It’s easy to practice on the “good” days. Or even on the neutral days. Meditation, once part of your routine, is like brushing your teeth, getting dressed, or anything else that you do on a daily basis. But what about on one of those days? Not a bad hair day or when you’re feeling a little cranky. I mean when you’re in what I call the “deep, dark, scary place,” where depression, powerlessness, grief, vulnerability, shame, addiction, fear, or despair leave you feeling like life is a game you’re not very good at.

When we feel this way, we are more likely to skip out on meditation or self-care. Either we simply don’t have enough energy for it, or we don’t care enough. It’s not worth it. We’re not worth it. This is when we need this practice the most. Because, most often, what happens when we sit down and get quiet with ourselves and this (sometimes infuriating) game of life, we notice a few things:

1. Every thought, sensation, and emotion is temporary.

Our mind will be jumping from thing to thing so quick that you might actually forget what it was that you were distressed about in the first place (and then you’ll judge yourself for that). Nothing lasts forever. Not sadness, not happiness, not anger. All is in flux, so if you’re overwhelmed by a certain experience in this moment, just stay with it, because just like a subway train, a new one will come along any minute now.

2. We are capable of observing our mind and body from a safe distance, which allows us to depersonalize the content.

There’s a tremendous difference between being lost in thought and being aware that you are thinking. Sometimes just noticing that we are wrapped up in a thought pattern (usually one that leads to depression or anxiety) is enough to stop it in its tracks and allow us to come to a more open state of mind. When we are aware, we have the choice to dispassionately let go of thought processes that are not serving our highest good.

3. This deeper part of ourselves – awareness – isn’t afraid, anxious, or sad, and it is within this level of consciousness that we can dwell and take refuge.

You are not your thoughts. The real you – the deepest, highest, truest you – is the one that is aware of thoughts. If you know you’re thinking, there absolutely has to be a higher part of yourself that is aware. You’re that. And that part of you is not afraid, sad, or angry. It’s just listening. Not judging. Open. Curious. Observing.

4. There’s something pretty damn comforting about feeling yourself breathing in and out.

Paying attention to the effortless rhythm of our breath reminds us at least something is working in our life, even if it seems like nothing else is. Mindfulness-based interventions teach that as long as you are breathing, there is more right with you than wrong with you. Breathing is the most essential process of our entire life experience. Pay attention to the rhythm, the ebb and flow, allow yourself to just ride the waves of the breath. It’ll take you home.

This is such a radically different way of caring for yourself than what you’re probably used to. Maybe the thought of “self-care” seems alien to begin with, but generally we do our best to not feel anything negative. We gravitate more towards numbing ourselves with tv, mind-altering substances, food, sex, etc. than responding to pain with presence. One of my favorite techniques I learned from Tara Brach is silently saying to myself, “and now this…” as a way of accepting what’s happening in the present moment without resistance.

Put your inner skills to work! Strengthen them by practicing every day so that you might be more relaxed in traffic, pause before that 3rd glass of wine, or snap on your partner. But mostly, practice so that when the shit really hits the fan, looking within for strength seems like the most natural thing in the world. Practice so that you trust with your whole heart that you’ll come through this any moment now with your soul and sanity intact and with a little more wisdom than you had before.

If no one’s told you yet today, you’re doing okay. Breathe, feel, allow, and be. Who knows what the next moment will bring?

The poem below is always very comforting to me, perhaps someone else will find value in it. Sending anyone reading this post right now a lot of love. Trust yourself, you’ve got this.

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.