Get Outta My Mind, Get Into The Light
Coming Soon…
“No one can stop you from claiming the power of your own mind, but only you can claim it.” This statement from Rick Hanson, a clinical psychologist, renowned author and long-time, accomplished meditator, encapsulates the essence of personal agency, and frames an exploration of resilience in the face of oppression.
Rick, who first spoke on our platform in 2021, appears today alongside Brang Nan, a storyteller and witness of Myanmar's struggle for democracy, who joins from within Myanmar. Their dialogue delves deep into the challenges of living under military oppression, survivor guilt, isolation, trauma, and the mental and emotional toll felt on individuals and communities. Through a mixture of personal accounts, reflections on Buddhist teachings and psychological insights, the conversation paints a vivid picture of the pursuit of inner peace amid turmoil.
Rick begins the conversation by expressing his solidarity with the people of Myanmar, articulating his deep, moral outrage over the military’s treatment of its citizens, and emphasizing the urgency and gravity of taking on this conversation. He notes that he has a particularly powerful connection to the country through his practice of meditation; many of his teachers trained in Myanmar and he has close ties to monastics who have fled the country due to persecution.
Brang Nan offers the raw and poignant perspective of someone navigating the dangers of life under a military dictatorship. His recounting of the years following the 2021 coup highlights the collective experience of a people grappling with grief, fear, and the erosion of trust. He describes the initial unity of the protests as an almost euphoric “high,” only to be followed by the crushing reality of isolation and withdrawal as the risks of continuing to speak out became insurmountable due to safety concerns. Despite the knowledge that most citizens are on the same side, fear creates barriers, preventing open conversations and fostering a profound sense of loneliness.
Another central theme that emerges in this dialog is survivor guilt—a heavy burden for those who live through continued violence and oppression while witnessing the suffering and deaths of others. Brang Nan describes his grief over personal losses, including the death of loved ones, while also reflecting on what he sees as the symbolic death of the nation’s collective hopes and dreams. He explains how these profound losses create a mental and emotional burden that makes it difficult to fully experience moments of joy, resulting in a kind of collectively shared depression. For Brang Nan, each small instance of happiness he has experienced ultimately becomes overshadowed by the larger context of suffering, creating an internal conflict that results in feelings of guilt. This pervasive tension, he notes, inhibits not only individual healing but also the ability to engage in meaningful relationships or find solace in shared experiences. Moreover, the emotional weight of carrying all this compounds over time, leaving many, including himself, trapped in cycles of deepening numbness and detachment. He articulates an internal conflict about grieving for oneself when surrounded by far greater suffering of others, as well as holding a sense of responsibility to stay engaged, and doing what one can for the country. All of this hinders one’s ability to process emotions fully. Whether blocking out joy or sorrow, this contributes to a numbing effect, further complicating efforts to heal.
Rick offers insights from both psychology and Buddhist teachings in addressing these challenges. For example, he references the Buddha’s distinction between painful feelings and the mind’s response to them, emphasizing the importance of not allowing suffering to “invade the mind and remain.” He encourages mindfulness practices such as labeling emotions to create distance between the mind and those overwhelming feelings. Noting research on neuroplasticity, Rick explains how the mere practice of naming one’s emotion activates the prefrontal cortex, calming the brain’s reactive centers, and helping foster a greater sense of control. Looking at the role of community and connection in healing, Rick highlights the therapeutic power of feeling part of a larger collective or cause, as well as the importance of recognizing that one’s suffering is shared by others, and the willingness to express one’s vulnerability.
For Brang Nan, this resonates deeply, as he has experienced the nourishing effect of vulnerability and openness in fostering connections, where it is safe to do so. He finds that allowing himself to be emotionally open not only strengthens his personal relationships but also creates a space for mutual understanding and support. This willingness helps break down barriers imposed by fear and mistrust, especially in a context where social isolation and emotional withdrawal have become so common. Through honest and open interactions, he has been able to connect with others on a profound level, offering and receiving solace in shared experiences. These connections serve as an antidote to the pervasive loneliness and isolation that he articulated earlier. They also underscore the resilience and courage now necessary to even try to build connections in an environment so fraught with fear; by choosing to risk and nurture such relationships, Brang Nan finds strength and solidarity that become essential tools for navigating adversity.
As an example, he recounts a transformative conversation he had with a taxi driver, one that led to the discovery of shared hopes and struggles, and ultimately formed a new friendship. Brang Nan describes how even though it began as a casual exchange, it quickly deepened, touching on the themes of mortality, personal loss, and the problems of their country. “If we allow ourselves to be a little bit brave, a little bit open to sharing, then what I’ve realized is that we’re all in the same boat,” he says. “And what I actually learned at the towards the end of the conversation, which started out quite general, is that we both care deeply about the country and about the future, and we both kind of became friends.”
Still, he notes that burnout has become a real issue for Brang Nan and his friends, which is perhaps only natural after four years of relentless and brutal conflict that still shows no sign of abating. The constant pressure to contribute to the country’s future, compounded by a sense of helplessness over uncontrollable events, drains many of their emotional and physical reserves. However, Rick asserts that inner peace is not in any way at odds with activism but is, in fact, its very foundation! He emphasizes that a centered and peaceful mind provides the clarity and resilience needed to navigate challenges effectively. Without inner peace, the drive to “do everything” can lead to inefficiency and further exhaustion, while a stable mind allows for focused and impactful efforts.
A key metaphor Rick shares here is the image of tending a fruit tree, a teaching of the great Thai forest monk, Ajahn Chah. Rick explains, “You can pick out a good little tree, find a really good place to plant it, water it carefully, and protect it. But you cannot make it give you an apple! You can tend to the causes, but you cannot control the results.” Brang Nan finds this metaphor both comforting and empowering; it reminds him to prioritize small, meaningful actions within his sphere of influence, that he can control, while letting go of any attachment to the results. He also observes that once individuals begin caring for their own well-being, they naturally extend compassion and kindness to others, creating ripples of positive change.
Regarding the dictatorship’s psychological tactics, Rick notes that oppressive regimes aim to dominate not just people’s actions, but their minds as well, fostering a sense of despair, as well as what he terms as “helpless outrage.” He stresses the radical act of reclaiming one’s mental autonomy by refusing to let oppressors occupy their thoughts. Rick describes this in forceful terms, calling it “a revolutionary assertion of human dignity.” He goes even further, saying, “To put it really bluntly, get the assholes out of your head!” He continues, “If I may use a phrase, fuck them! Live well, meanwhile, as best you can.” He argues that when more and more people reclaim their mental autonomy in this way, it is represents not just an individual, personal triumph, but also can be seen as a collective act of defiance against systems of oppression. “The dictator wants to invade your mind and remain there,” Rick states emphatically, “and the refusal to let them dominate your thoughts is a powerful form of protest.” This assertion of individual agency, he emphasizes, becomes the foundation for broader collective empowerment and resistance.
A critical part of the conversation concerns the practical application of mindfulness, with intentional positivity. Rick lists four steps to guide this nature of personal growth. The first is identifying and clearly identifying the challenge. The second is determining what inner qualities would help meet the challenge successfully. The third is then creating opportunities that will help one cultivate that inner resource. And finally, one actively works to internalize and own that quality. In this work, Rick emphasizes the importance of recognizing and appreciating what he calls “ordinary jewels” as well—that is, the small, positive moments and truths in daily life. By slowing down to savor these experiences, individuals can reinforce positive neural pathways, cultivating resilience and well-being even in the face of adversity.
The role of storytelling emerges as a powerful tool for healing and advocacy. For Brang Nan, storytelling allows him to confront his emotions more easily, enabling him to process his pain by facing it directly, rather than trying to escape it. Storytelling is a way to digest and transform suffering into something constructive, a process that is instrumental in his recovery. In addition, he finds that vulnerability and openness in storytelling facilitate connection with others. By sharing his own emotions and experiences, others then respond by opening up themselves, fostering meaningful exchanges in the process, which helps counteract feelings of isolation and distrust that has developed due to fear in his conflict-ridden environment. So it is both a personal coping mechanism and a way to help rebuild trust and solidarity in his community.
In closing, Rick reinforces the importance of valuing inner peace as a moral and practical foundation. He reminds listeners that the more powerless they feel in external circumstances, the more vital it is to exert control over their inner world. As for Brang Nan, he acknowledges the privilege of being able to reflect and engage in such a dialogue as this one, while committing to continue his journey of personal and collective growth amid a devastating and ongoing conflict.
Brang Nan offers a poignant reflection as the conversation concludes: “Once you get out of that fog you keep yourself in, you start to open your eyes. And when you do, you see others around you doing similar things, surviving, contributing, caring. It’s this openness and connection that nourish us and give us the strength to move forward, even when everything feels impossible.”
If you liked this episode, we recommend checking out these past interviews which explore similar themes:
· Jake Snyder describes how listening to Thiri’s story of resilience and survival on our podcast deeply moved him, inspiring him to take action by donating to her work. He reflects on the power of vulnerability and personal storytelling to connect with others, highlighting how one individual's struggle can galvanize compassion and a sense of global solidarity.
· Derek Pyle shares that his upbringing in a Buddhist family and subsequent spiritual journey were deeply influenced by Engaged Buddhism, particularly its connection to activism and humanitarian relief. He explores how Buddhism's principles of compassion and mindfulness not only guide personal growth but also motivate meaningful action in addressing social and political injustices.
· Ven. Vimala tells how witnessing Myanmar’s military coup led to her initiating the symbolic act of overturning the alms bowl, a historic Buddhist practice of protest. She emphasizes the role of symbolic actions and collective solidarity in confronting ethical crises, advocating for the integration of spiritual practice with tangible, values-driven activism.
· Ayya Yeshe’s spiritual journey as a Buddhist nun led her to confront gender inequalities and social injustices entrenched in monastic and societal systems. She discusses how Buddhism's ethical and communal framework encourages addressing both personal and systemic suffering, highlighting the interconnectedness of spiritual and worldly liberation.
· Steve Smith recounts his profound experiences practicing in Burma, where he encountered a depth of monastic devotion and mindfulness that inspired his life path. He reflects on the transformative power of faith and traditional Buddhist teachings, emphasizing their capacity to foster personal insight and community connection even in challenging environments.
· Soeya Min describes how his work in media, particularly podcasting, became a way to foster dialogue and mental health awareness during Myanmar's ongoing crises. He reflects on the necessity of adapting modern platforms to preserve and share stories, describing how they can connect communities and promote healing amidst adversity.