Mindfulness and the Climate of the Mind
When was the last time you wrestled with your thoughts? Perhaps you were lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, and troubling thoughts kept arising—each time you tried to quiet your mind, more thoughts flooded in. Maybe you try to quiet it. Perhaps you focus on breath. But before you know it, new thoughts flood in—a reminder of an email, a conversation from years ago, a nagging worry about tomorrow. For many of us, the mind is a wild frontier, and we often can feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of our own thoughts. We may spend our lives wrestling them, trying desperately to get control—or even silence them altogether.
But what if gaining mastery wasn't about controlling your thoughts? What if it was about changing how you relate to them? This shift in perspective is the heart of mindfulness, and it can fundamentally change the way we to respond to the happenings in our mind. In this article, what I aim to do if give you a new perspective on your thoughts and your relationship to them.
Mindfulness and the Weather
Mindfulness is the practice of bringing awareness to our current state of being without criticism. One of the fundamental components of mindfulness is the observation of our thoughts, and one of the most basic practices of meditation uses the breath as a tool of observation. As we focus on the breath, we are then able to observe our thoughts without getting caught on them—without feeling the need to engage them. And through doing this, we begin to realize that thoughts arise and dissolve of their own accord—seemingly uninfluenced by our will to think or not. We can begin to realize that our thoughts are transient and fickle. We are not our thoughts. We have the choice of whether or not to act on them.
The crux of mindfulness is observation without criticism—observing our thoughts, our feelings, our bodies’ sensations—observing our overall state of being with compassion. Rather than judging what we observe, we allow it to just exist—even when we do not like what we observe. Often the beginning of observation is a bit uncomfortable because it can uncover things we might wish would remain unnoticed—but this is why compassion is crucial.
One tool to observe our thoughts without judgement is imagining our mind as having weather patterns. There is no inherently good or bad weather, but the way that different kinds of weather impacts us can be quite distinct: we may enjoy the sunny sky more than the stormy one. As we observe, we can begin treating our thoughts and feelings as clouds that create weather patterns in our mind. For example, stress and unhappiness can be viewed as dark clouds in the sky rather than as concrete personal indicators of our inner state. Viewing our thoughts in this way allows us to neutrally observe our mental space and gives allows us to “catch” the negative thought patterns before they tip us into a downward spiral. We all experience times of being unhappy or anxious—and our moods naturally wax and wane—but sometimes the difference between a negative mood being an emotion blip or a consuming downward spiral lies in the power we give to our thought patterns and our ability to mindfully observe these patterns.
The Mind and Thought Spirals
But, we must understand a bit about how the mind operates. Our minds are pattern-seeking engines—our brains thrive on identifying patterns and similarities in everything that we do, and particularly patterns which we have identified before. Pattern detection is a critical part of how we learn and make predictions. It allows us to learn quickly and then apply the knowledge we gather swiftly to other situations. And further, we use patterns to predict situations and to know how to respond in situations that are similar to those which we have previously encountered.
Pattern detection is an incredible survival mechanism! The mind is constantly trawling through our memories to find those that echo our current situation. It is constantly looking for similarities, known variables, and familiar patterns. If we feel threatened, our mind naturally dips to another moment we were threatened. We spot the similarities and then enact the proper sequence of action that allows us to find a way to escape unscathed.
This same pattern-seeking process also shapes our emotional lives. When something in the present reminds our brain of a past experience—whether we're consciously aware of the connection or not—it can trigger the emotional patterns and survival responses associated with that earlier event. A comment from a partner, a particular tone of voice, a stressful day at work, or even a physical sensation can activate a familiar emotional response.
Once we're triggered, it can become difficult to stay grounded in the present. The initial emotion often pulls in other connected thoughts, feelings, memories, and body sensations, creating a cascade that can quickly spiral. What may have started as a moment of disappointment, fear, or shame can suddenly feel much bigger, as our mind automatically links it to similar experiences from the past. Before we know it, we're no longer responding only to what's happening right now—we're responding to an entire network of past experiences that has been activated.
The Solution
So, what’s the solution? We can't immediately stop ourselves from being triggered. Our brains have spent years building these emotional pathways (often for good reasons!), and changing them takes time, practice, and support. But while we may not be able to prevent the initial trigger, we can begin to change what happens next.
Rather than automatically reacting to the thoughts, emotions, and urges that arise, we can learn to notice them. By creating even a small amount of space between what we experience and how we respond, we interrupt the cascade before it gathers momentum. Instead of being swept along by the spiral, we begin to witness it. Mindfulness isn't a way to eliminate painful thoughts or emotions. It isn't about forcing ourselves to feel calm or pretending everything is okay. Instead, mindfulness offers a different relationship with our inner experience.
It reminds us that thoughts are not facts, emotions are not commands, and memories—even vivid, emotionally charged ones—are not the present moment. They are echoes of experiences that have shaped us, but they do not have to determine how we respond right now. When we notice a painful memory, a wave of anxiety, or a harsh inner critic arising, we don't have to suppress it or become consumed by it. We can simply acknowledge it: This is here right now. From that place of awareness, we gain the freedom to choose our next response instead of reacting automatically.
So how do we begin to do this? How can we observe our own minds—especially the thoughts and emotional patterns that seem to operate just beneath our awareness? One helpful way is to imagine that our mind has a climate, with our thoughts and emotions behaving like the weather. Rather than trying to control the weather, we simply learn to notice it.
The Climate of the Mind
Imagine for a moment your mind is the sky and thoughts are clouds. They materialize and float past, the weather ebbs and flows. Sometimes the sky is cloudy—the clouds are black and mean. Our thoughts are negative and dark. Sometimes the sky is bright and clear—the clouds are soft and wispy. Our thoughts are positive and light. Each morning we awake, we have a different mental climate, and the weather is going to be a little different. Sometimes we wake up and our sky is a little cloudier. Somedays we wake up with a sunny, clear day but storm clouds suddenly blow through.
We can’t control the weather, and similarly, there is an extent to which we can’t control what kinds of thoughts materialize. But if we can observe our mental climate, and know what we are working with, this is the first step. Perhaps tomorrow you wake up and it’s a cloudy day, then you are able to recognize—before your day has begun—that you are starting out from a place of things being a little more grim—and when the stormy clouds arise or refuse to dissipate, you can let them be—knowing that they are transient states.
Having this perspective allows us to cultivate an attitude of compassion towards ourselves and our mental climate—it allows us to acknowledge the weather we experience each day. And further, this tool of observation allows us to slow the roll on the negative thoughts. When a stormy cloud comes and triggers more clouds, we can observe them as they are, without needing to engage and further spiral. We can “catch” the negative thought in the act. And truly, the first step to gaining some control over our mental climate is figuring out what it is to begin with—is going on in our minds? What are the frequent thought patterns? Which thoughts trigger which emotions—and where does this take us?
When we begin to observe our thoughts, we begin to recognize that thoughts don’t require us to engage. They appear to arise and dissolve of their own accord, and we can actually let the thoughts, the “clouds”, pass by. They can remain, they can pass by—but we don’t need to engage with them if we do not want to. I can acknowledge the “cloud” as my current reality—and it might feel terrible—but also I know that it will soon pass over. We are not our thoughts. Our thoughts are entirely separate from us. They carry real weight, but it is possible to keep them distinct from ourselves as we observe them and let them be.
And as we observe, we can begin to identify the patterns that currently exist. This allows us a depth of knowing ourself. We begin to wake up to the thought paths that we frequently tread, which allows us an opportunity to change the script. We can begin to methodically choose which thought paths we want to pursue and which we will not follow.
As we loose ourselves of the desire to control our thoughts, something paradoxical happens: we actually gain control of our mind and our emotions. It is not easy—but mindfulness is like a muscle. It might begin quite weak and unused; it might be hard to observe without engaging. It might be hard to even observe at all and to know what is going on in your mind. But, as you exercise the muscle, it will become easier.
In Conclusion
So perhaps tomorrow morning, before the day carries you away, see if you can take a moment to notice your mental climate. You may ask yourself: Is my sky cloudy today, or is it clear? No right or wrong answer, just noticing whatever is there. And then eventually, perhaps you can begin to recognize the thought clouds that appear each day: your car breaks down—thought clouds of stress and frustration. You find a $5 bill—thought clouds of surprise and joy. Thoughts, emotions, and sensations will continue to come and go, just as the weather always does. And over time, you may even begin to notice the patterns that emerge across the days, months, and years of your life.
The mindful life is a journey which one can spend their life embarking on. But its core is so simple: the uncritical observation of ourselves. It is the practice of observing our experience without becoming lost in it. It starts with a simple inquiry: What's happening within me right now? And then, with patience, curiosity, and compassion, allowing yourself to simply listen.
Author's Note: In 2019, I was honored to be selected as a speaker for TEDxBethelUniversity and wrote this talk for the event. While the TedX event (scheduled for April 2020) was ultimately canceled due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the message has stayed with me. This article is adapted from that original script, and I'm grateful to share it here.
The Guest House
By Rumi
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
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About the Author
Hi, I'm Sable, a Licensed Professional Counselor specializing in Emotionally Focused Couples Therapy. As a queer and neurodivergent therapist, I bring both professional expertise and lived experience to my work. Here, I write about attachment science, relationships, queerness, neurodivergence, mindfulness, and yoga, exploring how our relationships—with others, ourselves, and our bodies—shape healing and growth.
