In Mahamudra practice, difficulties are not regarded as failures but as natural phases in learning to rest in the mind’s nature. One of the most pervasive challenges is the swing between distraction and dullness: the mind either chases thoughts and plans or sinks into fogginess and lethargy. Traditional remedies emphasize balance: short, frequent sessions; a stable yet relaxed posture; and the use of simple supports such as the breath or a visual object to gather attention. When heaviness or sleepiness arises, the body is straightened, the gaze slightly opened, and the emphasis shifted toward brightness and clarity. Conversely, when restlessness predominates, the breath can be used as an anchor, and calming activities or loving‑kindness practice can help settle the agitation. In both cases, the key is gentle persistence rather than force, returning again and again to present awareness without judgment.

A subtler set of obstacles appears once some stability is gained: over‑relaxation, spaced‑out states, and attachment to particular experiences. It is common to mistake a pleasant blankness or the temporary absence of thought for realization, or to cling to episodes of bliss, clarity, or spaciousness. Mahamudra instructions repeatedly point back to the “knowing” quality itself, emphasizing that genuine practice must be vividly aware, not merely empty of content. All experiences—pleasant or painful, coarse or refined—are to be seen as passing displays within awareness, not as trophies to be collected or enemies to be suppressed. Recognizing their impermanence and illusory character undercuts both grasping and aversion, allowing experiences to self‑liberate without interference.

Another recurring difficulty is conceptual proliferation and subtle grasping at a meditator, a meditation, and an object, often accompanied by doubt and goal‑orientation. The mind tries to understand Mahamudra purely intellectually, or strives anxiously for special states, comparing progress with others and turning the path into a project of spiritual self‑improvement. The traditional response is twofold: study and reflection clarify the view, while in meditation there is a deliberate shift from commentary to direct experience—“looking without seeking,” then resting when insight arises. Questioning thoughts about “I am meditating” or “I am progressing” reveals their lack of solid owner, loosening the sense of a separate agent. Over time, this fosters a more goalless, non‑manipulative awareness that trusts the mind’s innate clarity rather than trying to manufacture it.

Emotional turbulence and karmic patterns often intensify as practice deepens, bringing old wounds, strong reactions, and psychological material to the surface. Rather than treating this as an interruption, Mahamudra regards such upheavals as part of the path, to be met with compassion and discernment. Practices like loving‑kindness and tonglen provide a container, allowing emotions to be felt fully as energetic patterns in awareness without acting them out or pushing them away. Support from teachers and community is considered essential here, both to distinguish genuine insight from confusion and to maintain a wholesome motivation rooted in bodhicitta. Finally, the challenge of inconsistency and lack of integration is addressed by regular daily practice, however brief, and by bringing short “mini‑sessions” of recognition into ordinary activities, so that the same awareness discovered on the cushion gradually permeates the whole of life.