Reflections
The word "forgiveness" contains the word "give". What is it that we give? We give the gift of freedom. The freedom for both people to change. When you forgive you give back what you have been holding onto that belongs to the other person. It festers inside of you, you cannot heal. And they are not whole, a piece/peace is missing and they cannot heal. So forgiveness is a way of letting go of the baggage held between people, being energetically passed back and forth in the relationship (if it still exists in real time) or in new ones (proxies for the old relationship) or turned inward. This letting go opens us up to the ability to love freely, without this barrier to our heart and ultimately our own freedom. But how do we learn to let go to forgive? For me the answer is mindfulness paired with intentional psychedelic use. The mental flexibility encouraged by this process is incredibly powerful in its ability to heal. *thank you to Joe Lopes for the image
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The problem isn’t chaos. It’s our lifelong effort to eliminate it. In my work, I see nervous systems that learned early that unpredictability was dangerous. So they adapted by creating order—control, vigilance, emotional flattening. These strategies aren’t dysfunctional. They’re brilliant. And they quietly become the source of suffering. By adulthood, the attempt to make life predictable shows up as anxiety, burnout, trauma symptoms, or a dull sense of disconnection. Not because life became harder—but because the system is still fighting entropy. We do this collectively too. We try to dominate nature, smooth out cycles, flatten curves. We mistake stability for safety. Mindfulness-based and psychedelic-assisted approaches don’t remove uncertainty. They reveal something more uncomfortable and more freeing: uncertainty was never the threat, it was the denial of the true self to feel in control in a chaotic environment. In Buddhist psychology, suffering comes from resisting change. Secure attachment isn’t the absence of instability—it’s the capacity to remain present within it. Healing doesn’t happen when the curve disappears. It happens when we stop trying to straighten it.
“Everything rests upon the tip of intention.” This line is often attributed to the Buddha, and while the phrasing varies across translations, the meaning is consistent across early Buddhist psychology: intention (cetana) is the organizing force of experience. In the Buddha’s teaching, intention isn’t a wish or a positive thought. It is the direction of the mind. It is what shapes karma—not as fate or punishment, but as the momentum created by where the mind repeatedly leans. What we attend to, react to, avoid, cling to, or cultivate—this is intention in action. So when the Buddha says everything rests on the tip of intention, he is pointing to something very precise: Before action, before speech, before emotion fully forms—there is a subtle leaning of the mind. How are you helping clients set and follow intention? That leaning determines whether experience leads toward suffering or toward freedom.
Ram Dass once believed meditation and chanting were the primary paths to Gd. After his stroke, he recognised another path: trauma. He stated about his stroke, “My ego was traumatised but not my soul." That distinction clarified something essential for me as well. While my soul witnessed childhood trauma, it was not traumatised. The trauma resided in the ego. For decades, the ego functioned protectively through coping strategies and belief systems that were adaptive at the time, though later limiting. Through mindfulness practice and psychedelic use, these patterns have softened. How, in your trauma-informed work, are you helping clients access the part of themselves that was never traumatised?
Rumi once said, “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” Simple yet profound, this idea resonates deeply in today’s divided and distracted world. Rather than seeking external love, we’re challenged to confront the fears, traumas, and limiting beliefs that block our ability to love and be loved. The Challenge of Turning Inward Identifying these barriers is far from easy. Modern life, with its focus on achievement and perfection, makes self-reflection difficult. Our barriers—fear of vulnerability, need for control, or lack of trust—are deeply ingrained. Facing them requires courage and a willingness to sit with discomfort. Mindfulness as a Tool Mindfulness helps by fostering self-awareness. Through observing our thoughts and emotions without judgment, we begin to see how our barriers operate. It reveals that change doesn’t come from force but from gently accepting what is. While mindfulness simplifies the process of awareness, sustaining it amidst life’s distractions is challenging. Growth Through Struggle Struggling to confront these barriers is not a detour but the journey itself. Facing fears and questioning beliefs teaches us about ourselves. This process, central to psychotherapy, helps uncover unresolved pain or shame. As barriers dissolve, the love we sought externally emerges from within. Embracing the Journey Letting go into love involves embracing self-discovery. Mindfulness and therapy guide us to meet challenges with compassion, uncovering the natural love obscured by our defenses. By transforming ourselves, we become better equipped to heal our collective divisions. This inward journey—while difficult—is essential. Each step taken toward dissolving barriers brings us closer to the boundless love waiting within.
Psychedelics may be the most important advancement in the world of mental health....but they must be treated with care and respect.
Finding Compassion in a World of Suffering: A Buddhist Perspective When faced with murder, genocide, and oppressive leaders, it is natural to feel anger and a wish for retribution. If the death of a leader could save thousands, would it be justifiable? Buddhism offers a different perspective—one that preserves our humanity rather than diminishes it. The Buddhist Approach to Suffering Buddhism acknowledges suffering (dukkha) but teaches that our response shapes our hearts and minds. The Buddha warned against meeting hatred with hatred: “Hatred is never appeased by hatred. By non-hatred alone is hatred appeased.” This does not mean passivity but rather skillful action (upaya) rooted in compassion (karuna) and wisdom. Justice vs. Revenge Justice is often mistaken for punishment, but Buddhist psychology sees retribution as fueling the cycle of violence. Removing an individual does not eliminate the underlying conditions of fear, ignorance, and greed that enabled their rise. Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us that even harmful individuals suffer from delusions. Holding them accountable while transforming systemic causes creates lasting change. Mindfulness and Wise Action Mindfulness (sati) helps us engage with injustice without being consumed by anger. Meditation cultivates inner stability, allowing for meaningful activism and compassionate resistance. Instead of focusing on a leader’s removal, we ask: How do we prevent such harm from recurring? How do we break the cycle of violence at its roots? Hope Through Compassionate Action True change comes through nonviolent movements, education, and collective healing, not destruction. The mindful path ensures we do not become what we seek to overcome. Our greatest power lies in wisdom and compassion—planting seeds for a better world. Transforming Despair into Positive Action In times of crisis, it is easy to feel helpless or overwhelmed by the suffering in the world. However, falling into despair or depleting ourselves through excessive engagement with world events does not serve us or others. Instead, we can use our outrage, pain, and fear to deepen our connection to our own humanity. Rather than being paralyzed by suffering, we can allow it to spur us into meaningful, compassionate action—bringing light to darkness and fostering real change.
Mindfulness isn’t about feeling good—it’s about learning how to suffer well. And when we suffer well, we don’t have to suffer as much.
Nature doesn’t wait for perfect conditions — neither should we. Life keeps trying. Even in the hardest conditions, it finds a way to push through — imperfect, jagged, but alive. That’s the spirit of healing, too. Psychedelics and plant medicines don’t erase the cracks. They help us embody the persistence of that flower — growing not in spite of the difficulty, but through it. What looks broken can still be beautiful.