I spent years convinced I couldn’t meditate.
Every time I tried, my mind raced. I’d sit there thinking about emails, replaying conversations, planning dinner. After five minutes I’d open my eyes feeling more agitated than when I started.
“My brain just doesn’t work that way,” I told myself.
Turns out I was wrong. I wasn’t failing at meditation — I just didn’t understand what meditation actually was.
The biggest misconception
Here’s what nobody tells you: meditation isn’t about stopping your thoughts.
I genuinely believed the goal was an empty mind. Blissful silence. Thoughts floating away like clouds until nothing remained but pure awareness.
No wonder I felt like a failure. That’s not how brains work.
Your mind produces thoughts the way your heart pumps blood. It’s not something you can — or should — try to stop.
Meditation is about noticing when your mind has wandered, and gently returning your attention. That’s it. The wandering isn’t failure. The wandering is what creates the opportunity to practise.
Think of it like training a puppy to sit. The puppy wanders off. You don’t shout at it — you just guide it back, patiently, again and again. That patient redirection is the training.
How to actually do it
Forget everything you’ve seen in stock photos. You don’t need a cushion, incense, or the ability to sit cross-legged. You need about five minutes and somewhere reasonably quiet.
Sit comfortably. Chair, sofa, floor, bed — whatever works. If your back hurts after two minutes, you’ve chosen wrong. Adjust.
Close your eyes. Or don’t. Some people prefer a soft gaze at a spot on the floor. Both work.
Notice your breathing. Don’t try to control it. Just feel the air coming in, going out. Maybe notice your belly rising and falling, or the sensation at your nostrils.
When your mind wanders — and it will — notice that. “Oh, I’m thinking about work.” No judgment. Just notice.
Return to the breath. Gently. Like guiding that puppy back.
Repeat. For the entire session.
That’s meditation. Seriously. Notice, return. Notice, return.
The five-minute version
If you want to try right now:
Set a timer for five minutes. Sit. Close your eyes. Feel your breathing. When you notice you’ve drifted into thoughts, gently come back to the breath. When the timer goes off, you’re done.
Five minutes. That’s enough to experience what meditation actually is.
You probably won’t feel transformed. You might feel slightly calmer, or you might feel annoyed that your mind kept wandering. Both are completely normal starting points.
Why it feels hard
When I first started, I assumed the difficulty meant I was doing it wrong. My mind wandered constantly. I felt restless. Sometimes I got more anxious, not less.
This is universal. It’s hard because:
We’re not used to doing nothing. Our whole lives train us to be productive, to stay busy, to scroll when bored. Sitting quietly feels almost rebellious.
Stillness reveals what’s underneath. When you stop moving, you notice what you’ve been avoiding — stress, worry, uncomfortable feelings. That’s not meditation making things worse. It’s meditation showing you what was already there.
It’s genuinely boring sometimes. Especially at first. That boredom is part of the training.
The difficulty doesn’t mean you’re bad at meditation. It means you’re human.
What meditation is actually for
People come to meditation for all sorts of reasons. Stress reduction, better sleep, managing anxiety, curiosity about mindfulness.
Here’s what consistent practice actually delivers:
More space between trigger and reaction. Someone cuts you off in traffic. Instead of immediately rage, there’s a tiny gap where you can choose your response.
Better awareness of your own mind. You start noticing patterns — that you always get anxious on Sunday evenings, that certain people trigger you, that you catastrophise about work.
Easier access to calm. Not that you’re always calm, but that you can find your way back more quickly.
Improved focus. The muscle you train in meditation — returning attention when it wanders — turns out to be useful everywhere.
These benefits don’t appear overnight. They build gradually, often so subtly you don’t notice until you look back and realise something’s shifted.
How long and how often
Start embarrassingly small.
Five minutes daily beats thirty minutes weekly. Consistency matters more than duration.
Once five minutes feels natural, try ten. Then fifteen. Many people settle around 15-20 minutes as their sweet spot, but there’s no magic number.
Time of day matters less than regularity. Some people swear by morning practice. Others meditate before bed. I’ve done it on my lunch break, waiting in car parks, even in toilet cubicles. Whatever works.
The goal is building a habit that sticks. You can optimise later.
Positions that actually work
Forget lotus pose unless you’re already flexible.
Chair: Feet flat on the floor, hands on your thighs. Completely legitimate.
Sofa or bed: Sitting upright with some back support. The risk is getting too comfortable and dozing off.
Lying down: Works well for sleep-focused meditation or when sitting hurts. You might fall asleep, which isn’t the end of the world.
Walking: Yes, really. You can meditate while walking slowly, focusing on the sensations in your feet and legs.
The best position is the one you’ll actually use.
When your mind won’t stop
It won’t. That’s not a problem to solve.
Some days my mind is relatively settled. Other days it’s like a caffeinated squirrel in there. Both types of session count. Both types build the skill.
What helps:
Shorter sessions when agitated. If ten minutes feels impossible, do three. A three-minute meditation is infinitely more valuable than a skipped ten-minute one.
Counting breaths. Inhale, exhale, “one.” Inhale, exhale, “two.” Up to ten, then start over. When you lose count (you will), just begin again. No frustration.
Body focus. If the breath isn’t working, try feeling your feet on the floor, or your hands resting. Something concrete.
Let go of the session’s quality. A “bad” meditation — distracted, restless, annoying — is still practice. The returning is what builds the skill, and you can only return if you’ve wandered.
What about apps?
Apps can help, especially when starting. A voice guiding you removes the guesswork about what to do next.
The traditional approach uses pre-recorded sessions. Pick something from a library, press play, follow along. This works well for many people.
AI meditation — what we do at InTheMoment — takes it further. Instead of generic recordings, you have a brief conversation about what’s on your mind, and the session is created for your specific situation.
If you’re stuck thinking about a presentation tomorrow, the session addresses that. If you’re meditating on a train, the guidance adapts. If you’re a complete beginner, it explains more. If you’re experienced, it gets out of your way.
You can try two free sessions per day, no card required.
But honestly? You can also just sit with a timer, follow your breath, and do perfectly well. Apps are tools, not requirements.
The only rule that matters
Do it regularly.
That’s really it. Regular practice — even if short, even if “bad” — builds the skill meditation teaches. Irregular practice, no matter how good individual sessions feel, doesn’t compound.
Find a time. Protect it. Show up even when you don’t feel like it.
Everything else is detail.
What to expect over time
First few weeks: Mostly just getting used to sitting. Maybe noticing how busy your mind is. Possibly some doubt about whether this is doing anything.
First month or two: Starting to notice subtle shifts. Catching yourself mid-reaction sometimes. Maybe sleeping a bit better. Slightly more aware of your mental patterns.
Three to six months: The practice becoming more natural. The benefits showing up in life outside meditation. People sometimes noticing you seem calmer, even if you don’t feel dramatically different.
Ongoing: A skill you have access to. Something you can return to during difficult moments. A different relationship with your own thoughts.
None of this is guaranteed. But it’s what many people report, including me.
Start today
You could sit right now, for five minutes, and experience what meditation actually is.
You don’t need to buy anything. You don’t need to download anything. You just need to sit, breathe, notice when your mind wanders, and gently return.
That’s the whole practice. Simple doesn’t mean easy, but simple means you can start immediately.
Five minutes. Give it a try.
Want guided meditation that adapts to what you’re actually dealing with? Get started with two free sessions per day — no experience required.