When “calm” is a four-letter word

A meditation master will never instruct students to be calm; he simply invites students to be present. Calm is not discussed until advanced stages of meditation practice when students are reminded that any attachment to calm or pleasant mental states is simply that – an attachment.

Calm is a side-effect of mindfulness, not the goal. Misinformation about this has very real consequences for young students. Teens tend react with aversion to the word “calm,” rolling their eyes during a session of mindfulness instruction, because on some level they know it’s not a correct mindfulness teaching. Asian meditation masters do not use the word “calm.” They talk about cultivating detachment and letting go of preferences for pleasant or unpleasant experiences. They tell students to focus on their breath and to create space for whatever mental states arise without trying to control them. 

In advanced stages of meditation practice, masters even warn students against attachment to calm, or pleasant mental states. This is because the long-term goal of meditation practice is to diminish attachment and aversion and in doing so, to develop an equanimous mind capable of facing and healing suffering. In short, we cannot heal what we cannot face. To insist on calm mental states in school is to instruct students to turn their attention away from that which needs healing. This creates a culture of denial as well as dangerous expectations in students that something is wrong with them if they don’t feel non-stop calm and happiness.

Let’s start with some examples of why it’s not correct to tell students to shift their mental states to calm when practicing mindfulness in education. Then I’ll explain why I prefer to use the word “quiet” instead of “calm.”

Example #1: Always practice mindfulness techniques on yourself first before teaching them to others. If you’re upset and someone says to you, “calm down,” do you feel more or less upset? Probably more upset. If you really want someone to cool down, it’s usually best to give the person space to feel what they need to feel until the upset burns out on its own.

Example #2: You don’t need to feel calm and peaceful to finish your work. Lots of people feel all kinds of unpleasant mental states throughout the day, power through them and achieve great success. Negative mental states are not something to fear or to eradicate. They are something we need to learn to face, work with and through. As the mind becomes accustomed to unpleasant difficulty, it adapts and difficulties begin to yield wisdom, perspective and creative solutions.

Example #3: Emotions and mental states are like weather. They arise and pass away of their own accord. We cannot control them; we can only observe them or choose to shift our attention to our breath or another object. This is our only power. Anyone who has done 7 hours of daily sitting meditation for 2 or 3-months at intensive meditation retreats knows that everyone hits a wall at some point. The calm dries up and reality remains. We cannot force calm. We cannot request calm. It arises and passes away of its own accord. If we could control our emotions and mental states, there would be far less suffering in the world. There would be no addiction, no jealousy. One of the profound truths of meditation practice is that we are not in control. Fortunately we can reconcile this with the realization that we do not need as much control as we think we do. At its full capacity, our mind is a crucible of tremendous power. It is able to face and transform its suffering.

More and more I’ve heard the word “calm” presented as the goal of mindfulness, in the media and among school counselors and teachers who have minimal or no meditation experience. Most likely the misuse of “calm” began with a failure to understand neuroscience. Americans have confused “physiological calming” of the nervous system (which recent neuroscience tells us occurs when students observe their mindful breathing) with a “calm mental state.” Calming the nervous system is different from shifting one’s mental state from upset to calm. The term “physiological” refers to physical body function, not the mind function. Although they are related, this is an important distinction. I’ve heard counselors and teachers telling defiant students to change their mental states to calm, when what they mean to say is not “calm down” but “quiet down.” Quiet is a much more practical goal. You are accepting the upset in children but asking them to respect their environment. We cannot choose our mental states but we can choose our behavior. A person can feel turbulent on the inside and still remain quiet, or at least turn down the volume, on the outside.

Quiet can lead to calm, but only if the word “calm” remains a silent, unspoken possibility - not a goal. A mindfulness instructor should always model the mental states he wants students to experience, but never demand that others feel them, which is just an act of aversion rather than acceptance of what is. When we tell students to feel calm rather than be quiet, we are asking them to deny their own realities rather than acknowledge and heal them. As mindfulness instructors we can diminish our aversion to unpleasant experiences and attachment to calm through long-term meditation practice, humble observation and by being honest about what is happening – not by denying reality. When we as instructors demonstrate the ability to face enormously unpleasant experiences, we provide a model for students to follow.

This is especially important when teaching students in special education. I witnessed an upset student with high-functioning autism repeatedly being told to shift his mental state to calm all day long by all the adults around him, who implored him to “breathe!” A highly sensitive student with a very mathematical and literal mind, he tried very hard. His tortured efforts to achieve calm sounded like this:

“I’m trying, I’m trying, I’m trying…. I’m bad, I’m bad, I’m evil, I’m evil.”

No matter how much he tried, he could not change his mental state from upset to calm and, while I can’t definitively say why he was saying “I’m bad, I’m evil,” I interpreted this reaction as similar to the reaction that many beginners have when they first try practicing mindfulness or meditation: they take a moment to be quiet, notice unpleasant sensations and immediately come to the conclusion that they are not good at mindfulness and quit. The expectation of a calm experience sabotages our ability to recognize correct practice - that in fact noticing what is actually happening is far more important than feeling a pleasant mental state. This student with autism may have decided he was defective because he couldn’t magically transform his mental state to “calm” as instructed. In this context, it is not the student who is bad, but the word “calm.” It is a four-letter word that should not be used to instruct. Mindfulness instructors should model calm, not demand it of others. When I began working with this student, he reported to me that his upset felt like heat in his body – a very perceptive observation. I told him not to try to make the heat go away, but to simply observe it until it cooled. I told him there was nothing wrong or evil about being upset. It just means he is human – just like me, just like everyone else. Unpleasant mental states are not a big deal. They arise and pass away just like pleasant ones, just like the weather. We acknowledge them and then shift our attention elsewhere when it’s appropriate.

While we are powerless to control the clouds of negative mental states that pass over our hearts, we can open our hearts to what is – pleasant or unpleasant – and learn to work with all forms of experience. When we accept our human imperfections, not attached to “good” mental states or fearful of “bad” mental states, detachment arises on its own and with it, calm. The moment we hold on too tightly to calm, a Buddhist concept known as “grasping,” the calm we seek slips away from us. It arises only when we do not seek it but instead work to stay present (with gentleness and love) with what is. That means facing all the aspects of our selves and our lives including those aspects that make us feel profound aversion and pain. It also means not forcing others to face their aversion and pain until they are ready.

This mindful process of opening the mind and heart to the full experience of our selves and our lives is a practice of discovery. When we choose it, there is no limit to the self-change and mental and physical well-being we can create for ourselves. When others prematurely force the concept of calm on us to control our behavior - when it is not our choice and we misunderstand it - the end result can be damaging and stop all progress on the mindfulness path. Don’t use “calm” to control others. Keep the calm to yourself. If you are truly calm yourself, it will be evident to others and serve as a quiet source of inspiration.

I’ve found that students with high functioning autism are usually right about most subjects and I always carefully contemplate what they say before correcting them in any way. When working with anxious students with autism, for example, often they will report accurately that their emotions are beyond their control. This is actually one of the first meditation insights into reality. Another insight is that what we don’t know far exceeds what we know. If we acknowledge the vast unknown, we allow each person’s mindfulness practice to unfold on its own without interfering or trying to control. We ask students to tell us what they notice and then use the Socratic method of questioning to guide them toward other aspects they might notice as well but we remain humble, scientific and in hypothesis-mode rather than claiming "right" answers.  We never tell students that what they have noticed is wrong because aspects of truth are possessed by all people even those who are emotionally disturbed and what seems like delusion in one moment can bloom into truth in the next. If you have sat for months in silence and faced yourself and your own demons, you are humbled and freed by that awareness. If you have not yet spent months on silent retreat, I highly recommend it. We can always practice mindfulness with others but we cannot guide others until we truly know ourselves and are willing to face our own suffering as well as the suffering in others.

The student with high-functioning autism who had been so traumatized by “calm-based” mindfulness instruction – equating his breath with his failure to control his emotions – was hyperventilating any time he watched his breath. As a result I could not use mindful breathing as a technique with him. Instead I took him outside and asked him to notice sounds. He spent a long time standing below the trees, with his head tilted skyward. As he listened to the wind, the birds, to the sounds of airplanes and cars, he calmed down naturally. I never forced him to use this technique but anytime he was extremely upset, I asked him how he would like to manage his upset. He began to do his mindful listening practice automatically during or right before periods of upset – stepping outside for a few minutes to shift his attention to the physical world and then returning to his work when he felt better. Ironically because I invited him to be present and not calm, his calm demeanor arose all by itself.

Copyright 2016 by Ellen McCarty.  All rights reserved.

Tiger Mother & the Lotus Heart

When tiger parents teach mindfulness aggressively to their children as a means of ambition, they fail to realize what monastics have known for thousands of years: true power arises when discipline is combined with the soft gentleness of a lotus heart.

When leaving one of my family mindfulness workshops in Silicon Valley, I overheard a father saying to his 6-year-old daughter, “We’re going to go home and you’re going to sit for fifteen minutes absolutely still. And if you can’t sit still for 15 minutes, you’re going to sit for another 15 minutes and then another - until you can do it.”

It’s a common and dangerous misconception. This father was very sincere during my workshop and easily accessed the deep calm of mindfulness practice. He had good intentions for his daughter but an entirely wrong approach to mindfulness instruction. Fortunately I caught the moment and was able to clarify for him what mindfulness is and is not. I reassured him that my assignment of 30 seconds of daily practice for his daughter was more than enough time for such a young child. If carried out, his plan could have damaged his daughter’s self esteem and given her a deep hatred of mindfulness, which should always be a safe space for personal growth not yet another measure of failure in our standards-obsessed culture.

Zen monk Thich Nhat Hanh, whom Martin Luther King, Jr. once nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize, emphasized how to properly ring a bell when I studied meditation with him in France in 1997. “We invite the bell to ring,” he said. “We do not strike the bell.” This quality of gentleness captures the correct relationship to ourselves and others during mindfulness practice. We invite our children to practice mindfulness. We create a safe space that they are grateful to experience. There are teachers and parents who are “bell strikers,” who teach mindfulness almost as a form of punishment, hissing, “Be mindful!” when actually a soft ring of the bell and gentle modeling of correct practice is the only effective delivery system.

Tiger parents want the best for their children but perhaps their definition of success is too narrow. We need to ask ourselves, what is most valuable in life: success, happiness or health? Most people would answer happiness or health yet tiger parents push their children so hard toward success that health and happiness can be compromised. In my mindfulness work with families since 2011, I have witnessed children under extreme academic pressure who have health problems like ulcers and tearing out their hair. I’m not talking about children born into poverty. These are middle and upper class children who are considered gifted or who have learning disabilities. Tiger parents too often decide that academic success is more important than their children’s mental or physical health even though without health, a person has far less value in the workplace. This excessive effort to achieve success creates imbalances with serious consequences.

One of the most important qualities of a mindfulness teacher is patience with oneself and others and a willingness to let things unfold rather than forcing progress. This is never clearer to me than when instructing children with learning disabilities or emotional problems. Parents of children with special needs often suffer intense stress. I do not judge them and do my best to support them with my mindfulness instruction. Unfortunately adults reacting with stress and impatience to a child’s condition create stress in the child as well. Scientific research tells us that stress exacerbates learning disabilities as well as emotional problems. This means that when adults are unable to accept unconditionally a child’s current state, their aversion ironically sabotages potential solutions. If they could accept a child’s current difficulties with calm and patience, the child’s stress would diminish – a good first step in the right direction.

Despite our modern culture, we have an ancient dysfunction in that we often cannot accept our own or another person’s imperfections. At the Olympic Games in Ancient Greece, there were no silver medals only gold. Communities shunned any athlete who came in second. I see this intense aversion to imperfection in modern advertisements, in the social comments people make about others in unfortunate situations. We are attached to superiority, to placing first. In contrast while Buddhist monastics strive for personal refinement, they practice intense discipline with an attitude of gentle kindness rather than aversion to imperfection. In this context, there is no attitude of superiority or inferiority, both of which are considered forms of mental illness. Because of this inherent kindness towards self and others, the Dalai Lama was unable to comprehend the concept of self-hatred, which seems much more universal in industrialized nations. 

When we adults want to eradicate rather than accept with kindness children’s imperfections, we make them fear the places where they fall short of expectation and plant seeds of self-hatred in their little minds that make it very difficult for them to then face and find solutions to their difficulties. I like to offer an antidote to self-hatred in the form of a mathematical analogy:

Perfection

Imperfection

Neither is true

The Japanese cultivate Bonsai trees, beautiful symbols for the process of gradual self-refinement. The tiniest snip here and there, the smallest adjustments. This is what the path of enduring change looks like. True perfection is actually attention to imperfection that is interested, patient and creative. There is attention to detail as well as to the big picture. Refinement is a work of joy, not aversion. It is an art form.

Parents and teachers often want instant solutions, a silver bullet, for problems and this is unfortunate because a fast solution often means it won’t hold. Deadline pressure only increases stress in children who become impatient with their own process rather than learning the power of patience. In reality the smallest improvement - the smallest increment of change - will also be the most enduring form of change. For the 6-year-old girl, that increment is 30 seconds of daily mindfulness practice. When that becomes easy, add another 30 seconds. With that level of incremental change over a long period of time, that little girl will easily sit for an hour a day by the time she is a young adult. Having increased her discipline so patiently and gently, she will have cultivated a mindfulness practice that will bring her no harm, only protection. Can we commit 15 years to achieving a goal or overcoming a challenge? Can we be so patient? When we want instant success right now, we often fail to see the right course of action. We pick the fruit before it ripens. We spoil our lives with impatience and its sister emotion, discouragement.

Patience, acceptance and incremental change are all part of moderation, a key tenet of Buddhist philosophy. It is through moderation that we are able to find the right balance of success and giving, effort and rest. For ambitious nations, moderation can be a difficult concept to grasp. In the late 90s when I was practicing meditation in Burma completing 91 days of silent retreat, I forced myself to practice sitting meditation for 3 hours at a time believing I would progress faster. One day my teacher told me that sitting more than one hour at a time was unnecessary, that walking meditation is just as valuable as sitting meditation. It was an ah-ha moment for me. I realized I was being ambitious and aggressive rather than patient and receptive. It was a call to gentleness.

It’s funny to think of now, my younger self sitting there with all of that unnecessary effort: where was I going? More importantly, where are we all going? Excessive striving may yield financial wealth but how much money equals true happiness or true security? Our ecosystem and stress levels (and stressed health) are asking us to slow down, take less – only as much as we need instead of as much as we can grab. Is our drive for perfection and excess driven by fear or a need for superiority or a need to belong? If it is, can we take time to stop and find a middle way through our choices? What would our world look like if we made decisions based on moderation rather than stress, which is a form of fear?

The stress, forcefulness and urgency we subject children to while educating their minds is also unnecessary. Excessive ambition and stress zaps energy and health for everyone involved: students, teachers and parents. In contrast, discipline practiced with patience preserves energy and creates greater endurance.  It reminds me of a biblical passage: “those with faith… will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31. Patience and commitment to slow evolution, to the long road of our lives, is the greatest expression of faith.

Mindfulness is about paying attention to ourselves, to others and to the world around us. When we pay attention, we progress through challenges with the right amount of effort. When we become out of balance or overly stressed, we are able to correct these imbalances by adjusting our choices – not in a one-time spectacular New Year’s Eve resolution, but in a daily practice of subtle pruning and nurturing. We become the Bonsai tree. We become a work of art.

Children with learning disabilities can teach us about acceptance of imperfections as we work to improve ourselves. Instead of pushing children with learning disabilities to be exactly like everyone else (as quickly as possible), we can help them shine in their own unique way. If honored for who they are rather than being measured against a harsh standard, they may discover entirely new ways of doing things. When we create a safe space for ourselves and our children and pay attention together, we notice more and more options and solutions. We become open and creative rather than restrictive and fearful. When we have the discipline to face our difficulties and the gentleness not to take those difficulties so seriously – when we trust our lives to unfold - the impossible slowly and gradually becomes possible.

Copyright 2014 by Ellen McCarty.  All rights reserved.

My interview with Bay Area Parent magazine

Bay Area Parent magazine published an article about my mindfulness lessons for families with children with Oppositional Defiant Disorder in their Sept. 2012 issue. Below is a transcript of the complete interview for readers who want the full context.

1. Please introduce yourself. How did you get into your line of work? What are your credentials? Where do you currently live and work?

Ellen McCarty, mindfulness instructor, www.ellenmccarty.com

An SFBA native, I earned my undergraduate and graduate journalism degrees in four years at Northwestern University. During that time, I began practicing meditation and yoga to cope with my stress-level. After graduating in 1997, I accepted a marketing job in Switzerland and signed up for a 1-week retreat with Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh in Plum Village, France. That week changed my life. I had dedicated 16 years of my life to understanding the academic world and at that point, I decided I wanted to invest more time in understanding myself. A year later in 1998 I ordained as a temporary Buddhist nun in Burma. For me that ordination was secular in nature. As I saw it, I was beginning my studies in eastern psychology – an ancient understanding of the human mind. I spent 70 days on silent retreat and then returned in 2000 for another 21 days. When I returned to the States, I taught English to Burmese monks living in San Jose, Calif. and continued my meditation practice under their guidance. Working with children with severe emotional problems happened by accident. As a freelance journalist in my 20s, I also worked as a part-time nanny to supplement my income and discovered I had an ability to reach children whom others considered unreachable. I developed a secret code game for them based on my own mindfulness practice to help these children understand their minds. I now work for the Oakland-based non-profit Mindful Schools. I also teach my own private lessons and workshops. To date I’ve taught mindfulness to more than 700 children in the San Francisco Bay Area including those with Oppositional Defiant Disorder.

2. Can you please describe mindfulness for those of us who don’t know what it is?

Mindful Schools’ definition of mindfulness is “a particular way of paying attention. It is the mental faculty of purposefully bringing awareness to one’s experience. Mindfulness can be applied to sensory experience, thoughts, and emotions by using sustained attention and noticing our experience without reacting.” Mindful Schools also posts on their website the power of this practice: “Mindfulness creates space, changing impulsive reactions to thoughtful responses.”

I would add that mindfulness is not about becoming perfect. It’s not about being peaceful 100% of the time. Mindfulness is about knowing oneself as you are. The more we know about our own minds, the more we can help ourselves and others. Judgment of oneself and others can be incredibly destructive. When we learn to accept a moment of who we are with kindness and objectivity, then happiness, change and healing are possible.

3. How can a parent teach mindfulness? How is it different from teaching mindfulness to an adult?

A parent has to learn and practice mindfulness before teaching it. Intensive retreat is an ideal format for adults to learn mindfulness but barring that, lessons are the next best option. An effective mindfulness curriculum for children is simpler than for adults but just as powerful. When I first began teaching for Mindful Schools, I was surprised by how powerful the lessons were despite their simplicity. By teaching mindfulness to families as well as children, I’ve learned that every child and family is unique. My constant challenge is to teach specific mindfulness tools but also addresses individual needs and issues. It’s important to provide age-appropriate instruction and, especially for young children, keep it light and fun.

4. What, specifically, do you think kids can get out of learning how to live mindfully?

Mindful Schools, in collaboration with UC Davis’ Department of Psychology, just completed the largest study to date on mindfulness in education. The study of 829 elementary school students showed improvement in all four target development catagories: physical, mental, social and emotional. You can read additional research data at www.mindfulschools.org/about-mindfulness/research/.  I would add that from a happiness point-of-view, mindfulness teaches children how to observe their experience with kindness and objectivity instead of judgment and knee-jerk reactions. For children suffering from emotional extremes like rage and severe anxiety, mindfulness can be an extraordinary relief. It gives them a psychological road map they can understand and the means to navigate these difficult emotions.

5. Can you walk me through a mindful play exercise?

My secret code game can seem counter-intuitive because it does not judge children who misbehave and act out. Instead it allows children, through play, to first identify their mental states (eg: red = anger, yellow = fear, green = happy) and then understand cause and effect (what causes certain mental states) by experimenting with their own actions and words and noticing how it changes their color. During a mindful play exercise I always maintain a neutral, kind demeanor toward children no matter what their reactions. My job as a mindfulness instructor is to remain objective and non-judgmental. Ironically we cannot help a person change until we accept unconditionally who they are now. I’ll give you an example. Anger is a defense against pain. It’s there for a reason. When we judge a person who is angry, that person will hold on tighter to who they are because they feel attacked and need to defend themselves from more pain. Understanding lessens pain. When we accept unconditionally who a person is, tell that person we understand them and care about them even when they are “code red,” we create the loving space they need to face the difficult work of self-change. I gave an ED (emotionally disturbed) Special Day classroom the assignment to do a task the students didn’t want to do and watch how their codes changed during the beginning, middle and end of the task. One student said he cried the entire time when he did an undesirable school assignment because the discipline was so painful (he labeled this mental state “code red”). When he finished the work, he discovered he was code green! He was smiling and happy that he had completed the work. Had I or his teacher added judgment to that scenario, or a lecture about the importance of finishing his work, I believe the experience would’ve been too painful for him to try. Because the context of doing this task was a game, this student could push himself and face his difficulties. I believe that curiosity, laughter and fun are the best antidotes to resistance to self-change.

6. You work with children with Oppositional Defiance Disorder. What are some common themes that you see in kids diagnosed with ODD?

My theory as a mindfulness instructor is that children with ODD have trouble understanding cause and effect. They perceive themselves as the victims not the perpetrators at all times even if they initiate a conflict. As a result they feel a constant need to defend themselves. Life is exceptionally frustrating and painful for these children and they tend to be intense and have difficulty accessing their sense of humor and playfulness. Defiance cuts across all socioeconomic catagories. My work began with the children of wealthy families and continues today with children from a range of economic backgrounds. Caring for a child who is emotionally disturbed can be overwhelming for a parent so when I think of someone with ODD, I think of them as part of a family ecosystem where everyone needs help, especially if the parents and siblings have been dealing with this for a long time and are experiencing burn-out and negative emotions themselves. If the family is judging the child or reacting harshly, it’s my belief that the child will not progress. Not judging the family is important for the family’s healing process as well so I try to provide them the mindfulness tools they need to process negative reactions in a way that doesn’t communicate judgment to the child with ODD.

When children with ODD feel judged (even though it may be judgment that arises as a result of their cruel speech or actions), they increase their defenses and react with greater negativity. The instinct at that moment at home or in the classroom is to label the child as “bad” and try to drill into them the idea that they need to be “good.” I believe this backfires because it creates more pain in the child. If an adult has aversion to a child and wants to “fix” the child or get rid of a problem, typically this only exacerbates the situation and the problem gets worse. This doesn’t mean that acceptance is easy. That’s where I come in. As a secular meditation practitioner for 15 years, I am not overwhelmed by extreme emotions. I can come into that ecosystem with the objectivity, kindness and spirit of fun that I believe is necessary for change to occur. One analogy is to think of how you would feel if you had the following choice. You have a big problem. In one room are a group of people (big adults) who love you but hate your problem and want it to go away and who react to it negatively. You know they are unhappy to see you and your problem. In the next room is a group of smiling adults who are happy to see you even when your problem manifests and want to help you with a spirit of patience and fun. In which room would you be more able to face your problem and change? Which room would you choose? Unfortunately rejection of a person’s problem always feels like a rejection of the person. The challenge then becomes to set firm boundaries while not sending a message that you are rejecting the child.

7. What are the major differences in the way that you approach ODD kids compared to other therapeutic methods?

I cannot speak to other therapeutic models because I’m not trained in them but I believe that mindfulness is an excellent tool that is compatible with traditional family therapy. The Nelson Textbook of Pediatrics, 19^th Edition, states that ODD is characterized by “a persistent pattern of angry outbursts, arguing, vindictiveness and disobedience generally directed at authority figures such as parents and teachers. The patient with this conductor disorder typically shows little concern for the rights or needs of others.” The textbook goes on to say that parent management training for addressing ODD includes “developing a warm, supportive relationship with the child, child-directed interaction and play and providing clear and consistent rules with consistent consequences.” My mindfulness game helps create that healthy system of parent management of children with ODD. On this front, medical science and mindfulness are in agreement. You do not need to raise your voice or criticize a child to lay down the law. You can set boundaries with a smile and sweetness and this makes boundaries less threatening and less painful. I believe mindfulness goes a step further in that if the child takes to my secret code game for example, they are now applying the scientific method to potentially all of their interactions with the world and have a concrete way to measure the results of their choices and actions before, during and after an action takes place. This self-awareness empowers the child to see that being a good person doesn’t mean letting go of the need for self-preservation and self-defense. With mindfulness, children directly experience that being good makes them happy. In other words, being good can be its own defense.

8. How can parents use mindfulness to help children suffering from ODD?

There are three main mindfulness tools for parents dealing with ODD. The first is objective communication (rather than judgmental or accusatory communication). The second is creating consistent and firm boundaries with a neutral tone of voice. This is far more effective than authoritarian overly-harsh discipline or no discipline at all. Finally parents need to develop patience with negative emotions in themselves and their children and cultivate the mindfulness skill of observing instead of reacting. If a child’s extreme emotions cannot derail you emotionally as a parent, then the child will start to see that the emotions are not so powerful. This is a benefit for two reasons. Firstly if a child is manipulating adults with extreme emotions in order to be able to do whatever they want, the parental ability to stay present with those extreme emotions and demonstrate that the emotions don’t bother them sends a message to the child that their extreme emotions are not a form of power. If a child is indeed manipulating a situation with extreme emotions, when suddenly they react and don’t get what they want despite their emotional outbursts, eventually the child will understand that their emotions are not powerful and will let go of those extreme reactions in favor of healthy behavior that is rewarded. This takes time however and depending on how deeply entrenched the habits have become, a parent may have to stomach negative reactions for a long time in order to prevail. The second benefit is that if a parent treats these negative emotions as no big deal, everyone relaxes (including the siblings of children with ODD). If a child’s extreme emotions are sincere, they can frighten that child and siblings. If a parent demonstrates that the emotion is okay and that they can handle it, the children will be less afraid of their own difficult mental states and stabilize enough to begin navigating them effectively. This said, it can take years to teach mindfulness effectively. If you haven’t practiced mindfulness or been trained to teach it, then trying to apply these mindfulness tools will most likely not be effective. Like yoga, mindfulness is a skill that involves the physical body. Although we can read about it, applying mindfulness is not an intellectual, analytical exercise. As a mindfulness instructor, I have the ability to teach children about cause and effect while also modeling for them the emotions I want them to try out themselves. It helps if the parents are willing to acknowledge to the child their own negative emotions and communicate about them in an objective, fun way. “I feel a lot of anger in my body right now. Isn’t that interesting? What should I do?” This empowers the child to let go of defenses and inspires their curiosity so that they are more likely to investigate their own severe emotions as well.

9. What can parents do at home with their children — whether or not they have ODD-- to help foster mindfulness?

Take one deep breath and watch that breath from the very beginning (the “in” breath) until the moment it ends (the end of the “out” breath). After you concentrate on one entire breath, notice how your body feels. Then take another breath. Notice your body’s reaction. Have your children tell you what they notice. Don’t judge what they say. Just listen and say something like, “Wow, that’s so interesting. I wonder if I can see that in my own body as well.” If your child enjoys this exercise, begin a bedtime ritual where your child watches her breath as she falls asleep and you sit nearby on the floor or in a chair and watch your own breath, one breath at a time. Even five minutes a day of mindful breathing can be transformative.

Working with Rage in Children

Mindfulness provides a non-judgmental context for children to understand their rage and other overwhelming emotions. While most educational modes of addressing Oppositional Defiant Disorder revolve around children admitting they are “bad” and repeating “I will be good” statements without a psychological road map they can understand, mindfulness helps children grasp that being a good person doesn’t mean letting go of the need for self-preservation and self-defense. With mindfulness, children directly experience that being good can be its own defense.

One of the first things I say to children with Oppositional Defiance Disorder (ODD) is “I’m not here to take away your anger. It’s okay to be angry. Sometimes I need to be angry too.” This statement often results in stunned looks among the children and a visible relaxation of their bodies. To an outsider, this might seem counter-productive. How do you change a child’s behavior by accepting it? I would argue that acceptance is the key to changing a child’s behavior. The next time you are angry and someone says to you “let go of your anger” or “be happy!” notice your reaction. Someone judging your anger will probably make you even angrier. The same is true for children.

Anger is a defense against pain. It’s there for a reason. To change a child’s anger, you have to help the child understand why the anger is there – by helping them identify their pain – and then exploring various ways to resolve that pain without a lecture. An adult who judges a child’s anger as “bad” creates more pain in the child and therefore increases the need for defense, resulting in an angrier child at worst and at best, a confused child. A child who needs to defend themselves everyday may not even understand what being good feels like and may not feel it is safe to be good (something that may be perceived as weak). Children of any economic strata may need to defend themselves against neglect as well as physical, emotional and/or sexual abuse. Telling children they should “be good” simply because that is what is expected of them doesn’t resolve their need to defend themselves from pain. It’s especially important to remember that if a child faces detrimental adults outside of school, it’s likely that those children will be unable to trust any adult, even if that adult is the most benevolent teacher in the world. Children who have good parents may struggle with mental illness, which I will address here as well.

You can begin to earn a child’s trust by communicating that you understand their need to defend themselves. Understanding lessens pain. The less pain a child feels, the less they need their defense. The next step is also simple. Angry children are often communicating with their behavior that they need greater control. This need for control may be the result of a horrible real world situation or an overwhelming mental condition. Either way, their world is spinning out of control. One of the greatest gifts you can give a child is the opportunity to teach you (thus wield some control). After communicating my understanding and lack of judgment, I will ask children with ODD to teach me what they notice about their anger. I use my secret code game (written about in its most basic form in an earlier blog) to engage children in this dialogue. One boy recently said to me, “I would rather be code red (rage) than code yellow (which he defined as afraid).” When a child has this kind of insight into themselves, I don’t lecture them about the benefits of not being angry. They’re not ready for that and I want them to learn this truth through direct experience, not simply because I said it. Instead I praise students for noticing what’s really happening and reinforce that they are not bad people for preferring to be angry. The less a child is judged and the greater the opportunity a child has to teach an adult, the more they will open up and begin the process of cultivating self awareness and wisdom. Children – no matter how violent – are pure of heart. Their intentions are pure. They are simply trying to get what they need. Children with ODD often don’t understand the best way to get what they need.

A third way I establish a connection of trust with a child is to tell them how happy I am to see them. When a child gives me a stunned expression, I know that I may be the first adult in their life to tell them that they make someone happy, that their presence is valuable. I tell a child I am happy to see him for two reasons. Firstly I am creating within the child the foundation of self-confidence and self-worth necessary for the work of self-change. I am also teaching a core value of mindfulness – the notion of non-judgmental attention. When I say to a child who is code red, “I’m happy to see you even when you’re code red,” I am communicating a child’s value to that child. I am separating what the child feels (temporary) from the child’s worth. Too often we criticize children at the very moment when they need our kindness. What is most remarkable about communicating this is that the child will begin to conform to my expectation of him. He will drop out of code red more easily and put more effort into calming himself down in my presence. My unconditional acceptance of who he is makes it safe to change mental states. He doesn’t need to defend himself from me. I become a neutral background to his own process of self-change. Please note: I never tell a child that I am happy to see him if I am not. Children can sense emotions in adults and will know immediately if you are lying. This will backfire.

After I have children share what they notice about anger (code red), I have them pay attention to other mental states and actions. Again I praise their participation. I ask children who are angry to notice the temperature in their bodies, the way their muscles feel and any other sensations. If a child is able to sit still in code red (rather than act out their rage eg: by hitting someone) I praise that even if they can’t yet calm themselves down. I might say, “I see you’re able to sit still and watch the temperature in your body and that is such a beautiful thing to see.” I’ll tell them that if they want to continue watching the temperature in their bodies, that’s okay but if they can, to try to watch their breath and notice if it changes the temperature in their bodies. This triggers their natural curiosity. For children who have developed a life-long habit of rage, shifting mental states will be very difficult. Any adult who is mindful when angry can easily recognize how difficult it is to let go of this emotion. Curiosity is the best antidote to a child's resistance to self-change.

Those children who can watch their breath will notice that the temperature in their body cools but don’t tell them that. Let the children teach you. Don’t give away the answers or it will be another meaningless lecture rather than a direct experience of truth. For those children who watch the temperature only, their anger will become more painful. They may start to hit themselves or react against another person. To avoid that, tell the class, “for those of you who do not want to watch your breath, try to notice if code red gets more or less painful.” When children say “It gets more painful” I’ll praise them again. “Great! You noticed that. Now try to see what happens to code red when you watch your breath.” Through this exercise, children have the chance to see that anger is actually painful. Something they thought was defending them from pain is actually exacerbating it. Once children articulate that “ah-ha” moment, you will then have an optimal foundation to introduce experiments with kind behavior. Without giving away the answers, ask the children what they think kindness feels like compared to anger. Before the experiments, children will often say that anger is power and kindness is weakness. To which you can reply, “Wow, I’m so glad you shared that with me! Over the next week, try to be kind either to someone in class or someone at home and notice the different codes kindness makes you feel.” Children can use the basic green-yellow-red code I've written about in an early blog or create their own unique color code. Before they do the experiment, children may say “I feel code yellow” and I’ll remind them gently that they won’t know how kindness makes them feel until they’ve actually tried it and observed how they feel after they are kind to someone else.

Once children learn how to experiment with behavior and notice their codes, they will begin to apply this game to potentially every area of their life. One student asked me, “Is there a way to watch TV mindfully?” I said, “Yes – we can be mindful of anything. Notice what code you are before you turn on the TV and what code you think you will become by watching TV. Then turn on the TV and notice what code you are when you’re actually watching TV. Notice if your code changes when you turn off the TV.” The student anticipated the result of watching TV by saying, “I’m going to be code green (happy, calm)!” but the next week reported that he was surprised to observe that he felt “code yellow” when he watched TV (yellow being an unpleasant emotion of some kind that is not rage or extreme upset). I asked him why he felt code yellow and he answered that he felt bad that no one was helping his mom. He decided to turn off the TV and go help his mother which he was surprised to notice made him feel “code green.” This child who had received countless lectures about the benefits of being good had finally discovered those benefits for himself.

Ellen McCarty is a mindfulness instructor in the San Francisco Bay Area. Learn more at http://www.ellenmccarty.com/ or follow her status updates on Facebook at "Ellen McCarty, Mindful Youth." Copyright 2011 by Ellen McCarty