So you hate mindfulness?

Last month, the most common search term that brought people to my website was "I hate mindfulness." People click on a lovely essay that my sister, a therapist, wrote about how she used to hate mindfulness. Most of the clickers don’t seem to go deeper and I don't know if they actually read the essay (haven't gotten that far into the analytics).

But It gave me a lot to think about. What exactly do people hate? Is there a way to reframe it so it's not annoying or triggering? What would I say to people who hate mindfulness?

Well, here's my attempt.

Here's what brought me to mindfulness: pain. Simply put. Pain in many forms: anger, anxiety, stress, depression, existential loneliness, tremendous and unidentifiable sadness. It felt like these states of being pursued me like a predator; like they were inescapable, relentless, suffocating.

Around 2005, I stumbled into Buddhist meditation class and here we are. I practice, I teach, I try to bring to others what saved me, and I don't say that lightly.

Has discovering mindfulness made everything better?

Well, yes and no. I'm still a human. I still have hard feelings. Just this morning, I was overcome with rage. But I'm more patient with feelings now. I understand that they will pass, that they won't lead me to jump off a bridge, or to send a nasty text message. They come and they go. They don't define me or say anything about my identity, they are part of my human experience.

I love myself more, even the parts of me that want to rage. And that's no small feat.

There's more joy in my life. And that's not to say there's always more or there’s more everyday. But I have genuine moments of joy, and perhaps more importantly I've learned how to notice the joy-potential moments that were always right in front of me. When in the middle of rehashing an unhelpful mental “story,” I usually know how to gently guide my mind away: to the sensations in the body or the sky above me or a hopeful affirmation.

For the most part, I know how to forgive myself when I screw up. For the most part, I know how to forgive other people when they screw up. Both of these are works in progress, and I forgive myself for not always being the perfect forgiver or the perfect anything... and so should you. We don’t have to be perfect at any of it, including mindfulness or meditation or how we breathe.

In fact, all mindfulness really wants is for us to settle deeper into the human experience instead of running away from it, avoiding it or numbing out. This can feel like a tall order, because it means being with grief, being with anger, being with fear, being with jealousy, being with disappointment… being with the pain we’re trying to escape.

And who wants to spend an afternoon with those "friends?"

So I can understand why you hate it. It hurts. I know it hurts. It can even feel like a waste of time.

But what if more joy and freedom are on the other side of allowing hurt? And what if allowing hurt makes hurt not hurt so damn much? What if as Coldplay says, "sitting with the poison takes away the pain?" (We’re in a Coldplay phase in our house).

Would you not hate it so much?

There’s so much to say about this. So please keep exploring. You can check out the resources I have listed (I recommend the essays at the bottom of the page), see what’s happening at the Mindful Goods or join me for a program.

Fortunately, we live in a world of polarities… and by allowing and accepting hate, from a still and contained place, we clear the pathway to more and more joy. And soon, you too may be saying, “I used to hate mindfulness.”

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December, 2023: a new 5-part course coming: Mindfulness for People Who Hate Meditation. This course will address pain points and offer alternatives. Sign up to the newsletter for updates!