The Space Between Feeling and Reaction
- kathrinpreissner
- Feb 11
- 9 min read
Just over a week ago, I landed in Kathmandu. As I write this text, I am sitting in a small café that belongs to a monastery of the Buddhist Mahayana tradition. Outside, the busy hustle and bustle of the city passes by – motor scooters, honking cars, vendors, Tibetan monks, pilgrims, and travelers from all over the world. At the same time, there is a noticeable sense of calm over this place. Perhaps it is the proximity to the monastery, perhaps the many people who consciously come here in search of inner peace. Maybe it is both.
Last weekend, I attended a course titled Overcoming Anger and Attachment and how, from a Buddhist perspective, we can free ourselves from them. The title alone made me curious. Anger and attachment are two topics that likely affect all of us, regardless of whether we engage with spirituality or psychology.
Interestingly, I met familiar faces from Dharamshala there. These encounters reminded me once again how small the world can sometimes be and how my world has gradually become a village. And perhaps the world also becomes a village when we feel the interconnectedness that we often cannot fully comprehend rationally.
Skepticism Before the Course – and a Surprising Experience
To be honest, I was initially a little skeptical about whether I should really attend the course. Over the past few years, I have already taken several basic Buddhist courses. In addition, I engage deeply with emotions from a psychological perspective and have always believed that anger is not something we should completely eliminate. Rather, I often see anger as an important messenger – it shows us that boundaries have been crossed, needs are not being met, or values have been violated.
All the more surprised I was at how enthusiastic I felt leaving the course on Sunday. The course leader, Glen Svensson, managed to convey an incredible amount of essential content in just two days. I felt that I understood the Buddhist approach to emotions much more deeply than before. Perhaps that was because I already brought a certain level of basic knowledge. Or perhaps because certain insights only truly reveal themselves at a specific moment in life.
In this blog post, I would like to share the most important insights from this course with you.
Feelings from a Buddhist Perspective: Pleasant, Unpleasant, or Neutral
In Buddhism, feelings are generally divided into three categories: pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. This seemingly simple classification can have an enormous impact when we begin to consciously observe our experiences from this perspective.
About three years ago, I attended a ten-day Vipassana retreat in India. This exact perception of sensations was at the center there. The first three days were spent exclusively observing our breath – very precisely and in great detail. We were supposed to notice how the air flows in through the nose, how it flows out again over the upper lip, and what subtle sensations arise in the process.
You can probably imagine how challenging that can be. Our mind – often described as the “monkey mind” – constantly jumps from one thought to the next. As soon as we try to focus on the breath, our thoughts have already wandered elsewhere.
In his course, Glen spoke about how it is more difficult for us today than ever before to sustain our attention. Studies show that people used to be able to focus on one thing for an average of about two minutes. Today, it is often only around 40 seconds. When I heard this, I automatically asked myself: What about me? When was the last time I truly and consciously focused on one thing without interruption?
After the first three days of the retreat back in India, the actual Vipassana practice began. During this, one systematically scans the body from top to bottom and observes all sensations – tingling, warmth, cold, pressure, or pain.
A central component was the so-called Strong Determination. This meant remaining in the meditation posture for one hour (several times per day) without changing position – unless extreme pain made it necessary.
I still remember well how I often thought after just 15 minutes: “I can’t take this anymore.” My body hurt, my legs became numb, my back tightened. The impulse to move was enormous. At first, I usually gave in to this impulse.
But at some point, I decided to face the challenge. Initially, my entire attention was directed toward the pain. It seemed to grow stronger and stronger. Yet something surprising happened when I tried to let go of resistance. Step by step, my body relaxed. The unpleasant sensations did not disappear immediately – but they became weaker, changed, moved.
Observing Emotions Instead of Reacting Immediately
Later, I realized that this principle can also be applied to emotional situations. When I was flooded by anger, I often had a strong impulse to react immediately. I wanted to express the anger, give it space, defend myself, or confront someone.
But sometimes, the person concerned was not even present. In those moments, I had no choice but to wait. When I then consciously went for a walk, observed my breath or breathed deliberately, and tried not to actively hold on to the anger, I often noticed that it subsided.
Of course, this did not always work. But the mere experience that emotions can change when we give them space was incredibly valuable.
In Glen’s course, this principle was described as the so-called “researcher perspective.” Feelings may be observed with curiosity and openness – without having to follow them immediately.
Holocaust survivor and psychologist Viktor Frankl also describes this conscious pause particularly well:
“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lie our growth and our freedom.”
This quote has accompanied me for a long time. And yet, I keep reminding myself that intellectual understanding is only the first step. Sustainable change in our inner “software programming” only happens when we begin to truly feel experiences – when knowledge is not only thought, but carried from the mind into the heart.
And that is often the most difficult part.
From Understanding to Experience
Easier said than done. But what can help?
A regular practice can be supportive. Especially in the beginning, concentration meditation can be helpful. In this practice, attention is directed toward one object – for example, the breath, an image, or an object such as a flower.
Even more important, however, is mindfulness.
What Does Mindfulness Really Mean?
Mindfulness means being present in the here and now. It is about consciously perceiving experiences, observations, feelings, and thoughts without immediately judging or wanting to change them.
A simple exercise is mindful eating. This means eating without distraction, without conversations or a phone. Instead, you focus entirely on the smell, taste, and texture of the food. Everyday activities such as showering can also become mindfulness exercises. How does the water feel on your skin? How does the shower gel smell? What sensations arise in your body?
Another option is a daily emotional check-in. For example, in the morning after waking up or in the evening before going to sleep. A simple question can help: How do I feel right now?
Mindfulness does not mean forcing yourself perfectionistically to be present all the time. Rather, it is about playfully becoming more conscious step by step.
Maybe today you feel like taking a five-minute walk alone and consciously perceiving your surroundings.
Anger and Attachment in Buddhism – A Different Perspective
I found it fascinating that the concept of “anger” in Buddhism does not exactly correspond to the Western understanding of anger. It is more strongly connected to the intention to consciously harm others and to respond aggressively.
From my perspective, however, anger is not negative per se. It can be an important signal. It often shows us that boundaries have been crossed or our values have been violated.
The question is therefore less whether anger is allowed to exist – but rather how we deal with it.
Attachment is also not understood as the classic bond with other people with whom we are in a relationship – whether romantic or otherwise. It is more about how we live this bond. Whether we love unconditionally – without expecting anything in return – or whether our love and care are tied to expectations and ideas.
Cognitive Fusion: When We Confuse Action and Person
A central concept from the course that I took with me was the so-called cognitive fusion. It describes the tendency to mix behavior and identity.
When a person does something hurtful, we tend to label them as a “bad person.” This automatically creates blame. At the same time, a power imbalance often arises in which we feel morally superior.
Historically, guilt has repeatedly been used to reinforce power structures.
The Buddhist approach clearly distinguishes here: The behavior may be rejected – the person may still be accepted. After all, every human being strives to be happy and to avoid suffering, even if their actions sometimes contradict this goal.
Mindfulness can help us consciously perceive this differentiation.
Dealing with Guilt and low Self-Worth
Cognitive fusion does not only affect our view of other people, but also our view of ourselves. When we make mistakes or hurt someone, we often tend to completely devalue ourselves. In the long term, this can severely affect our self-worth.
During a meditation course in India, I learned a special exercise for this. It involved regretting one’s own misconduct without rejecting oneself. At the same time, one sets the goal of changing this behavior in the future.
One can consciously set time frames for this. For example, someone might decide to consciously refrain from white lies for a certain period of time or to react less impulsively in conflicts.
A central component of this is compassion – both for others and for oneself. However, compassion does not mean tolerating everything. It can also mean setting clear boundaries. A “no” can be very compassionate when it is communicated respectfully.
Self-Care and Healthy Self-Worth
Another important aspect is self-care. It is not about placing yourself on a pedestal, but about taking your own needs seriously before you burn out.
Especially people who are strongly there for others tend to neglect themselves. In the long term, however, this cannot help either themselves or others.
Emotions and Creativity
Another exciting point from the course was the connection between emotions and creativity. Intense fear, constant worries, or chronic stress can block creative processes.
Creativity often arises in moments of calm. When our nervous system is relaxed or when a certain level of boredom even emerges, new spaces for thinking and perception open up.
Not Always Leaving Situations Immediately
Many of us have the impulse to leave unpleasant situations immediately – whether it is a difficult job, a conflict-heavy boss, or a challenging relationship.
Sometimes withdrawal is actually necessary, especially when we lack the inner resources to deal with the situation. In the long term, however, personal growth often lies in mindfully facing exactly these situations.
Mindfulness can help us consciously perceive the space between stimulus and response and discover new possibilities for action.
Intellectual Understanding Is Not Enough
One of the most important messages of the course for me was:
Intellectual understanding forms the foundation – but real transformation only arises through experience and lived reality. Only when we not only understand it intellectually but truly feel it with our whole heart can it be authentically lived.
Meditation, mindfulness, and conscious self-reflection are tools that can support us in learning this understanding.
Focusing on Intention Instead of Avoidance
Another valuable impulse was not to focus exclusively on what we want to avoid. Instead of saying, “I don’t want to react aggressively anymore,” it can be more helpful to formulate:
“I want to communicate my boundaries respectfully and with compassion.”
This positive orientation creates clarity and motivation. At the same time, it invites us to see behavior as a field of practice – not as a task of perfection.
In the end, there is often a simple but powerful question:
With what intention am I acting right now?
If we are willing to answer this question honestly, it can become an important compass in our lives.
Perhaps this is exactly the essence of what I took with me from this weekend:
Emotions are not enemies that we have to fight or overcome. Rather, they are experiences that want to tell us something about ourselves. When we begin to meet them with mindfulness, curiosity, and compassion, an inner space emerges in which real growth becomes possible.
Beyond that, I believe that irritations and triggers that we encounter in contact with other people are often mirrors of our own shadow themes. They are those parts within us that we may not want to show, that we are ashamed of, or that we would rather suppress out of fear or the need to adapt. Sometimes we try to sweep these aspects under the rug – but especially in encounters with other people, they often reappear.
Perhaps we may also view exactly these people as teachers. As people who – consciously or unconsciously – give us the opportunity to apply what we have learned in real life. Whether it is patience, compassion, self-care, or the ability to set healthy boundaries.
Here are a few reflection questions for you:
Which emotions keep appearing in your life – and what message might they hold for you?
Are there people or situations that trigger you particularly strongly? What might they reflect back to you about yourself?
Which parts of yourself do you find difficult to accept or show?
How would you react if you viewed difficult encounters as a learning field rather than a threat?
Where could you currently invite more compassion – toward yourself or toward others – into your life?

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