Have you ever had that sinking feeling? You know, the one when you felt like you were coping well with life, happy even, and then – bam! – here comes yet another struggle. You wonder ‘why me?, haven’t I had my share of problems already?’, and ‘what’s wrong with me that I can’t just get happy and stay that way?’.
This can be the point where it’s tempting to give up on mindfulness. When you’re fairly new to it, you might think that if it ‘works’, then you won’t keep experiencing difficulty. It can be disappointing to realise that meditation won’t make all your problems go away. But if you can stick with it for long enough, you learn that your practice is your biggest ally during these tricky times. And in fact, your struggles offer a valuable opportunity to develop a really strong practice.
I had that creeping feeling recently. Suddenly I seemed to be experiencing difficulty in several of my relationships. Thanks to mindful awareness, ignoring it didn’t feel like an option. So rather than pretend I hadn’t noticed, I explored. And I discovered something that had been asking for my attention for a very long time. I hadn’t been ready to feel it fully before, but I was now.
For me, practising mindfulness is like working my way through layers. I started off learning how to be with grief, and as my practice deepened I felt strong enough to work mindfully with anxiety. Sometimes life demands that we become stronger, that our capacity for the unpleasant increases so that we can hold a certain difficulty, and then the next one. This growth can feel painful at times, so it’s important to balance mindfulness with self-kindness, and not rush anything. As we keep practising, we work on one layer at a time, and the deeper layers underneath gradually become exposed.
Recently, I’d begun to feel like all the years of my practice had been building towards uncovering something that lay beneath alot of my other difficulties. What was this hidden layer? In my current practice, it’s that stuff around ‘I’m defective in some way and I’ll be rejected for it’. It’s a very old story, and I know I’m not the only person who feels haunted by feelings that have a flavour of this. I could probably give you the neuroscientific explanation. But that’s not my point. My point is, it’s more difficulty.
Or more opportunity. For learning. For growth. For increased resilience. The way I see it, every difficulty is an invitation to deepen our mindfulness practice.
What had happened in my own practice was that some deeply uncomfortable awareness had arisen. I’d started to see my defense strategies being activated when a particular story is triggered. These strategies may have been helping me to avoid feeling certain things, but I could see how they were also placing a strain on my relationships.
The next step was to investigate – what would it be like to drop those strategies? You guessed it: that icky, uncomfortable feeling would arrive. But I stayed open and present to it, ready to be with what was actually happening in my mind, in my body and in my heart. I would notice a tightness in my throat, a hardness in my back and an ache in my chest. I stayed with those sensations, getting curious about what they really felt like, instead of trying to come up with a thought that would make them go away. With sustained mindfulness practice, I had become ready to face something that I’ve been running away from pretty much my whole life, something lurking at the edge of my consciousness that I didn’t want to feel.
During my sitting practice, I called the situations to mind that were difficult, and I contacted the hurt and fear that were underneath my defensive (or protective) strategies. Instead of keeping these deeper feelings buried under layers of resistance, they were allowed to rise to the surface and be fully known. The more I recognised those old feelings and sat with them, befriending them, the more of a release I felt. I learned that I could acknowledge this part of me without identifying with it. I could see it clearly – a part of me that feared it was ‘wrong’ and felt in danger of being abandoned. But just like feelings of sadness or anxiety, I know it’s not who I am.
To be honest I wasn’t too sure where my practice was going at this point, as it was pretty much uncharted waters. But I’m a great believer in trusting that if we’re willing to really be with our difficulty, the learning we need will unfold. It ended up prompting a deeper dive into self-compassion meditation. At times what I encountered was painful. But it was also healing. Once this vulnerable part of me had been coaxed out into the open, I could embrace it and offer it the love it really needs.
I also realised that this ‘deficient’ story would continue to be triggered in my interactions with others. But instead of wanting to avoid that, I was able to welcome those situations as opportunities to connect with – and care for – this neglected part of me. That was all it wanted after all, to be loved.
The poet Rilke puts it this way: “Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in it’s deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love”.
What I noticed was that the more I got to know this scared, wounded part of me, the more of a positive impact I could see in my relationships. I was even more compassionate with myself, and less defensive when relating to other people. Some relationships that I might have written off in the past have actually evolved in a very healthy way.
If I hadn’t taken my discomfort as a nudge to go deeper, I may never have discovered this new way to be with myself and with others – and I’m so grateful for that. Deepening our mindfulness and self-compassion practice can take great courage, but the impact is profound.
Maybe this has got you thinking about developing your own practice. But I’m not suggesting that you immediately address your deepest, most distressing feelings if you’re new to mindfulness. And I’m not making light of those very painful times in life, for example when our world falls apart due to loss or illness. Sometimes we need more than mindfulness practice alone, whether that’s a good friend or a skilled therapist.
What I am saying is that if you’ve been practising mindfulness for a while and you begin to doubt whether it’s ‘working’, maybe you can trust that you’re just exploring your own layers at a pace that’s right for you. Go gently. Work with what feels ok for you right now. Return to self-kindness practice whenever you meet something challenging.
And be open to the opportunities for growth that our struggles can bring us, eventually.
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Great article. Currently going through this process myself. Was feeling awesome last week and an unexpected illness has sent me down the negativity road again. Mindfulness definitely helps, as it forces us to slow down our thinking and get in touch with what is really there. Thanks for writing this.
You’re very welcome. I’m glad to hear how your practice is supporting you. Yes, in my experience, mindfulness and self-compassion can take us beyond judging our experience as ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Then even strong feelings don’t have to incompatible with a certain kind of contentment and steadiness – we’re not so reliant on things going ‘well’ in our lives in order to feel ok.