Exercises


Human beings move through countless psychological states in a single day—joy, focus, distraction, anxiety, relaxation. Some of these states exist only in isolation, while others have the power to cut across boundaries and remain present no matter what else is happening. A cross-cutting state is one that can coexist with other states, threading through them instead of displacing them. In this way, a cross-cutting state interacts with the features of other states rather than standing apart from them.

This idea is easier to see through examples. Imagine being at a series of gatherings: at Alice’s house, Bob’s house, and Carl’s house. At each one, you hear music, but the playlists differ.

MozartMadonnaMetallica
AliceAlice / MozartAlice / MadonnaAlice / Metallica
BobBob / MozartXBob / Metallica
CarlCarl / MozartCarl / MadonnaX

Certain songs or musicians are heard in one house but not another, while others appear in more than one place. Some forms of music—like Mozart—follow you everywhere in this example. In the same way, certain exercises or practices appear across multiple psychological contexts. These are what we might call cross-cutting exercises. They provide continuity across the shifting landscapes of our mental lives.

Before exploring specific examples like music and meditation, it helps to be precise about what we mean by an exercise. An exercise is a recurring practice or activity that reappears across states. Sometimes exercises reflect universals—such as music drawing on the principles of music theory or meditation drawing on principles of attention. But their real power is not abstract or theoretical. The essence of an exercise is experiential: it evokes emotion, calls up connections with past experiences, and gives us a thread of continuity across otherwise distinct states.

Think of how physical exercise works. When you strengthen a muscle in the gym, you benefit not only in that room but in every context of daily life—carrying groceries, climbing stairs, or keeping good posture while working at a desk. Similarly, a psychological exercise strengthens the mind across multiple contexts. It travels with you, quietly shaping how you feel and act even in situations far removed from the moment of practice.

Music provides a vivid example. Return to the scenario of Alice, Bob, and Carl’s parties. At each home, you encounter Mozart. At Alice’s and Carl’s homes, Madonna is also playing. At Alice’s and Bob’s homes, Metallica is present. Each musician overlaps with certain contexts but not others. Madonna and Metallica are “cross-cutting” in a limited sense—they connect some situations together. But Mozart is the most cross-cutting, since his music threads through all the contexts.

This shows how music itself can be a cross-cutting exercise. Imagine hearing Mozart at those parties, and then later encountering his music at a wedding, in the soundtrack of a film, or playing softly while you read at home. The continuity is not just intellectual—it is emotional. The same tones and rhythms weave through different situations, linking them in memory and feeling. Each time you hear the music, you recall other times you’ve heard it, and the emotions are renewed and connected. Music thus becomes an anchor across multiple states of mind.

Meditation as a Cross-Cutting Exercise

If music illustrates how an external practice can cross contexts, meditation shows how an internal one can do the same. Among the many techniques of meditation, the most fundamental is attention to the breath. Why the breath? Because it is present in every state we have. Whether we are joyful, anxious, bored, or focused, we are breathing. That simple fact makes the breath an anchor linking states together.

Yet the breath is not merely a universal backdrop. It carries specific qualities. Breathing consciously often brings calm, slowing the heart rate and reducing tension. It also involves focus, since following the rhythm of inhaling and exhaling requires attention. Moreover, meditation cultivates metacognitive skills—the ability to observe one’s own mental processes. Therefore, meditation works at the metanarrative level. When thoughts arise, the exercise is to notice them and let them go, returning to the breath. This practice, repeated in many contexts, creates a cross-cutting thread of awareness.

Other meditative practices share this potential but in different ways. Walking meditation is also cross-cutting, but it depends on conditions—one needs the ability and space to walk. Mantras, too, can serve as anchors, but they rely on words and cultural meaning, which may or may not resonate universally. By contrast, breath is present across all situations, which is why it remains the strongest anchor.

Consider a simple story. Imagine being in a stressful meeting, surrounded by deadlines and tense conversation. Anxiety might surge, but the skill learned in meditation travels with you. Returning to the breath, even for a few cycles, brings calm into the room. What was once a solitary practice on a cushion now threads through an entirely different state. This is the essence of a cross-cutting exercise.

Narrative vs. Ritual Approaches

So far we have considered ritual exercises like music and meditation—practices that rely on repeating the same emotional or cognitive processes in different contexts. With Mozart, the ritual lies in structured listening and the particular emotions the music evokes. With meditation, it lies in letting go of thoughts and returning to the breath. These exercises are ritual because they anchor us through constancy: the same emotional experience repeats across multiple states. This constancy “marks” our relaxation experiences, clearly separating them from our work experiences.

But there is another way to achieve cross-cutting: through narrative exercises, such as therapy. Narrative does not work by repetition but by integration. It takes words, memories, and feelings from different contexts and weaves them into a unified account. In therapy, for instance, a person might connect the stress of a current job, the lessons of family history, and the challenges of personal growth into a single story. The act of weaving gives coherence, allowing one state to be understood in light of another.

The key distinction, then, is this:

  • Ritual anchors through constancy, repeating the same process (breathing, listening, chanting).
  • Narrative anchors through integration, creating meaning by linking different experiences into one story.

Both approaches cut across psychological states, but they do so by different routes.

Implications and Applications

Understanding cross-cutting states and exercises opens possibilities in personal, clinical, cultural, and everyday life.

  • Personal practice: One can deliberately choose an anchor—music, the breath, or a personal story—that carries across multiple states, providing stability and continuity.
  • Clinical and therapeutic contexts: Recognizing whether ritual or narrative cross-cutting is more helpful allows therapists to tailor approaches. A client overwhelmed by chaotic thoughts might benefit from ritual anchors like breath, while another seeking meaning from fragmented experiences might need narrative integration.
  • Cultural and religious traditions: Rituals such as chanting, prayer, or seasonal music act as anchors across generations and communities, linking individuals’ sacred moments with shared states of devotion and memory.
  • Everyday life: Carrying a song in your mind, returning to your breath in stressful moments, or remembering the thread of your own life story can provide psychological stability, even in turbulent circumstances.

Cross-cutting exercises, whether ritual or narrative, remind us that our psychological states are not isolated islands. They are threaded together by practices and stories that move with us, giving coherence to the changing landscapes of our minds.