What is the Welcoming Practice?

I’ve recently integrated “the welcoming practice” into my spiritual life, and want to share my experience with it. Like many practices from within the Christian contemplative tradition, it is heavily influenced by Buddhist practice and thinking, but was developed more fully by a lady named Mary Mrozowski in the 80s. Mary was part of the revival of contemplative practice associated with Fr. Thomas Keating, and was part of the very first Centering Prayer retreat in 1983. Sometimes I question my practice of things like this, since it can feel like they are just literally Buddhist practices re-packaged by white Americans (insert “cultural appropriation”), but the more I have learned about the roots of Christian contemplative practices, the more I see how far they actually reach back - all the way to Jesus and beyond. For example, the practice of Lectio Divina has its roots in ancient Jewish mysticism. All of these practices and ways of thinking come from the ancient eastern part of the world. So while Mary may have slapped some new language onto this practice, I’ve begun to see that it is still as deeply Christian as it is Buddhist. 

So here is the practice: you acknowledge what is going on internally during a distressing physical or emotional situation, welcome it, and then let it go. I laughed when I typed out the word “let it go” because wouldn’t it be great if it were just that easy? Of course it is not just that simple, but I have been really surprised by what this practice has produced in my own life. 

I begin this practice by simply noticing what is going on in my body - any tension, aches, fast heart rate, fear, anger, grief, being careful not to analyze, but simply notice. Then I begin to say softly, “welcome, anger.” Or “welcome, fear.” This is the bulk of the practice and it feels so counterintuitive and initially, terrifying. The important point here is that, as Cynthia Bourgeault points out, “what you are welcoming is never an outer situation, only the feelings and sensations working within you at the moment.” For instance I never say “welcome oppression” or “welcome abuse”, since those are external forces and not my response to them. 

It is hard to describe my experience with this practice. My impulse with difficult emotions like this is to run from them. I am a very good runner, and can run for a long time. But I have noticed after many years that this only makes my difficult emotions more intense. It is like walking away from a wall that my shadow is cast on - the further I walk from the wall, the larger my shadow gets. But the Welcoming Practice embodies a whole new stance. Instead of turning away, I turn towards. And just as my shadow grows when I walk away, it gets smaller as I turn and move towards it. The only other way I can think to put this in words is that when I say “welcome”, I am signaling to my body and to my fear that we have a new relationship. I am the host, and the fear is my guest. And while I work hard to care for my guests and make a comfortable place for them, I do not let them run through my whole house, destroying it. As the host, I have the power to welcome in and to cast out. So when I say “welcome”, I am coordinating a new kind of relationship with my emotions. They cease to feel like a giant dark cloud enveloping, and they become a guest in my home. Thich Nhat Han had his own way of doing this, which I really love as well. He writes about how fear always rests at the depths of our consciousness, but if we never invite it up for air, it begins to make demands and grow bigger. So he liked to say to his fear daily, “My dear fear, come up here so I can embrace you for a while.” 

Finally, the last step of the welcoming practice is to let these difficult emotions go, which I try to do with varying success. Importantly, this step is not a blanket vow to never be angry again, only a release of anger in the present moment. Mary Mrozowski actually created a litany for this step, and I really struggled with it at first. It goes like this:

I let go my desire for security and survival.

I let go my desire for esteem and affection.

I let go my desire for power and control.

I let go my desire to change the situation. 

At first, it felt like saying this litany was counter to my actual values, so I refused. But over time, I began to see the difference between these things and my attachment to these things. And the act of letting go of my attachment to security is not the same as letting go of actual security. And counterintuitively, I actually feel more secure after saying this litany. I’ve grown to value it and see it as more of a reflection of my stance - am I holding onto these things with white knuckles, or am I holding them in an open palm? To my surprise, the more I have practiced the whole welcoming prayer, the more I have noticed my capacity growing, and I have been able to welcome more. Instead of just “welcome fear, anger, grief, pain, etc”, I am noticing my capacity to also welcome love, joy, those birds in the lilac bush out front, and the salt smell of the sea just a few miles from my house. 

Life is hard, and there is no easy fix. The welcoming practice doesn’t always help, but I am grateful for the gift of it, and the precious moments of presence it offers me. I hope it helps you a little too.