I can get annoyed at the smallest things: impossible-to-open plastic packaging, IKEA furniture assembly, or software instructions written in an alien language. My overblown reaction to these frustrating experiences feels out of my control. I always believed my short temper was something I inherited from my dad – an inevitable trait I had to live with and try to rein in.
And then I started meditating.
Years ago, a major life change pushed me to explore meditation. It eased my grief, helped me be kind to myself during a difficult transition, and helped me accept and not be ruled by my anger. After several months, however, I noticed something unexpected. My quick-to-anger reaction to frustration started fading away.
I noticed it first on the road. Stuck in traffic and running late, I didn’t feel my usual impatience or urge to yell at or tailgate the car in front of me (as if that would help). I stayed settled and accepted the traffic calmly. I didn’t have to tell myself to do this. It just happened. It felt like my reactive brain circuits had shut down, and “staying cool” was readily available. I’d smile to myself when I noticed I’d have a more methodical approach to solving a problem, rather than irritation. This was a robust change. I wasn’t calm because I’d meditated five minutes ago (a “state” change), I was calm because I’d meditated regularly for months and created a “trait” change in my brain.
What happened in my brain? The neuroscience of regular meditation is still evolving but my experience aligns with studies showing increased activity of the prefrontal cortex (the brain’s “adult” in the room that manages impulse control, logic, and emotional regulation), and decreased activity of the amygdala (the brain’s threat detector: think fight, flight, or freeze). Together these changes help improve attention and emotional regulation.
Fast forward to now. What a world we live in! This past year and a half has been stressful and difficult with emotions like anger, outrage, and helplessness surfacing. I’ve learned to take breaks from reading the news, but I felt my reactivity come roaring back. Certainly, stress lowers our threshold for “losing it,” but also, my meditation practice had
floundered. While getting lost in the details of the latest outrageous event, I was not putting in time on the cushion. This became crystal-clear to me when I got absurdly irritated trying to replace a stubborn battery.
So, I got serious about meditating again. I went on retreat – what a welcome balm! My practice isn’t perfect, but I try to do something every day, even if for just a few minutes. My tolerance for mishaps is growing. In the moment of irritation, I have space to recognize what is happening. I can label the event – “Oh, unpleasant,” and just be with the situation, rather than spinning into negative thoughts that fuel angst. Do bad drivers annoy me? Sure. Does traffic bug me? Sometimes. But I laugh at myself when it does and try not to get rattled. Recently, when getting off a packed airplane, I felt that lovely warm blanket of meditation-supported patience as I waited for the people ahead of me to gather their things, find their bag in the overhead compartment, and make their way off the plane.
Meditation changes your brain. It changed mine. And no plastic packaging can unnerve me now—well, almost.