I’ve recently been reading Ken McLeod’s book ‘Wake up to Your Life’ and Pema Chödrön’s ‘How We Live is How We Die’ and ‘Taking the Leap’ (both are highly respected Buddhist teachers) and although they don’t explicitly mention anything about IFS, I was struck by the overlap between what they describe as inherited and learned patterns of behaviour or responding to life events – karmic propensities and what IFS would call ‘parts.’ You don’t have to subscribe to the Buddhist notion of karma, and I suspect many readers won’t, so instead think of karma as cause and effect, psychological reinforcement and social reciprocity. Karma as the natural, logical consequences of actions – how our thoughts, feelings and behaviour shape our character, affect relationships in the present and influence the future.
When people first encounter Internal Family Systems (IFS), they often feel a sense of recognition – Oh, that’s what’s been happening inside me. The idea that we are made up of many “parts,” each with its own history and emotional logic, feels strangely familiar. It’s as if someone has finally given language to an inner experience we’ve always sensed but never quite articulated.
A similar recognition happens when people read how Pema Chödrön describes shenpa – those painful attachments and compulsions and that tightening, sticky feeling that pulls us into those old habits before we even know what’s happening. Or when Ken McLeod talks about karmic propensities – patterns of perception and reaction that arise automatically, shaped by past experience. These teachings don’t feel abstract. They feel intimate, like someone is describing the machinery of our own mind.
What’s striking is how these two worlds – one psychological, one contemplative – seem to be describing the same terrain. They use different metaphors, but the landscape is unmistakably similar.
The Inner Cast of Characters
In IFS, the mind is not a single, unified entity but a community of parts. Some parts carry pain from the past – exiles who were overwhelmed and pushed out of sight. Other parts work tirelessly to keep that pain contained. They manage, distract, numb, control, or attack. They do whatever they must to prevent the system from being flooded again.
When clients begin to explore these parts, they often say, “It feels like this reaction has been running me for years.” And that’s exactly how Ken McLeod describes karmic propensities: patterns that run on their own, like programs that activate without our consent. Pema Chödrön’s shenpa is the moment we get hooked, the instant a pattern grabs the steering wheel.
In both frameworks, these patterns are not signs of pathology. They are the residue of experience – especially painful experience – trying to protect us.
The Moment of Turning Toward
One of the most transformative moments in therapy is when a client realises they don’t have to fight their reactions. They can turn toward them.
IFS calls this turning toward from the perspective of the Self – a calm, compassionate presence that isn’t fused with any particular part. In Buddhist practice, this is the moment of awareness, the gap before reactivity takes over. Pema Chödrön describes it as the space where we can soften instead of tightening.
In trauma work, this shift is profound. Trauma teaches the body to brace, to anticipate danger, to shut down or explode. But when a client meets a terrified part with curiosity instead of fear, something changes. The part begins to reveal its story. The protector begins to relax. The system begins to reorganise.
This is exactly what Buddhist teachers mean when they say that karmic propensities dissolve in the light of awareness. Not because we suppress them, but because we finally see them clearly.
Trauma as a Pattern, Not an Identity
Trauma often convinces people that something is fundamentally wrong with them. They feel broken, defective, or permanently damaged. But both IFS and Buddhist psychology offer a radically different view.
In IFS, trauma is understood as a burden carried by parts – not the essence of who we are. The Self is never damaged. It remains whole, even when parts are overwhelmed.
In Buddhist thought, trauma is a form of conditioning. It shapes how we perceive the world, how we react, how we protect ourselves. But it is not who we are. It is a pattern, not an identity.
This reframing is not just comforting – it’s liberating. It opens the possibility that healing is not about becoming someone new, but about returning to who we already are beneath the layers of protection.
The Dance of Protectors and Pain
In therapy, protectors often show up first. They are vigilant, sceptical, sometimes aggressive. They’ve been doing their job for a long time, and they don’t trust easily. But when approached with respect – when a therapist or client says, “I see why you’re here, and I appreciate what you’ve been trying to do” – something softens.
This is where the Buddhist perspective adds a beautiful dimension. Instead of seeing reactive patterns as enemies, teachers like Pema Chödrön encourage us to see them as misguided attempts to keep us safe. They are not obstacles to awakening; they are invitations to understand ourselves more deeply.
When protectors feel understood, they often step back. And when they do, the exiles – the young, wounded parts – finally have space to speak. Their stories are often heart-breaking, but they are also the key to transformation. Once these parts are witnessed and unburdened, the entire system reorganises around a new sense of safety.
This mirrors the Buddhist idea that when we stop feeding karmic propensities with fear or avoidance, they lose their momentum. They unwind. They release.
A Path Toward Wholeness
What emerges from the integration of IFS and Buddhist teachings is a deeply compassionate approach to trauma. It honours the complexity of the mind without pathologizing it. It recognises the wisdom in our defences and it trusts that beneath all the patterns and parts, there is a core of clarity and goodness that can guide the healing process.
In practice, this means:
- noticing when a pattern is arising
- stepping back into awareness or Self
- turning toward the part or propensity with compassion
- listening to what it needs
- helping it release the burdens it carries
This is not a quick process, it is a gentle, patient unfolding and it leads somewhere real. You begin to feel less controlled by their reactions. You experience more spaciousness, more choice, more connection and you begin to trust yourself again.
And perhaps most importantly, you discover that healing is not about erasing the past. It’s about transforming your relationship to it. The patterns that once your life them become teachers. The parts that once terrified you become allies. The pain that once defined you becomes a doorway to deeper freedom.
