Doubt: The Quiet Hindrance That Never Announces Itself
- Vita Pires, Ph.D.
- 12 hours ago
- 3 min read
Doubt is the only hindrance that doesn't announce itself with a roar; it arrives as a whisper, usually disguised as your own good intentions.

(The final post in this series on the hindrances)
If you’ve stayed with this series, you’ve probably noticed a theme by now: the hindrances don’t usually show up in dramatic ways. They slip in quietly. They blend into our good intentions. And doubt might be the quietest of all.
Doubt doesn’t usually sound like “I don’t believe in mindfulness.” It sounds more like, Is this actually helping anyone? Or am I really qualified to be doing this? Or maybe there’s something else people need that I’m not giving them? It can show up as second-guessing, over-preparing, clinging to scripts, or constantly looking outside ourselves for confirmation that we’re doing it right.
I recall a period when I was teaching regularly, and on the surface, everything seemed fine. People were engaged. The classes were full. And yet, after almost every session, I found myself replaying moments in my head and wondering if I’d said the wrong thing. Wondering if I’d missed something important. Wondering if the practice was actually enough for the level of suffering people were bringing into the room.
That’s doubt.
How Doubt Manifests for Teachers and Students
Students experience it too, often without naming it. They ask questions that circle the same concern from different angles. They compare themselves to others. They say things like, “I don’t know if this is working for me,” or “I think I’m doing it wrong.” Sometimes doubt shows up as an intellectual debate. Sometimes, there is disengagement. Sometimes, it was a quiet discouragement.
The tricky thing about doubt is that it can masquerade as wisdom. It can sound thoughtful, discerning, even responsible. And sometimes it is. Not all doubt is a hindrance. There’s a kind of questioning that keeps the practice honest, grounded, and alive. But hindering doubt has a particular flavor. It contracts. It undermines confidence. It keeps us from resting in our own experience.
When students are caught in doubt, our instinct may be to reassure them. To explain more. To convince them that mindfulness works. Sometimes reassurance helps, but often it just feeds the cycle. Doubt doesn’t resolve through certainty. It softens through trust — not blind trust, but trust built from direct experience.
Moving from Abstract Evaluation to Direct Experience
One of the most helpful things we can do is redirect attention away from abstract evaluation and back toward what’s actually happening. Instead of answering the question “Is this working?” we help students explore “What are you noticing right now?” We move from conclusions back to contact from thinking about the practice to being in the practice.
As teachers, working through our own doubts requires a similar approach. There are moments when teaching feels deeply aligned and moments when it doesn’t. There are times when mindfulness feels clearly beneficial, and there are times when it feels painfully limited. Doubt often arises at the edge of care — when we actually give a damn.
What’s essential is not eliminating doubt, but not letting it quietly run the show. When doubt is unseen, it can make us rigid or overly deferential. It can pull us away from our embodied knowing and into constant comparison. When it’s seen clearly, it becomes less personal and less convincing.
Over time, confidence as a mindfulness teacher doesn’t come from having fewer questions. It comes from staying in a relationship with the practice itself. From returning, again and again, to our own experience. From remembering that we’re not here to save anyone, fix anyone, or guarantee outcomes. We’re here to practice in public, with integrity and humility.
Normalizing the Path: The Five Hindrances in Teaching
This series has been about the hindrances, but more than that, it’s been about normalizing what it actually feels like to teach mindfulness. The wanting. The resistance. The fatigue. The agitation. The uncertainty. None of these disqualifies us. They’re part of the terrain.
The hindrances don’t mean we’re off the path. They’re how the path shows itself — especially when we’re practicing not just for ourselves, but alongside others.
And that, in many ways, is where the real work lives.
This is part 6 of a 6-part series on the hindrances. Look back through the other Hinderances on the EMI blog.
If you are interested in gaining a more comprehensive understanding of meditation, mindfulness, and how to share these practices with others, consider our Mindfulness Teacher Training (MTT).
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