Chapter 6: Befriending Your Emotions—A Dialogue with Your Inner Self

For a long time, I treated my emotions like unpredictable weather—a sudden storm of anger, a lingering fog of sadness. I was a passive experiencer, often feeling helpless and overwhelmed. Meditation, especially the practice of observing emotions, has been a turning point. It taught me that emotions are not my enemies, but rather messengers from my inner world. Learning to sit with them, listen to their stories, and understand their language has been one of the most profound and healing journeys of my life. It’s a process of transforming from being a slave to my emotions to becoming their friend.

1. The Nature of Emotions: Energy in Motion

The first and most crucial lesson I learned is that emotions, at their core, are simply “energy in motion” (e-motion). They are transient, flowing energies within the body, not permanent fixtures of my identity. An emotion is like a cloud passing through the vast sky of my awareness. It appears, lingers for a while, and then, if I don’t cling to it, it naturally dissipates.

This understanding was liberating. I realized I am not “an angry person,” but rather, “I am experiencing the energy of anger right now.” This subtle shift in language created a space between me and the emotion. I was no longer identified with it. This space is where freedom lies—the freedom to observe the energy without being consumed by it.

2. The RAIN Method: A Compassionate Guide for Emotional Storms

When strong emotions arise, it’s easy to get swept away. I found the RAIN method, a practice popularized by meditation teacher Tara Brach, to be an incredibly practical and compassionate guide for navigating these inner storms. It’s a simple yet powerful four-step process.

R – Recognize: “What is happening inside me?”

The first step is simply to acknowledge what is present. It’s a gentle, non-judgmental recognition. When a wave of anxiety washes over me, instead of ignoring it or pushing it away, I pause and mentally whisper, “Ah, anxiety is here.” Or, “I’m feeling a tightness in my chest and a sense of dread.”

This simple act of naming the emotion is incredibly powerful. It’s like turning on a light in a dark room. The monster you imagined is often just a shadow. Recognizing the emotion stops the cycle of unconscious reaction and brings the experience into the light of awareness.

A – Allow: “Let it be there.”

This is perhaps the most challenging step. Our natural instinct is to fight, fix, or flee from unpleasant feelings. Allowing means giving the emotion permission to exist, just as it is, without trying to change it. It’s a radical act of inner hospitality.

I imagine opening a door in my heart and saying, “Sadness, you are welcome here. You can stay for a while.” This doesn’t mean I like the feeling, but I stop resisting it. Resistance is like trying to hold a beach ball underwater; it takes immense effort and eventually, it will pop up with even greater force. Allowing is letting the ball float on the surface. You can see it, feel it, but you are not fighting it. This non-resistance is what allows the emotional energy to begin to flow and transform.

I – Investigate: “What does this feel like in my body?”

Once I’ve allowed the emotion to be present, I can approach it with gentle curiosity. The key here is to shift from the story in my head (“He shouldn’t have said that to me!”) to the direct, physical sensation in my body.

I ask myself: “Where do I feel this anger in my body?” Is it a burning in my stomach? A tightness in my jaw? A surge of heat in my face? I explore the physical landscape of the emotion with the curiosity of a scientist. What is its size, shape, temperature, texture?

By grounding the investigation in the body, I bypass the mental loop of blame and rumination. I am no longer fueling the story. Instead, I am tending to the raw energy of the emotion itself. I often find that when I bring this kind of focused, kind attention to a physical sensation, it begins to soften and change.

N – Nurture: “What does this wounded part of me need?”

The final step is to offer kindness and compassion to the part of me that is hurting. After investigating the raw feeling, I can ask, “What does this feeling need from me right now?”

Often, the answer is simple. The anxious part of me might need a silent reassurance: “It’s okay, I’m here with you. You are safe.” The sad part might need the gentle touch of a hand on my heart. The angry part might need to be understood and validated: “I know you feel hurt and unseen.”

This step is about self-compassion. It’s about becoming my own inner ally, my own loving parent. I am no longer abandoning myself in times of emotional distress. Instead, I am turning toward the pain with tenderness. This act of nurturing is deeply healing. It teaches the wounded parts of me that they are not alone and that they are worthy of care.

3. From Reactivity to Wise Response

Practicing with my emotions in this way has fundamentally changed my relationship with them. The space between an emotional trigger and my reaction has widened.

Before, if someone criticized me, I would instantly react with defensiveness or anger. The “automated script,” as I called it in a previous chapter, would run unchecked. Now, I can often feel the initial sting of hurt or anger arise. But because I have practiced recognizing and allowing, I don’t have to be hijacked by it.

I can feel the heat in my chest (Recognize), take a breath and let it be there (Allow), notice the clenching in my stomach (Investigate), and offer myself a moment of kindness (Nurture). From this more grounded place, I can choose a wiser response. I might still decide to address the criticism, but I can do so from a place of clarity and self-respect, rather than from a place of wounded reactivity.

4. Emotions as Teachers

I’ve come to see my emotions not as problems to be solved, but as teachers offering valuable lessons.

  • Anger often points to a boundary that has been crossed or a deep sense of injustice. It’s a powerful energy that, when harnessed wisely, can fuel positive change.
  • Sadness reveals what I truly care about. It connects me to my heart and to the universal experience of loss and love.
  • Fear and Anxiety are messengers that tell me I’m stepping outside my comfort zone or that I need to prepare for something important. They highlight what I value and want to protect.
  • Joy is a compass pointing toward what nourishes my soul. It shows me when I am aligned with my true self.

By befriending my emotions, I am learning to read their messages. They are no longer scary monsters in the dark, but wise guides on the path of self-discovery. The dialogue with my inner self has become richer, more honest, and infinitely more compassionate. It’s a conversation that continues to unfold, one breath, one feeling at a time.