Our Practice Starts With Ourselves—But It Doesn’t End There

The dog just ate a block of cheese off the coffee table. The neighbors are throwing a loud party when you want to relax quietly at home. And also, they didn’t invite you. Your daughter has 3rd grade math homework and her school is teaching math using a fantastical model so convoluted you cannot see how to teach her why six times six is thirty six. And your partner has a wonderful new job that keeps them at work until long after dinner needs to be on the table every night. And cleaned up. And the kids put to bed. Plus, outside your four walls, politics seem broken and the environment seems broken and health care seems broken, and what in the world are we thinking releasing AI into the universe the way we are, doesn’t anyone have any common sense at all?

We cannot fix and change all of the things. We cannot stop our thoughts. We cannot even make ourselves relax. But we can build traits that support staying grounded, wise, and intentional.

We cannot fix and change all of the things. We cannot stop our thoughts, and don’t really want to. We cannot even make ourselves relax. But we can, if we choose, build traits that support staying grounded, wise, and intentional—traits that let us stay in touch with a sense of care and compassion, too.

This, of course, is why we actually practice mindfulness. 

This is also why our practice starts with ourselves. Life, you probably have noticed, tends to push us into a state of distraction, reactivity, and mindless habit. We’re so swamped we’re barely paying attention, we’re saying the things we always say, and believing the thoughts and stories we’ve always believed.

Making Room for Clarity

Practicing mindfulness begins, then, as a way of returning to clarity. Allowing for all of our imperfections, we do our best to return to seeing objectively, through a lens of compassion, what’s happening in real time, in real life. 

When our practice makes it possible to more fully immerse ourselves in nature or activities or time with people we appreciate, this supports our happiness directly. It also permits us to stay resilient and think flexibly during challenging times. 

So here are some simple examples in daily life. 

Through our practice, we gain an ability to notice and feel genuine gratitude for all the “little” things in life that are good and beautiful—things that otherwise might escape our awareness entirely when we are in autopilot mode. We might start to notice what’s working a little more often, rather than falling into the rut of our negativity bias; we might be able to relax into a sense of our belonging and worthiness; and we might be able to get enough clarity to ask for what we need in a moment of confusion or exhaustion, rather than simply letting unexpressed resentment build.

Over time, this practice that starts with ourselves carves a new path forward, helping us navigate whatever reality we face. As we begin to shift how we notice and respond, the ripple effect becomes clear.

In addition to strengthening our well-being, our practice also builds a kind of mental and emotional fortitude that can allow us to move through the inevitable moments of difficulty, disappointment, and heartbreak that come with being human. We might start to see that failing is a part of learning, not an indictment on our character or our value; we might be able to give ourselves the time and space to grieve losses, rather than trying to push through; and we might be able to find more compassion for others in their imperfection, as well. 

Over time, this practice that starts with ourselves carves a new path forward, helping us navigate whatever reality we face. As we begin to shift how we notice and respond, the ripple effect becomes clear.

Looking at Our Daily Choices

We can turn this perspective toward our lifestyle. We get busy, fall into autopilot, and develop health habits that may or may not be to our best benefit. We prioritize how we spend our time in ways that may or may not support our wellbeing. Periodically checking in with that same sense of objective, compassionate awareness, we can make adjustments. After all, the cutting edge of happiness and wellbeing research returns to the reality that choices around sleep, exercise, time in nature, and time off screen support our mental health.

Someone in our meditation group recently said, “In order to speak up, I have to breathe first.”

Someone in our meditation group recently said, In order to speak up, I have to breathe first. We get lost in our thoughts, or maybe instead, our inner critic shuts us down. We choose not to speak up. Mindful practices of all kinds can be a bridge toward taking action, sharing our wisdom, or standing up for a cause.  Literally or metaphorically, we take a breath, settle, and find the confidence to say or do what’s needed.

In the end, we don’t practice just to feel better ourselves. We practice because it brings us back to our own best intentions, wisdom, and care. We practice because in the midst of all the things, it allows us to stay connected, and skillful. And that benefits everyone around us.

Dr. Bertin has been a longstanding contributor to Mindful as a researcher, writer, and meditation teacher. He is our Teacher of the Month for September. You can find all his articles and guided practices here.

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