It’s Not You, It’s Us: Rethinking How Mindfulness Is Talked About in Therapy

Mindfulness is everywhere these days. Therapists recommend it, apps sell it, articles praise it. You have probably heard that mindfulness is supposed to help with stress, anxiety, even trauma. And the research does back that up; mindfulness can be incredibly helpful.

But here is the catch: mindfulness by itself is not enough. When I say that out loud in session, so many people breathe a sigh of relief. They tell me things like:

“Oh my god, I’m so glad to hear you say that. My last therapist only wanted me to do mindfulness.”

If you have ever felt that way, you are not alone. It is not because you "suck at mindfulness." It is because, as mental health professionals, I think we need to do a better job of talking about mindfulness in a way that feels useful, safe, or human.

Mindfulness is already woven into so much of what we do, even if it is not called that. In EMDR, for example, when you have one foot in a memory and one foot in the present, that is mindfulness. Taking a timeout, doing a check-in, simply noticing what is happening in your body, all mindfulness. You have probably practiced it without realizing it.

And here is another important distinction: mindfulness and meditation are not the same thing. Meditation is one way to practice mindfulness, and it is a really valuable tool, one I believe most people can benefit from at least occasionally (and I will be getting on a soap box about meditation soon). But mindfulness is broader. To put it simply, all meditation is mindful, but not all mindfulness is meditation. Mindfulness can be as simple as noticing your shoulders tense when you are anxious, catching it when your brain starts to spiral, labeling your automatic negative thoughts/cognitive errors, or catching yourself zoning out and gently coming back. Meditation is just one doorway.

So why then do so many people still feel turned off by mindfulness? One reason is that the word has been thrown around so much that it has started to feel like pop psychology, a buzzword people associate with shallow advice or quick fixes. If you have ever rolled your eyes when someone suggested mindfulness for anxiety or mindfulness for trauma, that reaction makes sense. When something is reduced to a cliché, it stops feeling meaningful.

All of this points to a few important truths. Mindfulness is the foundation that the rest of the work is built on. You cannot really do EMDR, exposure, or relational repair without some capacity to notice and stay present. But even though it is necessary, it is not sufficient. Mindfulness can support those processes, but it is not a replacement for them.

Authenticity also matters more than sounding perfectly zen. For some people, a serene and calming voice is exactly what feels safe. But for many surface-level peace delivered in that stereotypical “zen healer” tone feels hokey and therefore does not feel trustworthy. Those people are more likely to trust someone who feels real and grounded, even if that does not sound polished or serene.

So if mindfulness has not worked for you before, that does not mean it cannot. It probably means the way it was talked about did not meet you where you were. My encouragement is this: let mindfulness be simple, flexible, and human. Let it support your healing, but do not feel pressured to accept it as a cure-all. Give yourself permission to explore the many different ways mindfulness can look. It will not be the same for everyone, and that is exactly the point. Mindfulness is not one size fits all, because at its core it is about getting to know yourself, not anyone else. When mindfulness fits you, it stops feeling like homework and starts feeling like coming home. And once you learn how to come home to yourself, you are likely to find the benefit that everyone keeps talking about.