Being vs Doing Consciousness: Meeting Yourself in the Space Between
When Doing Won’t Let Go
I once believed I was only as good as what I accomplished. If I wasn’t doing—solving, fixing, improving—anxiety would creep in, tightening my chest, racing my thoughts. The idea of "being consciousness" felt useless, almost threatening, as if I’d vanish without perpetual motion. I’d sit down to meditate and almost immediately, the urge to check my phone, adjust the lighting, or mentally rehearse my to-do list would hijack the moment. Doing consciousness felt like my default: necessary, familiar, hard to question.
What helped me begin to soften was learning—slowly, sometimes reluctantly—what the mind calls consciousness is far more layered than mere thought or action. There is a depth to it, a possibility that goes beyond keeping busy.
A Glimpse of Stillness (And Its Strange Comfort)
Yet there were these flickers. Moments where I wasn’t achieving or escaping—like noticing the hush after a long exhale, or staring at leaves trembling on a branch. For a breath or two, something in me would soften. I didn’t recognize it then as "the observer" or "pure being," but I remember the relief: not needing to be anything but here.
Looking back, I think these moments were invitations from subtler levels of consciousness — opportunities to sense, however briefly, a more open and gentle mode of being.
Who Is the Observer, Really?
This is the question nobody could answer for me: If I’m not my thoughts or my frantic doing, then who is seeing all this? Sometimes I’d try to force myself into a state of pure being, but even that became another thing to do—another item on the spiritual checklist. It was only when I let myself not know, when I simply noticed the swirl of thoughts and sensations without pushing them away, that I began to sense the observer. Not a separate part of me, but a kind of gentle spaciousness. An awareness that could hold everything, including my discomfort with stillness.
If you want to go deeper into this inner witness, I found it helpful to explore the observer self concept—not as a goal, but as a subtle opening to what’s already quietly present.
If You’ve Never Tasted Stillness
You don’t have to manufacture quiet or erase doing. For some of us, especially if chaos or vigilance kept us safe in childhood, the very idea of pausing can bring up fear or resistance. I learned the hard way that stillness isn’t won by force. Sometimes, just gently noticing: "Right now, I’m in doing consciousness," is enough. Maybe you put a hand on your heart, feeling the pulse of being underneath all the activity. If it feels tolerable, you might ask, "Am I willing to rest, even for a breath?" But you don’t have to.
In the beginning, I struggled with the onslaught of thoughts and self-critique. But what changed things wasn’t fighting those thoughts, it was experiencing for myself that I am not my thoughts. There is a deeper current beneath the chatter—a current available to anyone, even (or especially) if you don’t feel immediately at home there.
How to Perceive from Stillness (If Only for a Moment)
If you want to experiment, you could try this: Instead of chasing quiet, try sensing what’s here right now, with as little interference as possible. You might become curious about the space between thoughts, or the way your body settles when you stop directing it for a few seconds. Sometimes the desire to be still is just as alive as the urge to act—and both can be witnessed. The observer isn’t something to become; it’s something to notice is already here. If distinctions intrigue you, I've found it clarifying to sense the real difference between awareness and attention, especially in moments when stillness feels slippery or distant.
Some traditions like Advaita Vedanta talk about a non-dual reality—a kind of ever-present beingness not split into observer and observed. If you’re drawn to explore further, grounding yourself in these teachings can sometimes reveal a gentler perspective, free from striving.
And for another doorway into this, the paradoxes and questions of non-duality can be surprisingly practical when you meet them with curiosity, not demand.
Why This Matters (Even if You Can’t Get It Right)
The science on being vs doing consciousness is still emerging, but what’s clear is that different neural networks light up for “default mode” (reflection, self-awareness) versus task-driven attention. For those with trauma, flipping into being mode can initially feel deeply unsafe. You get to honor those outsides and edges. There’s no wrong way to meet yourself. The truth is, I return to doing consciousness every single day. The difference is, now I know there’s another way of seeing—one that makes space for all parts of me.
May you feel the invitation to pause whenever you’re able—whether for a heartbeat, a breath, or a longer stay. It’s enough.