A therapeutic reflection on presence, choice, and cultivating inner peace: A Book Review of A Monk’s Guide to Happiness by Gelong Thubten

In A Monk’s Guide to Happiness, Gelong Thubten offers a quietly powerful guide to wellbeing that blends accessible Buddhist philosophy with deeply personal storytelling. As a monk who once worked in the entertainment industry before retreating into monastic life, Thubten writes not from a place of detachment, but from lived experience of the modern pressures many of us face—burnout, overthinking, and the search for meaning.

Therapeutically, the book’s most valuable offering is its gentle insistence that happiness is not an achievement, but a practice of awareness and compassion. Thubten unpacks this idea with clarity and warmth, encouraging us to see meditation not as an escape from the world, but as a tool to engage more fully and kindly with it.

For clients struggling with anxiety, people-pleasing, or low self-worth, Thubten’s emphasis on choice is empowering. He reminds us that even when we feel trapped by circumstance or emotion, we always have the choice to respond with compassion—to ourselves and others. This is particularly resonant in therapeutic work, where cultivating the “inner witness” can help create space between impulse and reaction.

Throughout the book, he shares brief, practical exercises—some as short as a minute—that can be integrated into daily life. These are perfect for those who find traditional meditation daunting or feel they don't have time to ‘do it right’. This demystifying approach may be especially reassuring for clients who fear they’re not “spiritual enough” or who struggle with perfectionism.

Thubten also challenges the Western pursuit of happiness as something external—hinged on success, relationships, or productivity. Instead, he gently invites the reader to consider a version of happiness rooted in connection, stillness, and acceptance. This redefinition can be a meaningful turning point for those whose sense of identity is tied up in doing rather than being.

What’s particularly moving is Thubten’s own vulnerability: he doesn’t present himself as a guru above human struggles. He writes of doubt, grief, and resistance in ways that humanise the practice and allow space for imperfection. For clients navigating shame or fear of failure, this modelling of compassion-in-action is quietly radical.

Therapeutic takeaways:

Meditation is a practice of returning—not getting it right.

We can respond to difficulty with kindness, rather than control.

Happiness is not a future event, but a quality of presence.

The mind is trainable, and even brief daily practices matter.

In session or supervision, this book may support conversations around mindful living, reframing narratives about failure or success, and resourcing clients who need grounding practices for emotional regulation. It also serves as a gentle companion for therapists themselves—reminding us to return to the breath, the moment, and the soft edges of being human.