Before becoming a mindfulness teacher, yoga instructor, and author, Oneika Mays was a bookseller and spent nearly two decades in the industry. He was practicing awareness, but not yet relying.
When a personal tragedy struck, something changed for Mays. She became a certified yoga and mindfulness teacher and became interested in how she could offer these practices to marginalized communities who did not have access to, or did not feel welcome in, traditional wellness spaces. After volunteering at Rikers Island Correctional Institution, he became the first full-time mindfulness coach employed there. He moved on from this position in 2023, but remains the consummate champion of making exercise accessible to all.
In March, Mays appeared sit with mea memoir and guide to mindfulness that strips away the pretense for something more immediate and experienced. Tricycle Contributor Alex Tzelnic spoke with Mays about accessibility, mettaand what it really means to practice amidst the everyday richness of our lives.
The subtitle of your book promises “a no BS journey to mindfulness”. What’s the biggest piece of BS around mindfulness culture that you’d like to push back against? There is a lot of dogma that makes people feel like they need years of experience before they are “allowed” to practice mindfulness. Or they need a fully developed routine before they start.
We tend to over-intellectualize mindfulness, especially as it relates to Buddhism. There is often so much theory before people start practicing. This can be very intimidating for people.
When I was learning meditation, I noticed that there was a lot of discussion before we actually did the practice. As a teacher, I want to take these concepts and make them tangible and practical. That’s what I mean by “no BS”.
So how do you make mindfulness real and accessible to people? It starts small. There is this idea that exercise should be generous or structured – like sitting for forty-five minutes a day. I don’t think this is necessary for most people. If you’re a busy parent and your only waking moment is washing your hands while the kids bang on the door, that’s enough.
We also have to be realistic about where people are. Sometimes I don’t even feel like sitting because there is so much going on in the world. So how do we meet people where they are?
And there is also accessibility. Not everyone can sit up straight or stay still. I was diagnosed with ADHD as an adult. I’m nervous. So how can I work with my body and achieve inner silence?
This is the question I always try to answer when I teach.
So is it more about the intention than the activity itself? Exactly. This is the approach. Walking and listening to a podcast is not walking meditation. Walking meditation is intentional. Meditation is a training of the mind.
So we have to admit what we are doing. When people start to take ownership—for example, “I practiced mindfulness for twenty seconds while washing my hands”—it develops over time.
I saw this a lot when I taught at Rikers Island. It will not happen to find a quiet place there. So how do you work through the circumstances and recognize that you are practicing in that moment? That’s where the shift begins.
Did working at Rikers Island reinforce ideas like suffering, metta, and liberation? It immediately put a spotlight on my own stuff. I volunteered there for about six years and then worked there full time for almost five years. These were two very different experiences. As a volunteer, I learned a lot about suffering and a lot about myself.
And this is a bit embarrassing to admit, but I had a savior mindset. I found yoga and meditation and they changed my life and I was one of those people who thought everyone should do it. I was unbearable. You can ask my friends and family.
But then I went inside and realized that it wasn’t about that. I read an essay called “Help, repair or service?” by Rachel Naomi Remen and it completely changed the way I saw work. He talks about how helping comes from seeing people as broken, while service comes from seeing people as whole. That really woke me up.
There was one moment that stayed with me. I was in a unit with someone who allegedly did something that most people would consider horrible. And I felt my body tense up when I heard that. Later, in an hour, I saw his humanity in such a way that I could not ignore it. And I felt ashamed. Here I was, thinking I wasn’t judging people, and suddenly I was under judgment.
I realized that if I believe in unconditional love, it must include everyone. What else am I doing?
That moment changed something in me. He realized that people were more than what they did. But I had to face my own discomfort and my own judgment to get there.
When I started working there full time, things got more intense. There were people I didn’t like. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t love them.
You write that metta helps to hold more truth without flattening people into good or bad. How did this shape conflict orientation? Rikers was good for that. People want to label others – this person is a murderer, this person did this or that. But when you sit with someone, it’s a person. They have hopes and fears. And I don’t know that I wouldn’t do the same under certain circumstances.
Metta helps keep this complexity. Right now I feel happy about what is happening with my book and at the same time I feel overwhelmed by what is happening in the world. Both are true.
There are also moments when I feel guilty that I’m still not doing the work I do at Rikers because it’s a very direct way to contribute. This is another truth I hold.
Metta allows me to ask: What is the one thing I can do right now to do a little less damage?
I used to be very attached to the things I fought against – racism, homophobia. It became part of my identity. And when I started to release that attachment, I realized that I was afraid of who I would be without him. Metta gave me space. It helped me to gently invite instead of constantly clinging to what I was fighting against.
He also describes working in the system and dealing with people who have caused harm. How do you respond to those who struggle with this? I’ve heard this question a lot – how do you work with people who have done terrible things? My answer is usually this: How do you know your neighbor hasn’t done something terrible and just not been caught?
We all do things we’re not proud of. Some people just get caught. Some people live in over-policed environments. It’s part of reality. But beyond that, when I say I believe in unconditional love, it must include everyone. Otherwise I shouldn’t be doing this job.
I think we are quick to label people as good or bad, but it is often rooted in how we judge ourselves. If we can sit with the parts of ourselves that we are ashamed of and hold them with some tenderness, we create more space to see the humanity in others.
You distinguish between enlightenment and liberation. Why was this important to you? I saw a lot of love and light from the spiritual world and the world of yoga. Yet enlightenment is spoken of as what you want to achieve, and it focuses on the individual. What can I do to get to that place instead of how to be free?
If we are truly in a relationship, then my freedom is tied to yours. It will be less about me and more about us.
If we are truly in a relationship, then my freedom is tied to yours. It will be less about me and more about us. And if I get free, it’s my responsibility to make sure you have what you need to get free.
Your teaching style seems very grounded and human. How can this be reconciled with more traditional or rigid Buddhist spaces? That’s why I call myself “Buddhi”. Because these spaces often felt moving to me. These practices have helped me love myself, accept my life, and feel comfortable being a child again, as well as appreciating wisdom. So I teach to reflect that. I’m not trying to sound like a scientist; I try to be real.
I still feel insecure sometimes in more academic settings. I may not be everyone’s teacher, but my practice made that okay. It’s the only way I know how to teach, and I’ve learned to trust it.
As a black queer woman entering spaces that are often overwhelmingly white, how do you think those spaces should evolve? We must allow people to teach us from who they are. The idea that teachers should not be “political” is often expressed. But what does that mean? My identity is politicized the moment I quit. What you call political, I just call Tuesday in the black body.
If we are really talking about the idea that we are all one, then my experiences matter to you. You may not relate to them, but you have to acknowledge them. This is where we can really appreciate what these exercises are for.
That’s when I really felt strength Rod Owens is a llama he talked about how mindfulness should help us tell the truth about who we are. Awareness should help us move toward justice and liberation, not away from it.
You’ve said that the book isn’t about giving answers, but about helping people ask better questions. What questions will readers begin to ask? I want people to ask themselves: Why do I think the way I do about certain things? Do I love myself completely? Do I love others? What prevents you from doing this?
If questions arise after an exercise, can you answer them? What are you going to do about it? Because something has to be done. We can’t just think and think and think. It’s as if the bells are telling us that love is an action word and we need to do something.
