In modern life, amidst the busyness and distractions that surround us, the idea of refuge holds significant meaning—particularly in Buddha’s teachings. Refuge is not simply about seeking shelter in a physical sense but, more profoundly, about finding a safe place for the mind and heart in moments of turbulence. This concept, while often discussed in spiritual circles, calls for deeper personal reflection to understand its true value. For me, I needed to explore this concept of refuge as it relates to my own life, the need for refuge in the face of everyday struggles, and the practice of mindful reflection to identify where refuge truly lies.

The Need for Refuge

In a world that is full of distractions, it is easy to feel unsettled, even when things appear to be going well on the surface. I work from home, am happily married, and have two young children, which brings both joy and challenge. While I am generally content with my life—my job is stable, I have a home, and my family is healthy—there are moments when I experience the subtle but persistent discomfort of life’s daily grind. It was during a period of reflection that I began to ask myself, "What do I truly take refuge in?" In other words, where do I go when life's storms seem overwhelming or my mind is restless?

This question arose during a time when I was reflecting on how life often feels like a series of transitions and small challenges. Whether it was coping with the pressures of work, managing responsibilities at home, or simply trying to stay present, I found myself looking for answers. In times of crisis, like when Hurricane Irma struck in 2017 and forced my family to evacuate, the need for physical refuge was clear. We sought shelter in a safe place, away from the storm's destruction. But in the everyday moments—when life felt less dramatic but still demanding—where was I seeking refuge?

Going Beyond the External

Reflecting on refuge, I realized that it is not just about escaping physical danger. Refuge is about finding a source of stability, safety, and peace when the turbulence of life threatens to overwhelm us. Often, I had noticed that I was relying on external things—like food, entertainment, or digital distractions—as a form of temporary refuge. A quick fix to "feel better" or "escape" my current state. This echoed the familiar messaging I encountered in advertisements, where companies promised that their products would make me feel whole. A Snickers bar, a Pepsi, or the latest gadget was often marketed as the answer to life's discomforts. But time and again, I found that these fleeting solutions did not provide lasting peace. They were momentary distractions, not true refuges.

Taking refuge, in a deeper sense, must come from within. It requires a level of introspection to understand what truly brings peace to the mind and body. Instead of relying on outside influences, I decided to explore what internal refuges I might cultivate through mindful reflection. To better understand where I could go when life felt stormy, I began by asking myself a fundamental question: Why do I need refuge? What are the internal storms I am trying to navigate?

The Practice of Reflection

This question led me to explore the nature of my own life and the subtle discomforts that often go unnoticed. To reflect in a meaningful way, I realized I needed a methodical approach—one that would not allow me to simply ruminate on the past or exaggerate the problems in my present situation. Mindfulness, I found, provided the perfect tool. Rather than passively letting my thoughts run rampant, I began to engage with my day through a structured reflection on three main aspects: the body, speech, and mind.

Reflection on the Body

By observing my body's sensations and movements throughout the day, I began to see the many small sources of tension that I had overlooked. Sitting for long hours at my desk, for example, created discomfort in my posture. Throughout the day, I would also notice feelings of thirst or tightness in my muscles, but I often ignored these physical signals. This neglect contributed to an underlying sense of unease, even when I wasn’t consciously aware of it. Taking refuge in my body, then, meant paying attention to these subtle cues and practicing self-care—whether through hydration, stretching, or simply sitting in a more relaxed position.

Reflection on Speech

Next, I turned my attention to the quality of my speech—both what I said to others and what I said to myself. At work, where most of my interactions were digital and text-based, I noticed that I was often preoccupied with how I would be perceived. Would I sound intelligent? Would I make a mistake? This constant self-monitoring created an undercurrent of stress and tension in my interactions, even if the words themselves were neutral. I realized that my speech, like my body, had been unconsciously driven by a desire to avoid discomfort, rather than to connect authentically with others.

Additionally, the content I consumed, particularly the endless stream of digital communication—social media posts, news articles, and emails—also affected my internal state. While these interactions were often neutral, they nonetheless contributed to a sense of constant agitation and distraction, preventing me from being fully present in my relationships and experiences.

Reflection on the Mind

Lastly, I considered the constant chatter of the mind. The stories we tell ourselves—the narratives of who we are, what we should do, and what is wrong in our lives—often shape our experiences. I noticed how easily I could slip into negative thought patterns or judgments about myself and others. These internal narratives, while sometimes valid, were often based on assumptions and not the full reality of the situation. When I was able to step back and observe my thoughts without identifying with them, I found that many of them were neutral or even irrelevant. The real challenge was not necessarily the thoughts themselves but how I responded to them.

Refuge is Connection

Through this practice of mindful reflection, I began to see that true refuge is not found in the avoidance of discomfort or in external distractions. Instead, refuge lies in the ability to stay present, to connect with the body, speech, and mind without judgment or attachment. This connection creates space for peace, even amidst life's challenges. And I discovered the more I was able to recognize and rest in this space, the more I was able to connect deeply with the beauty and joys of life. Slowly there was a shift from a tight, busy, self-centered perspective, to a perspective that was more open, flexible, and in touch with and connected with the other people in my life, and the world itself.

The Practice of Refuge

The practice of refuge is not a one-time act, but an ongoing process of awareness and connection. By reflecting on my body's sensations, the quality of my speech, and the patterns of my mind, I have started to understand that refuge is something we can cultivate within ourselves, no matter the circumstances of our lives. It requires practice, patience, and the willingness to be present with ourselves, even when things feel difficult. As I continue on this path, I realize that refuge is not an escape from the world, but a way to engage with it more mindfully, with greater ease and compassion.