Make It Personal: How Mindfulness Can Support Highly Stressed People

Many have heard of trauma-sensitive therapies, including mindfulness—but the science and practical uses of these modalities are not always clear, especially to the people who need them the most.

This is where Gina Rollo White brings her passion for mindfulness to the table. Years of experience and research into the benefits of mindfulness for first responders and veterans became the foundation of her curriculum, called Tactical Brain Training®, and her recently published book, Tactical Brain Training: A Guide to Trauma and Stress Management for First Responders and the Professionals Who Support Them.

In this Q&A with Mindful editor Amber Tucker, Rollo White talks about her own journey of adapting mindfulness practices to support people facing high stress and trauma, and why it’s key that you don’t try to fit yourself into a specific box, an idea of what mindfulness “should” be. Instead, you can tailor your practice to give you what you really need during intensely challenging moments.

Amber Tucker: First, can you tell us about your work through Mindful Junkie Outreach?

Gina Rollo White: Walking into any room today, pink mohawk-clad, and asking people to close their eyes and meditate can be a lot for participants to take in. Now imagine doing that 15 years ago—and not just any room, but walking into a police department, fire station, jail, or veterans’ retreat—still pink mohawk-clad—and asking people to close their eyes and meditate. Well—turns out it was completely dysregulating for everyone. But I kept trying anyway (even changing my hair color to see if that helped—it didn’t—ha).

After countless false starts, mishaps, mistakes, and a ton of funny stories, I refined my approach and founded the not-for-profit Mindful Junkie Outreach in 2015. The “Mindful” part is obvious. “Junkie” came from a friend who said, “You’re obsessed with mindfulness—you should be Mindful Junkie.” It fit, and I was sold.

Mindful Junkie Outreach provides specialized programs supporting first responders and veterans (à la therapeutic mindfulness) in managing the stress that comes with the job. At a high level, one of the goals of creating Mindful Junkie was to support the de-stigmatization of stress and trauma in the first responder and veteran communities. The idea was to offer culturally appropriate, relatable tools for managing reactions, noticing impulses, and working through emotions—both on the job and at home. I wanted to equip first responders, veterans, and clinicians with approachable mindfulness interventions to enhance safety, health, and emotional regulation for those who serve our communities.

AT: How did you become interested in teaching mindfulness to veterans and first responders?

GRW: As the daughter of two first responders, I had a deeply personal connection to this work. My first glimpse of the toll chronic stress takes came from watching how it showed up in my parents’ lives—professionally and at home. Behind closed doors, when we should have been winding down as a family, there was no downtime. My parents carried their vigilance from the job straight into our evenings. That early exposure to chaos gave me a unique perspective on the challenges faced by those who dedicate their lives to public service.

That early exposure to chaos gave me a unique perspective on the challenges faced by those who dedicate their lives to public service.

It was the quiet whimpers behind my mom’s closed door that first clued me into her suffering. It was my father’s uncontrollable outbursts—often violent—that gave me insight into what dysregulation and an inability to control emotions look like. And it was my eventual research on cumulative stress in first responders and veterans that highlighted a critical divide between stress and self-regulation for those working in high-stress environments.

We train our responders to run toward danger and solve problems. Here’s the divide, the missing link: We don’t train them to manage the effects of trauma. When I realized this gap existed, I started asking questions like: How can we address this in a trauma sensitive way? What would resonate with first responders? Does cultural competence play a role in adopting practices?

Years later, while pursuing my master’s degree in Mindfulness Studies at Lesley University, I explored the connections between trauma, the brain, and emotional regulation. That’s when I realized the incredible potential mindfulness could have on first responders who experience sleep deprivation, high exposure to violence, and frequent physical injuries, by actually mitigating stress and changing the brain. This realization sparked a passion to create something tailored specifically for first responders and veterans.

AT: Mindfulness is often seen as a one-size-fits-all practice. Why might first responders, veterans, and other highly stressed groups need a different approach in order to benefit?

GRW: Stress and trauma, unfortunately, are byproducts of these professions. Something that stood out early on in conducting the trainings was how differently people experience stress. This fascinated me. For example, one paramedic might see a barking dog as a chance to soothe it, while another sees it as a trigger—a sign to back off and avoid getting bitten. What stresses one person may not affect another. There’s no one-size-fits-all equation.

Over the last decade of working with first responders and veterans, I’ve witnessed this variance repeatedly. Everyone relates to chaos differently. I’ve provided support during critical incidents, in the quiet moments in between, and after the dust has settled. If I’ve learned one thing, it’s that there’s no universal reaction. If you asked for my biggest takeaway, I’d say this: Whether you’re a mindfulness educator, a clinician, a newbie to mindfulness, or a seasoned meditator, don’t try to be the expert—be curious. Asking thoughtful questions goes much further than simply thinking or saying, “Just breathe.”

Don’t try to be the expert—be curious. Asking thoughtful questions goes much further than simply thinking or saying, “Just breathe.”

In fact, focusing on the breath isn’t always helpful. It can even be unsettling or triggering in some situations, which is why it’s so important to adapt mindfulness practices to each audience. For those in law enforcement, deep breaths can be difficult while wearing a bulletproof vest, so I offer Square Breathing as another option, which focuses on a more shallow, balanced breath. Many veterans and people working in Corrections prefer to keep their eyes open during meditation, since closing them can feel unsafe, given their training to stay vigilant.

Mindfulness interventions work best when tailored to the individual. What helps a firefighter might not resonate with a police officer. What works for a veteran may not work for a paramedic. There is no one way to be mindful.

The curriculum, Tactical Brain Training® (TBT) was developed with this in mind. TBT combines mindfulness interventions with self-assessments to create personalized approaches based on each person’s unique needs and experiences. Whether someone is dealing with sleep issues, anxiety, or trying to switch off after a tough shift, the TBT approach teaches them to identify what’s happening and introduces mindfulness interventions that work for them personally. The goal isn’t to change someone or force them into some perfect “mindful” box. It’s about offering practical tools to support their individual path—both on and off the job.

AT: People may read that and think, ‘Oh, I’m not a first responder or a police officer, so that doesn’t apply to me.’ How would you explain this idea for other people who may still be navigating high stress or trauma in their life?

GRW: I get this question a lot. Stress (and unfortunately trauma as well) is real for a ton of people, regardless of their profession—or even their age. My daughter came home from school one day and told me she was really stressed about an art assignment. My initial thought was, Just paint the darn picture and be done with it. How could this possibly be stressful? It’s just paint on paper. But then she explained that the assignment felt vague and ambiguous, and she’d much rather do math than art. “In math, there’s a right answer and a wrong answer—no gray areas,” she said.

As we talked, I started thinking back to my own high school experience with math. (Side note— just the memory of doing a math assignment got me worked up and stressed, even though I wasn’t actually doing any math in that moment. Food for thought: Just thinking about something can cause a stress response, even without the actual stimulus.) That’s when I had an epiphany related to trauma and mindfulness. I was contemplating the idea that two people can share the same experience but feel completely different about it. Art stressed her out; math stressed me out. Same situation, different reactions. (And for the record, I wasn’t even good at art!)

This reminded me how personal our emotional responses to experiences are. What stresses me out might not stress you out—and vice versa. If stress is personal (and here’s the big “aha” moment), then it makes sense that the strategies to regulate stress would also need to be personal. This reinforced my research that different populations and individuals require their own unique approaches.

When adapting mindfulness interventions for someone who has experienced trauma or lives in a constant state of stress, it’s critical to make the point of personalization blatantly clear during a training. There is no “right” or “wrong” response—it’s personal. Framing it this way helps people open up to experimenting with different approaches and figuring out what resonates with them. This often sparks conversations like this:

“Sure, maybe focused breathing makes you feel claustrophobic. That’s okay! It’s not a problem at all. Now that you’ve identified that, you can pivot to something else, like a listening intervention. It’s all about options. Closing your eyes feels uncomfortable? No problem—keep them open. A body scan leaves you feeling agitated? That’s fine too. Acknowledge the discomfort, congratulate yourself for noticing it, and then try something else. Or simply sit with the discomfort and observe it, give it a name. By doing so, you start building a connection between your mind and body. You’re training your brain to notice discomfort, tolerate it, and recognize that you have tools to help neutralize your nervous system.”

If stress is personal (and here’s the big “aha” moment), then it makes sense that the strategies to regulate stress would also need to be personal.

Phew—that was long-winded, but you get the point. The bottom line is this: We need to demystify the idea that there’s only one way to practice mindfulness. Instead, we should offer options—lots and lots of options.

AT: Speaking of options, let’s talk more about Tactical Brain Training. What shaped your process of developing this program?

GRW: Traditional mindfulness approaches often don’t resonate with these populations, so I designed TBT to talk-the-talk and walk-the-walk. It’s about delivering practical, no-nonsense tools that can be applied in high-stress situations, whether on the job or at home. My goal has always been to equip individuals with strategies to manage stress, process trauma, and maintain emotional well-being. Teaching people to train their brains as tactically as they train their bodies makes the stress and trauma associated with these professions a bit more manageable. This helps keep individuals safer, healthier, and more emotionally regulated—both at work and at home.

My journey—from my personal experiences with my parents to academic research, to countless false starts—shaped my approach to mindfulness training for veterans and first responders. And honestly? What I do never really feels like a job (except the marketing part—ugh, that definitely feels like work). It’s a passion that runs deep in my bones: supporting those who put their lives on the line for our communities every day.

To be clear, I didn’t invent anything new here. These mindfulness interventions have existed for centuries and have been refined over time with modern science. All I did was adapt these proven approaches into a system that resonated with me. When I developed the TBT curriculum and wrote Tactical Brain Training, it naturally reflected my upbringing: physical, crass, and a little rambunctious. I wasn’t naturally mindful, nor was it part of our family’s world—far from it. But through years of practice, I trained my brain to be tactically mindful. My approach is grounded in what works for me: physical, straightforward, and unapologetically off-color.

If it worked for someone like me, I crossed my fingers it could work for others who might be skeptical about traditional mindfulness practices. When you go through the Tactical Brain Training program or read the book, you’re getting mindfulness stripped down to its practical core. It’s mindfulness for people who never thought they’d be into mindfulness. I don’t relate to “Take a nice, long, soothing breath.” But I do relate to “Just f’ing breathe.”

So now, if you see my hashtag #JFB, you’ll know exactly what it stands for: Just F’ing Breathe.

AT: What is the most surprising or little-known fact you have learned about trauma and mindful trauma recovery that you want to share with the world?

GRW: I had been training first responders for about three years when I started noticing patterns—connections between certain mindfulness interventions and specific populations. I typically bring chimes to my trainings (well, when I remember them—ha). I use them when introducing and practicing Listening Interventions.

One day, while monitoring the room, after I rang the chimes, by the third chime I noticed that the percentage of those agitated seemed higher than an average class. I became curious about how the sound of chimes affects first responders, so I began paying closer attention to see if certain groups reacted differently. (All of this is anecdotal, not peer-reviewed—but hey, if anyone wants to study it, give me a call!)

It’s crucial to overtly tell people that it’s normal to feel triggered, stressed, or anxious. Experiencing these emotions doesn’t mean you’re broken—it means you’re human.

What I observed was that individuals in Fire Services tended to show more agitation when I rang chimes (not sounds in general, just chimes and singing bowls) compared to other first responders. One day, mid-training, I stopped ringing the chimes, asked everyone to open their eyes, and blurted out, “What the f@#k—why is everyone so agitated when I ring these?” They all looked at me like I was clueless.

“Duh,” one of them said, “when the bell goes off in the fire station, it means there’s an emergency. Get your gear on and get out the door as fast as you can!” They explained that the number of bells indicates the scale of the emergency. So, essentially, the sound of chimes had become associated with urgency, emergencies, and often impending chaos or gore. In other words, NOT very calming—and definitely not an anchor for balancing the nervous system.

That was surprising, but here’s what really blew my mind: Name it to tame it actually works. I found that if I say upfront, “This sound might be agitating for some of you,” and explain why, it not only normalizes the experience but also reduces the overall agitation in the room.

The reality is that triggers are everywhere. The street corner where CPR was performed last month. A house that looks like one that burned down last week. The backfire of a car that sounds like a gunshot. A smell that brings back memories of a murder scene. The list is endless. But simply identifying a trigger—even if it’s just saying to yourself, “This is a trigger”—can make a significant difference in becoming dysregulated.

One of the most surprising and transformative facts I’ve learned about trauma and mindful trauma recovery is this: It’s crucial to overtly tell people that it’s normal to feel triggered, stressed, or anxious. Experiencing these emotions doesn’t mean you’re broken—it means you’re human. Once this is acknowledged and normalized, it opens the door to creating a plan to manage these feelings. It’s not necessarily about “recovering” in the traditional sense; it’s about learning to be with discomfort and finding a way through it. Simply acknowledging what’s happening in the moment—whether it’s trauma, irritation, or stress—can create a powerful mind-body connection that helps balance the nervous system. True progress involves recognizing what you’re experiencing, normalizing it without judgment, and then pivoting to a strategy that feels personal and effective for you. This approach shifts the narrative from feeling overwhelmed to feeling empowered, offering a way to navigate stress and trauma with intention and resilience.