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Tag: difficult emotions

A Meditation on Working With Our Fear And Parenting From Love
Experiencing a season of struggle with your kid? You’re not alone. This gentle practice can help reconnect you with steadiness so you can keep parenting from love.
In our concern for our children, sometimes we respond from a place of fear and worry. From time to time, we can even lose touch with the love that lies beneath that concern.

Reconnecting with the ground of our love and the wish for our children to be happy and well, especially in moments of difficulty, can be incredibly beneficial.

This practice from Wendy O’Leary offers a pause of support and encouragement that can bring you back to that core of compassionate wisdom—and you can return to it anytime you need help parenting from love.

A Meditation on Working With Our Fear And Parenting From Love

Read and practice the guided meditation script below, pausing after each paragraph. Or listen to the audio practice.
1. Get into a comfortable seated position. You can close your eyes or gently look down and soften your gaze, whatever works best for you.
2. As we settle in here, bring your attention to your breath or feel the sensations of your body as it connects with the earth. Feet on the floor, backs of the legs on a chair or a cushion. Invite the attention to settle in a bit. Arrive in this moment by dropping into the body with the breath and the sensations of the contact points of the body. Gently settle in.
3. Now, I invite you to shift your attention to think about your child, maybe even picturing them in your imagination, calling to mind a time when you felt warm and loving feelings towards them. Notice what they were doing and remember how you felt in that moment. You might even imagine that someone has asked you, What do you love about your child? What words, phrases, images, or descriptions come to mind?
4. Gently check in and notice how you feel in your body, mind, and heart as you recall what you love about your child. You could even invite that feeling of love and connection to grow and expand in your body, gently resting here in this felt sense of love for your child. Let yourself marinate in this feeling of love and warmth and care.
5. Now, think of the time when your child was struggling. You don’t need to think of the most difficult struggle—instead, go with something that is a three or a four on a one to 10 scale.
6. As you allow the situation to more fully enter your awareness, check in again with your body. Often, when we are focused on a difficulty, especially when it’s related to our child, there can be a habitual tendency to contract and lean forward. Check it out and see if that’s true for you. To counteract this tendency, gently lean back just a little. This can be a physical leaning back or even an energetic settling back. Settle back and now invite the body to soften, even widen, creating space to hold whatever is there. We aren’t forcing anything here, it’s just a very gentle invitation to settle back and soften. Gently softening around the edges of any emotions we’re experiencing.
7. Now intentionally invite back that sense of love, holding the challenge in a spacious field of loving care and awareness. To help you do this, you might once again remind yourself of all the things you love about your child. You could even offer them some wishes of well-being and happiness as you picture them in your mind. May you be happy. May you well. May you safe. Or any wishes that feel true for you in this moment.
8. If the situation you’re calling to mind requires some response from you in some way, you might ask yourself, How would this love respond? You can also offer yourself a bit of care, because if your child is struggling, you are, too. So maybe place a gentle hand on the heart, or take a moment to remind yourself of our common humanity. You might say something to yourself like, Every parent struggles with their children sometimes. Every parent worries about their child at times. Or another phrase that might fit your situation. You could even say to yourself, This is hard, and I’m here for you, honey.
9. As you’re ready, you can open your eyes to close our formal practice. This practice can be a powerful way of reconnecting with feelings of love and cut through the worry and fears that we often experience as parents. It can be helpful to do the first part, remembering the love and care as a brief daily practice for a while, so you can more easily call up those feelings of love and connection in the midst of a challenging moment when you need the most help parenting from love. We want to acknowledge the hard stuff and not lose sight of the good and love that is underneath our worries and sometimes even our difficulties with our children. With my very best wishes, may you be happy and peaceful and move through life with ease and equanimity. Thank you for practicing with me.
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May 22, 2026
When Insight Isn’t Enough: An Interview with Juliana Sloane on Imagination, Hypnotherapy, and Deeper Transformation

Meditation practice can bring remarkable clarity. Over time, practitioners often become more aware of their thoughts, emotions, and recurring patterns. But awareness alone does not always translate into change. Many meditators can clearly recognize habits of mind such as anxiety, self-criticism, or people-pleasing and still find themselves repeating the same patterns.

Maybe it is the same relationship dynamic that keeps returning. Or the same inner voice of doubt that appears again and again during practice.

What happens when recognizing a pattern still does not shift it?

So what happens when recognizing a pattern still does not shift it?

Juliana Sloane, a meditation teacher and hypnotherapist, works with practices that explore how deeper, subconscious layers of the mind and nervous system shape our behavior. In this conversation with Mindful, she discusses why understanding our patterns does not always lead to transformation, how imagination and altered states can open new pathways for change, and how mindfulness practitioners might recognize when something arising in practice is asking for deeper attention.

Angela Stubbs: The topic I originally pitched for this conversation was “when insight isn’t enough.” Many people can recognize their patterns or understand why certain behaviors repeat in their lives. But insight alone does not always lead to real change. From your perspective, why is that?

Most of the people who come to work with me already have a great deal of self-awareness. But despite that awareness, they still feel stuck. They cannot stop the anxiety. They cannot stop holding themselves to impossible standards. They keep entering relationships that are not right for them.

Juliana Sloane: There are certainly situations where insight alone can be enough. Someone has an “aha” moment, something shifts internally, and the pattern loosens. But honestly, that is a fairly small percentage of cases I see, especially when it comes to deeply entrenched patterns and habits.

Most of the people who come to work with me already have a great deal of self-awareness. They often have meditation practices, they have been to therapy, and they are interested in personal growth. They can clearly articulate what their patterns are.

But despite that awareness, they still feel stuck. They cannot stop the anxiety. They cannot stop holding themselves to impossible standards. They keep entering relationships that are not right for them.

These kinds of patterns are not just intellectual. They are deeply embedded habits of the mind and nervous system. People have often been repeating them for years, sometimes their entire lives. Over time those repetitions form very strong neural pathways that steer someone back into the same familiar pattern.

Understanding the pattern can be helpful, but we also need ways to work with the deeper conditioning that keeps recreating it.

A very common thing I hear is, “I have done a lot of work on this issue. I understand it intellectually. But something still feels stuck.”

Angela Stubbs: How do people begin to recognize when something might need deeper exploration rather than continued observation or reflection?

Juliana Sloane: Usually, by the time someone comes to see me, they already have a sense that something deeper is going on. A very common thing I hear is, “I have done a lot of work on this issue. I understand it intellectually. But something still feels stuck.”

The feeling that there is ‘something deeper’ to explore is often a good sign someone might benefit from working with these layers of knowing and experience that lie further beneath the surface.

The biggest time someone might not be ready is when they are hoping for a quick fix that doesn’t require their active participation. We’re not waving a magic wand, we’re actively engaging with the mind, body, and nervous system to create the change that’s needed.

The work I do is about helping people develop tools to navigate their own inner worlds and access their own resources, insight, and wisdom. Ultimately, the goal is for people to feel more empowered in their own process and to realize that many of the answers they are looking for are already within them.

Angela Stubbs: If many of these patterns live outside conscious awareness, what is happening beneath the level of the thinking mind?

We tend to think that if we understand something intellectually we should be able to change it. But most of our behaviors and emotional responses are shaped by processes happening beyond the level of conscious thought.

Juliana Sloane: A lot of the patterns people struggle with are operating outside conscious awareness. We tend to think that if we understand something intellectually we should be able to change it. But most of our behaviors and emotional responses are shaped by processes happening beyond the level of conscious thought.

Over time repeated experiences form strong patterns in the mind and nervous system. Those patterns can become automatic, even to the extent that they begin to simply feel like part of who we are. Even when someone understands the pattern, they can still find themselves pulled back into it again and again.

Awareness can help us recognize what is happening, but the deeper conditioning that drives those patterns may still be operating underneath.

In many ways the conscious mind is only a small part of what is shaping our experience. If we are only working at that level, we are leaving a lot of the mind untouched.

Angela Stubbs: You often use the word trance in your work. For readers who may not be familiar with that idea, what do you mean by trance?

Juliana Sloane: When people hear the word trance, they often imagine something unusual or mysterious. And it certainly can feel magical, but that doesn’t mean it’s inaccessible. Trance is actually a very natural state of consciousness that people move in and out of all the time.

People’s ideas about hypnosis typically come from stage shows or older models where someone appears to ‘take control’ of another person’s mind. But that is not really how modern hypnotherapeutic work functions. Hypnosis is much more collaborative and empowering than people often imagine. The person entering trance remains aware and engaged in the process the entire time.

For example, when you are completely absorbed in a movie or a book and lose track of time, that is a kind of trance state. Your attention becomes focused and the usual analytical thinking mind quiets down.

In those moments the mind becomes more open to imagery, emotion, intuition, and deeper layers of experience. In trance-based practices we are intentionally working with that state of focused awareness so people can explore those deeper layers of their own inner experience.

Angela Stubbs: There are a lot of misconceptions about hypnosis. What do people often misunderstand about it?

Juliana Sloane: People’s ideas about hypnosis typically come from stage shows or older models where someone appears to ‘take control’ of another person’s mind.

But that is not really how modern hypnotherapeutic work functions. Hypnosis is much more collaborative and empowering than people often imagine. The person entering trance remains aware and engaged in the process the entire time.

What happens is that the analytical thinking mind begins to relax a little. We start to get out of our own way, which allows deeper layers of the mind and our own awareness to become more available.

Rather than controlling someone, the practitioner is helping create conditions where a person can explore their own inner experience in a different way and become an active agent of change in their own subconscious mind.

In many modern contexts we think of imagination as something childish or unserious. But imagination is actually one of the most potent ways the mind communicates.

Angela Stubbs: You speak about the role of imagination in this work. That can be surprising for people who tend to think of imagination as something unreal.

Juliana Sloane: In many modern contexts we think of imagination as something childish or unserious. But imagination is actually one of the most potent ways the mind communicates.

During a focused meditative or hypnotic process, things like imagery, metaphor, and archetype are often steeped in meaning. They’re not just ‘our imagination’ running wild, rather, they are symbols encoded with our beliefs, experiences, world view, memory, and so much more. In our day to day life, we often gloss over the power this holds. When people go into a hypnotic or trance-like state, those hidden metaphors, somatic experiences, and images naturally emerge for us to actively work with them.

Rather than dismissing those experiences as “just imagination,” we can begin to see them as powerful tools. Sometimes these experiences point us to deeper emotional patterns and allow us to process and integrate our experiences more fully. Sometimes they allow us agency to experience what it’s like to overcome obstacles or respond differently to things that used to trigger anxiety, self-doubt, or fear. For example, professional athletes do this all the time when they mentally rehearse breaking a record or performing at their best. Your brain doesn’t actually discriminate all that much whether you’re shooting the basket or envisioning shooting the basket– it takes that information and it runs with it. So when you’re working with a hypnotherapist, you’re using these tools to help your mind, body, and nervous system explore and integrate new options and ways of being.

Angela Stubbs: How do you see this work relating to mindfulness practice?

Juliana Sloane: I don’t see this work as replacing mindfulness practice. In fact, I think mindfulness creates the foundation for this to be possible in the first place.

Meditation helps people develop awareness of their thoughts, embodied experience, emotions, and patterns. That awareness is incredibly valuable because you cannot work with something if you don’t notice it.

What often happens is that when people develop a meditation practice, they begin to clearly notice patterns in their thinking, reactions, and the way they approach their world. They find they can observe those patterns clearly, but it does not necessarily shift things in their day-to-day life.

Practices that engage deeper layers of the mind can allow people to explore what might be underneath those patterns in a different way. Rather than replacing mindfulness, this kind of work can deepen the process that mindfulness begins.

Practices that engage deeper layers of the mind can allow people to explore what might be underneath those patterns in a different way. Rather than replacing mindfulness, this kind of work can deepen the process that mindfulness begins.

Angela Stubbs: Are there signs that something arising in practice might be inviting deeper exploration?

Juliana Sloane: Often it is when a pattern—for example, anxiety, or self-criticism, or a repeated issue with work, relationships, or life—continues to show up again and again, even when someone is very aware of it.

A person might recognize the pattern in meditation or in therapy. They understand where it comes from and they can see it happening in real time. But despite that awareness, it keeps repeating.

That can sometimes be a signal that the pattern is rooted in deeper layers of the mind or nervous system.

Those moments can become invitations to explore the pattern in a different way and to approach it with curiosity rather than trying to force it to change through understanding alone.

Editor’s note:

In a forthcoming article for Mindful, Juliana Sloane explores how meditation and hypnosis practices can support people living with chronic illness, including ways these approaches may help individuals relate differently to pain, fatigue, and the emotional challenges of long-term health conditions. Keep an eye on our homepage.

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May 8, 2026
5 Lessons on Vanity: An Invitation to Awareness and Letting Go

I was once considered beautiful. Perhaps, by some, I still am.

At fourteen years old, I took a modeling course with two of my girlfriends. The ultimate in turning the body into an object to be adored. After three weeks of learning how to walk, sashay, and twirl, we sat down to paint our faces. The palate consisted of endless brushes and shadows—pinks, browns, golds, and glimmering sparkles.

Now, I think of it as war paint. We were being trained in the art of disguise, heightening our beauty, to use sexuality as an enticing weapon, and as a means of power. But at the time, it was playing dress up, like a six-year-old getting into mum’s make up and smearing it all over her face, making garish designs that can look cute on children. I didn’t understand the implications.

As part of this evolution, thin eyebrows were a necessary part of the mask: pull out all those unsightly and unwanted hairs to create a narrow arch of both surprise and slight disdain, to disarm with a slight tilt of the head, gazing upward and flirtatious.

One of the instructors, Mary-Anne, was moon-faced, large lipped, and fish-eyed, with long lashes. She came at me with relish, gleeful, saying, “I’ve been waiting for weeks to get at you.”

As she carefully tugged out each hair my eye muscles contracted into an excruciating spasm. The tears poured out of my tortured left eye while I endured this in the pursuit of iconic beauty.

Lesson One: Vanity Is Costly and Finite

This was the first indication, although I didn’t get the message, that vanity has a price.

This attachment to the body, the idealizing of our skin bag, ultimately comes at great cost.

Women so often are defined by, and get their power from, physical characteristics that have a built-in expiry date. But at fourteen we can’t fully know this. It is impossible to feel what will become inevitable; we understand it as happening to others but not to us.

Smiling, she handed me a mirror. I looked and saw that I was a little more hidden—that what I thought of as me, was not really me.

So, I sat very still, passive, while my eye cried, fascinated that this eye had a mind of its own. Finally, the teacher finished. She examined her creation and was proud. Smiling, she handed me a mirror. I looked and saw that I was a little more hidden—that what I thought of as me, was not really me.

Lesson Two: Desire Leads to Suffering

When I was fifteen, Judy Welch, a diva of the modelling scene, and the owner of an agency, entered me in the Miss Chin Bikini contest that took place annually on Centre Island in Toronto.

We were twenty-two heads of cattle going up for the beauty auction. While uncomfortable, I was still too young to know what I was feeling. I still didn’t fully realize that we were up for scrutiny and judgment. Each of us was an object of comparison, to see who would be most valued.

It was 1971, and I wore a white crocheted bikini with daisy-like nipple coverings and brown platform strappy sandals. The contestants lined up before the judges in a back room behind the stage. We were twenty-two heads of cattle going up for the beauty auction. While uncomfortable, I was still too young to know what I was feeling. I still didn’t fully realize that we were up for scrutiny and judgment. Each of us was an object of comparison, to see who would be most valued in this competition of the female form.

Following this inspection, we swished along the runway in that contrived, lithe and pseudo-sexual manner to catcalls and Italian exclamations, and it was finally dawning on me that I am an object. It felt a little dangerous. I came in third place. Not the most beautiful, but still in the running. I won a bottle of Baby Duck that I was too young to drink, and my picture was in the Toronto Sun showing me walking, ash blonde hair, sharp jawed, bikini clad. I was a success.

Obscene breathy phone calls followed this win, until they stopped. Some version of me was wanted. I was repulsed and afraid, but clearly also wishing to be seen. It was confusing to do what was being asked of me and then putting myself at risk.

Thankfully, even then, the news was short-lived. Everything passes. This was the second lesson on vanity: As we attach, so do others, and this grasping is problematic.

Lesson Three: The Need for an Inner Life

The third lesson came when I went to see a photographer to create my modelling portfolio.

Every model needs a book of photos to display her various looks to potential employers. These are her wares.

Derek told me to go into the bathroom and ice my nipples and then put my tight black, ribbed cardigan back on. He directed me to partially undo my sweater. Dutifully, I complied. Already, I knew to do what men tell me. I was fifteen years old. The photographic image conveyed something unrecognizably coquettish in black and white: long hair, head tilted and mouth in a pouty kiss.

I see now how quickly we get lost in the appearance of things, hooked by the illusion of sex for sale, reinforcing the manufactured desire of the viewer.

It became important to cultivate an internal life so that when I ultimately arrived at the invisibility of middle age and beyond, there would be something more than the loss seen in the mirror. But this was a slow and painful learning.

My very brief modeling career soon ended after that experience. I didn’t have what it took to pretend in this way, to completely buy into the dream.

I realized early that my moment as a focus of male attention, and the power this gave, was time limited. It became important to cultivate an internal life so that when I ultimately arrived at the invisibility of middle age and beyond, there would be something more than the loss seen in the mirror. But this was a slow and painful learning.

At 28 and 34 years old I was pregnant, becoming a woman of substance, gaining 65 and 45 pounds respectively. I stopped traffic in the street when crossing, because I believed I was indestructible.

It was a fascinating time. My body was not mine. It did what it wanted and there was freedom in this choicelessness. The body was morphing while these creatures grew inside. I was a temporary accommodation for them. We were symbiotic while they were both inside and out, until they started running away.

Mindfulness and parenting are wonderful ways to develop an inner life. You come to know your experience inside and out.

Lesson Four: Learn to Let Go

Motherhood is a continual process of letting go. It is unfortunate that I didn’t let go of my attachment to my body and its changing appearance when I had that first opportunity.

Varicosities abounded as a result of pregnancy. I had one long, wriggling and twisting vein that traversed my lower leg removed for an obscene price.

In my forties, I started running long and fast away from the Grim Reaper, following my husband who is five years younger than I am, trying to hang on to a youth that was already gone.

I ran four marathons, culminating in Boston in a 90-degree Fahrenheit heat wave. I finished. So many do not. I have perseverance and pacing. I managed to develop a bleeding gut, from dehydration, and a bacteria called campylobacter picked up a month before in Guatemala. It turned my body into a vomiting, excretive, bloody mess. When this healed, I got pelvic cramping whenever I ran more than five kilometers.

Many years have been devoted to the mirror. I sometimes now think of hanging a black cloth over it so I can stop the compulsion to look and mourn the loss of my good looks.

I asked an esthetician friend of mine what she thinks are the best anti-aging products or techniques. She says, “Honey, hold back the hands of time and stop them before they start moving.”

Every day I examine myself through the looking glass and take in each tiny detail—the fine lines around the mouth, the darkening under the eyes, the fat herniation in my eye lids, and the gentle sagging of the jaw.

I asked an esthetician friend of mine what she thinks are the best anti-aging products or techniques. She says, “Honey, hold back the hands of time and stop them before they start moving.”

We could also consider accepting the inevitable. Just let go of hanging on to what is already gone. But we revere our youth and beauty, as do others, for so many reasons. If females need protection, it is much more likely we will get it if we are young, gorgeous, and reproductively viable. We can avoid presenting the reality of sickness, aging and death that we desperately want to ignore. Our culture, unlike some, hates aging and the aged. They are a frightening reminder of our end. We push away what we don’t like. We behave in defiance, avoiding the unavoidable truth: that we are mortal.

We push away what we don’t like. We behave in defiance, avoiding the unavoidable truth: that we are mortal.

I note every wrinkle that has begun to engrave its way into my face and see the effects of gravity over time. I see the development of the estrogen pouch as my waistline thickens. The varicosities increase, and my skin thins. Sunspots creep over my hands. Red dots pop up on my chest and belly. Thank medicine for liquid nitrogen. We can burn a lot away. Hairs sprout from my face.

I make a pact with my friend that she will pull those hairs out of my chin if I am dying in a hospital bed. Why stop then? I see my nails thicken, skin dry, my hair grey, my libido decline.

Lesson Five: Acceptance Is More Helpful Than Resistance

I look good for my age. In that sentence there is the gripping on to that which is passing before my eyes, the need to look makes me feel good. I never tell people to guess my age. What if they are right?

Unable to let go, I hang on with hair colour, tweezing, exercise, vitamins, estrogen, testosterone, vein removal, facials, botox, and filler. I am careful not to cross the line into looking freakish. No duck lips or chipmunk cheeks for me. I want to look natural. To pretend on top of pretending.

A lack of willingness to embrace the impermanence and decline of the body is an expensive practice. Acceptance would be far more skillful than resistance, and this absurd continuous re-modelling of an aging bag. I am still chained to this body and an idea of who I think I am or who I think I should be.

What is acceptance if not resignation? I don’t understand it is not a battle.

Three of my friends are turning fifty. I have three gifts for them. A care kit for the future. These are: a magnifying mirror, Nora Ephron’s I Feel Bad About My Neck, and Larry Rosenberg’s Breath by Breath.

The mirror is such an interesting companion on this journey, and avoidance of its reflection is as much an act of hanging on to your view of self as is the gazing at and manipulation of your image. It can also prevent eye trickery if one can see clearly. The books have two functions. One is for lightening attachment to the body with humour, and the other is an instruction for working with the truth that change can be a friend, rather than the enemy.

I have understood this lesson in acceptance, but there is still the looking glass, and I remain bound to its glitter and my image.

This futile attempt to freeze the march of time on my face and body is the cause of suffering. Intellectually, I know this, but the idea of giving up on my body is currently aversive. The cosmetic surgery business is booming. Women in their 20s and 30s are taking the plunge into myriad injections, surgical removals and implants, spawning a generation of females who are more like Barbie than Barbie herself, with their immobile faces, large eyes, and protruding lips. If only the body were perfect, we would be happy—and yet another part of me knows this is not true.

I have understood this lesson in acceptance, but there is still the looking glass, and I remain bound to its glitter and my image.

I am in my 60s now, still measuring myself against my cohort. I see these bulges of back fat, falling biceps, and increasing fatigue. My bones and muscles, however, carry me lithely and my sight and hearing are still almost perfect. I await the time when I can no longer keep up with the maintenance and am completely unseen. It would be a good time for a second career as a spy.

Alternatively, as an 80-year old woman I knew once said, I could let it all go, “…wake up every morning, look in the mirror and laugh, shake my head, and say, How did I get here?”

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May 4, 2026
On the Other Side of Sadness: Teaching Our Kids (and Ourselves) That It’s Okay to Feel Anything

My six-year-old daughter, Opal, wants nothing more than to go to the Humane Society to visit the dogs that “need the most love.” So we leave right from a half-day of school to do just that, eating almond butter and jelly sandwiches on the way.

The entryway of the Boulder Valley Humane Society smells like wood chips. There is a stack of hamster cages by the front door, placed like intended impulse purchases, like Chapstick and breath mints at Target.

“May I help you?” The pleasant lady behind the counter says with a mouth that is more gums than teeth. I tell her we’d like to visit a dog or two that are especially in need of love.

“Hmmm,” she says, thinking, with a close-mouthed smile. “Yes, Leo could use a visit. He’s big, that ok?”

We have an 85-pound lab at home. I assure her we are accustomed to Big.

We find Leo asleep on a bed in a very large crate with a bone-shaped sign marked “Sweetie pie.” He is a five-year-old pit bull with a face as wide as a loaf of bread and fur the shade of sand. We return to the front room where we wait for a staff person to bring him out.

I notice as we walk through the halls, many—but not all—of the dogs have the same bone-shaped signs hanging from their cages, but with all different descriptions: “Playful!” “Timid.” It occurs to me that the ones without the signs must not be as forthcoming in their nameable characteristics. In my mind I imagine hosting a party in the New Year where I’ll have each guest wear a little sign around their neck that states one of their prominent qualities: People pleaser. Observer. Perfectionist.

Leo busts through the swinging doors, pulling a staff member behind him on a pink leash. This should be an indication of what we’re in for, but I grab the leash anyway and out the front doors we go. Walking this dog is essentially like walking a linebacker who is heading in the opposite direction. I desperately try to keep my footing while he pulls me down a muddy decline and we leave Opal behind, yelling MOM!

Giving this dog love is proving to be an arduous task. So we start to head back towards the building where we came from.

As we walk, I notice the fur is missing from the tops of both of Leo’s ears and there are chalky mushroom-shaped lumps on his skin where the hair should be growing. Same on the backs of his legs. There are pin stripes in his short fur where the hair doesn’t grow, much more subtle than the scars that would have come from the mouth or claws of another animals.

Opal says, “Why does he look like that?”

I tell her it looks like he’s been in a fight with another dog. Harmless enough—animals fight. I don’t say that it looks like he has probably been in dogfights. That he was likely rescued from a rough situation with either an abusive owner or an owner who condoned violence. The kind of scenario that gives pit bulls a bad name. He is horrid on a leash—left both of my hands red and burned from the yanking—but he doesn’t seem to have any fear of or aggression towards people. This, to me, is a marvel.

Upon our return, we catch sight of a man playing with a pit bull puppy, smiling and laughing as the pup climbs into his lap then flops over the side. I can see that Opal wants that experience, so we give Leo a final head-scratch and then ask to trade him in for a puppy.

The Discomfort, the Squirming Away, the Return to Presence

We take one of seven pit bull puppies to a fenced-in area outside. The fresh air and the puppy-energy feel like a relief. He’s as small as a football and slick-black except for his belly and the tips of his paws, which are pure white. Watching him teeter and fumble from point A to point B is pure comedy. Opal is beside herself with delight.

Then she asks the inevitable question: “Can we take him home?”

I tell her no. A puppy is way too much work. They poop and chew on everything. But we can come visit him next week.

“What if he’s gone by then?”

Opal doesn’t say much on the way home. “Blackbird” by the Beatles is playing on the radio—Take these broken wings and learn to fly. I can see her in the rear-view mirror gazing out the window with a million-mile stare.

I tell her that if he’s gone, that would mean a good family adopted him. These puppies would probably get adopted really fast.

Opal doesn’t say much on the way home. “Blackbird” by the Beatles is playing on the radio—Take these broken wings and learn to fly. I can see her in the rear-view mirror gazing out the window with a million-mile stare.

At home, Opal drapes her body over my lap as we sit on the couch. Our huge lab is snoring at my feet. Opal is sniffling and periodically wipes her nose on her sleeve. I caress her hair.

She says, “What if nobody wants to adopt Leo?” Plump little tears pool in the corners of her eyes.

I tell Opal that maybe we shouldn’t return to the Humane Society if it’s just going to break her heart. But that only upsets her more and I quickly realize those words are counter to everything we’ve been teaching her.

We—the Grimes family—have spent the better part of a year as a foster family. And we frequently talk about how we never need to shy away from big emotions, especially when they come as a repercussion of helping others. But it’s such a habit to either tense-up or cower in the face of unhappiness, and to want to shield others from the pain of being human.

“Honey, the Humane Society will find a good home for Leo. And for the little puppy and all his brothers and sisters.”

“But what if the man who adopts them is mean?”

I know there are no shortcuts to getting to the other side of sadness aside from going through it.

“Oh honey,” I say. I am constantly at odds with how much truth to share with her about this crazy, uncertain, often-terrifying-but-also-beautiful-and-miraculous world. I swing back and forth between feeling like I say too much, and not knowing what else to say.

So I return to simply paying attention—to my own thoughts, my own discomfort, my own shallow breath, my own want to talk about happier things—because I know there are no shortcuts to getting to the other side of sadness aside from going through it.

I ask, “Can you take a deep breath with me?”

“Uh-huh.” She is looking up at me now as we inhale and exhale. Choppy, partial breaths at first, then calm and deep.

“Hey, it’s okay to feel sadness, sweetie. Fact is, there is a lot of sadness in the world. We just keep doing what we can. And you did good today, giving love like you did.”

It in that moment, she stands up, gathers herself, and flashes me a tiny but genuine smile as she moves on with her day.

Realizing: It’s Okay to Feel My Own Sadness, Too

Two days later, we take a trip to visit our beloved foster baby of nearly a year who returned to live with her parents three weeks earlier. This baby, we’ll call her Little Blue Eyes.

I’m so pleased to find her looking happy and healthy, very connected to her mother. She has an adorable room with quilts on the walls, loads of toys and books. Their pit bull strangely resembles the one from the humane society, though he is exponentially more calm and civilized.

I didn’t realize it, but many of my feelings of loss had been shuffled in with the hubbub of the holidays and travel. The grief is immediately present when I rest my gaze on her face and hear her say OpalOpalOpal.

All good news. And yet, in spite of the fact that we will likely see her again, it feels as if this visit is a good-bye. Little Blue Eyes went home days before Christmas and I didn’t realize it, but many of my feelings of loss had been shuffled in with the hubbub of the holidays and travel. The grief is immediately present when I rest my gaze on her face and hear her say OpalOpalOpal.

The sorrow feels like fatigue at first, then grumpy over-sensitivity during dinner. Then, later, after Opal is asleep, a torrent of tears comes like a valve has burst behind my eyes. I can’t stop it, though my first inclination is to do just that. My mindful self is telling me that crying is a natural and healthy reaction, and that I can relax with my sadness. But my body—bones and muscles—wants to make the discomfort go away. I am aware of all of this.

I make my way into our bedroom where Jesse is watching TV. He sees my face and says, “Little Blue Eyes?”

I think of how intense these emotions feel to me, a “big strong grown-up,” and I can only imagine how the same vast emotions must feel to my daughter, on the planet only six years and with much less experience in seeing her feelings through to the other side. It’s up to us to show her that emotions are fluid, always in flux.

I nod and lie down next to him. I put my head on his chest the way Opal did with me a few days earlier. His heart is in my ear like a distant drum against my shifting breath. I think of how intense these emotions feel to me, a “big strong grown-up,” and I can only imagine how the same vast emotions must feel to my daughter, on the planet only six years and with much less experience in seeing her feelings through to the other side. It’s up to us to show her that emotions are fluid, always in flux.

“It’s okay to feel sad,” Jesse says to me. “I feel sad, too.”

These are the same words I spoke to Opal when we were on the couch, the same compassionate tone. I sit up and stretch my arms high and to the sides, the sound of inner-movement like a soft rumble deep in the canals of my ears. Some life re-enters my bones.

Those words, “It’s okay to feel sad,” open a window in the tiny, claustrophobic room of emotion I am crouched in. And it isn’t so stifling anymore. This is what happens when I am mindful of not trying to manipulate, hide, or wrestle with my sadness. I can let it roam more freely until, naturally and eventually, it simply dissolves on the back of an unsuspecting outbreath.

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May 2, 2026
Create Inner Balance With A 12-Minute Meditation
Life is never constant. And it can be difficult to remain balanced in the midst of change. Susan Bauer-Wu shares a guided meditation to ground us in the present moment and cultivate equanimity.
With equanimity, we can feel the possibility of balance in our hearts in the midst of life’s ups and downs. It’s a quality that’s both receptive and stable. In short, it’s the opposite of the reactive mind. With equanimity, there’s a feeling of ease and allowing as we ride the waves of change and different experiences. It allows us to be present to suffering and present to joy. It combines an understanding mind together with a compassionate heart. It doesn’t mean we are indifferent or that we don’t care or that we care less, it means we allow life to unfold without any attachments to an outcome or taking things personally. And finally, equanimity is opening to easing into each moment with care and gentleness.

A Meditation to Create Inner Balance in the Face of Change

Read and practice the guided meditation script below, pausing after each paragraph. Or listen to the audio practice.
1. Settle into a comfortable posture. You can close your eyes or simply lower your gaze. Bring awareness toward your body. Notice your breath move through your body, feeling the chest or belly expand with your breath.
2. Take a moment to set an intention for the practice. Perhaps it’s to feel a sense of inner balance and ease. Take in the following phrases or the meaning of the phrases and quietly repeat to yourself: Things are just as they are. I’m safe in this moment. My happiness and suffering depend on my thoughts and actions, not simply upon my wishes. May I feel joy and ease.
3. Notice whatever is present for you right now. Resting in a feeling of OK-ness in this moment, just as it is.
4. Bring to mind someone who you care about and who may be going through a hard time. Extend these phrases or the meaning of the phrases to this person. I care for you yet cannot keep you from suffering. I love you yet cannot control your happiness. Your happiness and suffering depend on your thoughts and actions and not my wishes for you. May you feel joy and ease.
5. Notice how you feel. Notice the raw feeling of whatever is present for you. Sit with it. Just letting it be, right now.
6. Once again, bring awareness to the body, and the breath. Feel the ease of simply being and breathing.
Interested in Meditation? Here Are the Basics

Meditation is a core mindfulness practice that you can customize to meet you where you are, bring your attention to the present moment, and engage in more compassion and connection. Here’s what you need to know to get started. Read More

Eric Langshur and Nate Klemp

May 21, 2021
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April 16, 2026
A Meditation to Allow Genuine Happiness, Even In Hard Times
Accessing real happiness when we are struggling can feel impossible—but it’s also a key to our recovery, healing, and well-being.
When we are going through a difficult season personally, or we are bearing witness to the pain of others, our relationship to genuine joy or happiness can get complicated and confusing. Happiness can feel out of reach, or it can feel like a betrayal, like it’s something we don’t “deserve” in hard times.

But strengthening our ability to notice and soak in moments of beauty, tenderness, connection, and gratitude can actually have a fortifying effect on us. It can help us build resilience and fill our empty emotional tanks—which can foster our own healing and make it possible for us to show up in healing ways for others.

Teacher Wendy O’Leary shares a guided practice to tune our attention to the reality that shimmers right alongside our genuine seasons of struggle.

A Meditation to Allow Genuine Happiness, Even In Hard Times

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

Maybe, like so many, you have wondered, How can I even think about being happy when I’m having such a hard time right now?

Or, How can I be happy when there is so much suffering in the world?

And yet, happiness is not just accessible once basic needs are met, but also essential for our well-being and resilience. We need that resilience both for ourselves when we are struggling and to support others when they are. Both can be true.

Things can be hard and we might also be able to touch some happiness in life. It can’t be forced, so this practice is not an encouragement to push down the hard stuff. Instead, it is a very gentle invitation to also make a little space for the good as you’re able to enhance capacity and wellbeing.

This practice is adapted from Rick Hansen’s practice of taking in the good.
1. Let’s begin by settling into a comfortable position. If it works for you, I invite you to close your eyes.
2. Gently direct your attention to the felt experience of your body. You might feel your feet on the floor, the backs of your legs on a chair or cushion, or where your hands are touching. Direct your attention to wherever you can most easily connect with the experience of the body sitting.
3. Now, gently widen your attention to feel the sensations of the whole body sitting, including the sensations of the body breathing. The invitation here is for a wide, soft and receptive awareness of the body sitting and the body breathing.
4. If difficult emotions or thoughts arise, it’s not a problem. There’s no need to push them aside. Gently acknowledge their presence, maybe even saying to yourself, Oh, unpleasant thoughts or emotions. Then let them drift to the background as you focus on the foreground of the experience of the whole body as we settle in here for a minute.
5. Now, call to mind a time when you felt really happy. It could be a time you felt peaceful or calm, or maybe you felt a sense of contentment, or it could even be a joyful time. If there are a few experiences that are vying for your attention, just pick one for our practice together. There’s no right or wrong choice here.
6. Notice where you are during that experience and who you’re with. Look around and notice what else you see as you remember this experience. You might notice what sounds you hear. Were there any tastes or smells? Just be curious. And what about physical sensations, like the sun on the skin or the feet in sand or even movement, like the body rocking or dancing? Just notice any physical sensations connected to this experience. Take it in with all your senses.
7. Now, let go of the specific experience and just check out for yourself. How does my body feel when you’re happy, peaceful, content or joyful? What’s that like in the body? What’s that like in the mind? What’s like in your heart? You could even say to yourself, Oh, happy is like this.
8. Imagine letting that feeling expand throughout your body. Basking in the experience of happy, letting that grow and expand. You might even say to yourself, This feeling is worth keeping to help your brain remember and access this feeling more easily. Oh, happy is like this and this is worth keeping. Bask in the experience, growing the experience and reminding yourself that it’s worth keeping. Happy feels like this.
9. Remember that happiness isn’t in that specific experience you remembered. It’s in you, and it is accessible. You just have to take a moment to call it up and lean into the felt sense of happiness. Happiness is like this.
10. Before we close, let’s offer some well wishes. May we and all beings be safe. May we and all beings be healthy in body, mind, and heart. May we and all beings be happy, truly happy, peaceful, content, and free. May our practice be of benefit to all beings.
11. As you go through your day, you could set an intention to notice the little moments of happiness, peace, and connection. Stop for at least three breaths to take them in, noticing them with all your senses. Notice how the body feels when experiencing happiness and invite that felt sense of happiness to stick around and even expand in the body, mind and heart.
Thank you for practicing with me.
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April 2, 2026
A Meditation to Skillfully Connect With Your Anger
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 called How 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.
1. 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.
2. 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.
3. 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.
4. 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.
5. 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.
6. 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.
7. 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.
8. 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.
9. 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.
10. 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.
11. 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.
Calm Your Mind with Zindel Segal

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

Zindel Segal

April 11, 2019
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February 3, 2026
Foster Forgiveness With This 10-Minute Guided Meditation
Explore this mindfulness practice to foster forgiveness and let go of the tendency to add to suffering during challenging situations.
Two monks are walking down the road. They arrive at a muddy stream crossing, and a well-dressed woman declares without introduction, “Don’t just stand there. Someone carry me across this mess.“

Without pause, the older monk lifts her across. She says nothing, not even a thank you.

The two monks walk all day. The whole time, the younger one stews in his mind—How could he pick her up? We’re not supposed to touch women, or even talk to them. And she was so rude, someone should say something to her, she didn’t deserve our help.

Finally, arriving at the inn for dinner, he can’t hold himself back. “What were you thinking?” he asks his friend. “She was nasty, and you broke the rules, and she didn’t even say thank you.”

The older monk smiles gently and replies. “Wow, I put that woman down hours ago, but you’ve been carrying her all this time!”

Why We Carry Anger and Resentment

So what does that mean in real life? We make mistakes. Other people make mistakes. We do things to others. Others do things to us. There’s an actual experience that can be trivial or even traumatic. We add to the suffering with judgment, anger, and blame. It’s sometimes referred to as adding a second arrow after being struck by a first. Something unpleasant happens, but then we add more to the experience.

With forgiveness, we make amends when needed but let go of the extra baggage. We give ourselves the same benefit of the doubt we’d offer a close friend.

Forgiveness isn’t the same as condoning ourselves or anyone else for misbehavior. But we so easily hold ourselves infinitely responsible, often for experiences utterly out of our control or from decades past. With forgiveness, we make amends when needed but let go of the extra baggage. We give ourselves the same benefit of the doubt we’d offer a close friend.

On the other hand, we sometimes allow someone else to influence our lives long after they’ve gone in a similar fashion. Another driver cuts us off in traffic, putting us in danger, and then speeds off. The driver arrives at brunch and relaxes, but we make our own coffee break bitter dwelling in our own anger. It’s a concept that holds across larger situations too. Anger and resentment simmer and grow, while compassionate resolve allows us to address what needs addressing without slinging additional arrows.

A Forgiveness Meditation to Let Go of Added Suffering
1. Find yourself a comfortable posture, or take a moment lying on the floor, or a bed.
2. Bring your attention to the physical sensation of breathing, noting whatever is grabbing your attention, or whatever you’re feeling now, and without judgment, bringing your attention back to the rising and falling of your breath.
3. Picture something that comes to mind that you judge yourself for. Maybe you feel regret, or irritation, or sadness. Notice how it feels even bringing it to mind. Then focus on these three phrases, not forcing anything but setting an intention: I forgive myself for not understanding. I forgive myself for making mistakes. I forgive myself for causing pain and suffering to myself and others.
4. Bring your attention back again and repeat the phrases. For a few moments instead of the breath using these phrases as a focus for your attention. This type of practice may become too painful. At any time, without judging yourself, come back and focus on the breath. Allow yourself to settle and return when you’re ready, now or maybe some time in the future.
5. Our mind naturally holds onto instances where we feel mistreated by others. There may be experiences that were entirely wrong or traumatic or that concretely require our attention or action. At the same time, we can practice avoiding the second arrow. I forgive you for not understanding. I forgive you for making mistakes. I forgive you for causing pain and suffering to me and to others. Letting go of the tendency to add resentment and judgment and everything related to challenging and unpleasant situations. Again, if it’s too much to consider, return to breathing, or if you prefer, focusing on compassion for yourself instead.
6. Practices of this kind can be quite challenging, so in these last few moments, on each in-breath, noticing and accepting whatever you feel right now. On each out-breath, as you would for a close friend, offering yourself relief, or freedom, or strength, or whatever first comes to mind.
Forgiveness doesn’t mean being passive or not taking action. It doesn’t mean standing down when we need to protect ourselves or someone else from harm. Do what needs to be done—that might mean taking a pause, settling the mind, and trying to see things as clearly as possible before taking skillful action. Continue to practice forgiveness, over and over again, letting go of whatever holds you back.
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November 18, 2025
Allow the Storm to Pass
In this practice, Scott Rogers guides us to take the role of observer to difficult emotions, so that we can more easily create the space we need to let them go.
Sometimes we can see our intense emotions coming, and sometimes we can’t. Emotions can build up, increasing in strength slowly. At other times, they crash down on us all at once. We can get lost in our emotions, swept up in a feeling. They can be beautiful and they can be scary. In all of these ways, emotions are like storms. As such we need to allow the storm to pass.

Let’s look to different aspects of the hurricane and see how they connect to our own thoughts, feelings, and sensations.

The good news is that we can allow the storm to pass, and so do emotions. With mindfulness, we can practice taking the role of observer to our strong feelings. When we put that space between ourselves and the whirlwinds, we can find stability and cultivate resilience. Scott Rogers leads us in this guided practice with the metaphor of a hurricane to help us recognize the qualities and the impermanence of even our stormiest emotions.

A 12-Minute Meditation for Emotional Resilience
1. We begin this 12-minute mindfulness practice by bringing ourselves into a posture that’s upright and stable. We lower or close our eyes and bring our attention to our body sitting in the chair.
2. As we breathe, we are aware of where our bottom meets the seat of the chair and of where our back meets the back of the chair. We are aware of our feet and where they make contact with the ground, our shoes, or our socks. We are aware of the sensations of the body, of the hands resting one in the other or on our lap. We are aware of the fingertips, the palms, the points of contact, as we begin this practice by coming to our senses as we breathe.
3. At times, things can become intense and quickly turn, much like a hurricane, so this practice will draw upon the metaphor of a hurricane to help us understand our own true nature. It can help us understand the ways that mindfulness practice can be helpful in observing our nature moment by moment. That observation can create spaciousness around the tumultuousness that can arise during the course of our day and at times throughout our life.
4. We take three slow, deep breaths. A little slower and a little deeper than we might otherwise take. Inhale and exhale. Inhale and exhale. Inhale and exhale.
5. The hurricane arises when the conditions are sufficient for it to come together and, in time, it dissipates, much like our own emotional conditions. So, let’s look at a few of the different aspects of the hurricane and see how they connect to our own thoughts, feelings, and sensations, and the spaciousness and ease that we can find with agitated thoughts, feelings, and sensations. In this way, we can allow the storm to pass.
6. There are times when we experience agitation and frustration in the body, much like the strong, gusty winds and heavy rains that feed into the hurricane. We might reflect for a moment on times when we have felt that intensity in the body—that tension, that tightness.
7. Thoughts arise from time to time that can be judgmental, pessimistic, and reactive, like the outflow of high-level clouds that intensify the hurricane as they move away from it. We might take note of thoughts that arise in our mind now, or thoughts that have arisen today, that carry that judgmental, harsh, reactive quality. Just notice these thoughts as we breathe.
8. There are moments we experience intense emotions like anger and fear that are akin to the eye wall, the extreme conditions that form around the eye of the hurricane. You may notice these arising now, perhaps because of the circumstances of the day, or that they arise on a fairly regular basis.
9. And so, too, there are times we experience inner calm, much as is found within the eye of the storm. This is a reminder that we don’t have to have the intense and agitated thoughts, feelings, and sensations go away to find that inner calm, that inner tranquility. By shifting to an observing state, we find freedom from the intensity of those thoughts, feelings, and sensations. It’s like finding our way into the eye of the storm, into a place of our own safe refuge without needing anything to change.
10. Let us settle into the body, aware of thoughts, aware of feelings that will come and go, aware of the sensations in the body, aware of preserving and allowing the breath to anchor us a little bit more fully, to steady us a little bit more comfortably into the moments of this practice. In doing so, we begin to develop and cultivate a resilience to steady us in the moments of our life.
11. Breathe in and out, allowing this moment to be as it is. When, from time to time, the mind wanders, gently return to the sensations of the breath flowing through the body. When you’re ready in the next moment or two, with awareness, lift the gaze, open the eyes.
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August 20, 2025
12 Minute Meditation: Transform Shame Into Self-Trust
Exploring difficult emotions and experiences may be the key to loosening their hold over us. Gentle awareness of our inner world allows us to transform shame in this practice from Patricia Rockman, MD.
Becoming familiar with a difficult emotion means getting interested and curious about the experience, like you might do when visiting a new city. Take it slow, uncovering new “territory” a bit at a time instead of trying to get to know it all at once. As you navigate shame, you learn that you can sit with uncomfortable feelings, and that they will eventually pass. Over time, you develop resilience, self-knowledge, and trust in yourself—the best antidotes to the self-judgment that shame inspires.

Thoughts and feelings are larger and scarier when they’re left unexplored and kept in the shadows.

Whether you’re experiencing feelings of shame right now or have buried shame that you’ve been avoiding, are you willing to get to know it a bit better? Remember, thoughts and feelings are larger and scarier when they’re left unexplored and kept in the shadows.

12-Minute Meditation: Transform Shame Into Self-Trust
1. Take a comfortable meditation posture, eyes closed if comfortable. Begin by bringing attention to the body sitting. Attending to the base of the body as it makes contact with the surface you are resting on. Allowing the jaw to soften, shoulder blades sliding down the back and hands at rest in the lap or on your thighs.
2. Turn your attention to the sensations of breathing at the level of the belly. Attending to the in-breath and the out-breath, the rising and falling of the abdomen. Perhaps letting the breath move in and out of the body naturally, as best you can.
3. And now, gently bringing to mind an experience or memory, a time in which you felt shame. Maybe it was something you did or something that someone else said about you or to you. Whatever it is, turning toward this memory, experience, or situation gently, as best you can, checking in with what thoughts are present, what emotions, and what body sensations.
4. Without needing to change or fix anything, beginning to explore what is arising or what is here right now. If there are specific thoughts, as best you can, experiencing them as sensations of the mind, as events that come and go. If there are emotions, naming or labeling them as they make themselves known. Saying to yourself, “Shame is here,” or fear, anxiety, or guilt, whatever it is, and staying with these for a few moments.
5. And now, shifting your attention to any associated sensations in the body. Investigate these with friendly interest, getting curious about them, even if they’re unwanted or intense, really getting to know them, if that is possible in this moment.
6. If the sensations are particularly intense or strong, saying to yourself, “This is a moment of difficulty. I can be with this, it’s already here.” If it is helpful, breathing into the sensations, expanding on the in-breath and softening on the out-breath, staying with these sensations as long as they are capturing your attention.
7. If this is too difficult or feels overwhelming, there is always the choice to return your attention to the breath at the belly or to open your eyes, letting go of this practice. Otherwise, continuing with this attention to the sensations in the body…
8. And now, returning to the sensations of breathing in the abdomen, to the rising and falling of the belly with each breath, breathing in and breathing out.
9. And when you’re ready, bringing attention to the entire body, to any and all sensations, resting here in a more spacious awareness, if this is available.
10. Then gently, with this shameful experience in the background now, asking yourself: Can I let this be as it is? (It’s already here, after all.) Can I let it go? (It’s already happened.) Does it need addressing? Do I have to take an action? If so, what? Can I shift my attitude, bringing a different perspective to this experience? And then gently opening the eyes if they have been closed and letting go of this practice.
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July 23, 2025