Decolonising Psychology Through Buddhist Wisdom: How Do I Know There's More? (Part 1)

After 17 years of being a psychologist, it's drilled into me: practice under the scientist-practitioner model. Use evidence-based approaches. Stay close to the research.

But here's what they don't tell you.

As a first-generation immigrant, Asian, woman of color, Buddhist, neurodivergent—I don't fit the mainstream narrative of white, middle-class, blonde psychologists. And for years, I tried so hard to squeeze myself into that mold.

I code-switched. I changed my accent with Australian colleagues. I used professional jargon with families and clients. I tucked my culture and spiritual beliefs into the furthest corner of my mind, where they wouldn't make anyone uncomfortable.

I got good at it. Really, really good.

But the colonization of westernized psychology meant I was masking parts of myself that held different spiritual beliefs. Parts rooted in wisdom traditions that could possibly help people heal.

The Layers Start Peeling Back

Something shifted over the last few years.

As I recognized that so much of this so-called "research evidence" actually doesn’t include people like me. As I began decolonizing these influences—peeling back the layers of masking—I realized something crucial: I don't have to hide anymore.

My spiritual beliefs aren't a liability. They're a gift. 'I can be different.'

The more I validate and acknowledge the diversity of my own identity, the easier it becomes to show up authentically with the people I work with. Not despite my differences, but because of them.

We've talked a lot about neurodiversity.

We’ve talked about women in psychology. It’s time we also talk about something else: decolonizing spirituality in therapeutic practice.

Because here's the uncomfortable truth—spirituality and Buddhism, as filtered through western culture's skeptical lens, are often dismissed.

We can't "prove" these concepts in randomized controlled trials, so we avoid them.

We deflect.

We try so hard to make ourselves sound more like science and medicine. We strip the soul from the work.

And in doing so? We're losing the essence and complexity of what it means to be fully human.

What Buddhism Actually Taught Me About Mind

My life as a Buddhist practitioner outside of work has offered me a perspective that is as holistic - if not more - than any theoretical model I learnt at university.

I've witnessed advanced meditation practices allowing people to awaken to their true nature.

I've met an enlightened teacher who only received primary school education in this lifetime yet articulated profound Buddha dharma far more clearly than many academic Buddhist scholars.

I've witnessed great compassionate vows and actions that demonstrated transcendental healing power.

Profound wisdom that understood, with pristine clarity, the causal conditions of past, present, and future—guiding people to breakthrough their delusions and suffering.

I've experienced firsthand what it's like to be blessed by the brightness of that healing.

I tried to rationalize it through the psychology lens—a field with only 150 years of history (if we assumed psychology as a field of study started in 1879).

But the way my dharma teacher explains the levels of mind consciousness? It makes more sense than the theories proposed by modern psychology.

And here's what's both affirming and ironic: modern evidence-based psychology has already incorporated so many Buddhist practices: Mindfulness, Acceptance-based approaches, Compassion-focused therapy. Over thousands of RCTs now validate what Buddhist traditions have taught for thousands of years and how it benefits our psychological wellbeing.

And yet, the systems we work in don't favor the marginalized minorities who've been practicing these spiritual beliefs from the start for generations, long before Western psychology existed.

I've learnt profound practices directly from my dharma teachers. Yet, I must attend CPDs led by WEIRD psychologists (White, Educated, Industrialized, Rich, Democratic) to "learn mindfulness practices" so I can “adapt/ apply them in clinical settings."

The irony isn't lost on me. And it raises a question: what are we actually doing when we ‘rebrand’ ancient wisdom?