Why Mindfulness Begins with Noticing, and How That Leads to Real Change.

Photo by Zoltan Tasi

One of the questions I hear a lot when people begin practicing mindfulness is, “Why are we just noticing thoughts? I don’t want to notice them; I want them to stop.”

It is a fair question. If certain thoughts, body sensations or emotions are repetitive, harsh or painful, it can feel like we are doing nothing about them when the mindfulness instructor says, “No need to change anything, simply notice.” While simply noticing actually does soften quite a bit of the harshness of our experience, it is essentially a first step, because the question “Then what do we do with all this stuff we are noticing??” is an important one.

Whether you have struggled with this question or are new to mindfulness, the following are some thoughts on this aspect of the practice and the process of how learning to train our attention in certain ways can support us to make sustainable shifts.  

Becoming aware of what is already here

Many of us have experienced something unpleasant in our lives, and very quickly we have found ourselves overtaken by physical reactions, emotions, an anxious thought loop or even acting in ways that are not helpful. On the surface it might look like a letdown, a worry, or what feels like a “two-year-old me just grabbed the wheel” moment. Underneath it all, there is a whole process running in the background that often goes undetected: a thought, a bodily reaction to that thought, emotions that arise, all seemingly out of control. Our default programming is generally set to ‘unaware’.

When we begin to practice mindfulness, we essentially train that muscle of awareness so that it becomes more of our default way of being. When we meet each moment with mindful awareness, what was previously shaping our experience from the background starts to come into view. We can notice thoughts, emotions, body sensations, and impulses to act, sometimes in real time. This can feel surprisingly new, even though all of it has been there all along.

Sometimes we don’t like what we see, which can make the practice difficult if we don’t train in some important attitudes. In our practice of becoming aware, we learn to observe and notice with kindness, non-judging, gentleness, letting things be, patience and curiosity, among other attitudes. This is an often taught implicitly but is an important skill to develop that supports our practice.

Thus, at the beginning, we are encouraged not to feel like we need to do anything with what we are noticing, not because change is not possible, but because we are developing the ability to see clearly without our habitual reactivity. When we are reactive to what we see, the instinct is to fix, suppress, or push it away. But if we move too quickly into this fixing mode, we lose the opportunity to understand what is happening internally, see patterns and arrive at the root cause.

This approach can feel counterintuitive, almost like being asked to stand before a garden that clearly needs attention and simply look at it, without pulling one weed. But before we can tend to it skillfully, we need to understand what we are seeing. So, we practice opening to our experience in a kind way, developing our ability to turn towards the whole array of what is here, not just the things we find pleasant. As we begin to practice in this way, we are training our attention across different aspects of our experience. Mindfulness trains four scopes or areas of awareness. We begin with the body, tuning into sensations at the breath or anchor, or the whole body, opening to and becoming aware of what is here.

The second layer we begin to see

As we develop our ability to be aware, we notice not only what is happening, but how we are relating to what is happening. There is the event itself, then there are the thoughts about the event, and how we relate to those thoughts or reactions.

If what is happening is perceived as pleasant or neutral, we may be open to it, even savor it, or have a general sense of ease. Although even with pleasant or neutral experiences, we may find layers of stress, emerging as a clinging to the pleasant or unsatisfactoriness in the neutral. If what we are experiencing is perceived anywhere along the spectrum of unpleasant, in addition to our original reaction, we may notice things like not liking our thoughts, feeling ashamed, judgements about ourselves, we might even feel angry that we are having that reaction. So, there is a kind of layering that happens: the original experience, our reaction to that experience, and then the added layer of how we relate to our own reactions. This is often where a large part of our suffering lives.

This aversion towards our experience and towards ourselves can become more visible when we meet it with mindful awareness. However, without first training in gently turning towards our experience with the attitudes of mindfulness, this can feel like a lot. So, we begin by practicing with less challenging experiences, an itch, a sensation in the body, something simple we can stay with.

This is sometimes described as the second area or scope of mindfulness practice, where we become aware of how something feels, whether it is pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. In this way, we learn to hold our experience without reactivity, hence the “no need to change anything.” The wisdom of this part of the practice emerges as we begin to see that much of our stress is related to how we are perceiving our experience, not just the experience itself.

Creating enough space to allow and explore

With consistent practice, we can cultivate a mental space that prevents us from being instantly overwhelmed by automatic responses. We begin to recognize the nature of our minds in any given moment. An array of self-critical or negative thoughts, moods, body sensations, emotions, and impulses to act can arise. We can begin to hold all of this in our awareness.

These may all be indications of how the mind tries to reduce discomfort and “keep us safe” as efficiently as possible, filtering our experience through the protective lens of our negativity bias. From an evolutionary perspective, this makes sense. The mind is wired to scan for potential threats and respond quickly to protect us. It tends to give more weight to what feels uncomfortable or uncertain, often before we have had time to consciously process what is happening.

We may notice then, that not every thought is accurate. This insight becomes especially important when we feel triggered. Sometimes there is a real threat, and the nervous system needs to react quickly. But often there is no actual emergency, and yet the mind and body respond as if there were.

In mindfulness-based approaches, this is sometimes described as learning to see thoughts as mental events rather than facts, a shift that has been shown to reduce patterns like rumination. From this perspective, the full chain reaction that arises in the mind and body in response to our perception may not always be aligned with our current reality. This insight can sprout as we make the shift from simply noticing, to allowing and exploring what we see in that space.

By training our capacity to see that we have a mind, and that it is not the same as the contents of our minds, we develop the ability to observe our mind states more impartially. As we connect to the spaciousness of that observation deck of the mind, we can begin to see more clearly. In that clarity, we may recognize that our thoughts, emotions and states of being become events that arise in our awareness and are actually quite transient.

We often use the metaphor of the sky and the clouds. The sky represents the spacious mind from which we can observe the clouds (thoughts, emotions, sensations). We are not in the clouds, but we can see them pass by and even label them. Clouds come and go, transform and shift, just like our moods, thoughts and body sensations.

This is sometimes described as the third area or scope of mindfulness, awareness of the mind itself. We begin to discern between the one who observes and what is being observed. We may discover a place that feels more spacious or peaceful, with a kind of bird’s-eye view of the complexity we often call stress or suffering; a place where we are not as entangled in what is happening.

Seeing the patterns beneath the moment

Over time, another layer becomes visible. We begin to get interested in the contents of our minds, emotions and body sensations, and notice patterns. Like noticing that the same type of weeds keeps growing in our garden, we can recognize how certain situations trigger similar reactions or how the same thought patterns appear once and again. Challenging patterns might look like body reactions, emotions or ideas like “I’m not good enough,” catastrophizing, mind reading, all-or-nothing thinking, etc.

Over time, these repeated thought patterns can begin to feel less like thoughts and more like truths about who we are. A simple moment, like an idea not being acknowledged in a meeting, can activate that entire pattern of “I’m not good enough”. The mind quickly interprets the situation as confirmation of self-doubt, and from there a cascade follows: more self-doubt, body activation, replaying the scenario, and withdrawing or hesitating to contribute next time.

But if we stop and look more closely, we may see that the situation itself does not necessarily mean what the mind is saying it means. Maybe in that meeting, someone was distracted, focused on something else, or simply did not register what was said and it had nothing to do with our idea being good enough.

Thus, the event is one thing, and the interpretation of it is another. Future similar events reinforce a belief like, “I’m not good enough,” creating a pattern formed by how the mind makes sense of experience. Mindfulness helps us shift from “I’m not good enough” to “I’m having a thought that I am not good enough.”  Then we can begin to see that distinction: these are just thoughts, not reality, and a habit of the mind shaped by what it is believing.

This is sometimes described as the fourth area or scope of mindfulness, where we engage our attention to the contents of the mind. We turn that light of awareness to see what calls our attention, and discern if it is helpful or not, old or new, familiar or unfamiliar. From here, we can begin to make more skillful choices. Some patterns fall away simply by noticing them, while others we may learn to gently let go of.

The challenge of deeper patterns

This is where the work can feel more complex, because now we are not only relating to moment-to-moment reactions, but to patterns that feel more deeply rooted. These patterns are like those weeds that keep growing back if the underlying conditions remain the same. They have been reinforced over time, so when they arise, we may not even question them, or if we do, we might find ourselves wondering, “When will this stop?” “Why do I still think this way?” “Why can’t I just change this?”

Imagine sitting in front of a garden and asking, “When will these weeds just stop?” We wouldn’t usually think that way, because we understand that there are causes and conditions creating the weeds. We might even feel a sense of possibility, knowing that if we take the time to understand what is there, we can begin to change those conditions by improving the soil, adding nutrients, and tending to it differently. And yet, when it comes to our own minds, we often assume we are stuck with whatever is here.

And here again, the attitudes matter. Kindness, patience, curiosity. Because pushing harder does not undo these patterns. Some patterns subside easily; others require repeated, gentle attention. Some weeds lift out easily, others need more care, maybe even help from a specialist. Hating on the garden, roughing it up, or ignoring it doesn’t help remove the weeds.

Carl Jung is often associated with the idea that what we resist tends to persist. Modern psychology has explored this further. There is a well-known finding, explored by researcher Daniel Wegner, that when we try to suppress certain thoughts, they often return with more intensity. Many people notice this directly, the more we try not to think something, the more it seems to stay. In contrast, although counterintuitive, a gentle openness and allowing often creates the conditions for these patterns to begin to shift.

This is often where people get stuck in mindfulness practice. They hear “just let things be,” and it can feel unsatisfying. But there is more to it. We let things be and when we have developed the capacity to relate to them skillfully, we make choices that are helpful.

A different way of relating to ourselves

The same is true for our minds and bodies. We begin by noticing. We see where our reactions are not aligned with reality, and often, simply seeing that clearly, softens the reactivity.

Alongside this, we start to recognize that this is part of being human. That mistaking our perception for reality is not a personal failure, but a very common pattern of mind. Many of us feel like we are the only ones reacting this way, which only intensifies the self-criticism, but as we begin to see these patterns more clearly, we also begin to recognize how universal they are. What once felt personal can start to feel more matter of fact. “Oh, my mind is judging again.” And in that recognition, some of the shame and self-judgment can begin to loosen.

There is a certain lightness that comes from not needing to make ourselves wrong for what is, in many ways, simply human. Research on self-compassion shows that relating to ourselves with this kind of understanding can reduce self-criticism and support emotional resilience.

 

What mindfulness offers is not control over our experience, but insight into how we are perceiving it. As that insight grows, what once felt crystalized can become more workable.

From the clarity and non-reactive stance we have cultivated, we can start to tend to our internal garden. Just like with a real garden, we would not leave it as is. We would pull out the weeds, add nutrients, plant new seeds. We would cultivate it with care.

In this way, we are not simply leaving things as they are internally. Some patterns may fall away simply through awareness and letting be. Others require intentional shifts, new ways of thinking, new habits, and new responses; not from force, reactivity, or aversion, but from awareness, understanding, patience and repeated, skillful response.

If you’d like to explore this more directly, you might take a moment to notice what is present for you right now. What thoughts, body sensations, or emotions are here? And what changes when you simply begin by noticing, rather than trying to change anything?


Explore further resources

🎧 Listen: No User Manual: A Podcast for Life Without Instructions
🌱 Care Kit: Steadying the Restless Mind, a self-guided program for working with overthinking through simple practices that bring awareness, space, and ease.

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