Given that only a couple of people understood what the previous thread was all about (perhaps because they're the only people who actually read the article which was the focus of the thread), I'm going to give this another shot. I have heavily edited the article and made the application to trading more clear. And while it's unlikely that the trolls will allow the discussion to get very far, at least this post is here, and will remain here unless it's deleted, and perhaps someone can derive some benefit from it sometime. Mindfulness Provides a Path to Emotionless Trading from Ronald Siegel, heavily edited In the Buddhist traditions from which many contemporary mindfulness practices derive, mindfulness techniques evolved as tools for deconstructing our usual view of ourselves and the world, for waking up from conventional, socially reinforced fictions about who we are and how to find happiness. This awakening occurs to the degree that we no longer believe in the self. It involves realizing what’s called in Pali—the language in which the Buddha’s teachings were first recorded—anatta, or non-self. The mindfulness practice that leads to recognizing anatta is deceptively simple. It begins with cultivating concentration—choosing an object of awareness, such as [price movement], and returning attention to that object every time the mind wanders from it. Once some concentration is established, we open the field of awareness to attend to whatever predominates in consciousness. Throughout the process, we try to accept whatever arises, whether pleasant or unpleasant. Ancient Buddhists described the process by which we construct reality and our sense of self much as modern cognitive scientists do. It all begins with sense contact: the coming together of a sense organ (the eye, for example) with an object of awareness. These sensations are then immediately organized into perceptions, conditioned by language, personal history, and culture. The mind doesn’t stay at the level of perception for long, however. It immediately adds a hedonic or feeling tone to all experience (“I like this” or “I don’t like this”). And almost as soon as the feeling tone enters consciousness, intentions arise. Over time, we develop habits of intention that we might call dispositions or conditioned responses—collections of habitual responses to our likes and dislikes. These dispositions become important elements in our identities. In Buddhist psychology, awakening to anatta, or non-self, is central to psychological freedom. And even glimpsing anatta in our mindfulness practice can have profound implications for how we [trade]. Some changes are simple. Instead of asking, “How [does] that make you feel?” we inquire, “What’s happening right now?” Instead of [focusing on the] self, we highlight how everything changes moment by moment. By helping us observe—rather than identify with—our thoughts, mindfulness practice reveals how often we’re concerned with our rank in our particular troop. Other species may stick to a few variables, like who’s stronger or more fertile-looking, but we compare ourselves to one another in a remarkable range of domains. For one person, it’s who’s smarter; for another, it’s who’s richer; for someone else, it’s who’s more popular. Then there’s who has the better body, the better-behaved child or spouse, the more developed sense of style, athletic ability, or social graces. The list goes on and on. Among meditators, this gets really ridiculous: Who’s less self-centered? Who makes fewer comparisons to others? When we win in these comparisons, we feel good about ourselves—briefly. In our psychological models, we call this process healthy narcissism or self-esteem. The problem is, it’s impossible to come out on top consistently. Unless we live in Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon, “where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average,” some of us are always going to land below the median. Trying to feel good about ourselves by enhancing our self-esteem leads to all sorts of folly. As early as 1965, Caroline Preston and Stanley Harris studied drivers who’d had serious accidents, and they compared them with matched controls with good driving records. Ninety percent of both groups rated themselves as more skilled than other drivers, even though the drivers involved in accidents had considerably worse driving records than average. Later, in a 1976 survey by The College Board, 85 percent of students ranked themselves above the median in their ability to get along well with others, and 25 percent even rated themselves in the top 1 percent. Other research shows that most people think they’re better looking, nicer, more popular, logical, funny, wise, and intelligent than others. This extraordinarily robust tendency has even earned a name in social psychology: the better-than-average effect. The problem with self-esteem is that in order to feel okay about ourselves, we need to puff ourselves up while putting others down. This leads to all sorts of prejudices, such as thinking that I or my group is better than you or your group. It also keeps us from looking honestly at our shortcomings, and thereby prevents us from addressing them. Grasping anatta [means] that we no longer devote our energies so relentlessly to scheming and strategizing about how to feel as good as possible [about our trading] to opening to whatever may be happening in the moment. This shift can be a tremendous relief. It’s as if the mind—worn and weary from endlessly wishing things would be other than they are—gets to rest in accepting what is. And when I notice how much of what I stress about all day involves trying to bolster my self-esteem or hold onto pleasure and avoid discomfort, the struggle gives way to an inner chuckle about my insanity. This awareness of the price we pay for self-preoccupation comes most readily when we can see the thought-stream for what it is and not identify so much with the contents of our minds. Combined with seeing that our emotions are just a mix of bodily sensations, words, and images, this realization can lead to surprising fearlessness, even in the face of major [trading] challenges. When we relate to each moment [during the session] as the impersonal unfolding of [price prints], rather than “my joy” or “my sorrow,” we can face more adversity with less resistance. There really is nothing to fear [if one is thorougly prepared and focuses on those prints rather than on what one thinks about them, or "feels" about them]. As we come to see the reality of anatta and experience the relief and freedom that this realization brings, our orientation toward [trading] shifts. Egocentrism falls by the wayside as we [focus on price's movements rather than our "selves"].
Based on this philosophy a trader might not feel emotions irrespective of whether there is a plan or not.