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mindfulness

There’s a voice in your head right now.

No, not mine, yours. The one reading these words, but also commenting on them. The one that’s already formed an opinion about this introduction before you’ve finished it. The one that’s planning what to eat later, worrying about that conversation yesterday or wondering if you’re “doing mindfulness right” as you read this.

Here’s what fascinates me: most of us live our entire lives inside that voice, completely unaware that we’re listening to it. We think we are the voice. We don’t notice that there’s also a space behind it, a place of simple awareness that exists before the commentary begins.

Last week, I wrote about the qualities that make counsellors effective. About genuineness, acceptance and empathy. About how the person being the therapist matters more than any technique they use. But that raised an obvious question: how do you actually develop those qualities? How do you become more self-aware? More present? Less reactive?

The answer, according to a growing body of research, might be simpler and harder, than you’d expect.

What if the most powerful tool for understanding yourself and others isn’t a technique you learn, but a quality of attention you cultivate?

And what if the cost of not cultivating it, for counsellors and for the rest of us, isn’t just missing out on benefits, but actively causing harm?

Disclaimer: I’m Maryam El Banziqui, a digital journalist with training in psychology and counselling. This deep dive comes from my research into the evidence on mindfulness, my conversations with practitioners and my own experiments with the practices I’ll describe. It’s an interpretive lens, what the research suggests, filtered through my curiosity, not medical advice or a substitute for professional support if you’re struggling.

The Self-Awareness Problem

Let’s start with a puzzle. Last week, I made a bold claim: that effective counsellors share certain qualities, genuineness, self-awareness, the ability to value clients as unique people. And I suggested these qualities matter more than techniques.

But here’s the uncomfortable question no one asks: How do you become more self-aware?

Think about it. You can’t just decide to be self-aware and suddenly be flooded with insight about yourself. You can’t read a book about genuineness and instantly become more real with people. There’s a gap between knowing what qualities matter and actually embodying them.

The psychology literature suggests a few paths. Seeking feedback from others, really listening when people tell you how you come across. Trying to see yourself from other people’s perspectives. Slowing down the quick assumptions we all make about ourselves and others.

But there’s a problem with all of these. They still rely on you, the same you that’s been operating on autopilot your whole life. The same you that’s developed habits of thinking, patterns of reacting, ways of defending yourself that happen automatically, beneath awareness. How do you observe yourself when the observer is part of what needs to be observed?

The insight: This is the paradox at the heart of self-development. The tool you’re using to do the work, your mind, is also what needs to be worked on. It’s like trying to repair the airplane while you’re flying it.

This is why mindfulness matters. Not as another technique to add to your collection, but as a way of training the observer itself. Before you can understand your patterns, you need to be able to see them. And before you can see them, you need to develop a quality of attention that can notice without immediately judging, reacting or trying to change what it sees.

What Mindfulness Actually Is (And Isn’t)

So what is mindfulness? The word gets thrown around so much these days, mindful eating, mindful parenting, mindful productivity, that it’s in danger of meaning nothing at all. Is it just… paying attention? And if so, haven’t humans been doing that forever?

Here’s the confusion. Mindfulness can be understood in several different ways:

  • As a state: a moment-to-moment awareness of your experience without judgment (Davis & Hayes, 2011)
  • As a practice: something you do, like mindful meditation
  • As a process: a way of processing information, listening mindfully, speaking mindfully
  • As a trait: some people are more dispositionally mindful than others

And to make it more complicated, mindfulness is often confused with related concepts. Self-consciousness, for example, the tendency to direct attention to your own thoughts and feelings. Or psychological mindedness, the awareness and understanding of psychological processes in yourself and others.

So what’s the difference?

The insight: The key distinction, as researcher E.N. Carlson (2013) put it, is that “self-focused constructs involve analysing, explaining or interpreting what is observed, whereas mindfulness involves observation of one’s experience without ‘telling a story.'”

This is subtle but crucial. Most of us, when we turn attention inward, immediately start interpreting. “Why am I feeling anxious? This must mean something is wrong. I need to figure this out and fix it.” Mindfulness is different. It’s just noticing. The anxiety is there. You observe it. You don’t add the commentary.

It’s the difference between being caught in a river and sitting on the bank watching it flow. The water is still moving. But you’re not being carried away.

The Research: Does This Stuff Really Work?

Okay, so mindfulness is a particular kind of attention, observation without storytelling. Beautiful idea. But does it actually do anything? Or is this just ancient wisdom repackaged for Instagram?

Over the past two decades, researchers have thrown themselves at this question with surprising enthusiasm. And the results, even for a sceptic, are genuinely interesting.

Let me walk you through what multiple major reviews have found.

Schumer et al. (2018) reviewed 65 studies involving nearly 5,500 participants, looking at mindfulness’s impact on depression, anxiety, stress and rumination. The finding: small but significant improvements across all four dimensions.

Leyland et al. (2018) reviewed 27 papers on mindfulness and self-regulation. The strongest effects? Enhanced ability to regulate negative emotions, improved executive function and decreased rumination.

For healthcare workers specifically, people under enormous stress, Gilmartin et al. (2017) reviewed 14 studies and found that brief mindfulness training reduced stress, anxiety and burnout, while improving mindfulness and resiliency.

And Janssen et al. (2018), reviewing 23 studies on Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (a short, structured programme), found reductions in stress, depression, anxiety and emotional exhaustion.

The insight: The pattern across all this research is consistent. Mindfulness training is associated with better emotional regulation, less reactivity, reduced stress and anxiety and improved wellbeing. The effects aren’t magic, they’re modest but meaningful. And they appear across different populations, different settings and different ways of measuring.

But here’s what really matters for our question about self-awareness and counsellor effectiveness. These aren’t just “feeling better” benefits. They’re functional benefits. Better self-regulation means better decision-making. Less reactivity means more thoughtful responses. Reduced rumination means more mental freedom to actually attend to what’s happening in front of you.

Why Counsellors Are Turning Inward

So mindfulness helps with stress and emotional regulation. That’s nice. But for counsellors, people whose job is to sit with suffering all day, the stakes are higher than just feeling better.

Here’s a fact that doesn’t get discussed enough: counsellors and mental health professionals are at significant risk of burnout, compassion fatigue and a range of psychological impairments. You can’t spend your days absorbing other people’s trauma, sitting with their pain, holding space for their darkest moments and walk away unaffected.

The irony is that the very qualities that make someone a good counsellor, empathy, openness, emotional availability, also make them vulnerable. You can’t care deeply without it costing something.

So the question becomes: how do you protect yourself without closing down? How do you stay open without being overwhelmed?

The insight: This is where mindfulness becomes not just helpful but essential for practitioners. It offers a way to be with intense emotion, both the client’s and your own, without being consumed by it. To observe pain without becoming it. To feel deeply while maintaining enough distance to still be useful.

Schure et al. (2008) studied this directly. They gave counsellors-in-training 15 weeks of mindfulness meditation training and then asked them how it affected their work. The results were striking. Students reported:

  • Increased comfort with silence in sessions
  • Being more attentive to the therapy process
  • Greater awareness of their own emotions and personal issues
  • More mental clarity and organisation
  • Increased tolerance of physical and emotional pain

One student described it as “increased awareness and acceptance of emotions and personal issues.” Another noted “increased mental clarity.” They weren’t just feeling calmer. They were working differently, more present, more aware, more capable of staying with difficult material.

The Benefits No One Talks About

We’ve covered stress reduction and emotional regulation. But the research on mindfulness reveals some less obvious benefits, ones that speak directly to that original question of how to become more self-aware and genuinely present with others.

Let me walk you through some findings that might surprise you.

Self-control. Baumeister and colleagues (2006) suggested that anything improving self-regulation could give therapists “a powerfully helpful tool to improve therapeutic outcomes.” Mindfulness appears to enhance metacognitive abilities, the capacity to monitor your own thoughts and feelings, which is exactly what self-regulation requires.

Affect tolerance. Fulton (2005) found that mindfulness increases the ability to “sit with” intense emotions. This matters because in counselling, strong feelings are often the very thing that needs to be explored. If you can’t tolerate them, you’ll unconsciously steer clients away from the material that matters most.

Decreased emotional reactivity. Goldin and Gross (2010) showed that mindfulness reduces reactivity, creating “space” to work with emotions rather than just mindlessly reacting to them.

Increased empathy. Dekeyser et al. (2008) found a link between mindfulness and empathy, that core condition Rogers identified as essential for therapeutic change.

Reduced prejudice and stereotyping. Djikic et al. (2008) found that mindfulness interferes with automatic stereotyping processes, allowing people to be more aware of assumptions they might be making.

Less defensive behaviour. Lakey et al. (2008) found that more mindful individuals showed less verbal defensiveness, less tendency to avoid responsibility or protect their self-concept when challenged.

The insight: Notice what these benefits have in common. They’re not about feeling good. They’re about functioning betterin precisely the ways that matter when you’re trying to help another human being. Less defensiveness means you can hear feedback. Less reactivity means you can stay present with difficult emotions. Reduced stereotyping means you’re less likely to impose your assumptions on clients. Increased empathy means you can actually understand their experience.

Mindfulness, in other words, doesn’t just make you calmer. It makes you better at the work.

What the Science Says About Mindful Therapists

Here’s the question that really matters: does any of this translate to client outcomes? Does the therapist’s mindfulness actually help the people they’re trying to serve?

There’s a study by Grepmair et al. (2007) that should be better known. They compared therapists-in-training who received mindfulness training with those who didn’t and then looked at the outcomes for their patients.

The results were remarkable. Patients treated by the mindful therapists:

  • Rated their individual therapy more highly
  • Evaluated the outcomes of therapy more positively
  • Showed greater symptom reduction

Think about what this means. The therapist’s mindfulness, something the patient might never even know about, affected how much they improved. The quality of the therapist’s attention, their capacity to be present, their ability to regulate their own internal experience… all of this translated into better results for the people sitting across from them.

The insight: This is the evidence that stops being abstract and becomes deeply practical. Mindfulness training for therapists isn’t self-indulgent. It’s not a nice extra. It’s directly connected to how much clients benefit from therapy.

The therapist’s internal state matters. Their capacity to be present matters. Their ability to observe their own thoughts and feelings without being captured by them matters. And all of these can be trained.

Training Your Attention: Simple Exercises That Actually Work

So mindfulness matters. The research is compelling. But how do you actually do it? How do you develop this quality of attention if it doesn’t come naturally?

I need to be honest with you about something. When I first tried to meditate, I was terrible at it. My mind raced. I felt restless. I kept checking the clock. I was convinced I was “doing it wrong” because I couldn’t stop thinking.

Here’s what I learned: that experience is normal. It’s not a sign of failure. It’s the whole point.

The practice isn’t about having a clear mind. It’s about noticing when your mind isn’t clear and gently, without judgment, bringing it back. Over and over. Thousands of times. That returning is the practice.

The insight: Here are some simple exercises that researchers and practitioners recommend. Start with any of them. Five minutes is enough.

The Mindfulness Minute. Stop for one full minute. Become aware of your breathing and bodily sensations. Let your mind settle. When it wanders and it will, just bring it back.

Mindful Eating. Eat one or two meals a week alone, in silence. Slow down. Notice the tastes, colours, textures and shapes of your food. Just observe.

Mindful Activity. Choose an ordinary activity, showering, washing up, cleaning and slow it down. Notice the sound and temperature of the water, its pressure on your skin, the smell and feel of soap.

Nature Noticing. Take moments throughout the day to notice something natural, plants, animals, clouds, the moon. Really look. Notice colours, movements, details you’d normally miss.

Mindful Listening. Put on music and really listen. Let yourself hear the sounds without doing anything else. When your mind wanders to judgment (“I like this,” “I don’t like this”), just return to the sound itself.

Conversation Presence. When talking with someone, put down your phone. Turn away from screens. Be fully present. Notice when you’re planning what to say next and return to actually listening.

There are also guided meditations available online, lots of them, for free. The key is consistency, not duration. Five minutes daily will do more than an hour once a month.

[Links: Guided meditations can be found at mbsr.co.uk or on YouTube, I’ve included some in the resources below.]

Conclusion: The Radical Act of Paying Attention

Let me return to where we started. That voice in your head, the commentator, the planner, the worrier, the judge. It’s not going anywhere. That’s not the goal.

The goal is something simpler and more radical: to know that you’re not just the voice. That there’s also the space in which the voice arises. That you can learn to rest in that space, even for moments at a time and watch the voice without being controlled by it.

For counsellors, this capacity isn’t optional. It’s foundational. You can’t be genuinely present with a client if you’re lost in your own internal commentary. You can’t offer unconditional positive regard if you’re unconsciously judging. You can’t empathise if you’re too busy planning what to say next.

But here’s the thing that gives me hope: mindfulness can be developed. It’s not a fixed trait you’re born with or without. It’s a skill, like learning an instrument or a language. It requires practice. It requires patience. It requires failing repeatedly and starting again. But the research is clear: it works.

Take one moment today to notice your thoughts without engaging or judging them.

Next read: The Invisible Art of Being Present: What Makes a Counsellor Truly Effective? It highlights awareness as the foundation of emotional intelligence. It improves clarity, empathy, and responsiveness in relationships. This practice strengthens presence in both personal and professional contexts. It invites a more conscious and compassionate way of living.


10 FAQs

Do I have to meditate to be mindful?

Meditation is training for mindfulness, like going to the gym is training for strength. You can be mindful without meditating, but meditation develops the skill more efficiently. Think of it as practice for the real game: living mindfully.

I tried meditating and my mind was ALL OVER THE PLACE. Am I doing it wrong?

Nope! That’s exactly what happens. The practice isn’t having a quiet mind, it’s noticing when your mind isn’t quiet and gently bringing it back. That noticing-and-returning is the practice. You’re doing it right.

How long until I see benefits?

Research suggests some benefits appear quite quickly, even after a few weeks of regular practice. But like any skill, deeper benefits develop over months and years. The key is consistency, not intensity.

Isn’t mindfulness just Buddhism repackaged for Westerners?

Mindfulness has roots in Buddhist meditation traditions, but the modern secular versions studied by researchers have been adapted for clinical and general use. You don’t need any spiritual beliefs to benefit; it’s presented as a psychological skill, not a religious practice.

Can mindfulness be harmful for some people?

For most people, it’s beneficial. But some research suggests that intensive meditation can sometimes trigger difficult experiences, particularly for people with a history of trauma or certain mental health conditions. If you have concerns, it’s worth talking to a qualified teacher or therapist.

How is mindfulness different from just relaxing?

Relaxation is about reducing tension. Mindfulness is about attending to whatever is present, which might be tension or anxiety or restlessness. Paradoxically, this non-judgmental attention often leads to relaxation, but that’s a side effect, not the goal.

Do I need to do it every day?

The research on “dose” isn’t definitive, but most teachers recommend daily practice, even if brief. Consistency matters more than duration. Five minutes daily is more effective than an hour once a week.

Can children practice mindfulness?

Yes, and there’s growing evidence it helps with attention, emotional regulation and stress. The practices need to be age-appropriate, shorter, more concrete and more playful, but children as young as 4 or 5 can benefit.

How do I know if I’m “doing it right”?

Helpful question: are you noticing your experience more than you were before? Are you able to observe thoughts and feelings without being completely swept away by them, even occasionally? If yes, it’s working. There’s no perfect state to achieve.

What’s the single most important thing to remember?

When you notice you’ve been distracted, that’s a moment of mindfulness. Seriously. The moment you realise “I’ve been daydreaming for the last five minutes” is mindfulness arising. Celebrate it. Don’t criticise yourself for being distracted; that awareness is the practice.