When it’s too hot to think clearly
A reflection on discomfort, impermanence and the kindest next step.
Someone asked me recently how I was handling the heatwave as a mindfulness teacher. Was there any practice that could be helpful?
And it got me thinking. Honestly, mindfulness has not made the heat disappear.
We don’t have that magical power ✨ (that I know of…)
It has not stopped the sweat, the foggy thinking, the discomfort, or the frustration of living in a house that was not built for this kind of weather.
But it has helped me pause.
To notice:
This is unpleasant. It’s okay not to like this.
That simple recognition can soften something, even a tiny bit.
Not because the heat suddenly becomes pleasant. Not because the body stops feeling uncomfortable. But because we are no longer adding quite so much extra struggle, what Buddhist teachings sometimes call the second arrow, by telling ourselves we should be fine, grateful, calm, productive, or “better at this”.
Sometimes mindfulness begins with being honest with ourselves.
In this post
You’ll find:
a simple mindfulness reflection for uncomfortable moments
a way to work with unpleasant feeling tone
a reminder of impermanence, without using it to dismiss what is hard
a small practice for asking: what is the kindest next step?
You can read it now, skim the headings, or save it for another warm, sticky, uncomfortable day.
This is unpleasant
In mindfulness, we sometimes explore what is known as feeling tone.
This does not mean emotion in the full story-based sense, like anger, sadness, joy or anxiety. It is more immediate than that.
It is the basic tone of experience:
pleasant
unpleasant
neutral (neither pleasant nor unpleasant)
A cool breeze on hot skin might feel pleasant. A sticky, overheated room might feel unpleasant. The feeling of your feet on the floor might be neutral, or barely noticed.
Feeling tone is simple, but it can be quite powerful to notice.
Because often, when something is unpleasant, we don’t only experience the unpleasantness itself. We also add resistance:
I hate this. I can’t cope with this. I should be getting more done. Why am I so irritable? Other people seem to be managing better than me.
🔥 And then we are not only hot. We are hot, frustrated, self-critical and fighting with the fact that we are uncomfortable.
This simple phrase might help:
This is unpleasant.
It’s okay not to like this.
For me, there is a lot of kindness in that.
It gives the body permission to be uncomfortable. It gives the mind permission not to be at its clearest. It reminds us that mindfulness is not about pretending everything is fine.
We do not have to like everything
Sometimes mindfulness is misunderstood as being calm about everything.
But mindfulness does not ask us to like discomfort, injustice, illness, uncertainty, grief, heatwaves, headaches, or difficult days.
It invites us to notice what is here with a little more honesty and care.
In the heatwave, that might mean acknowledging:
My body is uncomfortable. My mind might feel a bit fuzzy. My capacity may be different today.
That is not failure. That is information.
From there, we may be able to choose one kind next step.
🪟 Opening windows early. Closing curtains. Drinking more water. Staying indoors if possible. Using a fan. Lowering expectations. Postponing what can wait. Resting before the body has to shout.
Not everyone has the same choices, of course. Some people have to work, travel, care for others, or keep going in difficult conditions. Some people live in homes or work in places that make heat much harder to manage.
Mindfulness is not a quick fix or a solution for everything.
But it can help us meet the reality of the moment with a little more honesty and care.
This too shall pass
There was another phrase that came to mind too: “This too shall pass.”
I want to be careful with that phrase, because it can sometimes be used too quickly.
If we say “this too shall pass” as a way of dismissing discomfort, it can sound like:
Don’t make a fuss. It’s not that bad. You should be able to cope.
That is not what I mean.
For me, “this too shall pass” is not a dismissal. It is a reminder of impermanence.
The heat changes. The light changes. The body changes. Energy rises and falls. Evening comes. Clouds arrive. The next breath is not exactly the same as this one.
This does not erase the discomfort of now.
But it can help us hold two truths at once:
This is unpleasant right now. And this moment is not fixed forever.
There can be steadiness in remembering both.
I ran into one of my neighbours and, as we were talking about the heatwave, she said with a gentle smile: “Oh, we’ll be complaining about the rain next week, won’t we?”
Things will change. We might not like them. But we can learn to live with them and do our best to savour the small joys of each day.
When we cannot control the conditions
Of course, heatwaves are only one example.
There are many things we cannot fully control in our lives: weather, other people’s choices, delays, uncertainty, health, change, loss, the wider world.
Mindfulness does not give us control over everything.
But it may give us a little bit of space around our response.
A pause.
A breath.
A moment of recognition:
This is happening. This is unpleasant. I don’t have to like this. This is changing. What kind step is available now?
That kind step might be practical. It might be emotional. It might be asking for help. It might be lowering the bar. It might be doing less. It might be taking one small action that supports the body, the mind, or the heart.
A small practice for uncomfortable moments
If you are meeting something uncomfortable, whether it is heat, tiredness, uncertainty, irritation, or something else, you might give this a try:
Pause. Let yourself arrive here, even if here is not where you would choose to be.
Check in with the body. What sensations are present? Heat, tightness, heaviness, restlessness, tiredness?
Name the feeling tone. Is this pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral?
Offer yourself permission. You might say: “This is unpleasant. It’s okay not to like this”.
Remember change. Not to dismiss what is hard, but to gently recognise: This moment will not go on forever.
Ask for the kindest next step. What is available for me now? Water, shade, rest, a message, a boundary, a pause, a smaller plan?
You do not have to do this perfectly. You do not have to become calm.
You are simply practising meeting this moment with a little more care.
A gentle reminder
We do not have to like what is happening in order to respond kindly.
Sometimes the practice is simply:
This is unpleasant. It’s okay not to like this. This too shall pass. What is the kindest next step available now?
Please always take what resonates with you, and leave the rest.
💌 If you think this post might be useful for somebody else, feel free to share it.
Warmly,
Pili