Why We Detach From Our Thoughts and Feelings When Talking to Our Mats

Did you ever wish you could “zoom out” on your life, observe it from a distance, an outsider’s point of view, and fix what’s wrong with it? Of course, you can’t do that, not really — but you can come close while talking to your mat. The secret is detaching from your thoughts and feelings. 

Doing so isn’t easy. However, it can be a powerful technique for those using their contemplative time on the mat to heal from psychological trauma. Reconnecting with yourself after a shattering experience shares a lot in common with transforming a neglected property into a sustainable farm, as I’m discovering here at A Quiet Place while I continue my own recovery work. I’ll use this metaphor to better explain the process of gaining detachment and developing healthier thought processes on the yoga mat. 

“You Are Not Your Thoughts and Feelings Any More Than You Are Your Arm or Your Leg” 

If you follow the show, you know I often remind you that you are no more your thoughts and feelings than you are one of your limbs. What are you? Who are you? What makes you, well, you? While various theories abound, it’s clear that you are a miraculous combination of various traits and factors, all of which form a part of the totality of your creation. 

However, because your thoughts and feelings are a part of you, it’s easy to confuse them with being you. That’s where you can run into trouble because your ideas and emotions may not accurately reflect reality at the moment. Your thoughts and feelings form your beliefs, which in turn guide your behavior. If that behavior isn’t appropriate for the current reality in which you find yourself, you might not like the consequences much. 

Since your thoughts and feelings are a part of you, it’s impossible to detach from them completely. However, you can distance yourself, “zooming out” during quiet, contemplative practices like yoga. Doing so alters your perspective, allowing you to reflect on your thoughts and feelings from as close to an outsider’s point of view as possible. 

It also presents a clearer view of your thoughts and feelings in the context of the reality in which you exist at the moment. When you can step outside yourself and notice, “Jennifer is having the thought that X,” or “Jennifer is experiencing X emotion,” you form the necessary distance to observe those thoughts or feelings in light of the circumstances that prompted them to arise in you. From there, you can ask, “Is my knee-jerk reaction representative of the way I would like to respond in this situation? What is most likely to happen if I persist in this pattern of thinking and behavior? Is that what I want to happen? If not, how can I best align my emotions, ideas, and actions to restore my sense of inner peace, while achieving harmony and balance in my external world as well?”

Recognizing and Correcting Maladaptive Patterns on the Mat

Engaging in this detachment process is how I began the process of transforming my life. It’s also how I recognized my neurodivergence, unraveling a mystery that had plagued me my entire life. 

I’ve participated in some truly deplorable behavior in my day, mostly saying mean, hurtful things, throwing things, screaming, and acting erratically when my stress levels reached a fever pitch. It happened more often as my symptoms from other chronic health conditions grew worse and my life spiraled into poverty and despair. I recognized there was a problem, but not why. 

I have always wanted to know what was wrong with me. I knew something was, but I couldn’t figure out what. Part of my healing process involved listening to psychology lectures while I engaged in restorative yoga. That’s when I saw the light, and it hit me with the full force of an oncoming train. 

Although I knew the definitions of various psychology terms, it wasn’t until I watched numerous role plays while in this contemplative, “talk to your mat” state that I recognized that my outward behavior during such episodes was indistinguishable from narcissistic rage. I was able to see myself as an outsider did — and I was horrified. 

The thing was, these role plays also included the thoughts, feelings, and motivations such individuals have that fuel their outward behavior. These weren’t at all reflective of my inner experience. I didn’t feel envious of others, I didn’t need admiration or for other people to envy or admire me, I didn’t think I was any more or less important than anyone else. I just needed a little assistance, desperately, as I had already lost everything. I was screaming “help me, you (insert derogatory cuss word here)” while no one even listened. 

It simply hadn’t previously occurred to me that the reason they weren’t listening is because they didn’t appreciate being called derogatory cuss words. That’s how people in my family of origin spoke, and, like many autistic folks, I am one monkey-see-monkey-do-and-repeat sort of gal. I copy/paste phrases and behaviors from other people and movies because I have this giant blank spot when it comes to what the appropriate thing to do is in rapidly fluctuating social situations. Whereas other people can keep up with banter and respond instinctively, my conversational processing time is so slow that I’m still thinking about what someone else said 30 minutes ago when they want an answer to what they said in the past three seconds. The easy solution? Insert a well-worn phrase like slapping a band-aid on a sliced aorta. 

Once I recognized the mismatch between my inner thoughts and outward behavior, the obvious answer was to modify my outward behavior. There was only one unresolved loose end: everything I was learning about personality disorders strongly suggested that such traits are pretty darn intractable. A narcissist does not simply see their misbehavior acted out on screen and say, “Oh, well, now that just isn’t appropriate! Yikes! I need to work on this. Like yesterday!” 

It took a lot more time on the mat watching copious videos, accompanied by reading books authored by licensed psychologists, to figure out the answer. I later sought testing to confirm my diagnosis, mostly because I needed the validation. My healing work continues to this day, with every session I teach and off the mat as well. However, it was detaching from my thoughts and feelings long enough to look at them from an outsider’s perspective that revealed the answer I had previously sought for 52 years without success. Doing so allowed me to learn my triggers, to identify them as a combination of unbearable sensory experiences and anxiety, and establish a lifestyle and healthy interventions for myself to avoid meltdowns, now that I understood the impact they had on others. 

Even though my struggles continue, my life is a million times better today, as are my relationships. It all began with building sufficient detachment from my thoughts and feelings to see them for what they were and make the necessary adjustments. 

“Between the Stimulus and Response, There is a Space”

Psychologist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl wrote, “Between the stimulus and response, there is a space. In this space is the power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” What detaching from your thoughts and feelings on the mat does is provide invaluable practice at recognizing this space.

Your mat is your rehearsal hall, but you’ll notice that you begin to notice this “space” in everyday life — and that’s when magical transformation can also start if you so desire. The good news is, the more you practice, the easier recognizing this space and exercising what psychologists call emotional regulation becomes. The better able you are to regulate your emotions, the better you can get along in a society where daily life means encountering countless different people and their worldviews daily.

A few months ago, I shared a story on one of our shows about losing my keys at our local recycling center. Previously, these circumstances would have prompted a panic-driven meltdown. However, because I had been talking to my mat for several years at that point, I recognized the space. I took a deep breath. I realized that melting down, shouting at my Only in Sedona partner, Ed, whom I had called for help, would only make matters worse. I used my coping mechanisms to stay calm, even though I felt anxious. 

The true miracle, though, was that it was not as hard to remain calm as it would have been a few months or years in the past. While I still experienced anxiety, I was able to manage it with the patient, guiding hand of an experienced equestrian wrangling an unruly stallion, not that of a bumbling greenhorn. I still tear up thinking about the relief I felt in the wake of that seemingly meaningless experience: I can manage my emotions instead of letting my circumstances control them and me? What? 

The healing work you do on the mat changes you. It changes your very physiology, rerouting neural pathways and slowing the production of stress chemicals in response to the slightest external stimuli. The process isn’t fast, nor is it easy. Yoga and mindfulness are not quick-fix, overnight solutions to transforming your life. However, they produce meaningful growth that doesn’t flee at the first sign of adversity, either. The effects you get from talking to the mat won’t wear off like the high from a pill. They’re much more subtle, but also more enduring. 

How to Detach From Your Thoughts and Feelings When Talking to Your Mat

Detaching from your thoughts and feelings on the mat may look different for each person, based on your unique neurological makeup. Here are a few tricks you can try to make the process easier. 

1. Talking to Yourself 

If you practice in the privacy of your living room, which is what Only in Sedona strives to make easy and free, you can speak your thoughts and feelings out loud as they occur. I call this the “Doc Snipes” approach, after one of my favorite YouTube psychologists. If you watch her videos, one cognitive-behavioral approach she recommends for building detachment is simply to say, “I’m having the thought that…” For example, “nobody likes me” becomes, “I’m having the thought that nobody likes me.” 

Sometimes, I’ll add a narrative therapy twist to this, imagining myself as a character in a book. I’ll even refer to myself in the third person: “Jennifer thought that” or “Jennifer felt.” Using this approach is useful for drawing the connection between thoughts, behaviors, and consequences. How would the story go after Jennifer thought that? What if Jennifer thought something else? What if Jennifer thought this and proceeded with this belief? 

2. Taking Notes 

I’m more visual and tactile than auditory and write far better than I speak (as folks who have heard me stumbling over my words on the show no doubt notice). Perhaps it's only fitting that the detachment technique that works best for me is imagining a little neutral scientist in my head, observing my thoughts and feelings from the outside. 

She has red hair, glasses, a lab coat, and a notebook. She jots down each thought and feeling that pops into my head, then turns to a new page. Turning over a new leaf is a critical component of this exercise — it keeps me from ruminating too long on any one idea. Just thought-jot-flip. 

3. Feelings and Thoughts Are Like Clouds

They really are. The average emotion only lasts 90 seconds. How is it, then, that some people can be depressed for years? While there are probably multiple explanations, one reason is that feelings trigger thoughts, which in turn trigger feelings, making it very easy to get caught in a negative reinforcement mental loop where continued rumination creates the very chains that bind you. 

Although I don’t employ this technique often, I used it constantly in the days following the loss of my beloved Poe. As wave after wave of grief threatened to send me spiraling down thoughts of no longer wishing to exist, so deep was the pain, I just wanted, needed it to end, I reminded myself again and again this, too, shall pass, in 90 short seconds. Hold on. Of course, it wouldn’t take long before another wave engulfed me, but that little break of coming up for air in between was enough to keep me from drowning. 

Break these chains by picturing your thoughts and feelings as clouds. See them enter your head with the words written on them, then let them break up in your mind, dissipating the way clouds do. When you begin to recognize that your emotions don’t last forever, their hold on you loosens, giving you just enough freedom to choose to engage in alternative patterns that may lead you to a brighter place. 

Is There Danger to Detachment? 

Could detaching from your thoughts and feelings, even if only partially and temporarily, be dangerous? I honestly cannot say. As I often remind people, I’m not a psychologist, just a chronically ill and extremely traumatized autistic person putting myself back together by talking to my mat and sharing what has helped me in the hopes of assisting others. Anything can have a dark side, and it’s possible that practicing detachment could make people with different temperaments more psychopathic. 

However, detachment is not repression. You aren’t shoving your thoughts and feelings down on the mat. You’re recognizing them, validating them, then either letting them go or considering whether they serve you and where they may lead. That’s hopefully not in a “Dexter”-esque direction. 

I can only speak from experience, but the effect of detachment on me has been utterly positive. Recognizing how my learned behaviors impact other people by stepping back and observing myself from an outsider’s perspective has inspired me to be far more compassionate, kind, patient, and understanding. It springs from a place of genuine love, and each show we produce and each article I write originates from the same place, a sincere base of loving-kindness. I’m okay with admitting I’m one messed-up mamacita these days, but I’m getting better — and I want others to experience the same healing. 

While there may be a dark side to the temporary detachment we engage in on the mat, I’ve yet to experience it. Still, we repeat our frequent caveat: we are not doctors. 

Detachment, Sustainable Farming, and Healing on the Yoga Mat 

The inspiration for this article came to me while I was hand-pulling tumbleweed from amid the mustard greens and winding 4 O’clock here at A Quiet Place, the fixer-upper property we’re transforming into a sustainable farm and yoga retreat. One goal is to turn the front slope into a vine-covered food forest, but I’d like everything in it to be soft, pretty, or edible. That means getting rid of the tumbleweeds, goatheads, and cat claws to make more room for more desirable plants to grow. 

The physical act of selecting what to pull and what to leave reminded me of the process of detaching and observing my thoughts and feelings on the mat. “Oh, there’s a cat claw (maladaptive thought). Better pull it up before it starts to spread and cover everything else with thorns.” I mentally compared the process of weeding my slope to pruning my neural pathways. The thoughts and feelings that served me? They stayed. Heck, give them a little compost and water to help them grow. Those that didn’t? Add them to the burn pile and watch them dissipate in smoke. 

Just like hand-pulling weeds, straightening up your mental mess takes time, especially if your brain is as traumatized as mine. Sometimes, especially after a hard rain, the process seems impossible. So many weeds, so many negative thoughts — it’s like mucking the Augean stables. 

However, after keeping at it for a few months, I’m slowly beginning to be able to walk barefoot among the emerging grapes and other vines without my feet becoming covered in thorns. On a day-to-day basis, it feels like I’ve accomplished nothing. Yet after a few months, the difference in the before-and-after pictures is night and day. 

Maybe that’s yet another mental exercise you can use to practice detachment on the mat. Visualize each thought or feeling that emerges as a plant. Examine it. Is it one you want to water or add to the burn pile? Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh compares your mind to a piece of land planted with all different kinds of seeds. Which seeds do you wish to water and let grow? Which fields do you wish to lay fallow? 

Why We Detach When Talking to Our Mats 

When I remind folks on the show that you are not your thoughts or feelings any more than you are your arm or leg, you now have a better understanding of what I mean. While they are a part of you, they aren’t the entirety of the wonderful creation that is you. Stepping back from them provides the necessary distance to observe what’s going on inside of you objectively. What you bring into conscious awareness, you have the power to change. 

Practicing detachment on the mat provides necessary insight into what you can change. Viktor Frankl also wrote that the last of all human freedoms is that to choose your attitude in any given set of circumstances — any reality in which you find yourself. Detaching from your thoughts and feelings on the mat helps you exercise this freedom and achieve a greater sense of inner peace even in stormy situations.