We Are Not Our Thoughts
Today I want to reflect on one of the earliest and most challenging ideas I encountered during my mindfulness training at Duke Universityâs Integrative Medicine program: âWe are not our thoughts.â I had spent decades trying to understand my own thoughts and the thoughts of othersâwhy we think, plan, and live as we doâso the idea baffled me. If I was not my thoughts, then who was I? It is a question we might ponder for days or months, alone or in the company of others: Who are you without your thoughts?
I remember my seventh-grade history teacher asking whether I stayed up all night thinking of questions to ask him in class. A friend from high school told me thenâand again many years laterâthat I think too much. My brother wished I could stop dwelling on the difficult childhood we had. For many years, I also wished I could simply stop the thoughts. I came to see my thoughts as my downfall, and during college I fell into some self-destructive behaviors that quieted them for a brief time.
The question of who we are without our thoughts reminds me of the step in the 12 Step Program that asks us to make a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. For me, the connection is learning to look honestly at what I find without defining myself by it. A later step asks us to examine our defects of character and ask our Higher Power to remove the defects we may have hidden behind for much of our lives. Although I have encouraged kindness toward ourselves, the phrase âdefects of characterâ felt harsh to me. Yikes! It nearly stopped me in my tracks. Yet the process invites us to look more deeply. That raises a difficult question: If you were to look deeply within yourself, what quality might you wish to change? I now prefer the more neutral word âcharacteristicâ because it allows me to look honestly at myself without condemning myself from the start. That gentler language helps me distinguish between observing a thought or characteristic and defining myself by it.
Definition of thoughts: Mental eventsâsuch as ideas, images,
memories, judgments, and plansâthat arise in the mind. They can
influence how we feel and act, but they are experiences we
observe, not the entirety of who we are.
With that definition in mind, you may be looking inward and wondering, âWhat do the ideas, images, memories, judgments, plans, and stories moving through my mind reveal about me?â Alongside that question, we can ask another: âCan I observe this activity without letting it define the whole of who I am?â
For me, mindfulnessâthe practice of focusing and paying attention in the present momentâhas been a blessing. My mind is very busy, and mindfulness helps me approach my busy mind with curiosity rather than treating it as something I must silence. The folks at Dharma Lab from the University of Wisconsin, include awareness as one of the pillars of well-being. That idea has helped me understand the statement âWe are not our thoughtsâ: I do not have to control every thought in order to relate to it differently; I can begin by becoming aware of it.
When I pause long enough, I begin to notice patterns in my thoughts. Some repeat old stories, while others invite me to see my life in a new way. These patterns may offer clues about what I fear, value, hold onto, or hope will happen next, without telling the whole story. Mindfulness allows me to explore those clues without immediately believing every thought, reacting to it, or judging myself for having it. In that pause between a thought and my response, curiosity, compassion, and choice can grow.
As I return to this day, I can remember that my thoughts are real experiences, but they are not the whole of who I am. I can notice them, explore what they may reveal, and choose how I respond. For me, that is one of the quiet gifts of mindfulness: I donât need an empty mind; I can cultivate a kinder and more spacious relationship with the mind I do have.
If you would like to explore this in practice, the following brief meditation invites you to slow down, notice what is present, and meet each thought with curiosity and care. It is a gentle way to explore the space between a thought and a response.
 Meeting Thoughts with KindnessFind a position that feels comfortable and supported. Let your hands rest easily, and allow your shoulders to soften. If it feels right, gently close your eyes or lower your gaze. Take a slow, easy breath in . . . and let it flow out without effort. There is nowhere else you need to be and nothing you need to accomplish. For now, simply give yourself permission to settle into this moment. When you feel ready, begin to notice what is moving through your mind. There is no need to quiet your thoughts, push them away, or make anything different. Let each thought come and go in its own time, like a cloud drifting across an open sky. You may notice planning, remembering, worrying, judging, or imagining. If a thought draws you in, softly name it: âplanning,â âremembering,â âworrying,â or simply âthinking.â Then, with gentleness, let your attention return to your breath. Feel the quiet rhythm of breathing in . . . and breathing out. Or sense the steady support of the chair beneath you and the floor beneath your feet. If your mind wanders, know that nothing has gone wrong. Simply notice where it went, name what appeared, and guide your attention home again. Each return is a small act of care. Rest here for a few more moments, meeting whatever arises with curiosity and kindness. You do not have to follow every thought, believe it, or act on it. You can simply notice it and let it pass. Take one more slow, nourishing breath. Feel the steadiness of the ground beneath you. And when you are ready, gently open your eyes or lift your gaze, carrying a little of this calm awareness with you into the rest of your day. |
As you move back into your day, may you meet your mind with curiosity, gentleness, and compassion. When judgments arise, may you bring tenderness to themâand remember that you are more than your thoughts.
Savor this moment. Meet yourself with kindness.
Dr. Pamm
