When Problem Solving Becomes The Problem

Problem-solving is a job the mind readily accepts, and, quite often, it proves to be helpful.  The car isn’t working?  Whether it’s fixing it yourself or calling a mechanic, the mind is there to guide you toward a solution. But there is a shadow side: it’s when problem-solving relentlessly focuses on eradicating uncomfortable thoughts and emotions from our lives.

In a parable attributed to the Buddha, he warned of this when he spoke of the two arrows.  He noted that when we are suffering, it’s as if two arrows have hit us. The first arrow is the inevitable pains of life; the painful feelings that arise in the mind and body.  The second arrow is our mind’s reaction to that pain; the way we interpret the first arrow.

For example, if the heart appears to beat a little too fast (the first arrow), fear and hyper-fixation (the second arrow) quickly arise. Or, you remember an awkward moment that evokes the feeling of shame (the first arrow), and what follows is a strong desire to change who you are (the second arrow).

The second arrow is a proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing; it appears to help, but its problem-solving actually fuels our fears, and what follows is an unfortunate, compounding effect of unpleasant feelings. This happens because, once a “threat” is identified, our brain releases epinephrine (adrenaline), which increases heart rate, raises blood pressure, speeds breathing, and heightens muscle tension.  In other words, we feel physically worse.

That unpleasant somatic experience, when registered by the same problem-solving part of the mind, escalates our concerns.  “There is something very wrong with me,” the mind concludes, and fear increases again, and more epinephrine, as well as cortisol, are released into the body. The result is that we become stuck in the closed feedback loop of worry-driven vigilance.

The good news is that we have options when it comes to the second arrow; it can change. But, there is an important thing to know if you are trapped in this way: the brain has been conditioned to think in this patterned manner; it’s not going to turn off instantly.

Mindfulness is necessary here. The unconditioned openness that mindfulness affords us gives a new way of meeting our experiences.  Through practice, we can recognize that we are not the first arrow or the second arrow; we are the sky in which both arrows are shot.

It’s surprisingly easy to miss this and mistake worrying and similar second arrow experiences for mindfulness, and even for who you are. But if you learn to recognize and divest from second arrow arisings, you can find a new way of being with the first arrow, the catalyst that got us going in the first place.

Maybe it’s a clench in the solar plexus, a knot in the throat, or a contraction in the shoulders.  It could be the sadness behind our eyes, the heartbreak in the chest, or the anxiety in the belly. Whatever it is, when we find it in the body and mindfully allow it to unfold, we can discover that these experiences were never problems to solve.

Instead, we discover that these experiences offer us a gateway into the wholeness of being. When we are sincere in this approach of allowing first arrow experiences, meaning we are free from the agenda to change them, we most often find that they transform on their own and leave us open and present.

The next time you encounter suffering, see if you can meet it from the space of mindful awareness and identify if you are caught in the second arrow.  That’s the doorway to shifting from explanation to experience, and by allowing first arrow experiences, you can reveal a more profound truth: you are the ocean of awareness that is always present and always larger than your transient challenges.