Can we stay open when everything tells us to harden?

In recent times a lot of my mindfulness practice has centred on the inquiry into curiosity versus certainty - a yearning to broaden my understanding and consciousness. So when I found myself in a place of solid, righteous certainty on a recent trip to the UK it was a powerful physical, mental, and emotional moment that became a new teaching on the path.

The incident happened as I was heading to visit a dear friend who’s been ill. So I was in a space of tenderness, care and anticipated joy. As I settled on the train crossing London, I became aware of an excitable, nervous energy in those around me - one of eager anticipation. At each stop, another group of middle-aged white men joined the carriage, sharing smiles and excited chatter about where they were to meet up.

Initially I assumed they were heading to a nearby football game. I had a little trepidation as over the past weeks there had been a growing vocalisation and demonstrations from the far-right, with England flags appearing everywhere. Seeing this lurch towards intolerance sweep across my country had caused me much sadness. In earlier times English football fans had strong links with the far-right, so I started to feel my body tensing and my breath quickening. Some of the trepidation also stemmed from a deeply unpleasant experience I had as a teenage girl of being on a train packed tight with Millwall supporters. I noticed my body had braced for action, instinctively feeling a threat and wanting to make sure I could protect myself and the two non-white women seated beside me, physically and verbally, if needed.

As I listened, I realized to my surprise that they were going to a march. Most marches at the time were for Gaza, but given the way they dressed and spoke, my immediate presumption was that it must be something else. I was able to catch and check my bias here, rationalizing that there must be many working-class white men who feel passionately about the situation in Palestine. As I pondered this possibility, my breath and body relaxed a little.

Still, when my stop came I felt relieved to be leaving the carriage. But as I stepped onto the next train, there were more and more of the same excited middle-aged white men. I tuned into their chatter and it quickly became clear the march they were heading to was a far-right gathering. I didn’t know at the time but they were heading to the largest nationalist event in the UK in decades where around 150,000 people were addressed by Tommy Robinson, Elon Musk, and a swathe of far-right politicians who shared hate speech, racist ideologies and conspiracy theories.

In that instant I felt the righteous certainty flood through my body. I felt my opinions solidify and my muscles strengthen. My breath and my mind narrowed to a single point - that these people were wrong, evil, rotten. This fierce righteous, hot anger radiated out of my eyes. As I locked eyes with one of the ‘deplorables’ I glared with as much contempt as I could muster. I wanted to let him know that his views were not acceptable. That he wasn’t acceptable. He received the message and lowered his gaze sheepishly to the floor. I felt the power of victory surge through my body. My body and mind felt more solid and firm than ever.

At the next stop the men poured out of the tube, but the solid, hard imprint of the experience, this hot satisfaction remained in my body. It was like wearing a suit of armour. Noticing this lingering solidity brought to mind the meditation practice on curiosity I had guided a few weeks before - where we intentionally exaggerate the certainty in the body. Remembering this something small shifted. A whisper of doubt. A loosening around my heart. I started to wonder whether that contemptuous gaze was truly a "win." I wondered how the man might have felt: small, rejected, hurt maybe? What happens with that pain I created? Might he take it out on someone less powerful later? Or might it strengthen his allegiance to his beliefs, his group? I saw that I may have inadvertently thrown more fuel onto the fire.

I became curious about what it might be that drew him - and the others - to that march. What pain and unhappiness do they hold that allows them to share and promote hate speech? I saw that in rejecting their views as abhorrent, I gave myself no space to understand them. If I continued down this path of righteous rejection of their worthiness as humans, my only victory would be a world in which their views are simply squashed and suppressed.

I wondered how many times had I done this before in smaller ways - written someone off, shut down dialogue, closed my heart because it felt safer to be right than to be open? How many small moments of contempt had I offered without noticing, each one perhaps pushing someone further into their corner, further into their certainty?

When I arrived at Heathrow I found a quiet spot and listened to the guided meditation on curiosity. It helped to dissolve much of the solidity from my body and widen the space in my heart. I saw that no matter how painful someone's beliefs are, it's critical not to shut them out of my heart, not to make them bad and me good (no matter how safe and enjoyable that feels). It doesn't mean I shouldn't protect the vulnerable when needed, but I understood that the protection of some doesn't necessitate the demonisation of others.

Watching the planes come and go, I didn't find ‘the’ answer. I still don’t know how to comfortably hold both my care for the vulnerable and my understanding that closing my heart to anyone - even those marching toward hatred - only creates more of what I fear. But I was reminded how vital it is to cultivate these practices - so that they can create a necessary pause when certainty surges and overtakes the mind. They support us not only to come to a more centred place but a more open one too.

Doing the practice that day enabled me to let go of the hatred and fierce anger in my heart and move back into the space of tenderness, care, and joy, ready to see my friend.

If you would like to explore this practice you can find the guided meditation on curiosity here.