A Simple Practice for Meeting and Metabolizing Difficult Emotions

How to turn toward disturbance with kindness, attend to sensations, stay present with aliveness, and give feelings space without demanding resolution.

This article emerged from my work at The Field, where we are exploring the intersection of core vulnerability and deity yoga, and is informed by my ongoing study with Bruce Tift and Khyentse Norbu. A recent conversation with Michael Taft on the Deconstructing Yourself podcast clarified a key insight: disturbance, when fully felt, can help dissolve the apparent solidity of identity architecture.

The practitioners I work with often carry the same paradox: they desperately want freedom from difficult emotions, yet their efforts to escape intensify the sense of contraction. They've tried therapy, meditation, positive thinking, and still find themselves besieged by patterns of panic, shame, and reactivity.

I am currently teaching a generation stage yoga course and I noticed how students could inhabit deity forms with remarkable stability, yet recoil the moment their own vulnerability surfaced. They could visualize themselves as Green Tara but couldn't stay present when panicky feelings flooded their chest. This disconnect revealed something crucial: we need to continue to build up-to-date bridges between the profound openness available in spiritual practice and the contracted states that dominate daily life.

What emerged corroborates Bruce Tift's findings in his own therapy and spiritual practice: the sensations we flee from, that raw panic beneath our emotional strategies, might actually be the texture of openness itself, filtered through a nervous system that reads groundlessness as threat. This isn't new. Buddhist teachers have pointed to this for centuries. But most contemporary approaches either bypass the body (going straight for transcendence) or stop at the body (focusing only on regulation).

I've watched many practitioners, myself included, spend years using spiritual practice as sophisticated distraction. We perfect our meditation method while sidestepping the specter of vulnerability that haunts the periphery. We speak eloquently about emptiness while constructing elaborate defenses against actually experiencing it.

This set of practices for meeting emotions and recognizing how they spontaneously liberate has been a fulcrum for me — and while I've articulated them in contemporary language, they're already embedded in the teachings of Vajrayana Buddhism. The core insights remain the same: that disturbance is the path, that you can start with just five seconds of wakefulness, and that the panic I'd been trying to dodge my entire life was actually the portal I'd been seeking.

Three Key Terms Used Throughout This Practice

Vulnerability

The embodied feelings we resist: shame, hurt, loneliness, rage, dependency, grief. Practice is to stay with these textures rather than discharge or fix them. Intimacy with vulnerability opens into formless panic, and beyond that, into open experience without reference. Vulnerability is not pathology; it is simple human experience.

Formless Panic

How openness registers to the ego process and nervous system. The raw, preverbal alarm that arises when openness is filtered through ego. It is the felt sense of groundlessness. When we feel reactive, we can check to see if we are brushing against some moment of panic that has just been touched.

Openness

The raw, nonconceptual immediacy of experience when it is not organized around protecting self and identity. Alive, vivid, referenceless, and intense.

Building Your Capacity Gradually

This practice involves staying present with difficult sensations rather than regulating them away. If you're in crisis, actively using substances, or experiencing severe mental health symptoms, please work with a professional before trying this practice.

The ability to create distance from our feelings and not feel the full force of everything is healthy. If your current coping strategies are keeping you functional and safe, there's no urgency to dismantle them. This practice is for when you're resourced enough to temporarily set aside protective strategies and meet your experience directly, not for when you're barely managing to get through the day.

Start with a few seconds of investigation and return to regulation if needed. You can return to regulation techniques like breathwork, NSDR, and movement if the practice becomes destabilizing. Having a support person aware of your practice can provide additional safety.

Note on arousal: If you’re engaging in an activity that requires arousal like a performance, sporting event, or presentation—the goal isn’t to eliminate nervous energy but rather to “get your butterflies flying in formation.” In these situations, you’re working with the arousal rather than settling it, channeling the intensity into focused attention rather than scattered reactivity.

This essay focuses on individual practice, but co-regulation is also a natural and effective approach. I will write about working with disturbance interpersonally in the coming weeks.

Below you'll find pith, concise, and elaborate versions of the practice instructions, roughly following a traditional Buddhist format.

Why Befriend What We Fear Most?

Spiritual and therapeutic pathwork often instigates a confrontation with what we fear most. Not because reality itself is fear-producing, but because the engagement of a constructed self with nonpersonal reality will likely be experienced as a threat. The ego process — our continual self-referential activity that converts raw experience into 'me' and 'mine' — interprets referenceless nature and alive intensity as anxiety.

When your chest tightens before a difficult conversation, when sleeplessness grips you awaiting test results, when inexplicable dread washes over you in a quiet moment, these are invitations to investigate if there is a real threat.

Distress isn't pathology; it's our adaptive strategy for maintaining a stable sense of self, developed through evolution and childhood to keep us safe. The problem is that these strategies are often decades out-of-date.

Mindset, therapy, and nervous system regulation can soothe anxiety, but they can’t change the fact that we never truly know what’s next. These tools help us function, yet they don’t touch the deeper invitation: to meet uncertainty itself as a path of transformation. Practitioners committed to a spiritual or therapeutic path may find it important to commit to anxiety as an approximation of the freedom that they are trying to access via meditation, prayer, and devotion.

Anxious feelings can act as guardians at the threshold of awakened mind, requiring us to commit to them rather than escape them: training ourselves in the counterintuitive work of not abandoning our vulnerable feelings. This work feels especially difficult because it contradicts both biological wiring and cultural conditioning, which teach us to avoid rather than befriend our difficult feelings. As we acclimate to experiencing the broad spectrum of our own sensations and emotions, we learn to appreciate the experience of anxiety, explore it, feel it, and see for ourselves whether it is as much of a problem as it appears to be.

We've been sold the myth that psychological comfort is a human right, that anxiety means breakdown instead of breakthrough. What creates unnecessary suffering is our fantasy of organizing our lives around avoiding negative experience. This fantasy obscures the truth of how human experience actually works. Anxiety and grief aren't bugs in the system — they're features. When we stop running from anxiety, we discover something surprising: our avoidance solidifies the very threat we're trying to escape.

The feelings themselves carry no inherent danger; they're just sensations we don't like. But our reactions to these feelings, those outdated survival strategies that once kept us alive, now narrow the scope of our experience.

Modern practitioners almost inevitably encounter difficult states, and the process can be quite disturbing. Traditional religious practice renders disowned energies as mythic forms: obstacle makers, demons, elementals — objective entities with apparent agency. In the West, we tend to regard these patterns as symptoms, hang-ups, and persistent self-sabotaging behaviors. Since the purported goal of spiritual practice is to overcome pain and suffering, it seems skillful to have an accurate accounting of not only the modes of disturbance but also as many antidotes as possible at our disposal.

One way to understand meditation is as a return to raw, immediate, present experience. Our habitual interpretations act as buffers against truth. Instead of pretending the world is empty of essence or that we can avoid the mess of human experience, it’s often more honest to admit: ‘I feel a sense of lack,’ or, ‘I fear intimacy in my relationships.’ If that’s what’s true, that’s what we commit to experiencing.

If we continue to privilege an inaccurate view of where we actually are in our developmental arc by going for cessation, transcendence, and escape, then we generate more confusion for ourselves, creating a vicious cycle that perpetuates itself.

So what's the alternative?

Rather than dismissing our anxious experiencing, we can learn to meet it directly.

Pith Instruction

When disturbance surfaces, bring attention to immediate, raw, bodily sensation — no interpretation, no story. Hang out with the vulnerability and check: do I actually need to do anything about this feeling, or can it just be here?

This method has a few distinguishing qualities:

• Sensation-level focus – Attention is placed on raw physical sensations (tightness in the chest, flutter in the belly, heat in the face) rather than on the emotions, explanations, or narratives layered on top. The body is the entry point.

• Non-conceptual presence – Instead of analyzing or trying to understand why something is happening, the practice is to just know what is happening as it is. No commentary, no resolution.

• Intimacy with disturbance – Especially when vulnerability or formless panic is present, embodied immediacy means choosing to stay in contact with those sensations instead of fleeing into distraction or compulsive strategies.

• Openness without resolution – The attitude is not to resolve or integrate contradictions, but to stay embodied with them, tolerating their intensity and letting them unfold in open awareness.

• Kindness toward experience – The orientation is unconditional friendliness toward whatever is arising in the body. Not “enduring” but relating.

Concise Aphorisms for Meeting and Metabolizing Difficult Emotions

1. Acknowledge and Invite

Recognize disturbance as normal and reorient toward what's actually happening. Stay intimate with what is, and be kind to what you find.

2. Inhabit Aliveness

Drop into sensation-level experience and stay with the body, not the story. Bathe in naked intimacy with aliveness. Fully participate in the ongoing stream of present moment experiencing.

3. Embrace and Expand

Welcome the clash of impulses, moods, and feeling textures. When activation kicks in, our perception narrows and we tend to collapse into familiar stories about our inadequacy or unworthiness. When activation distorts and narrows your perceptions, arouse the felt sense that you are worthy of connection and success. This expansion of perspective builds a capacity to tolerate mystery and uncertainty without demanding resolution.

4. Trust the Truth

Trust the body's intelligence to process what needs processing. Curb the habit of telling a story, which is an out-of-date way to give form to openness, and return to the naked experience of aliveness. Emotions spontaneously liberate without intervention.

Detailed Aphorisms for Meeting and Metabolizing Difficult Emotions. Root Verses and Commentary.

Throughout these instructions, 'disturbance' refers to any uncomfortable experience — from mild unease to intense panic. The practice remains the same regardless of intensity.

1. Recognize, reorient, and acknowledge what is. Disturbing sensations and feelings are not unexpected and are a valid part of life. This isn't about fixing yourself or pushing through discomfort, but about meeting your experience with basic friendliness. Instead of repairing or escaping, invite the difficult sensation. Even one second of willingness matters. Gently notice when reactivity, story-making, or avoidance arise. Ask: “What am I unwilling to feel right now?”

2. Embodied Immersion. Immerse yourself in the depth and richness of sensation-level experience. Eliminate unnecessary distractions. Turn off the phone. Let the feeling have room to move without interference. Work at your capacity — if the well of disturbance is too deep, step back and return later.

Start with just five or ten seconds of contact with the sensation, then rest. This isn't about heroically enduring formless panic, but building tolerance gradually, like strengthening a muscle.

Frequent, brief moments of practice are more effective than one big push to resolve everything.

Instead of analyzing or explaining what's happening, drop into the physical experience of the emotion itself. Notice bodily sensations as formless aliveness, percolating expressions of wholeness and humanity.

Drop into raw experiencing and let the waves of feeling move, sparkle, dissolve, or linger without interference.

3. Stay with the sensation, not the story. Find out if bodily sensations are formless. Stop asking "Why am I feeling this?" That narrative keeps you stuck in dysregulation. Disturbance can be understood as an encounter with formless vulnerability: raw, intense aliveness.

Uncertainty triggers vulnerable feelings: the breakup, the test results, the family conflict. Younger parts rush in to protect us from overwhelm.

The textures of sensation vary in intensity: tingling, flickering, subtle, effervescent pulses in space. When we invite, tolerate, and kindly engage with these feelings, they reveal an undulatory, vibrating presence. The tightness in your chest, the heat in your throat, and the pressure in your head are simply energies moving, not usually evidence that something is wrong.

Before a difficult conversation, you might notice tension in your throat, heat in your chest, while a flutter in your belly feels like a hovering hummingbird. Instead of spinning into stories about what will happen next, investigate if you are avoiding an emotion.

When panic or groundlessness surfaces, tolerate it as the evolutionary signal of openness and uncertainty, not as pathology, and not as a verdict on your personal worth.

• The body holds the intelligence you need for this process. Meeting disturbance is practice, not achievement or conquest.

• When self-referential commentary surfaces, recognize it as an outdated way to provide relief from intensity and gently turn attention back toward the body.

• When your mind starts spinning tales of blame, regret, or justification, gently turn attention to the sensations in the body.

• You can't be self-aggressive when your attention is in your sensations. Sensations are not self-aggressive in their nature.

Self-critical thoughts literally shut down your brain's learning centers. Curiosity about what you’re experiencing can restore spaciousness.

4. Invite contradictory experience. Allow conflicting impulses and feelings to coexist, with no fantasy of resolution. Disturbance is aliveness moving through a system that already knows how to process arousal. You're not trying to eliminate difficult emotions, but learning to remain present with them as they arise and pass. There is no need to aggressively extinguish or defeat disturbance. Instead, we can gently reintegrate disowned energies, which are us. What feels like regression is often your nervous system processing and integrating. There's no such thing as 'one step backward' in this work.

5. Turn your attention toward recognizing that you are worthy of connection and success. Relate to yourself as inherently worthy of connection and success, regardless of what you're feeling in this moment. Loving self-talk, hypnosis, or guided meditation can be helpful in establishing a better story. Your emotional experience doesn't diminish your fundamental value. When the intensity feels overwhelming, you can alternate between soothing self-talk ('I'm safe right now, this feeling will pass') and returning to sensation-level experience. This creates a gentle rhythm of engagement and comfort. Hold your sensations and upset with the same kindness as you would an upset child. Much of our behavior and many of our feelings are a reflection of our best attempt to care for ourselves, and disturbance can be an opportunity to practice unconditional kindness toward these out-of-date strategies.

Practice feeling adequately held by your life, by the world.

The more we can rest in being a mystery to ourselves, the more we can show up without needing to know who we are or how we’ll handle the next moment. As we practice tolerance and kindness toward our worst fears, the illusion of inner division begins to weaken. We can love all of ourselves, not only the parts that feel 'good.' Staying with our vulnerabilities and holding them in love, we train ourselves to be present with whatever emerges.

This practice of self-kindness builds the very brain circuits needed for resilience and flexible responding. We drop the futile project of self-abandonment and this builds real confidence in our capacity to show up fully.

6. Continue to reduce demands on your attention and emotions. For survival reasons, we’ve evolved to quickly suppress stress until it feels safe to release and work through it. This means you don't need to process everything immediately. If you're at work or in public when disturbance arises, it's fine to note it and return to it later when you have privacy and support. Allow yourself the time to respond with maturity, setting aside any youthful impulse for instant resolution. Your job isn't to fix anything. It's to not interfere with what's already happening. Let emotions follow their own timeline without rushing toward resolution. Feelings have their own rhythm and intelligence that can't be forced or hurried.

7. Give the disturbing patterns space to run their course. Ego processes tend to hurry through physiological or psychological stress cycles. Our experience shifts between biological, adult, and spiritual capacities. If you experience deep swings between anxiousness and distraction, you are likely in a fight-or-flight response. Use interventions like the physiological sigh, sensation-level awareness, and non-sleep deep rest to return to adult capacities.

Adult capacities include tolerating uncertainty and contradiction, integrating complex experience, accepting our multifaceted nature, and claiming appropriate responsibility while releasing what lies beyond our control.

Continue to distinguish between compulsive survival-level biological behavior and a genuine existential threat.

8. Self-referential commentary is an out-of-date way to give form to uncertainty. Trust the intelligence of your body. The feeling knows how to move through you when you stop micromanaging it. When we feel groundlessness, we reflexively create personal stories ('This means I'm failing,' 'Something terrible will happen') to give form to the formless. These narratives are outdated strategies. They once helped us make sense of overwhelming experience, but now they keep us from the fresh aliveness of the present moment. We can choose to tune into the freshness of present moment experience. The miracle of being aware. Trust your intuitive intelligence to process what needs processing and remain present with raw experience rather than feeding the stories your mind spins about that experience.

9. Plant and nourish the seeds of gratitude and love. The brain's ancient wiring prioritizes threat-detection over well-being. While your body processes disturbance, deliberately cultivate nourishing states. Bring to mind a personal moment of experiencing safety, kindness, competence, or groundedness, and really let the sensations of joy and resource land. Let your body register the warmth or strength of that memory for 20-30 seconds, saturating yourself in those sensations. This practice of “taking in the good” counteracts the negativity bias that would otherwise let nourishing moments pass unnoticed, building resilience in your nervous system.

Some of these supportive qualities include:

• Groundedness: the stability of someone who doesn't need to flee from any experience

• Open heart: warmth that can meet pain without withdrawing

• Alert stillness: presence that notices everything without strain

• Inner resource: confidence that does not depend on conditions changing

• Immediate responsiveness: the capacity to act skillfully without hesitation

• Fearless compassion: love that doesn't require the other to change

Notice the contrast: inhabiting your body as more spacious, more fluid, and more responsive than inhabiting the old identity.

Just as sanity is more fluid and open than neurosis, a consciously chosen attitude of compassion and self-care is more accurate and alive than the various roles we've been rehearsing for years.

How Avoidance Unfolds

We often long for greater freedom and spontaneity while using the same compulsive strategies that keep us bound. Over time, we've learned to step away from raw sensation, build layers of feeling on top of it, and settle into patterns that once helped us survive but now keep us cut off from immediacy. If we're interested in being intimate with life as it is, these old strategies need to be addressed rather than ignored. Even profound realization doesn't erase them, and when they go unrecognized they still shape our relationships in painful ways. Out of kindness to ourselves and others, it's worth acknowledging these strategies and meeting them directly, so our inner environment becomes clearer and more workable.

If this practice and other meditation methods are recovery, what are we recovering to? What pulls us away from the raw immediacy of being alive?

When disturbance hits — whether it’s the punch in the gut from unkind words, the cannonball of grief from a rejection letter, or the heat rising in your throat during a difficult confrontation, our first instinct is to recoil. But banishing our vulnerability transforms simple sensation into something heavier. A flutter becomes "anxiety." Heat becomes "anger." Keep resisting, and these feelings harden into strategies: fight, flee, freeze, please. These affective emotions are more patterned and behavioral than raw feelings; they usually point toward particular actions. Fear wants you to run. Anger wants you to fight. Sadness wants you to disappear. These aren't just feelings—they're marching orders from an ancient survival manual.

We rely on these affective emotions because they carry the implicit promise of protection: anger readies us to fight, fear to flee, sadness to withdraw. But if resisted, they also lock us into repetitive strategies that rarely address our actual, current situation. In this way, avoidance becomes the very center of our identity, even though it began simply as a reflex to not feel. The process is straightforward. Disturbance leads to resistance, which creates feelings. Those feelings develop into affective emotions, which drive avoidance behaviors that shape who we think we are.

The Cycle of Avoidance

When disturbance first touches us and we experience a sensation or scenario we don't like, here's my notion of what unfolds:

⊢ Aggression toward what is present — the compulsive drive to escape vulnerable experience

⊢ Feelings — raw sensation given emotional weight and meaning

⊢ Affective emotions — anger, fear, sadness organized into strategies

⊢ Avoidance behaviors — fight, flight, withdrawal, distraction

∴ Escape from raw immediacy — loss of contact with direct, embodied experience

One paradox of our pathwork is that our attempts to escape anxiety place those feelings at the center of our sense of self. Despite the tactical advantage of becoming engrossed in habits that provide relief, these strategies become the very architecture of our identity.

So how do we break this cycle? How do we meet disturbance without reinforcing the very patterns we're trying to heal? The following approach offers one way to stay present with difficult experience while building genuine resilience.

Integration: Working with These Principles Daily

In daily life, this looks like: When you notice disturbance arising—in traffic, during a difficult email, before a meeting — pause. Take ten seconds to drop from story to sensation. Feel what's here without altering it. Then continue with your day. This builds resilience through small, repeated moments of practice rather than lengthy sessions. It’s easy to approach emotional disturbance with an aggressive effort to conquer it, as if the task were to stamp it out. That kind of black-and-white stance reflects a younger psychology. The practice here is different. We’re not trying to eliminate our experience but to stay embodied and open with whatever is arising.

When patterns carry a neurotic quality, we can usually recognize them by how different it feels from openness and immediacy. With this recognition, we have the chance to respond from our adult capacities, instead of being pulled along by compulsive strategies to escape what feels disturbing. These steps are drawn from my own struggles with anxiousness, panic, and the daily disruptions of modern life. They may not be right for everyone, but they’ve been deeply helpful for me.

Uncertainties that make your stomach drop, the vulnerability that leaves you feeling exposed, the reactivity that flares when someone cuts you off in traffic — these aren't problems to solve. They're expressions of life's fundamental openness breaking through a carefully curated sense of control. From this perspective, anxiety can be seen as a natural and necessary part of our path of waking up. If we have a goal of waking up out of our familiar character dramas, it is inevitable that we will have to forge a conscious relationship to experience and feelings that we typically find threatening or overwhelming.

If we're between jobs, unsure when the next inflow of cash will come, you don't know what's coming and can't control the outcome. Depending on our mindset and personal history, that uncertainty can stir the body into high alert. What the ego reads as threat is often just openness itself registering in your nervous system.

Sometimes anxiety has an address — the phone call you're dreading, the test results arriving Tuesday. Anticipatory anxiety arises in the face of specific unknowns, like the night before a public presentation, while chronic anxiety lingers without a clear object, a constant background reaction to the openness of life itself.

The ego process, organized around stability and coherence, recognizes in that open field of potential a kind of death. So we recoil, construct, explain. This is entirely human — not pathology or a problem to eliminate. It's possible that mature practice and an ability to access our adult capacities requires us to remain embodied in anxiety's presence, gradually acclimating to openness itself.

Anxiety is an evolutionary alarm detecting pure openness — the ungraspable torrent of raw aliveness. The freefall of adult life that has no reliable handholds or reference points.

In my experience, tending to the basics builds resilience: rest, movement, nourishment, and supportive relationships. Methods like NSDR, therapy, taking in the good, or hypnosis can deepen that foundation and make inquiry into experience more sustainable.

Depending on a practitioner's history, it can be useful, though not prerequisite, to develop confidence in regulating the nervous system and tolerating a sense of well-being as they walk the path. That has certainly fortified my own practice.

Iterative exposure to this open and formless vulnerability fortifies the nervous system and our underlying psychology to tolerate what's actually true: we don't know who we are or where we're going. We can learn to tolerate the reality of being a mystery to ourselves and that the world is an unknowable and majestic energetic pattern. Spectacular in its creativity, color, and seamless exchange.

For modern spiritual practitioners, this means reframing anxiousness and panic as not some threatening 'other' but rather the fruition of self-inquiry, discipline, and finally abandonment of any formula in favor of what is immediately true. When panic arises, we can investigate: "Is this actually threatening my survival? Or is my body just doing what bodies do?" Most of us have the luxury of checking rather than reacting. We can choose conscious participation over evolutionary autopilot.

This practice isn't about perfection or achieving a state free from disturbance. It's about living in the experience of freedom while simultaneously improving the quality of our experiencing.

Each moment you stay present with what is instead of escaping into habits, you're building capacity for genuine presence.

Start small: five seconds at a time, repeated 20 times. Increase to ten seconds tomorrow. Trust the process.

The Practice in Brief

When disturbance arises:

• Notice the urge to escape into story or action

• Drop attention to the body and find the sensation

• Stay with sensation-level experience for just 5-10 seconds (small doses, not heroic endurance). Rest, then return if needed. Frequent, brief touches are better than forcing an outcome.

• Trust that your body knows how to process this energy. Our emotions are destined to be naturally liberated.

Remember: You're not trying to eliminate disturbance, but rather to change your relationship with it. Start where you are. Even one conscious breath while staying with difficult sensations and emotions builds capacity.