The Container of Presence: Practicing Sit. Feel. Heal.
In a world that constantly pulls our attention outward, mindfulness invites us to turn inward. At its simplest, my practice is this:
Sit. Feel. Heal.
That’s it. And it’s enough.
It starts with sitting…not just physically, but sitting with what’s here. Not rushing to fix or escape, but learning to stay. To just be.
I often refer to our meditation practice as creating a “container of presence,” a space where we allow life to unfold without needing to control it. Jeff Foster said, “It’s not the content of your experience, it’s the container that matters.” That landed for me. Because life’s gonna life….there’s always something. But presence gives us space to meet it with steadiness.
Letting Be vs. Letting Go
So often we hear “let it go.” But sometimes that stuff sticks. You’ve “let it go” Ten Thousand times and it still shows up. That’s when we shift into letting be….allowing whatever’s here to just exist without pushing it away.
This is the foundation of mindfulness. Present-time awareness. What is happening right now?
We can ask, “What else am I experiencing?” That shift. Into sound, breath, body, sensation…gives us a moment of freedom. And those moments add up.
The First Foundation: Grounding in the Senses
When the mind is loud or looping, we come back to the basics:
Feet. Seat. Sounds. Breath.
This is the first foundation of mindfulness: awareness of the body and breath.
I’ve learned I don’t need to force my mind to be still. I just need to give it a place to rest. That could be the breath, or the sound of the wind, or the feel of my feet on the ground. These are real-time anchors. They regulate the nervous system and remind us that we’re here.
Feeling the Flavors of Experience
Once we’ve created some space, we begin to explore what we’re feeling. Emotionally, physically, energetically.
Ajahn Amaro, a Theravāda monk whose teachings I resonate with, speaks about the connection between the four elements and four foundations of mindfulness. Earth as the body, water as fluidity of feeling, fire as perception and thought, and wind as the impermanence of all things.
This view helped me soften my grip on emotions. Instead of trying to solve or suppress them, I could notice:
“There’s tightness.”
“This feels heavy.”
“This is sadness.”
That’s it. No need to get into the ingredients (The "why" I feel a certain way), just read the label.
Labeling Without the Story
When we label experience…pleasant, unpleasant, neutral….we’re not judging. We’re simply noting how the mind reacts. This is where choice begins. We shift from being caught in a story to observing experience.
A key practice for me has been naming without analyzing. We don’t need to figure it all out. Just be with what’s here, moment by moment. That’s the invitation.
A Space for Joy, Too
This isn’t just about sorrow and suffering. When we create space, we start to notice joy too. The scale starts to balance.
As Khalil Gibran wrote, “Joy is your sorrow unmasked.”
Loving-Kindness and Letting It In
Sometimes, when the weight is too much, I turn to phrases of loving-kindness:
May I be at ease. May I be at peace. May I be happy.
It’s not a demand. It’s a gentle request.
A reminder to soften.
To keep showing up.
To offer ourselves the same care we’d give someone we love.
From the Seat to the Street
Mindfulness isn’t about perfect stillness. It’s about learning to hold more space—for joy and pain, clarity and confusion.
Sit. Feel. Heal.
Not in that order. Not on a schedule. Just as it comes.
This practice is for your life. It starts on the cushion, but it meets you in traffic, in grief, in love, in laughter. Over time, it becomes how we move through the world. With curiosity, with care, and with a little more space.
Thanks for reading, and thanks for practicing.
Joe
