Making Room for Truth: Returning when the mind pulls you away.
- Dr. Kidi
- 1 day ago
- 5 min read
Updated: 17 hours ago
The return does not begin with stillness. It begins with noticing that you have left. — Dr. Kidi
There is a particular kind of noise that has no sound.
It was a parents' meeting at my child's school. In the Quaker tradition, gatherings often begin in silence. That evening, fifty or so parents settled into their seats carrying questions, opinions, and the urgency of lives already full.
The moderator invited us into silence.
The room obeyed.
I was comfortable enough for the first few minutes. But as the silence stretched, something in me began to resist.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
A tightening in my body. A restlessness in my hands. A reaching toward something I could not name.
I stopped my hand before it reached my phone, but I could not stop what came next: thoughts, arriving like small thieves.
I need to go to the store after this.
I should have called the bank.
When did my friend say she would call back?
I need to change a line in my story.
Nothing urgent. Nothing important.
Yet each thought pulled a piece of my attention away.
Away from the room.
Away from my body.
By the time the moderator spoke again, I was physically present but internally scattered. My mind had taken what was whole and broken it into fragments, each moving in a different direction.
Now, I open What Healing Knows workshops with a moment of silence.
At every session, I recognize the same discomfort in participants that I had felt in the Quaker hall. Eyes shifting. Bodies fidgeting. Hands reaching for phones, notebooks, anything that might fill the space before the silence asked something of them.
What fascinates me is that the discomfort does not come from the silence itself. It comes from what the silence reveals. From what the body tries to communicate. Slow down. Stay here. Pay attention.
But the body speaks quietly, and the unfinished task speaks loudly.
So we fill the silence with lists, plans, and distractions.
Not because they matter more.
Because the noise feels easier than knowing the truth.
This episode is about making enough room to hear the body's truth.
What Scatters Us
Most of us have been taught that a wandering mind is a failing mind.
We have been told to focus. To concentrate. To stay on task. And so, in silence, the mind begins pulling us toward the grocery list, the unanswered message, the conversation we should have had differently.
We may experience the pull as a personal inadequacy. Proof that we are not disciplined enough. Not present enough. Not still enough.
But the mind that scatters in silence is not broken.
It is doing exactly what it learned to do.
Neuroscientists call it the Default Mode Network, a system in the brain that becomes active when we are not focused on a specific task. It replays the past, rehearses the future, and scans for unfinished business and unresolved problems.
In evolutionary terms, this was useful.
Our ancestors survived because their brains remained alert to potential threats and opportunities. A mind that constantly scanned the horizon was more likely to stay alive.
Today, however, most of us are not watching for predators. Yet the brain continues to scan for what might go wrong, what needs attention, and what has been left unfinished. A brain designed to protect us can also keep us from hearing ourselves.
How?
It often overestimates danger, sending the mind searching for what needs to be solved, remembered, avoided, or prepared for next.
But while the mind travels, the body remains. And we scatter in the distance between where the mind goes and where the body remains. And when we scatter, we lose access to what the body knows.
Our thoughts become louder.
Silence becomes unbearable.
Not because nothing was there.
But because something was.
The silence was full of everything I had not had time to feel. And the mind, faithful to its training, reached for anything that would keep me from feeling it.
The grocery list was not really about groceries. The bank call was not really about the bank. They were convenient places for my attention to go.
We call this distraction.
But it is more like an armor that keeps out what might hurt as well as what might heal.
It keeps the noise high enough that the body's truth cannot be heard.
That is what the scattering costs us over time.
Not just presence.
Not just peace.
It costs us access to the body's truth.
A wisdom that can only be heard when we return to the present moment.
The Tinfash 5 C Practice: Making Room for Truth
The return does not begin with stillness.
It begins with noticing, without judgment, that you have followed a thought away from the present. And then, returning to your breath, again and again.
Notice it.
Notice that you have scattered.
You do not need to change it.
You only need to notice it.
Count to three.
One.
Two.
Three.
Not because counting is magic, but because the mind that has been scattering in fifty directions needs something small and gentle to hold while the noise begins to settle.
As you breathe, the thoughts will come.
The store.
The bank.
The friend.
Let them come.
Let them pass.
Each time you notice a thought has carried you away, you have already returned.
The noticing is the return.
No correction needed.
No frustration with yourself for having drifted.
You were there, and now you are here.
Here is the breath.
Here is the chest.
Here is the floor beneath your feet.
Here is the body.
.
This is how the fragments begin to gather.
Not all at once.
But over days and weeks of returning.
As the noise quiets, you begin to hear what the body's truth.
Not all at once.
But in small recognitions.
If you would like a guided companion for this practice, the full Tinfash 5C: Making Room for Truth audio meditation is available on YouTube at @drkidi.
Closing Reflection
I often think about that Quaker Meeting Room.
Parents sitting together in silence.
The thoughts arriving.
My attention scattering.
And with it, my ability to hear what the silence might have offered.
Now I understand that the silence was not asking me to empty my mind. It was asking me to notice how easily I could leave myself without ever leaving my seat. It was asking me to pause, return, and listen to my body.
Perhaps that is what truth often asks of us.
Not that we search harder.
Not that we think more.
But that we return often enough, and stay long enough, to hear what has been waiting beneath the noise.
The journey continues in Episode 5: Truth Without Armor: Speaking What is true without attacking, defending, or abandoning yourself.
A Mantra to Carry
I do not need to perform the truth. I only need to stop pretending it is not there.
Each breath gathers me.
Each pause returns me.
Each moment reveals the truth within me.
Journal Invitation
Write by hand
Take a few quiet moments and notice where your attention tends to go when you become still.
What thoughts, tasks, worries, or distractions repeatedly pull you away from the present moment?
As you reflect, ask yourself:
What might those distractions be helping me avoid feeling, noticing, or acknowledging?
Write without judgment.
Simply observe what arises and what your body may have been trying to tell you beneath the noise.
Meditation
With that, we begin our healing connection.
Embrace the journey. Keep listening. Healing knows the way.
Love and more love,
Dr. Kidi
More reflections at drkidi.com · Follow @drkidi.healing · Guided meditations on YouTube @drkidi Short stories on Substack @drkidi
Thank you for your truth.