Practicing Michael Singer’s Path to Inner Freedom—One Moment at a Time
If you’ve tried to meditate, stop overthinking, or “let go” the way people say—but still feel stuck in your head—this might explain why.
There’s a voice in your head.
It talks all day long.
It reacts. It analyzes. It plans, judges, explains, worries, defends, and replays.
It tells stories about what just happened and what might happen next.
And most of the time, we don’t even notice it’s there.
We just believe it.
We follow it.
We live inside it.
But Michael Singer points to something radical—and disarmingly simple:
You are not the voice. You are the one who hears it.
That shift changes everything.
It has for me.
Because the moment you become aware that it’s talking—
you’ve stepped back.
You’re no longer in the stream.
You’re watching from the riverbank.
That’s not a technique.
It’s not a trick.
It’s simply the beginning of remembering who you are.
You don’t need to stop the thoughts.
You don’t need to change what they’re saying.
You just need to notice that they’re not you.
That small shift—one breath of awareness—is enough to open a space inside you.
And in that space, a new kind of freedom begins to emerge.
Why We Get Stuck: The Illusion of Control
Most of us don’t realize we’re trapped.
We’re just trying to get through the day.
Handle the next moment. Solve the next problem.
Make the discomfort stop.
We think if we can fix what’s wrong out there—or in here—we’ll finally feel okay.
But underneath the to-do lists and reactions is something subtler:
a constant effort to manage our inner experience.
What you’re really trying to fix… is how you feel inside.
So the voice in your head starts narrating.
“This shouldn’t be happening.”
“I have to figure this out.”
“If I can just get control, I’ll be fine.”
You don’t do this because you’re broken.
You do it because some part of you doesn’t feel safe.
And the mind believes that talking will make you feel better.
But the real shift doesn’t come from answering the voice.
It comes from seeing that it’s talking at all.
Noticing that you’re disturbed is more powerful than trying to resolve the disturbance.
Because the moment you notice, you’ve stepped out of identification.
And the moment you step out, the pattern begins to lose its grip.
You don’t need to fix your inner world.
You just need to stop being pulled into it.
The rest unfolds naturally from there.
Noticing the Voice: The First Doorway to Freedom
The first shift is simple.
Not easy. But simple.
You begin to notice:
There’s a voice in your head.
It never stops.
It has opinions about everything.
It says things you’d never say out loud—and still, you think it’s you.
But it isn’t.
Michael Singer doesn’t ask you to stop the voice.
He doesn’t ask you to change it, argue with it, or replace it with better thoughts.
He just says:
“Notice that it’s talking.
And notice that you are the one hearing it.”
That noticing is everything.
You don’t have to do anything else in that moment.
You don’t need to understand what the voice is saying or why it’s saying it.
The awareness itself is the freedom.
And if you forget?
If you get pulled back into the stream of thought?
That’s okay.
The next time you notice—you’ve come home again.
That’s how it starts.
Not with control. Not with effort.
With a single moment of noticing that reveals… you were never the voice at all.
Sometimes that moment comes quietly.
Like today, when I was out working in the yard. I became aware of a steady stream of thoughts running in the background—narrating what I was doing, planning what I’d do next, critiquing something someone said.
Nothing loud or dramatic. Just chatter.
But instead of following it, I watched it.
And in watching, I remembered: I’m not the one talking. I’m the one who sees it.
That’s a moment of freedom. And it’s available to you right now.
🌀 Reflection:
Can you remember a moment today when your mind was narrating? What would it feel like to simply notice it next time—without fixing or following?
From Thought to Feeling: The Emotional Underlayer
After you begin to notice the voice in your head, something else reveals itself:
There’s a reason the voice is talking.
Something inside got stirred.
It might be a word, a memory, a subtle moment—
but inside, a wave of discomfort moved.
A tightening, a clenching, a shift in energy.
The voice didn’t cause the disturbance.
The disturbance came first—and the voice rushed in to manage it.
Michael Singer explains this clearly:
When life pokes a place inside you that hasn’t been fully felt, it sends energy upward.
The mind starts talking to handle the feeling.
It narrates, deflects, analyzes, or blames—because staying with the feeling feels too raw.
But here’s the invitation:
You don’t need to fix the feeling.
You don’t need to understand where it came from.
You don’t even need to “process” it.
You just need to stop resisting it.
Let the wave rise.
Let it be there.
Watch it without closing around it.
You may feel a tightening in the chest.
Heat in the face.
Butterflies in the stomach.
None of that is wrong.
It’s just energy that wants to move—
if you don’t block it, suppress it, or act on it.
The voice may keep talking.
That’s okay.
You don’t need the voice to stop.
You just need to stop grabbing it like it’s yours.
And when you stop resisting the feeling underneath,
the thoughts begin to lose their urgency.
I saw this in real time yesterday.
The family and I were walking our dog when another dog came around the corner—off leash.
It didn’t listen to its owner. It began circling us.
Instantly I felt it: fear, tension, annoyance that someone ignored the leash rule.
But something deeper kicked in.
I stayed present. Watched the reaction rise inside me—but didn’t grab it.
Calmly, I asked the owner to leash their dog. A moment later, the reaction was done.
But the real shift happened inside me—because I let the wave move through instead of closing around it.
🌀 Reflection:
Think of a recent moment where something stirred you emotionally. What would it have felt like to simply stay open and let it pass through? Not surpress, express, or distract.
There’s Always an Urge to React—But You Don’t Have to Follow It
Every disturbance has a current.
It rises in the body as emotion—
then pushes outward as an urge.
Say something.
Fix something.
Shut down.
Prove something.
Make it go away.
This is what we might call the pull—not Singer’s phrase, but a helpful name for what he describes:
That inner momentum. The drive to close, control, or act from discomfort.
It’s not just the feeling that’s uncomfortable.
It’s the belief that you must do something about it.
But here’s the moment that changes everything:
You see the pull—and you stay seated anyway.
But what does it mean to “stay seated”?
Michael Singer calls it the seat of awareness—the place inside you that watches without needing to control.
It’s not something you build. It’s not a technique.
It’s the stillness that’s always been there underneath the noise.
Every time you notice without reacting—every time you stay open instead of tightening—you return to it.
And that return is the freedom.
You let the energy rise
without letting it carry you away.
You don’t brace against it.
You don’t suppress it.
You just don’t act on it.
And in doing so, you break the pattern.
What used to run automatically now pauses in front of your awareness.
You didn’t control it.
You didn’t fix it.
You just didn’t follow it.
That’s freedom.
You’ll Get Pulled Back In—That’s Not Failure. That’s the Practice.
Even after you’ve tasted the peace of awareness—
You’ll still get caught again.
I do.
The other day, I got frustrated with the kids.
They were being rough with the dog.
I felt the energy rise and I got pulled right into it.
Just for a moment.
Then the practice kicked in.
I noticed.
I stepped back.
I watched the reaction that was still buzzing through me.
And from there, I could choose how to respond.
That’s the practice. Not perfection. But presence.
Keep practicing. Keep watching.
Every moment you remember—you’re already free again.
One Practice. One Moment. Over and Over.
Letting go isn’t a performance. It’s a return.
Not to a perfect state—
but to the part of you that sees without needing to control.
This isn’t something you master in a weekend.
It’s something you return to again and again.
A breath.
A noticing.
A willingness to stay open just one second longer than before.
That’s the practice.
And if you’re ready to live it—not just read about it—
start today by noticing. Watching what’s happening inside.
No pressure.
Just presence.
That’s how it starts.
Trevor
If this letter landed for you—
is there someone else who might need it too?
Not to teach them.
Just to walk with them.
Go ahead—send it. One shared breath of awareness might change everything.
