Here’s a gentle truth that might bring relief: meditation isn’t something you can get wrong, as long as you’re showing up.
When we sit in meditation, we often bring our achievement-oriented mind along with us—the same mind that excels at measuring, comparing, and striving for improvement. This isn’t a mistake; it’s simply what minds do. But in meditation, we’re cultivating a different relationship with this very tendency.
Notice what happens when you wonder if you’re “doing it right.” There’s often a subtle anxiety beneath the question, a concern that you might be wasting your time or missing some essential technique that would make the practice more effective. This concern itself is worth befriending rather than banishing.
The paradox of meditation is that the moments you might label as “failures”—when your mind wanders, when you feel restless, when you can’t stop planning dinner—these are actually the heart of the practice. Each time you notice your attention has drifted and gently guide it back to your breath or chosen anchor, you’re strengthening the muscle of awareness. You’re not failing at meditation; you’re actively engaging in it.
Rather than asking if you’re meditating correctly, you might consider different questions: Are you approaching the practice with gentleness toward yourself? Are you noticing what’s arising without immediate judgment? Are you returning to the present moment when you discover you’ve wandered away? If so, you’re doing exactly what meditation asks of us.
Some days, meditation will feel peaceful and easeful. Other days, it will feel like you’re hosting a mental circus. Both experiences are equally valuable, equally “correct.” The practice isn’t about manufacturing tranquility; it’s about meeting whatever arises with a kind attention.
If you’re looking for signposts rather than guarantees, you might notice these changes over time: Perhaps you catch yourself sooner when you’re lost in thought. Perhaps you respond rather than react more often in daily life. Perhaps there’s a slight loosening around your habitual patterns. These subtle shifts matter more than any momentary state during meditation itself.
Remember that even lifelong meditators face restless minds and difficult sessions. They simply meet these challenges with less self-criticism, recognizing them as part of the landscape rather than obstacles to overcome.
So when that question arises again—”Am I doing this right?”—perhaps greet it as another thought to notice and release. The very act of showing up with sincerity, again and again, is itself the practice. The rest is just details.
In the end, the most “correct” meditation might simply be the one you actually do, imperfections and all.
