You don’t have to believe everything you think

How decentering can help us step out of worry and overthinking

Have you ever noticed how convincing our thoughts can be?

A thought appears — What if this goes wrong? What if I made the wrong decision? What if I can't cope? — and within seconds, we are no longer simply having a thought.

We are inside it.

Our body reacts. We start searching for solutions. One thought leads to another, and before we know it, we may have spent twenty minutes trying to solve a future that hasn't happened yet. This is particularly common with worry.

Worry can feel remarkably similar to problem-solving. Our mind tells us that if we just think about something a little longer, run through all the possible scenarios one more time, perhaps we'll finally find the answer — or at least feel more prepared.

Sometimes thinking is useful, of course. There is a problem, we consider our options, make a decision and take action. But sometimes thinking has quietly stopped being useful and turned into a loop. And often, the first thing we need is not a better answer to our thoughts, but a little more distance from them.

Learning to step back from our thoughts

One of the most useful skills we cultivate through mindfulness is the ability to notice our thinking without automatically getting caught up in it.

Psychologists use the term metacognition for our capacity to become aware of our own thinking. A closely related concept is decentering: the ability to observe thoughts and feelings as passing mental events rather than automatically experiencing them as facts or as an accurate reflection of reality.

Consider the difference between: "Something is going to go wrong". and: "I'm noticing that I'm having the thought that something is going to go wrong."

At first glance, this may seem like little more than a change in wording. But psychologically, something important has happened. The external situation hasn't changed. The thought hasn't disappeared. We haven't decided whether it is true or false.

What has changed is our relationship to the thought. Instead of being completely inside it, we can see it. And in that small space, we regain some choice about what happens next.

Why worry can be so compelling

Our minds are prediction machines. They constantly draw on past experience to anticipate what might happen next. This ability is enormously useful. It allows us to plan, prepare and protect ourselves. But the same system can also generate an endless stream of possible threats.

• What if they don't like my proposal?
• What if my child isn't OK?
• What if I can't manage everything I need to do?
• What if that pain means something serious?

Because these thoughts concern things that matter to us, they can feel urgent. And because uncertainty is uncomfortable, the mind often responds by thinking more.

We rehearse conversations. We revisit decisions. We imagine different outcomes. We search for certainty. For a while, this can even feel productive. But there is an important difference between thinking about a problem and being caught in repetitive thinking about a problem.

Useful thinking tends to lead somewhere: towards a decision, an action, or an acceptance that there is nothing more we can do for now. Worry often brings us back to where we started.

A thought is not the same as a fact

When we are caught in our thoughts, this distinction can become surprisingly difficult to see. If the mind says, I won't be able to cope, the body may respond as though this predicted future were already happening. If the mind says, "She must be upset with me,” we may start reacting to an assumption as though we know it to be true.

If the mind says, “I need to figure this out now,” we can spend hours trying to find certainty where certainty simply isn't available. Decentering doesn't ask us to decide that these thoughts are wrong.Instead, it introduces a different possibility: This is what my mind is telling me right now.

That small shift matters. A thought can contain useful information without being the whole truth. It can be influenced by fear, previous experiences, assumptions, mood or stress. It can be a possibility rather than a prediction.

When we can see that, we have more freedom to decide whether a thought needs our attention — or whether we can allow it to pass.

Decentering is not positive thinking

This is an important distinction. Mindfulness is not about replacing “Something will go wrong” with “Everything will be fine.” We don't know that everything will be fine. Nor is decentering about ignoring problems, suppressing difficult thoughts or emotionally distancing ourselves from what matters. 

Sometimes worry is pointing towards something that genuinely needs our attention. If there is an action we can take, we take it. But not every thought requires a response. And not every worry requires more thinking.

Sometimes the mind is simply doing what minds do: remembering, predicting, judging, comparing, rehearsing and imagining. Mindfulness helps us become better at recognising the difference.

How can we practise decentering?

Decentering is less something we understand intellectually than something we learn through experience. You can begin very simply. The next time you notice yourself caught in thought, see whether you can mentally take half a step back. Instead of “I can't handle this,” notice: “I'm having the thought that I can't handle this.”

Instead of “This meeting is going to be a disaster,”: “My mind is predicting that this meeting will go badly.”

You don't need to repeat these sentences mechanically. They are simply ways of reminding yourself that there is a difference between you and the stream of thoughts passing through your mind.

Then bring some attention back to what is actually happening right now.

• Feel your feet on the ground.
• Notice your breathing.
• Notice the sensations in your body.
• Look around you.

This isn't an attempt to make the thought disappear. It is a way of widening your attention so that the thought is no longer the only thing in your field of awareness.

From there, you may be better able to ask: Is there something I need to do right now?

If there is, do it. If there isn't, perhaps you don't need to solve this particular future just yet.

An experiment with sounds and thoughts

A lovely way to experience decentering is through meditation.

We can start with sound. When we sit quietly and listen, sounds simply appear in awareness: a car passing, voices outside, a bird, the hum of a computer. We don't have to make them arrive. We don't have to make them leave. They appear, change and disappear.

Thoughts can be observed in much the same way. A memory appears. A plan. A judgement. A worry. We notice it. And rather than following it into the next thought and the next, we practise letting it be there until our attention returns to the present — or until another thought comes along.

This is what we explore in the Sounds and Thoughts meditation. 

Listen to the Sounds and Thoughts meditation

You don't need to stop thinking during the meditation. In fact, noticing that you have become caught in thought is part of the practice.

Each time you recognise “Ah, thinking”, you are already practising metacognitive awareness.

Why this matters for resilience

Resilience is sometimes understood as our ability to cope with difficult circumstances. But an important part of resilience is also our capacity to work skilfully with what happens inside us when circumstances are difficult. We cannot control every thought that appears. We cannot prevent the mind from imagining unwanted futures or revisiting the past. 

But we can gradually become less automatically governed by everything it produces. That creates space between stimulus and response. Space to notice what is happening, regulate ourselves and choose what deserves our attention. And that is a skill we can strengthen.

The aim isn't to have fewer thoughts

Mindfulness doesn't teach us to empty the mind. Nor does it promise a life without worry. It teaches us something perhaps more useful: to recognise thoughts for what they are — events in the mind that come and go.

Some contain important information. Some require action. Others are old habits, predictions, fears or stories. The more clearly we can see the difference, the more freedom we have in how we respond.

We may still have the thought. We just don't have to go wherever it wants to take us.