The Buddha teaches that our minds are naturally like an open sky, vast and boundless. Everyone has the potential to achieve enlightenment. To free themselves from mental suffering and find lasting inner peace and happiness, which we all desire.
At its core, Buddhism teaches that ignorance, delusion, and clinging to self obscure the mind’s natural clarity, much like clouds hide the sky. For example, we often pursue happiness through external sources, such as a new job, instead of recognising that our true happiness and wellbeing come from within.
Practising the Dharma, the Buddha’s teachings, has been the hardest challenge in my life, with parenting not far behind.
The challenge of undoing a lifetime of deeply ingrained mental habits, sitting in daily meditation, and trying to see the world and my sense of self from a completely different perspective has often felt impossible, made even harder by decades of depression and anxiety.
Still, giving up would mean regressing to a worse version of myself. More angry, more stressed, more reactive, more confused, less compassionate; essentially, a far more deluded and self-centred version, where much more suffering exists.
Although progress might seem slow, I feel more in control of my mind and have the tools to lead a more meaningful and engaged life.
Mindfulness and our relationship with our thoughts are essential for improving our mental health. We recognise the importance of being more present in the moment and less caught up in our thoughts. However, we rarely manage to do so, if at all.
Most of the time, we’re lost in thought, thinking without realising we’re thinking, and are often described as having a “monkey mind” or “monkey consciousness,” characterised by endless clinging and grasping. We’re continually distracted by our thoughts, which pull us out of the present moment into something that doesn’t truly reflect what’s happening right in front of us.
During a chat, we often focus on what we’ll say next instead of genuinely listening to the person. When we’re out for a walk, our attention isn’t just on walking and noticing our surroundings; instead, we get caught up in our thoughts, trying to work through our life’s issues. Even during important moments in life, we can still get lost in thought and miss the chance to truly appreciate these unique experiences.
The peculiar thing is that we don’t control our thoughts. You can’t predict what you’ll think next. Sure, I might think of an “apple”, and it’ll come to mind, but try doing that all day or even for the next 10 minutes. It doesn’t seem rational because we believe we control our own experience or that we have power over our minds and how they think. There is some influence, but mostly, we’re at the mercy of our minds, being pulled this way and that, hardly ever finding peace or truly being present in the moment.
And what’s tragic is that most of the time, that voice in your head is unhelpful or even negative, often feeling like a bully or, as Joseph Goldstein puts it, "Thoughts are like dictators".
We also don’t remember thoughts. Where do they go? For such a powerful mental phenomenon, they are fleeting yet so controlling.
You are not your thoughts
Before discovering Buddhism, I didn’t even realise there was a completely different way to relate to my thoughts. It felt like my overthinking was incurable, and I believed my thoughts reflected “me”, the real me.
I used to believe that if I didn’t “think” about everything—like planning, rehearsing, and predicting—I would start losing control over my life. The illusion of controlling my future in my mind kept me falling into this trap.
Following the Buddhist teaching of not identifying with your thoughts through daily meditation and throughout my day, which views thoughts as fleeting events happening in the mind—constantly coming and going—and not a core part of who you are, I started to build a new, healthier relationship with what was going on in my head.
Now, my daily practice involves dissolving the illusion of control, where I’m not always trying to control or improve my experience; instead, I let go and observe the mind’s beautiful, open nature, even if only for a few seconds.
I’m still often lost in thought; as I mentioned, progress is slow, and sometimes my mental busyness and self-talk can be overwhelming. But what’s different now is how quickly I notice when I’m not being mindful and how I can redirect my attention back to what I’m doing. The time spent caught up in a thought storm is much shorter, basically, and has less influence on how I feel.
What motivates me is the increasing number of times I truly stay present. Each clear moment of awareness builds on the last, giving me confidence that I am gradually improving my overall mental state and becoming a better person for those close to me and for the world at large.
A visual mindfulness metaphor I often use is imagining leaves floating down a stream. Standing on the bank, I watch the leaves that mirror my thoughts. Picking up a leaf is like attaching to a thought; I gently place it back into the stream without judgment.
The goal isn’t to eliminate thoughts, but to change how we relate to them. Once we start to recognise thoughts for what they truly are, we become less distracted by them and their impact on how we feel, allowing the present moment to come into focus, which is all there is.
We often go through life without focusing on improving our minds. Our physical health usually takes priority. But, just as we train at the gym to make our bodies fitter and more toned, training our minds is essential because our minds influence everything, like the quality of our experiences and relationships.
Thoughts are like thieves entering an empty house...there’s nothing to take
—Buddhist sage Padmasambhava, also known as Guru Rinpoche