Taming Aversion: How to Work With the Mind When It Pushes Back

There’s a moment, familiar to anyone who has tried to live deliberately, when the mind simply says no. One minute, we’re aligned with our highest intentions, the next, we’re scrolling, tidying, grazing. That small, invisible shift — from presence to avoidance — is the terrain I’ve been exploring lately. Not because I’ve mastered it, but because I’ve been caught in it more times than I can count.

Aversion is easy to mistake for laziness, distraction, or even moral weakness. But what if it isn’t? What if the mind’s pushback isn’t defiance, but a form of care — a protective reflex triggered whenever growth begins to feel unsafe? The older I get, the more I suspect that the moments I’m most tempted to flee are the moments that matter most.

Every meaningful change seems to summon a guardian. The Buddhists call it mara; Freud might have called it resistance; psychosynthesis would describe it as a subpersonality defending its role in the inner system. Whatever name we choose, the pattern is the same: when the psyche senses transformation, it activates its most familiar defences.

Sometimes I’ll wake up with a vague heaviness, an urge to delay, to simplify the day, to shrink the horizon of possibility. The rational mind can explain it away (fatigue, overwork, weather), but underneath there’s often something more intimate: a small, frightened part that’s unsure what will happen if I really allow change to occur.

The task isn’t to override that part but to listen to it. Roberto Assagioli urges us to treat each subpersonality as purposeful, never pathological. In the same spirit, Internal Family Systems founder Richard Schwartz suggests asking these inner protectors what they’re afraid would happen if they didn’t intervene. Often the answer is touching: You might get hurt again.

There’s a strange irony in inner work: aversion tends to appear at precisely the moment when we’re closest to contact. The body stiffens not because we’re far from the truth, but because we’ve brushed against it.

This, I think, is why so many contemplative traditions treat aversion as a doorway rather than a wall. Pema Chödrön describes it as “the moment we touch our edge.” In those moments, the goal is not endurance but intimacy — learning to stay with what trembles.

When I sit in meditation and feel the urge to move, I’ve started to see it as a kind of emotional sonar. The resistance tells me something important is near. Rather than pushing through, I name it: aversion is here. I feel where it lives — perhaps in the throat, the chest, the solar plexus — and I breathe around it, widening the frame. Sometimes that’s enough. Sometimes it’s not. Either way, the willingness to stay changes the quality of the moment.

Unexamined aversion tends to generate drama. The mind, avoiding stillness, manufactures movement — endless narratives, self-critique, external blame. I sometimes think of this as the “noise of protection.” Beneath the content, the function is the same: distraction from direct contact with feeling.

In my own life, this often appears as overthinking. If I’m avoiding grief, I become analytical. If I’m avoiding fear, I become productive. The activity disguises itself as virtue — busyness, preparation, clarity — but underneath is the same motive: anything but this.

This dynamic is at the heart of the next workshop I’ll be leading — Stopping the Drama Cycle: A Workshop on Love & Our Limiting Patterns (3 November, 7.00–8.30pm UK time). We’ll be exploring how the mind uses drama — both internal and relational — to regulate discomfort. It’s not about pathologising the habit, but learning to see it clearly, tenderly, and to notice the quiet peace that emerges when we stop feeding it.

The paradox is that aversion softens not through conquest, but through companionship. The moment we stop trying to get rid of it, it begins to loosen its grip.

One practice that helps is gentle inquiry:

  • Ask, what am I unwilling to feel right now?
  • Ask, what am I protecting myself from?
  • And then, what would it feel like to allow just one degree more of openness?

This incremental approach — widening the window of tolerance rather than forcing it — honours the nervous system’s intelligence. As Bessel van der Kolk reminds us in The Body Keeps the Score, safety is the foundation of transformation.

Psychologically speaking, aversion is a sign that the psyche is reorganising itself. Spiritually speaking, it’s the ego’s last resistance before surrender. Either way, tenderness is the most effective solvent.

So much of contemporary self-help is built on the rhetoric of mastery: “hacking”, “rewiring” the brain. But perhaps what’s needed is not mastery but maturity: the willingness to work with the mind, not onit. Lately, I’ve been experimenting with what I call “soft discipline.” Instead of pushing through aversion, I create conditions for the opposite of fear: trust. I light a candle, clear my desk, breathe slowly, and remind myself that resistance is just another form of aliveness. It’s the psyche’s way of stretching before the leap.

In contemplative traditions from Buddhism to A Course in Miracles, resistance is reinterpreted as an invitation — an opportunity to practice forgiveness, not in the moral sense but in the cognitive one: the gentle release of judgement against ourselves for finding the work difficult.

This theme continues in Practical Miracles: Practicing the Course Beyond the Book (8 November, 2.00–5.00pm UK time) — a longer session on translating spiritual study into lived practice. We’ll explore how resistance can become revelation when approached through the lens of practice, not theory.

The longer I’ve worked with clients and students — and with my own mind — the more I see that aversion is not an obstacle to healing but one of its instruments. It appears wherever the psyche is trying to protect what it loves. To work with aversion, then, is to enter a relationship with love in its most disguised form.

The next time your mind pushes back, you might imagine thanking it. “Thank you for trying to protect me.” This simple act of recognition can dissolve years of struggle. Aversion doesn’t vanish, but it begins to trust you enough to soften. Growth, after all, isn’t the elimination of resistance but the deepening of relationship with it. What begins as pushback may, in time, become partnership — the psyche’s way of saying, I trust you to take me further than I could go alone.


Upcoming Workshops

Stopping the Drama Cycle: A Workshop on Love & Our Limiting Patterns
🗓 3 November, 7.00–8.30pm (UK time)
In this workshop we will explore how resistance and reactivity keep us circling the same emotional loops, and learn how to step out of them with compassion and clarity.

Practical Miracles: Practicing the Course Beyond the Book
🗓 8 November, 2.00–5.00pm (UK time)
This half-day workshop is deeper immersion into A Course in Miracles as a lived practice, where we will translate insight into relationship, creativity, and peace.


A New Approach to New Year’s Resolutions

The new year marks the start of a new chapter and, with it, the tradition of setting resolutions. For many of us, resolutions such as exercising more, getting rid of bad habits, journaling, or learning to meditate become important goals for the year ahead. But most New Year’s resolutions don’t seem to be as effective as we would like to believe. On average, we stick to our New Year’s resolutions for around four and a half months. For more than one in five of us, these resolutions last less than 30 days, and only 6% of us manage to stick to them for the whole year. 

To ensure we set ourselves the best possible plans 2024, instead of a taking a conventional approach to goal setting, let’s explore a transformative perspective on how to make lasting change in our lives.

The traditional method of crafting New Year’s resolutions usually involves pinpointing aspects of ourselves that we perceive as shortcomings and then finding ways to ‘fix’ them. Often these resolutions seem daunting, almost insurmountable, which perhaps explains why we often hear little about them after January, and more often than not we resolve to do things because we think that we should rather than considering how the resolutions can contribute to our bigger plans for personal growth. 

Instead, let’s consider a subtle paradigm shift: what if we saw them not as distant goals that can make us better in the future, but as invigorating challenges that are part of a longer journey of growth and change? By changing our mindset, we move from merely striving to achieve resolutions to striving for personal growth. Challenges act as a catalyst for adaptability, equipping us with the resilience needed to overcome unforeseen obstacles. They facilitate continuous personal growth by emphasising a journey of constant development rather than fixating on a predetermined end point. This subtle but crucial shift can cultivate a mindset of greater resilience and adaptability, fostering a more positive and constructive approach to self-improvement.

Embracing challenges over resolutions is a powerful catalyst for the development of grit, self-confidence, and discipline. Grit is resilience in the face of adversity, and we cultivate it when we view challenges not as hurdles to be overcome, but as opportunities for growth. The consistent effort required to face these challenges fosters a tenacity that is the foundation of grit. By navigating the varied terrain of our chosen challenges, we learn to trust our ability to adapt and persevere in the face of uncertainty.

In overcoming any challenge, be it small or large, we gather evidence of our abilities and strengths. If we regularly don’t meet the targets that we set for ourselves we quickly come to believe that we don’t have the ability to achieve. However if we make continual progress toward conquering a challenge we build the self-confidence muscles needed to keep us going. This tangible evidence forms the basis for true confidence. Challenges can push us beyond our comfort zone and enable us to tackle future challenges with greater certainty.

Discipline is honed by the constant commitment required to overcome challenges. It is about dedicating ourselves daily to our chosen challenges to create a sense of structure and routine and the discipline we develop in this process can be transferred to different aspects of our lives. It enables us to persevere through the inevitable ups and downs and leads us to sustained success in our personal and professional endeavours.

Fear of failure often leads us to unconsciously undermine our own longer term plans. We may give up sooner than necessary and succumb to the belief, whether consciously or unconsciously, that success is unattainable. This defeatist attitude calls into question the intrinsic value of trying. For example, if we have set ourselves the challenge to wake up at 5am in 2024 and realise that we’ve hit snooze and it’s now 5.02, we might tell ourselves that we have already missed the target and consider it a failure. In such cases, it’s important to change our perspective: a resolution is something that is achieved or not; a challenge is something that we are continually working on within our selves. 

Another major hurdle that often arises is the lack of motivation. It’s easy to get carried away by the enthusiasm with which you make ambitious New Year’s resolutions, such as meditating for two hours a day or running a 5k during our lunch break. As we tackle our 2024 challenges, it’s imperative that we look at the why behind each commitment. By asking ourselves questions like, ‘how will I change after completing this challenge?’ and, more importantly, ‘why is this change meaningful to me?’ we can anchor our motivation in personal relevance.

Unrealistic expectations are a common challenge, often due to underestimating what we can achieve in a year while overestimating our daily capacity. Rather than setting an unrealistic goal, such as running a 5k every day during our lunch break if we are new to running, we should change our approach. Instead, we can aim to run 5k by the end of 2024 and break this goal down into manageable daily or weekly habits and systems. This way, what seemed unattainable on 2 January 2024 becomes an extremely realistic expectation for 31 January 2024.

Perfectionism is another significant obstacle to achieving our goals, a challenge that many of us will face in 2024. Many people who set goals struggle with perfectionism, as these two factors are often intertwined and create a sense of winning or losing. In contrast, challenges provide a path for continuous growth and development. Much like Frodo’s journey to Mordor, there are inevitably ups and downs, victories and setbacks along the way. Our path to overcoming challenges is anything but a flat, linear path; it has its own ups and downs. It doesn’t have to be flawless— it’s enough to keep the challenge in sight.

As we stand on the threshold of a new year, let’s revolutionise our approach to the usual resolutions. Instead of fixating on rigid goals, we should set ourselves challenges. This shift in perspective encourages a mindset characterised by continuous growth, resilience, and adaptability.


In The Path of Mindful Living: A 21-Day Mindfulness Companion, I lead you through a series of self-guided mindfulness exercises and show you how to bring mindfulness into your daily life. Readers of my blog can download the workbook and pullout charts for only £6.