Freedom from Suffering: Your Presence is the Portal to Peace

In this article, I share a simple three-step process to guide your attention from the grip of suffering to the peace of your true nature.

I remember walking down the street one sunny afternoon in California. The world outside was brilliant and bright: palm trees lining sun-drenched streets, top-down convertibles filled with gorgeous young men and women with their surfboards and yoga mats. I was studying human development and learning at Stanford, and my life looked like a postcard.

Inside, my mind was a nightmare. On the good days, there was only a subtle sense of lack: this quiet feeling that something was missing, and I needed to find it. On the bad days, there was emotional pain that felt, at times, unbearable.

I tried everything for relief. I tried numbing myself with alcohol and drugs. I tried working harder; I tried working less. I tried finding a relationship; I tried leaving it. I tried psychedelics, energy healing, every remedy California had to offer. Some of it provided temporary relief. But none of it touched the root. The suffering would ease, then return—wearing a different mask, but carrying the same familiar weight.

I began to worry that I would have to live with this pain for the rest of my life. But I didn’t feel like I could. One day, it hit me:

“I have exhausted every option. Nothing in this world can bring me peace.”

Through sheer desperation, I suddenly became intensely focused on spiritual understanding. I had been a casual seeker for decades: devouring books by Eckhart Tolle, attending meditation retreats, joining a Sufi community. Along the way, I had met people like Pema Chödrön and Adyashanti. I could sense an unshakable peace within them—something entirely independent of circumstances. It seemed almost otherworldly. I knew it was real. I needed to find it. Suddenly my spirituality was no longer a hobby; it was my lifeline. It became an obsession.

I left academia and went on my final search: this time, into the world of non-duality. Non-duality is the understanding that there is only one reality: pure presence, whose nature is peace. This brought me into conversations with Rupert Spira and Francis Lucille, who helped me stop searching and see what experience truly reveals. In what follows, I’ll share what I learned in the hope that it might offer you what it offered me: a pathway to peace.¹

Step 1. Simplify the Suffering

That afternoon in California, as I walked through that postcard world with a nightmare in my mind, something happened that would become the first crack of light. I was mid-thought—“I’ll never find my way out of this”—when I glanced at a bumper sticker on a parked car. It read:

Don’t believe everything you think.

It stopped me in my tracks. The grip of my attention loosened, and the thought disappeared—just like that. Like a wisp of mist in the sun.

What remained was simpler than I expected. There was some tension in my jaw and a tightness in my chest. That was it. In that moment, I realized:

All there is to the experience of suffering is thought and bodily sensation.

Think of it this way. From just two ingredients—apples and sugar—you can make an astonishing variety of things: juice, cider, jam, syrup. Each one looks and tastes completely different, yet each is only a fresh blend of the same two ingredients.

Likewise, the seemingly endless varieties of suffering are simply different blends of thought and bodily sensation. Shame is the thought “I am bad” and the sensations that attend it. Fear of failure is the thought “I might fail” and the sensations that attend it. The sense of lack is the thought “I am missing something” and the sensations that attend it. Different blends of the same two ingredients.

In this first step, we ask ourselves:

“What is the core thought and the bodily sensations that accompany it?”

Then, we simply name the thought and sensations. I know that might sound too simple, or even dismissive of how difficult suffering can feel. But please stay with me. We’re not naming the thought and sensations so we can reject them. We’re bringing them into the light of awareness, which is the light of love.

Suffering can feel like standing under a giant waterfall, getting hopelessly drenched. We might think, “This is so complex; I’ll never figure it out,” or “What if this never ends?” Naming the thought and sensations is like taking a step back into a warm, dry cave. Now you’re looking at the waterfall. You’re no longer standing in it. The waterfall might keep flowing, but you’re not drowning in it anymore. Sometimes, that alone is enough to offer some relief.

Consider something your mind has been struggling with, and see if you can distill it into a single core thought. Suffering often arrives as a flood of thoughts, all rushing in at once. But if you simply observe them, you’ll notice that most of them are saying the same thing. What is the one core thought underneath? There might be several ways to express it. Find the one that fits your experience and name it plainly, without any judgment or analysis.

Now turn your attention to the body. What do you actually feel, beneath the thought?

At first, the mind might offer a label such as guilt, fear or shame. Notice that these are names for the experience, not the experience itself. Remove the label “guilt” and see what’s actually there. Ask yourself, “When I experience ‘guilt,’ what are the actual sensations? Where do they appear, and how do they feel?”

Bodily sensations are simply our felt sense of the body from within. Sometimes they are neutral, such as the tingling sensation in your hands or the weight of your legs on a chair. Other times, they can seem unpleasant, such as tension in the jaw, tightness in the chest or a heaviness in the stomach. They might be intense, like a booming orchestra, or subtle, like the sound of a distant flute.

Hold whatever you’ve found with the same kindness you’d offer a friend in pain. As you do, we will explore your essence—your secret, inner portal to peace.

Step 2. Recognize Your Essence

When fear grips our chest, or the fire of anger burns in our jaw, it can be easy to assume these emotions are “me” or “mine.” Studying human development taught me something surprising: our seemingly personal thoughts and feelings are not, in fact, personal.

Fear, shame, anger—these primordial emotions are not unique to us. We share them with other species. They’re ancient emotions, designed to keep our bodies safe from harm. These primitive energies originated well before any of us were conceived. There is nothing personal about them.

But we human beings do something unique. We interpret those ancient emotions to mean something about ourselves. Contrast this with a zebra. When a zebra sees a lion, its “fight or flight” response goes off. Its heart starts pounding, its breath quickens, and its muscles tense to prepare to flee. But the zebra doesn’t name the experience “fear,” nor does it go on to think, “I am a failure; I really should have known better.”

We experience the same “fight or flight” response, and then we do something the zebra cannot: we interpret the experience to mean something about us. Our mind weaves a story around the sensation and knits it into our sense of self.

“I am a failure.”

“I am not enough.”

“I am missing something.”

We can also imagine situations that aren’t currently happening and react as if they are.² We can play and re-play scenes of metaphorical lions throughout the day.

“What if he gets upset?”

“What if she never apologizes?”

“What if I make a mistake?”

Our heart starts pounding, our breath quickens, and our muscles tense to prepare to flee. But there is no lion!

Then one day, sitting with all of this, a question rose to the surface of my mind:

This fear, this shame, this anger—what if none of it is even mine? What if it doesn’t belong to me? And all these racing thoughts—what if they’re not even about me, even if they use the word ‘I?’

I sat with that for a long time.

The most troubling thoughts were the ones that were supposedly about me, this “I” that was “missing something.” But what if that was just a story wrapped around sensation?

I had never stopped to consider: “If I am not these thoughts and feelings, then what am I? What is my essence? Can my essence ever be ‘missing something’ or ‘not enough?’” This question—What am I?—became the seed of an inquiry that blossomed into peace.

To explore this in your own experience, ask yourself:

“Am I the thought or the awareness that knows it?”

You would never mistake yourself for a tree. When you see a tree, you don’t think, “I’m tall and brown, with long branches and many leaves.” Why don’t you mistake yourself for a tree? You simply know: you’re the subject that knows the tree, and the tree is the object of your experience.

A thought is like a tree. It’s not a physical object; it’s a subtle one. But the same basic principle applies. Like the tree, the thought appears to you, and you are aware of it. The thought is not always present in your experience, but you are. You are present and aware before the thought arises, during its short lifespan, and after it fades away.

When thoughts are present, they are constantly changing. And they completely disappear in the state of deep sleep.

If you don’t mistake yourself for a tree, why mistake yourself for a thought? You are the subject that knows—awareness itself—not the thought that is known.

As we explore this, we recognize: “I am not the thought of suffering; I am the awareness that knows it.”

I’m not referring to a special, mystical awareness that belongs only to the sages. I’m referring to your ordinary, everyday awareness—the one that knows your experience right now. Awareness simply refers to “that which knows.” It is what we ultimately refer to when we say “I.”³

We can ask the same question about our bodily sensations:

“Am I the bodily sensations or the awareness that senses them?”

Everything we discovered about thought is equally true of sensation. The sensation appears, lasts for a time, and fades away. It is not always present in your experience, but you are. You are present and aware before the sensation arises, during its lifespan, and after it fades away.

When the sensation is present, it is constantly changing. And it completely disappears in the state of deep sleep.

You are not limited to the sensation. You are the open, empty space of awareness in which it appears, transforms and disappears.

Eventually, we arrive at this: “I am neither the thought nor the sensation of suffering. I am the awareness that knows them. I am awareness itself.”

Now we come to the most essential part: exploring whether your essence—pure presence—is suffering or at peace.

Step 3. Taste Your Freedom

In this third and final step, we ask ourselves:

“Is my essence troubled or disturbed? Is awareness itself suffering?”

To answer this question, we must explore awareness itself. But the experience of awareness is unlike any other experience. Awareness is the subject of experience, not an object. As such, it has no form—no shape, no size, no color.

The great Indian sage Ramana Maharshi likened awareness to a cinema screen. The screen is the clear, transparent background on which the images appear and disappear. Likewise, awareness is the clear, transparent background on which our experiences appear and disappear. All thoughts, bodily sensations and sense perceptions appear and disappear—like movie scenes—on the clear screen of awareness. As Ramana Maharshi said,

There are scenes floating on the screen in a cinema show. Fire appears to burn buildings to ashes. Water seems to wreck vessels. But the screen on which the pictures are projected remains unscorched and dry.⁴

Nothing that appears in the movie can harm the screen on which it appears. Likewise, nothing that appears in your experience—no thought, sensation or sense perception—can harm the clear, luminous presence in which it appears. In Rupert Spira’s words,

Just as a screen is never disturbed by the drama in a movie, so pure knowing, being aware or awareness itself is never disturbed by experience, and thus it is inherently imperturbable or peaceful.⁵

Peace is not found in the movie; it’s the transparency of the screen. Likewise, we cannot find peace in our ever-changing thoughts, feelings and life circumstances. We can only taste it in the transparency of our self, pure presence.

Take a moment to notice the screen on which these very words appear. Perhaps a thought of suffering arises:

“I am missing something.”

The words call for your attention. If you focus on them, you might overlook the screen. But when you soften your gaze, you notice the clear, transparent screen on which they appear.

Likewise, the thought of suffering calls for your attention. If you focus on the thought, you might temporarily overlook the peace of your true nature. Just as attention can be absorbed in the drama of a movie, it can be absorbed in the drama of a thought. When this happens, it might feel as if you are the suffering.

When you soften your attention, you notice the clear, transparent presence that knows the thought. You recognize, “I am not lost in the suffering; I am the clear, transparent awareness that knows it.”

Could the words on this screen ever harm this screen?

Absolutely not.

I could fill this page with the darkest words my mind can muster, and they could never touch the screen. The screen would remain as it is: empty, transparent. Likewise, no thought—however disturbing—can ever disturb awareness. You remain as you are: the light of clear knowing. Thus, your nature is peace.

Now consider bodily sensations. Let’s imagine them as scribbles on this very page. Could any scribble, however dark, harm the screen on which it appears?

Absolutely not.

Likewise, no sensation can touch your essence, the space of pure presence. You are inherently free.

When considering bodily sensations, it can be helpful to think of presence as an open, empty space. If someone entered a room and blew a trumpet, would that harm the physical space in the room? It’s simply sound—vibrations moving through the air. Likewise, sensations are simply vibrations moving through you, the space of pure presence. They might seem unpleasant or intense, but they cannot touch what you essentially are.

In the end, we don’t need to stop thinking or change our sensations. We only need to recognize the peace that is already here, shining as the light of pure knowing.

It might feel as though we have been on a journey. We began by naming the thought and sensations that comprise the suffering. Then we asked, “Am I the thought or sensation, or the awareness that knows them?” Finally, we explored our essence—pure awareness—and recognized that it is inherently peaceful and free.

We did not arrive at a new destination. Our attention simply returned to its source: pure presence, the kingdom of heaven within.

1. Everything I share is based on my experience. It’s not meant to be “the one and only way,” nor is it meant to replace traditional clinical care (e.g., therapy, medicine).

2. Robert Sapolsky describes this in his seminal book on stress and coping, Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers.

3. Awareness is synonymous with consciousness, presence or the subject of experience. It refers to the simple experience of being aware, as Rupert Spira describes.

4. Recorded in Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, compiled by Munagala Venkataramaiah, Talk 55.

5. The Nature of Consciousness: Essays on the Unity of Mind and Matter, p. 15

Dear friends,

Thank you for the great gift of your time and attention.

Would you like support as you explore the peace of your true nature? I’m delighted to be offering private sessions on Zoom. No prior experience is needed. My intention is to meet you exactly where you are—and walk with you, step-by-step, back home. To learn more or book a session, please click here:

I am also offering a private 12-week program for anyone seeking a deeper immersion. This program includes weekly one-hour sessions and daily check-ins—a bit like having me in your back pocket. If you’d like to learn more, you may do so here:

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If you’d like to listen to the recordings of previous meditations, you can find them on YouTube. And feel free to connect on Facebook, Instagram or LinkedIn.

Take good care,

Kyra