If focus is the act of stilling the waters of the mind, insight is what happens when we can finally see clearly what lies beneath the surface. This is the heart of mindfulness practice, known as vipassana or “clear seeing.” It’s the shift from simply calming the mind to using that calm, stable mind as a microscope to investigate the nature of our own experience. For me, this has been the most transformative part of the journey—the process of moving from simply observing my thoughts and feelings to gaining profound insights into who I am and how my mind works.
1. The Three Marks of Existence: A New Lens on Reality
The practice of insight is not about looking for anything special or mystical. It’s about looking at our ordinary, moment-to-moment experience with a new kind of clarity. Through this clear seeing, the wisdom traditions point to three fundamental characteristics of all experience, often called the “Three Marks of Existence.” Seeing these for myself, not as a philosophy but as a lived reality, has changed everything.
a) Impermanence (Anicca)
We know intellectually that everything changes. But to feel it in our bones is another matter. Through focused observation, I began to see this truth in every corner of my experience.
I would watch a single thought arise in my mind, seemingly from nowhere. I’d observe its shape, its texture. And then, just as suddenly, it would vanish. I would feel a sensation in my body—an itch, a warmth, a pang of discomfort. I would watch it, and without my doing anything, it would intensify, then fade, then disappear, often replaced by another sensation.
I saw that emotions, too, were like this. A wave of sadness would wash over me, feel incredibly solid and all-encompassing, and then, in time, it would recede. Even moments of joy, which I desperately wanted to cling to, would eventually transform into something else.
Seeing this constant flux, over and over again, began to loosen my grip. If everything is changing, why cling so tightly? If even the most painful feeling is impermanent, why fear it so much? This insight didn’t make life less painful, but it made me less afraid of the pain. It brought a sense of flow and ease into my life, a willingness to dance with the changing nature of reality rather than constantly fighting against it.
b) Unsatisfactoriness or Stress (Dukkha)
This is a concept that is often misunderstood as “life is suffering.” My experience of it has been more subtle. It’s the recognition of a fundamental, low-grade unsatisfactoriness that comes from seeking lasting happiness in things that are, by their very nature, impermanent.
I saw this in my own mind’s constant striving. I’d achieve a goal, feel a moment of satisfaction, and then almost immediately, the mind would ask, “What’s next?” I’d acquire something I wanted, and the pleasure would soon fade, replaced by the desire for something new.
Insight practice revealed this pattern of grasping and aversion. I saw how I was constantly pushing away unpleasant experiences and pulling pleasant ones closer, a tiring and ultimately futile game, because everything is impermanent. This constant pushing and pulling, this resistance to “what is,” is the source of so much of our stress and unhappiness. Dukkha is not the pain of a headache; it’s the extra layer of suffering we add by wishing the headache weren’t there.
Recognizing this didn’t make me passive or stop me from having goals. But it brought a new perspective. I could still work toward things, but with less desperate attachment to the outcome. My happiness became less dependent on getting what I wanted and more rooted in a sense of inner peace and acceptance, regardless of the external circumstances.
c) Not-Self (Anatta)
This is perhaps the most radical and counter-intuitive insight. We have a deep-seated feeling of a solid, permanent “me” at the center of our experience—the thinker of our thoughts, the feeler of our feelings.
Insight practice is a systematic deconstruction of this “self.” When I looked closely at a thought, I could see the thought, but I couldn’t find a “thinker.” The thought just arose. When I looked at a feeling, I could see the feeling, but I couldn’t find a permanent “feeler” separate from the feeling itself.
I began to see that what I call “myself” is actually a constantly changing process, a collection of interconnected physical and mental events. It’s more like a verb than a noun. There is no fixed CEO in the headquarters of my mind. There is just the process of thinking, feeling, sensing, happening from moment to moment.
This insight is profoundly liberating. If there is no fixed, solid self to protect and defend, I can take things less personally. Criticism from others doesn’t land on a solid “me”; it’s just another event in awareness. My successes and failures are not a final verdict on “my” worth; they are just passing moments in a lifelong process. This doesn’t lead to a sense of annihilation, but to a feeling of expansion and connection. If “I” am not this limited, separate self, then I am part of a much larger, interconnected web of life.
2. The Practice of Insight: “Noting”
How does one cultivate these insights? A common and powerful technique is “noting.” As I maintain a stable awareness, I use a soft, silent mental label for whatever experience is most predominant in the moment.
If a thought about work arises, I might just note, “thinking.” If I feel a tightness in my shoulder, I note, “pressure” or “tightness.” If I hear a bird singing outside, I note, “hearing.” If I feel a wave of impatience, I note, “impatience.”
The noting is not an analysis. It’s a simple, direct acknowledgment of the present experience. This practice does several things:
- It keeps me anchored in the present.
- It helps me see experiences as objective events, rather than getting lost in them. “Impatience” is an event; “I am so impatient” is a story.
- It reveals the impermanent, impersonal nature of experience. I see “thinking, thinking, hearing, pressure, thinking, feeling…”—a rapid, ever-changing stream of events, with no solid “me” in sight.
3. From Understanding to Freedom
Insight is not just an intellectual exercise. It’s a deep, experiential understanding that changes you from the inside out. It’s the difference between reading a map of a city and actually walking its streets.
By seeing for myself that everything is impermanent, that clinging to the impermanent leads to stress, and that there is no fixed self to be found, the chains of habit and reactivity begin to rust and fall away. I am less driven by unconscious cravings and aversions. I can respond to life with more wisdom, more flexibility, and more compassion.
The journey of insight is a journey of letting go. Letting go of our fixed ideas, letting go of our need to control, and ultimately, letting go of our limited sense of self. And in that letting go, we find a freedom that is more stable and more profound than any fleeting pleasure. We find a peace that is not dependent on things being a certain way, a peace that is always available, right here, in the clear seeing of this very moment.