficult, and slowly work toward someone who has hurt you more grievously. It’s common to feel resentment and anger, and it’s important not to judge yourself for that. Rather, recognize that anger burns within your heart and causes suffering, so out of the greatest respect and compassion for yourself, practice letting go and offering loving-kindness.
5. Finish by offering loving-kindness to anyone who comes to mind: people, animals, those you like, those you don’t, in an adventurous expansion of your own power of kindness.
Loving-kindness offers us a profound sense of connection, guiding us to live our lives with greater intention and compassion. In this online course from Mindful, Sharon Salzberg—one of the world’s leading loving-kindness meditation teachers—offers us her distinctive approach to loving-kindness practice. Learn more and sign up today!
I’m delighted to offer you a series of meditations on building emotional resilience. Over the next four classes we’ll explore how to mindfully practice with four really common emotions: anger, anxiety, longing, and joy. I’ll offer some practices you can use both while you meditate and also in your life, when these emotions arise. Here, we’re looking at how to connect with your anger in a way that offers insight and choices, rather than just reactivity and overwhelm.
What’s An Emotion?
Let’s first explore what an emotion is. This is a rich topic that has even inspired some heated debate. If you find you’re interested beyond the scope of what we talk here, I encourage you to explore the work of two psychologists: Paul Ekman, and Lisa Feldman Barrett, who wrote a recent book calledHow Emotions Are Made: The Secret Life of the Brain. The work of these two author/scientists provides a good overview of the two differing viewpoints of the current discussion around human emotion. In the meantime, I’ll be sharing what I know with you here.
I don’t know about you, but I experience emotions as a combination of thoughts in my mind, plus physical or energetic sensations in my body, and the interaction between those two. When we’re meditating, we can see, via our moment-to-moment experience, that emotions are indeed made up of both mental content—such as visual and auditory thoughts—and physical sensations. And when we talk about physical sensations, let’s include all kinds: so, sensations we receive through our sense doors (seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling and touch), but also all of the physical sensations within our bodies.
I don’t know about you, but I experience emotions as a combination of thoughts in my mind, plus physical or energetic sensations in my body, and the interaction between those two.
There’s a great deal of nuance when it comes to our emotions and our understanding of them, but physical sensations in our bodies tend to get divided into two categories: physiological (ie: digestion, breathing, temperature, the feeling of our body and the weight of gravity); and what I refer to as emotional sensations or the felt sense in our body. A couple of examples: when we talk about having butterflies in our stomach when we’re nervous or excited; or the feeling of listening to a heart-warming story, which can actually produce a physical feeling of warmth in our chest. (Try to notice that the next time it happens).
Essentially, emotions are energy moving in our body. And that energy calls us to certain kinds of actions. Our emotions also help us connect with other people, and they provide us insight into our lives and a better understanding of what we value, what we want in the world.
Emotions In the Body vs. In the Mind
In my daily life, and in my meditation practice, I find it’s more helpful to attend to the physical sensations related to emotions rather than the thinking around those emotions. I say that because thoughts happen so quickly. It’s also so easy for us to get caught up and swept away in a story—to forget that thinking is happening and just be caught up inside of it. Physical sensations, on the other hand, are less subtle. That makes bringing our attention to them and holding them in our attention a lot easier. Physical sensations don’t move as quickly as thoughts, so we can notice them and notice how they shift and change. An added bonus: simply noticing the sensations in our body can provide us with a kind of grounding, an anchor. It’s a great starting point in both daily life and when we meditate, and we’ll explore that together here.
As we get to know our emotions, I really encourage developing an attitude of acceptance, respect and care for them—think of it as an honouring of our emotional world. Our emotions can offer so much rich information about our lives, about what we value, what we want; they also play a vital role in our relationships, providing the foundation of our connection in communication with others. In fact, some social scientists posit that the main role of emotions in our lives is really about social interaction and connection. It’s worth repeating: emotions deserve and are worthy of our attention, respect and care.
So together we’re going to practice skilfully connecting with and being curious about our emotions. And here’s our aim: not to act out with regards to the emotions we feel, but also not to suppress them. We’re going to practice just connecting with the emotion, holding it, being curious about it, with no expectation or drive to have to act it out, and not having to suppress or deny or ignore it either.
I really want to emphasize, too, that finding this middle way doesn’t mean we’re aiming to be indifferent or passive about our emotions. It just means that we’re going to take the time to actually be with the emotion long enough to figure out what the skillful response is—rather than get caught up in reacting to the surging energy of that emotion we’re feeling. Oftentimes we will still want to take action based on an emotion. In fact, that’s what they’re telling us: something has arisen that we need to act on. But what we’ll do in this practice is try to nudge ourselves into territory where we can act out of connection and care rather than a buzzing desire to get rid of the feeling we’re feeling—because that’s not acting, it’s reacting.
How to Connect With Your Anger Mindfully
In this first class together we’ll explore anger. We’ll think about a recent situation where we may have been angry, or for the lucky ones joining this meditation, maybe you’re feeling a little anger right now? (Talk about excellent timing!)
Before we get started, let’s talk a little bit about anger. Like every emotion, anger is totally natural and actually an extremely life-affirming emotion. Anger’s fundamental role is to protect us and protect what we care about in the world. It lets us know when a limit of ours, or a boundary, has been crossed. It lets us know when our needs are not being met or when someone we care about is in danger. So anger both lets us know something about what’s happening around us, and it energizes us to act. It rouses us to the necessary energy level to be able to respond to a threat. It’s essentially about protecting life.
At the same time, we know that when anger is misdirected or when we act on it compulsively, it can be a truly destructive force—for our own physical health, our relationships, and in some instances, in the wider world. So we want to learn how to respect, honour, care for and be with our anger—and gain some insight into the most skilful response in any given situation, rather than go with the reactive response that could cause more harm.
The first step, then, is to recognize and respect anger. This is what’s happening, and it’s part of the human experience. And we respect it by understanding that our anger is trying to take care of us in some way, even if it’s maladaptive for the situation. We’re aiming to learn how to be with the anger, see what’s really there, and then see how we want to respond. So let’s try this together.
Meditating on the Power of Anger
Watch the video:
Listen to the practice:
Read and practice the guided meditation script below, pausing after each paragraph. Or listen to the audio practice.
When you’re ready, come into a comfortable seated position. If it feels comfortable to close your eyes, please do so. Let’s take a few deeper breaths. Just allow yourself to feel the points of contact with the cushion or chair beneath you; feel your feet on the ground. Feel a sense of grounding here. Take a few longer inhales and exhales just to settle.
Now let’s bring to mind a recent situation when we felt angry. As with any practice around difficult emotions, for anger, let’s think about the angriest we’ve ever been as a level 10. What we’re seeking for the purposes of this exercise, then, is a situation that’s a three, or maybe a four. Consider something you experienced at the level of irritation or annoyance; don’t choose the last time you felt, say, enraged. When was the last time you felt irritated, annoyed or frustrated, perhaps about something someone did or said? Just bring to mind that situation.
Draw an image of this past situation into your mind. Recall the words that were spoken. Remember your own thought process related to the experience. At this point, you may be feeling some sensations in your body. Let’s go deeper. Can you recall the story you told (or tell) yourself around this experience? For example: What this person did or shouldn’t have done? How you were wronged? How it should have been different. Whatever it is, let that story run its course for you right now. Let it run until you begin to feel a sense of irritation or annoyance in your body.
Once you feel the irritation, we’re going to cut off the thoughts we’re having. Just cut off the storyline. This is vitally important with almost every difficult emotion. Step one: firmly direct your attention away from the story you’re telling. Next: bring your attention to your body. Really feel what’s going on inside your body. Where do you feel the anger in your body? Maybe in your chest? Your hands? Just notice that.
Now, what else is happening in your body? Find something that feels neutral, spacious or maybe even pleasant in your body. Maybe you feel this in your feet, or your contact with the chair. Maybe you’re focused on your hands touching. We’re simply creating some space around the anger. Notice the tip of your nose; notice your breath. If you can’t find any sensations in your body that feel safe or free from anger, take a moment to listen to the sounds around you. You can even broaden your awareness to include the whole room; and even further to include sounds that are far away. Rest your attention with these sensations for a few minutes. Allow yourself to find some ease and a bit of calm.
If you find your mind wanders back to the story, the thoughts about what’s making you angry, gently but firmly redirect your attention to the neutral sounds and neutral sensations you’ve identified. Just take a few breaths here.
Once we feel a little calmer, we can explore the anger more directly again. Let’s come back to where we feel anger in our body. Explore that: Do you feel tightness in your throat? Are there any sensations in your shoulders? How about your arms? Do you detect any sensations in your belly? If you find a place, really explore the sensation: Is there a temperature to this felt sense of anger, is it hot or cold? Is it throbbing? What are the edges like? Is it shifting and changing? As you stay with the felt sense of irritation, frustration, anger, and the directly felt sensations of hot, cold, vibrating, sharp—hold all of this with a lot of care and curiosity.
Now let’s notice what other emotions might be present. Is there anything else inside or beneath the anger? Can you detect any other emotions there? Fear? Sadness? Wanting? Just notice. Is there anything the anger might be masking? Be curious. Allow this to be very somatic. We’re not thinking about it, we’re not trying to understand it cognitively, we’re just letting the emotion reveal itself in a very direct, body-based way.
Notice if any other information arises from this anger. You could even drop in a question, such as: What does this anger need? What does it want me to know? Again, we’re just dropping the question into the felt sense in our bodies, and then seeing what arises. Are there flashes, images, words that could help you understand what’s needed? Do you get a sense of what action you may need to take? Let’s take another few moments of holding and being with the felt sensation of the irritation. Be curious about what your anger wants you to know, perhaps about what is needed.
As we bring this practice to a close, see if you have any insights into what you could do skilfully to respond to this irritation or anger. What would truly take care of this anger or frustration? Exploring our emotion in this way, we’re better prepared to respond in a rooted and grounded way; we’re better equipped to address what’s needed. As we finish, then, we can make a commitment to take whatever skillful action is needed. It might be something personal, such as some kind of self-care: maybe a walk, a nap, a meal. Or we might commit to having a direct and difficult conversation with someone, perhaps to ask for what you need or to set a limit. Just see if you can commit to taking one skillful action to address this situation.
When you’re ready, open your eyes if they’ve been closed and take a deep breath. Look around the room and orient yourself to your space, wherever you are.
Try to practice these skills in your daily life. If at any point you encounter in yourself feelings of anger or frustration, first: notice how you’re feeling: “Oh, anger,” or “I’m irritated.” Next, find some ground: feel your feet on the ground, feel the back of your body. And then notice what is not feeling angry in that moment, too. Get some space around the anger, and really open your awareness wide to the sounds and the space around you.
I can’t recommend this enough. And it can take as little as five seconds simply to connect with your feet on the ground and broaden your awareness. Then, when you feel some space and calmness around the anger, you can direct your attention back to the difficult emotion and ask that question: What is needed? What is needed right now? And then proceed from that place.
Zindel Segal explores the 3-Minute Breathing Space practice to develop your ability to ground yourself, return your attention to the present, and fully find yourself at any moment. Read More
