'Minding the Unconscious in the Present Moment Now'

Mindfulness and “being present” are everywhere — from meditation apps to workplace wellness programs to glossy magazine covers at the grocery store. These practices are often promoted as quick fixes for stress, anxiety, or distraction. But what does it really mean to “be present” when we always carry our past with us?

Mainstream mindfulness usually focuses on the here-and-now: watching the breath, quieting the mind, or noticing thoughts as they arise. These are valuable tools, but they often leave out a deeper truth.

The unconscious mind doesn’t disappear just because we focus on the moment. Our histories — especially unresolved or painful experiences — live within us. They quietly shape how we see the world, how we relate to others, and how we respond to stress.

Practicing mindfulness can bring important benefits: calmer emotions, less stress, and greater clarity. Many people find that it creates an inner “holding space” where they can observe feelings and thoughts without being overwhelmed by them.

But there are blind spots. Sometimes mindfulness becomes a way to bypass pain rather than face it. A person might appear calm on the surface while using mindfulness to avoid grief, anger, or trauma. In those cases, “being present” can act as a shield against the deeper work that needs attention.

From a psychodynamic perspective, the past is always woven into the present. Old experiences — especially those that were overwhelming or left unresolved — often resurface in disguised ways. Freud called this the repetition compulsion, where the mind replays old patterns in hopes of mastering them.

This means that even in the present moment, we’re not arriving empty-handed. Our unconscious brings pieces of the past into the now, influencing what we notice, how we feel, and how we react.

This is where mindfulness and therapy meet. Being mindful is not only about noticing the breath or slowing down thoughts. It’s also about making space to notice the influence of the past and bringing unconscious patterns into awareness.

When we do this, mindfulness shifts from a practice of reacting to one of responding.

• Reaction is often unconscious, fueled by old wounds or habits. 
• Response is conscious, chosen in the moment with clarity and intention.
   

True presence allows us to pause, recognize the past at work, and respond differently — breaking cycles that once felt automatic.

So perhaps being mindful is less about “emptying the mind” and more about being open to all that arises — including the echoes of history, family, and emotion within us. In this view, mindfulness is not just about stress reduction. It’s about integrating layers of self, deepening awareness, and allowing healing to unfold in the now.

At the same time, it’s important to recognize that abiding in the now can also bring moments of genuine spaciousness and peace — states in which thought falls away and a quiet, open awareness emerges. These states are sometimes described as “emptiness,” but not in the sense of numbness or vacancy. Rather, they are marked by stillness, clarity, and presence.

This kind of emptiness is very different from dissociation, which pulls us away from experience. Meditative emptiness is more like settling into a larger field of awareness — one that can hold whatever arises without being overwhelmed by it.

Here it is also useful to make a distinction between attachment as understood in Western psychology and attachment as spoken of in Eastern traditions.

• In the West, attachment refers to our earliest bonds with caregivers and how those patterns shape our relationships throughout life. Secure attachment provides safety and trust, while insecure attachment can leave us struggling with closeness or independence.
   
• In the East, particularly in Buddhist philosophy, attachment often refers to clinging — the grasping at people, objects, or experiences as though they can provide lasting satisfaction. This kind of attachment is seen as a source of suffering because everything is impermanent.
   

Holding these two meanings together can deepen our understanding of mindfulness. Therapy helps us heal early relational wounds so that attachment feels safer and more secure. At the same time, mindfulness helps us loosen the grip of clinging, making space for freedom and acceptance.

Mindfulness is powerful, but its deepest value comes when we understand it in the context of the unconscious. We are never just “in the now” — we are always carrying traces of what came before. And yet, in the very same now, we may also experience moments of deep peace and open awareness, where the mind quiets and we feel a sense of spacious presence.

When mindfulness is paired with curiosity, compassion, and psychological depth, it becomes far more than a stress-management tool. It becomes a path toward freedom: a way to move from unconscious reaction to conscious response, from repeating the past to living more fully in the present — and in doing so, opening new possibilities for creating the futures we long for.