Life is made up of problems. Which is no problem. Without problems, life would be endless vanilla pudding. Figuring out what to do when life doesn’t go as planned is the texture of existence.


One of the greater gifts meditative practice offers is an approach to solving problems that makes the problem less problematic even when the solving isn’t going well. Meditation helps to confront problems with the right mix of thinking and not thinking.


In meditation, when we move our attention from our conscious, verbalized thoughts to the sensory experience of what’s happening now, thoughts that come can be refined into insight, into wisdom that surprises us in the form of realizations. Putting sensory perception in place of thinking can bring wisdom about any problem, any decision, any path forward from a point of inertia or trapped-ness or dissatisfaction or suffering.


But perception alone is of little use without reason as a dance partner, to turn perception into movement. When confronted with a problem, not thinking consciously about it in the name of being cool or chill or meditative is the wrong approach. That non-strategy will bring inaction as the problem worsens.


What we might do instead is attack the problem with our reasoning mind, while understanding that conscious reason can go only so far in problem-solving. Problems, if they could be solved by reason alone, would not be problems. They would be a to-do list.


Once our reasoning about a problem hits a dead end or repetitive loop, that’s when to let the problem recede from conscious thought. Instead of allowing reason to pace around in its cage and turn into frustration and worry, we can meditate instead on the sensory feeling of the fear or anger or sadness or distress flowing from the problem, which will help calm those negative emotions (try it) and put the mind in a better state for realization about what to do next.


Sooner or later, a next step will come – maybe a small step, maybe a big one, maybe a right one, maybe a wrong one, but a step nonetheless, and one invented by a less frantic mind. We reactivate our reasoning to put that step into action, and start the process over again.


In this way, problems turn into something like puzzles, or writing our life story as it unfolds, something with satisfaction in the act of solving, not just in the solution itself, which may come only gradually, or manifest in form of the next problem.

Not to trivialize the problems of life. A diagnosis of cancer, or the untimely death of a partner – both of which I’ve faced the last few years – are puzzles no one looks forward to confronting, stories no one chooses to write about themselves.


But throwing oneself into a challenge understanding the place of reason and the power of perception can’t help but improve the situation, knowing that the bigger the problem, the more potential for growth and joy in the solving. Even the problem of death can be addressed as a challenge to improve the time we have left by making peace with the impermanence of ourselves and everything in existence. We can take comfort that our problems, too, can’t last.