A Meditation Practice for People Who Hate Meditation

Let me guess: someone told you to meditate and you tried it once, maybe twice, and it felt like sitting still while your brain screamed at you for fifteen minutes.

Welcome to the club. I've been a member for thirty years.

Here's the thing nobody tells you about meditation: the screaming brain is the practice. Not the failure of it. Not the obstacle to it. The actual practice.

I know. I didn't believe it either. For years, I thought meditation meant achieving some state of blissful empty-headedness where thoughts disappeared like morning fog. Spoiler: that's not what it is. That's not even close to what it is.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start with what meditation actually is — stripped of the incense, the Sanskrit, and the guy in robes telling you to "just let go."

What Meditation Actually Is (Without the Woo-Woo)

Here's the simplest definition I've found after twenty years of daily practice:

Meditation is the practice of noticing where your attention went.

That's it. That's the whole thing.

You sit down. You pick something to focus on — usually your breath, because it's convenient and always with you. Your mind wanders. You notice it wandered. You bring it back. Your mind wanders again. You notice. You bring it back.

Rinse and repeat for however long you've decided to sit.

The part where your mind wanders? That's not you failing at meditation. The part where you notice it wandered? That's you succeeding at meditation.

Every single time you catch your mind drifting and bring it back, you've done a rep. One mental bicep curl. The wandering is the weight. The noticing is the lift.

"I spent years thinking I was bad at meditation because my mind kept wandering. Turns out that's like thinking you're bad at weightlifting because the weights are heavy. The heaviness is the point."

Why Your Brain Hates This (And Why That's Normal)

Your brain has a default setting. Neuroscientists call it the Default Mode Network — the neural circuits that activate when you're not focused on anything specific.¹

The DMN is responsible for mind-wandering, daydreaming, replaying the past, planning the future, and running that delightful internal commentary about how you probably shouldn't have said that thing at the meeting last Tuesday.

When you sit down to meditate, you're essentially asking your DMN to take a break. And it really, really doesn't want to.

This is why meditation feels uncomfortable at first. You're not doing it wrong. You're doing it right, and your brain is protesting because you're interrupting its favorite hobby: narrating your life instead of letting you live it.

Research shows that experienced meditators have reduced activity in the DMN compared to non-meditators.² But — and this is important — it doesn't happen overnight. It happens through repetition. Through sitting with the discomfort of a wandering mind, over and over, until the wandering becomes less automatic.

The good news: you don't need to meditate for ten thousand hours to see benefits. Studies suggest that even brief, regular practice — as little as ten minutes a day — can begin to shift the pattern.³

The bad news: there's no shortcut. You have to actually do it.

The Minimum Viable Practice

If you're skeptical — and you should be, skepticism is healthy — here's the lowest-possible-investment version. Five minutes. That's it.

Step 1: Sit somewhere.

Doesn't need to be on the floor. Doesn't need to be in lotus position. A chair is fine. The edge of your bed is fine. Anywhere you won't fall asleep and no one will interrupt you.

Keep your spine reasonably straight — not military rigid, but not slouched. This isn't about discipline; slouching just makes you sleepy.

Step 2: Set a timer for five minutes.

Use your phone. Use a kitchen timer. Use whatever. The point is to remove "how long has it been?" from the equation. You'll check constantly at first. That's fine. Let the timer handle the time so you can focus on... well, focusing.

Step 3: Close your eyes (or don't).

Closed is easier for most people because it removes visual distraction. But if closed eyes make you anxious or sleepy, leave them slightly open, gaze soft, looking at nothing in particular.

Step 4: Notice your breath.

Don't control it. Don't breathe in any special pattern. Just notice the breath you're already taking. Feel it come in. Feel it go out. Notice where you feel it most — nostrils, chest, belly. That's your anchor point.

Step 5: When your mind wanders (it will), notice and return.

This is the practice. Your mind will start planning dinner, replaying a conversation, wondering if this is working, judging yourself for being distracted. All normal. All fine.

When you notice you've drifted, don't criticize yourself. Don't restart in frustration. Just gently — I mean genuinely gently — return attention to the breath.

Step 6: Repeat until the timer goes off.

That's it. That's meditation. Not the transcendence. Not the empty mind. Not the bliss. Just this: noticing where attention went, and choosing where to put it next.

"The instruction is simple. The practice is hard. But 'hard' isn't the same as 'complicated.' You already know everything you need to know. Now you just need to sit with it. Literally."

Common Objections (And Honest Responses)

I've taught meditation to beginners for years. I've heard every objection. Here are the greatest hits:

"I can't stop thinking."

You're not supposed to. The goal isn't to stop thoughts. The goal is to notice them without getting swept away. Thoughts will come. That's what brains do. The practice is in how you relate to them — as passing clouds, not as commands you must follow.

"I tried it and nothing happened."

Nothing dramatic is supposed to happen, especially at first. You're not looking for fireworks. You're building a skill, like learning to play an instrument. The first time you hold a guitar, you don't play a concert. You make awkward noises. That's where you start.

"It's boring."

Yes. It is. Especially at first. Here's the uncomfortable truth: we've become so addicted to stimulation that sitting quietly for five minutes feels unbearable. The boredom isn't a bug — it's a feature. Learning to tolerate boredom is part of what you're practicing.

"I don't have time."

You have time to scroll your phone. You have time for this. Five minutes. That's less time than it takes to read this article. The question isn't time — it's priority.

"It feels pointless."

Fair. It does feel pointless, especially when you're sitting there watching your breath like some kind of amateur yogi while your to-do list grows. But research consistently shows measurable changes in brain structure and function from regular practice.⁴ The pointlessness is a feeling, not a fact.

"I fell asleep."

That means you're tired. Meditation isn't a cure for sleep deprivation. If you're falling asleep every time, try practicing earlier in the day, or after moving your body, or sitting up straighter. Or, you know, get more sleep.

What You're Actually Training

Here's the part that took me years to understand, and that I wish someone had explained clearly from the start:

Meditation trains interoception — your ability to sense what's happening inside your own body and mind.⁵

Think about it: how often do you actually know what you're feeling in the moment you're feeling it? Most of us notice emotions after they've already hijacked our behavior. We snap at someone and only later realize we were anxious. We eat an entire bag of chips and only afterward notice we weren't hungry — we were stressed.

Meditation strengthens the connection between stimulus and awareness. It shortens the gap between something happening inside you and you noticing it's happening.

This is why regular meditators report better emotional regulation — not because they've transcended emotions, but because they catch them earlier. They notice the rising frustration before it becomes a shouted response. They notice the pull toward the phone before they've already opened Instagram.

The practice isn't about becoming some serene, unflappable Buddha. It's about becoming someone who notices what's happening in time to make a choice about how to respond.

That's it. That's the practical benefit. Not enlightenment. Just a slightly longer pause between trigger and reaction.

"Twenty years of meditation hasn't made me calm. It's made me faster at noticing when I'm not calm. Which, it turns out, is almost as useful."

The Only Rule That Matters

If you take nothing else from this article, take this:

Consistency beats duration.

Five minutes every day is better than an hour once a week. The research supports this, and so does my experience. The people who build lasting practices are the ones who show up daily, even when it's short, even when it's imperfect, even when it feels like nothing is happening.

I have a "two-day rule" I use for all habits: never miss two days in a row. One day off is fine — life happens. But two days becomes three, becomes a week, becomes "I used to meditate."

Start with five minutes. Do it for two weeks. If it's working for you — and by "working" I mean you're doing it, not that you've achieved nirvana — add another five. Build slowly. Sustainability matters more than ambition.

What to Expect (Realistically)

Let me save you some disappointment by being honest about the timeline:

Week 1: This will feel awkward and possibly stupid. Your mind will wander constantly. You'll wonder if you're doing it right. (You are, as long as you're sitting and noticing.) You'll probably forget to practice at least once. Normal.

Weeks 2-4: The awkwardness will decrease slightly. You might start noticing patterns in where your mind goes when it wanders. The five minutes will start to feel less like an eternity. Still won't be pleasant, exactly, but less actively annoying.

Month 2-3: You might start noticing small changes off the cushion. A slightly longer pause before reacting. Catching yourself mid-spiral occasionally. Nothing dramatic. Just small moments of awareness that weren't there before.

Month 6+: If you've stuck with it, meditation starts to feel less like a chore and more like maintenance. Like brushing your teeth. You don't love it, but you notice when you skip it. The benefits become harder to attribute directly to meditation because they've become part of how you operate.

Notice what's missing from this timeline: the transcendent experience. The breakthrough moment. The dramatic transformation.

Those might happen. For some people they do. But they're not the point, and expecting them is a good way to quit in frustration when they don't show up on schedule.

The point is the slow, boring, almost imperceptible shift in how you relate to your own mind. It's not exciting. But it compounds.

For the Skeptics (One More Time)

Look, I get it. Meditation sounds like exactly the kind of thing people who wear crystals and talk about "vibrations" would recommend.

But here's the thing: the research doesn't care about crystals. Brain imaging studies show actual structural changes in meditators' brains — increased gray matter in areas associated with learning, memory, and emotional regulation.⁶ These aren't woo-woo claims. They're peer-reviewed findings.

You don't have to believe in anything to meditate. You don't have to buy the spiritual framework. You don't have to think it's going to unlock your chakras or align your energy or whatever.

You just have to be willing to sit with yourself for five minutes a day and notice where your attention goes.

That's the whole ask. Five minutes. A chair. Your breath.

If it doesn't work for you after a genuine effort — say, a month of mostly-daily practice — then fine. At least you'll know. But most people who try it properly — actually try it, not just think about trying it — find something useful.

Not transformation. Not enlightenment. Just a slightly clearer relationship with their own mind.

That's been worth the effort for me. It might be worth it for you too.

Or not. Only one way to find out.

~ Soren Ross

Notes & References

¹ Raichle, M.E. (2015). "The brain's default mode network." Annual Review of Neuroscience, 38, 433-447. The DMN was discovered through brain imaging studies and represents the neural basis of mind-wandering.

² Brewer, J.A. et al. (2011). "Meditation experience is associated with differences in default mode network activity and connectivity." Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 108(50), 20254-20259.

³ Zeidan, F. et al. (2010). "Mindfulness meditation improves cognition: Evidence of brief mental training." Consciousness and Cognition, 19(2), 597-605. This study showed cognitive benefits from just four days of brief meditation training.

⁴ Tang, Y.Y., Hölzel, B.K., & Posner, M.I. (2015). "The neuroscience of mindfulness meditation." Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 16(4), 213-225. A comprehensive review of meditation's effects on brain structure and function.

⁵ Farb, N.A.S. et al. (2015). "Interoception, contemplative practice, and health." Frontiers in Psychology, 6, 763. This paper explores how meditation enhances awareness of internal bodily sensations.

⁶ Hölzel, B.K. et al. (2011). "Mindfulness practice leads to increases in regional brain gray matter density." Psychiatry Research: Neuroimaging, 191(1), 36-43.