The Veils of Maya

Sep 30, 2020

When I set off on my run this morning, it was barely light. The blades of grass by the trail shimmered with dew. A thick mist had settled in the valley. The mist was beautiful and magical. But it also made things a little more uncertain. A little more dramatic.

As I jogged on, I began to think of mists of a different kind. The mists of the mind. Neuropsychologists call them Cognitive Distortions. Buddhists call them the Veils of Maya. The Buddhist view is that we experience reality through Maya - a mist of perceptions and stories that we tell ourselves.

Telling stories to ourselves comes naturally to humans. As the author Joan Didion wrote, "We tell stories in order to live." Our ancestors certainly did that, in their uncertain and mostly unknown world:

“There is something dark and solid near the shrub. It could be a coyote.”

“That thing on the ground looks like a snake. Don’t step on it.”

Even if ninety-nine times out of a hundred, it turned out to be just a tree stump (not a coyote) or just a coil of rope (not a snake), the one time that it was not, that story would have saved our ancestors.

We perceive most of reality *inside* our heads, as stories. The world is constructed for us meticulously, by our minds, scene by scene. This construction is influenced by various signals: data streaming in through our senses, our memories, our hormones, cultural lessons we have learned, our emotions and so on. The mental stories are meant to represent reality…except when they do not. Many times, they turn out to be false: false alarms and false interpretations.

We don’t always remember, however, that our stories are just stories, and can be false.

We react to them as though they are undeniable truths. Let me give you an example from my own life. A few years ago, when I had just started at Microsoft, I used to work with a guy whom we shall Jason. Jason was my then “archnemesis”. He was the proverbial pain in my neck. On many occasions, he would tear apart my work in code reviews and design reviews. He frequently came across as rude/mean. I would seethe and fume, or feel belittled and humiliated, after many interactions with him.

Jason is no longer with Microsoft. That has nothing to do with me or his own attitude. He just no longer works here. But my point is, I made up so many stories about why Jason did what he did (he thought I was an idiot), what was going to happen to me because of him (I’d surely get fired thanks to his public evisceration of me), and what kind of a person Jason was (he was pure evil). I never actually spoke to him outright about any of this. Perhaps Jason did need some coaching and help in how he treated people. As for me, I just made up stories in my head – convenient and habitual as such self-storytelling was.

In the two years Jason and I worked together, these stories caused me a lot of pain. Were they true? With the benefit of hindsight, I don’t think so. Did they help me? Maybe a smidgen. I likely became more thorough thanks to the endless revising and cross-checking I did to avoid Jason's criticisms.

Overall, these stories hurt my mental health more than they helped my growth.


I was made to believe that things were more disastrous than they were, more personal than they were, more permanent than they were, and more pervasive than they were. My primordial danger-alert system that had evolved to pick up minute signals of potential threats (Snake! Coyote!) misfired and overreacted, creating more false alarms than actual signals.

To keep my stories from directing me, to lift the veils of Maya in my mind, I had to put in a ton of actual work. This work has included everything from working with a coach, to routine journaling, to practicing mindfulness. To live peacefully and positively, you – like me - may need to step out of your stories and get a better grip on reality.

You can do so with mindfulness.





We tell ourselves stories that can cause pain, like the instance with Jason above, but also ones that can cause joy. We can delude ourselves about love, admiration, passion, and so on. In mindfulness, there is a four-step process to stop these stories from ruling over you. It is memorably called RAIN. When you're in the midst of intense emotions, simply sit down somewhere quiet and close your eyes - or write in your journal - while following these steps.

1. Recognize: First, recognize you are playing a story in your head. This story may or may not be factual. In the case of Jason from my earlier experience, my first step would be interrupt my seething and fuming, and recognize that I am in the middle of an elaborate self-made movie.

2. Allow: Then, I should allow the story and the emotions it creates to exist in my head. That may sound counter-intuitive, but have you ever tried to banish the thought of a big, fluffy panda bear by trying to forget about a big, fluffy panda bear? It’s the same logic. I cannot deal with the story effectively by trying to forget about it. I should just observe my fears, my humiliations, and the helplessness in my head with some cognitive distance.

3. Investigate: Now I should look at the story from all angles. Hold it up to some mental light. Separate what appears to be facts from what appears to be layers of emotions surrounding the facts. Be curious about the shape of that story, and why it is thus. What caused me to come to the conclusions I came to about Jason? Can there be an alternate interpretation, no relation to me or my abilities? Can Jason just be pointing out the facts, in his own way?

4. Non-Identify: I know, non-identify is not an ACTUAL word. But the essence of this step is detaching from your mental stories. I.e., in this case, I stop identifying myself with what I think Jason’s behavior means about me. I should stop identifying reality with the story in my head about it.

While this is all nicely packaged as a memorable acronym, you really don't have to obsess over the detail of each of these steps. The key is simply to stop, observe, and detach from your emotions and stories. Do I get it right all time? Definitely not. But I continue to practice and see progress.

Maya in Sanskrit means magic as well as illusions. Stories can indeed be magical. Cognitive illusions – false as they may be - evolved for a good reason. Mindfulness lets you separate the harmful illusions from the inspiring ones. It helps you become the master of your stories and keep your stories from becoming the master of you.

If you want to learn more on the topic of mindfulness, here are some resources.