Hello, wonderful members of the OHP. Welcome to your meditation practice.
The lion’s roar, according to Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, is the fearless proclamation that whatever comes up in our state of mind, including powerful emotions, is workable.
Today, I want to continue our discussion about meeting strong emotions in meditation practice. As you may recall, our last newsletter reflected on what it means to simply feel what we feel as opposed to telling ourselves stories about what we feel. I hope the exercise of listening to music together was enjoyable for you.
I created that exercise in preparation for answering this question, received from an excellent OHP member:
Dear Susan,
You have just sent a post dealing with questions new beginners have with meditation.
I have one to add. I have had depression and I would say that I have kept a tight hold on my emotions since my last bout.
I have started to meditate about 10 minutes every other day, and I can literally feel some sadness releasing. I am worried about being overwhelmed with emotions. Should I increase my practise, or just keep steadily going at 10 minutes most days? Perhaps there are no definite answers to such a question but thought I would try anyway.
Many thanks for your help and your really great newsletter,
Best Wishes,
This is a wonderful question and perhaps others of you have noticed both an increase in emotionality and some kind of fear about what you might discover when you sit down to practice.
Before I try to say something helpful, I’d first I’d like to say that if you are working with trauma or mental illness, these suggestions do not apply. Those are different categories and they require special treatment.
One of the key things to remember is that, while it is good to face ourselves, it is not good to push ourselves or force ourselves. Being lackadaisical about your inner state is not helpful, but nor is it helpful to be aggressive in any way.
My suggestion for meeting strong emotion in practice is this, and I’m stealing it from Pema Chodron. It’s radical, so you might want to sit down.
The way to meet even your strongest emotions is to feel them–but drop the story around them. In other words, if you’re angry, feel what it feels like to be angry. Where does it live in your body? Is it hot? Icy? Does it make you feel pinned to the ground or shot into space? In other words, feel the textures of this particular bout of anger. But there is no need to create a narrative out if it: “I’m angry because she called me x and I do not deserve that.” “I’m angry and to expel this, I have to confront him.” “If only he would do x, I wouldn’t feel y.” And so forth.
I’m not saying that you shouldn’t analyze or try to understand what you feel. However, when you try to do from within the midst of the feeling, it is likely your judgment will be impaired. Further, and more importantly, this–crafting narratives out of emotion–is actually what creates the pain that hurts the most. Feeling the feelings, even though it can be quite unpleasant, is actually a more expeditious path, one that opens your heart at some point. The story is almost always an effort to close our hearts and it is quite draining. But when we open to our experience, we gain strength.
I would also like to say that you possess great intelligence, and whatever you feel also possesses intelligence. I don’t mean that your feelings are messages from beyond or signs from the universe. I simply mean that what you feel is alive, sparky, and, while perhaps unpleasant, is an indication of your humanity and ability to feel. That ability is synonymous with intelligence.
The final thing I’d like to say is that it is always good to look under our most potent emotions: fear, anger, frustration, and so on, which seem wild and crazy.” When you peak beneath these feelings, what you most often find is sadness, which is soft and workable. So please find your sadness and be kind to yourself about whatever gave rise to it.
So if you’re fearful of strong emotion and feel that if you let a little bit of it in, you will be flooded beyond your capacity, the truth is, there are no guarantees. There is no neat way to work with chaos and intensity. However, there is also nothing to be ashamed of. The path of emotion is also the path of wisdom, humanity, and gentleness.
I hope this is useful and I invite your comments and questions.
Good luck!
Please practice!
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This is a huge deal for me in my practice. The thing that comes up most strongly for me is terrible fear, almost panic. I try to just breathe into it, but I am shocked at its depth. It doesn’t seem to have sadness under it so much as deep attachment. I mean the fear seems sort of loose and not attached to anything, but if I had to say what it is fear of, it is fear of death, fear of loneliness and aloneness, and fear of impermanence itself. It’s really hard for me that every time I start to develop a practice, I end up having to face this huge existential terror. Maybe that is the point of practice? I don’t know, but I’m a little baffled by it. I’m trying to just breathe through it, but it has become a kind of obstacle for me.
Oh, Eli. This sounds so intense and difficult. It would be really, really good for you to work directly with a meditation instructor. Do you live near a Shambhala Center? You can request an MI and it is free. We all have the same training. This is the kind of thing best spoken about 1:1 with an actual person.
Is it possible you might seek this?
I don’t know that this is the point of practice, but I also don’t know that it isn’t. However, it does sound like you’re approaching an edge that is very sharp and very deep.
And in the meantime, please be very gentle with yourself. Tiptoe into the fear when it arises. Feel into it only as much as you can tolerate and then back off. Label it “thinking” and return attention to breath. I’m not suggesting you ignore it, more that you “touch” it with your attention and then let it go.
Please do keep me posted.
When I wrote this post, I was in Reykjavik — but I just returned to my home in Los Angeles, which is very very near a Shambhala center I have visited before. I’m going to contact them now. Thank you for the suggestion — what a good and simple solution.
Excellent!
These kind of very intense emotions can be worked with in a body-centered therapy approach like Hakomi, or a bodywork method like breathwork or Ortho-bionomy. I wouldn’t take them all on yourself on the meditation cushion. They are usually the result of early childhood trauma or attachment wounds, which lodge in our neurological system and have to be addressed at that level. When I say trauma or wounding, it might not be something dramatic that you remember…some things that don’t seem significant can be so to a baby, depending on temperament and other conditions. It doesn’t really matter what happened, it matters that whatever that experience was, it got lodged in your limbic system so it comes up strongly when you drop into experience of your body (which meditation does). You can get the appropriate remedy from someone who works at that level of the body/mind connection.
One quick method I’ve learned for when you are in it is to broaden your vision so you are aware of your peripheral vision. My friend calls it “Owl Eyes”. It calms the nervous system. Another technique is to “bite-size” the sensations – so, let yourself feel it for awhile, in mindfulness, and then bring yourself back to feeling the cushion under your butt, the temperature of the air in the room. Learn to go back and forth from that edge, that will begin to help you manage the overwhelm.
Emma — are you familiar with Feldenkrais work? This is something I was planning to look into for other reasons, but I wonder if it is applicable here as well.
As a clinician I thank you for making note of the difference between “garden variety” strong emotions vs those rooted in trauma or other mental conditions. So many of the clients I work with report that they’d tried without success to find relief and comfort from extreme anxiety, depression, trauma from self-help books, yoga, meditation, etc., only to feel more overwhelmed and without relief. Thank you for underscoring the importance of treatment. At the same time, so many of these clients, once treatment is underway, find enormous support from meditation such as the one you offer here, yoga, and other complementary practices. I notice a marked improvement in the effectiveness of the therapy work when a client is willing to add practices such as these. Much appreciate your making meditation practice so accessible to so many.
Mary Ellen, the points you bring out are well-taken. Sometimes meditation can actually be harmful. There has to be some basic level of mental stability. And it makes total sense to hear that as an adjunct to treatment, meditation can be useful–but not all by itself.
It is good to know we practice together!
Thanj you for this post and for the reminder that there can be so many layers to our experience. It is sometimes difficult for me to let go if the narrative I call the “cinema of the mind” because it is so ingrained. What is not natural is to remember to have that gentle drop of kindness toward myself. It’s so difficult to reverse the order of these two… many times the gentleness doesnt come until I have exhausted myself from the story line. Thank goodness for that.
It really does seem that cultivating gentleness toward ourselves is so difficult. And so important.
Thank you Susan, for this helpful post. I’d like to offer a couple of thoughts that may be relevant.
First, I remember always something the Dalai Lama said in a talk I attended – that underneath anger there is often a sense of injury. Indeed, anger is a protective response to injury. But when we examine that feeling of injury, we usually find that we are not actually hurt. As he put it, ask yourself where is the injury? I have found this valuable in defusing anger and getting to what is real many times.
Second, I picked up somewhere the idea of becoming an observer of yourself and your feelings. To be in the midst of powerful feelings and then to put your attention slightly outside yourself, as though you were able to hover over your own shoulder and witness yourself and the feeling with some separation. Again, a way of realizing that feelings are something going on inside you – that you are not your feelings.
Perhaps not easy to do in the heat of the moment, but I hope these ideas might help someone else as they have me.
Colin, these ideas are helpful indeed. Thank you so much.
Hi Susan,
In your post, you say: “When you peak beneath these feelings, what you most often find is sadness, which is soft and workable.” What if, when you peek beneath your feelings, you don’t find a soft and workable sadness but a potent, overwhelming sadness? The kind of sadness, that like Eli mentions, is linked to fear. A sadness that is bold and dark and dense and threatening? I have suffered trauma and I know my sadness is related to that, related to an experience of obliteration.
These feelings are so powerful, so fearful for me that I have struggled to be able to sit in meditation, lately. I realise you are not a therapist but I wonder – is it wise to sit in meditation when the feelings are so strong? Is there a way to approach them, or be with them, that might encourage that discovery of a soft and workable sadness, rather than an overpowering, terrifying sadness?
I am longing to sit in meditation again but I am so afraid, afraid of losing myself to that sadness and not being able to climb back out again.
Thank you for your thoughts and the incredibly generous work you do with OHP, Kate
You bring up an excellent point, Kate. It is not always wise to sit in meditation with certain feelings. Certainly not all sadness is merely melancholic, sometimes it is just as you say: very, very dark. Sadness of that kind is definitely a good thing to bring to a therapist and, if possible, to a personal meditation instructor. (Shambhala Centers provide them for free and we’ve all had the same training.)
In the meantime, I can say that meditation is not for everyone or may not be right in certain circumstances. It can intensify and bring up situations that one would need help to deal with. Also, we may try to apply meditation when it simply cannot be helpful. For example, for some years I suffered with panic attacks. People would say to me, “but you’re a meditator!! Can’t you just meditate your way through it?” To which I would reply with a resounding “no freaking way.” When you’re hyperventilating, crying, sweating, and so on,it’s not a great idea to try to force the meditation technique on yourself. The time for meditation (and contemplation of the circumstance) comes later. For me, my meditation did not help me to stop the panic attacks once they started, but it gave the strength and stability of mind to examine it.
We each have to judge for ourselves when to try to face our darkest feelings and when to refrain from doing so. In any cae, don’t make a theoretical decision about what you “should” do. Simply practice and see what does or does not arise. Then determine how to relate to it.
Above all, remember that trauma is a special category and deserves special care. And above above all–be gentle with yourself.
Phew, that was long winded. Hope it spoke to your concerns.
I have to chime in with a quote from a book I’m sure you know. From TURNING THE MIND INTO AN ALLY by Sakyong Mipham: “Sometimes neither letting go nor dismantling works. We’re too traumatized to use intelligence or logic, or to recognize and release…. In this case we need to calm down and relax. The best thing might be to get involved in a soothing activity: go for a walk, take a shower, read a book, talk to a friend, watch a movie…. Knowing when we can meditate in honest meditation.”
I usually go for an episode of Ugly Betty on Netflix streaming.
And I turn to Project Runway.
Thanks for this helpful reminder…
I hope I’m not sounding too mystical here, but it seems that every time I am struggling with something internally, you present a post that addresses my main concern at the time. How are you doing that? Ha.
Long story, short, since I was a kid, I had a sense that I would be a writer. Though I write, I have never “been” a writer, with published works and all. Now, I am actively working on that. Struggling to find a direction, I read a recommendation to write about my life. While I certainly have some fun stories I could write about, I have purposely avoided writing about my life because I didn’t want to face the past pain. I didn’t want to relive it all by writing about it. I thought about only writing about the good times, but realistically, delving into the past is going to bring up the bad as well.
Though your post is directed towards emotions during meditation, I feel like writing is a form of meditation for me and thus, can apply your wonderful perspective on how to deal with the emotions that are bound to surface while writing. I have “known” that this was going to be something that I was going to have to deal with, but I kept hoping to avoid it. Now, I have a way to do it…Thank you!! (Still won’t be easy, though.)
Hee! Glad we are on the same wavelength.
I share your experience of writing as meditative and indeed it shares so many qualities with the formal practice of sitting meditation. Though one can’t take the place of the other, they do seem to require many of the same skills and bear the same fruit.
Wishing you well in both practices!
Susan, what a wonderful, wonderful post, and how great to see that everything I came to say is already in the responses! I entered traditional therapy for depression and anxiety over a year ago, and have been balancing that therapy, as well as medications, with meditation, very carefully. This has been complicated further by the release of trauma memories much bigger than my therapist and I anticipated. I second Emma and Mary Ellen, and to Kate and Eli, I would highly recommend seeking a therapist, explaining to them what is happening to you in meditation, and seeing how that feels. If you are comfortable with the therapist, and their approach, continue on. I would add, that it is always, always a choice how far you would like to go to unearth and process trauma, and a good therapist will honor that. I can tell you from my experience, that if you are experiencing deep, panicky fear, even if it seems existential, it is probably attached to something that counseling can dig up and heal, and that if you are seeking your true self, that process will give you incredible answers. Meditation has been helpful to me in 2 ways: in learning to create a safe place to get in touch with those emotions, and also in learning a way of breathing and riding out panic attacks that occur outside of my safe places. I absolutely think that if you are willing to get to the root of fear in your body, meditation and therapy together will be most effective and safe. Good luck to you all, and thanks again to everyone for their thoughtful and kind words on this site. SO so helpful.
Kathryn
I’m so glad meditation has been helpful to you, in conjunction with therapy. It is wonderful you’ve been able to face and transform your pain to any degree. Thatntakesnso much courage. And I appreciate that you mention trauma and I’d like to say again that trauma is in it’s own category. In my experience, the activity takes place in a pre-verbal part of our being and needs special care. Which I’m glad you sought and took advantage of!
I meditated for a long time, and did a lot of training programs too, before I heard a teacher mention that frequently our emotions get more painful when we start practicing, rather than becoming less so. She used the analogy of having a messy closet. One day the mess becomes so overwhelming that we decide we must take everything out and deal with it, (e.g. start practicing) and when we put stuff away or throw it out, the closet is workable, but for a while, the room is a bigger mess. So, essentially, it is “normal” to feel “worse” when we start practicing, but the ultimate result is a more useful closet/mind.
I hope this helps!
That is a great analogy.
Susan, thank you so much once again for sharing. Each time I read an email or watch one of the clips you post I feel you talking authentically and directly from the heart to the heart.
I am working on my own practice, day by day and your contribution is most gratefully recieved.
It is so lovely to know this.
Adam, thanks, I love the analogy. Cleaning out the closet!
Rannoch
Wow, this post is so full of wisdom and compassion I want to take it in, and then take it in some more… Thank you for this gentle guidance on how to move through the scary stuff and what accompanies it.
You are so welcome, Maggie!
Susan,
I hope that you continue in the vein of emotions and the depth with which meditation works with them. I respond viscerally to the posts above as I can directly relate with great intensity to the place that Eli and others are at. For many years I have thought that emotions were not only unnecessary but only damaging. Now I am beginning to understand what they are for and that they can be valuable teachers. With many years of therapy, medication, learning and applying breath control to stay here in my body, I am finally in a place where meditation is possible. I cannot tell you how important your Open Heart Project has been to me!
Your consistent reminder to be gentle with ourselves is enormously powerful. Numerous times your reminder to be gentle, just say to myself thinking and gently let it go, has been a game changer for me. It has taken great effort to get to this point and I hope others will find this place too. Blessings to all of you for sharing and thank you Susan.
Terrie, I am so glad to hear that the OHP is useful for you. This makes me very happy, It is wonderful to practice together. With love, Susan