I’ve always wanted to meditate. And I was never able to. Distractible and driven by nature, I found it impossible to close my eyes and focus on a mantra or try to stop thinking. I had tried apps like Headspace and Calm but couldn’t stick with the practice and enjoy those benefits of doing nothing that everyone else seemed to rave about.

And besides, I didn’t have time to meditate! I didn’t have time to sit and do nothing. I always had so many things to do. Important things. Not-so-important things. But lots and lots of things.

As a writer who covers health and wellness, I knew meditation was associated with a slew of benefits — everything from boosting your immune system and lowering your blood pressures to easing depression and anxiety and boosting your overall mood. All of that sounded good to me, so in January, 2023, I decided to try again. This time, I’d lower my expectations.

I would simply sit, and focus on my breath and try to clear my mind. For three minutes a day. That was doable, wasn’t it? 

It was almost impossible.

Could I Discover the Benefits of Doing Nothing?

Random, unwelcome thoughts scrolled through my head. Work deadlines. Worries about retirement. What I needed to get at the grocery store. The fact that this was probably a waste of time. Noticing how stiff my knees felt. A sudden memory from first grade when my mom was late to pick me up from school. Realizing I’d forgotten to put in my Factor order for the week. My body felt itchy and uncomfortable and still I sat, and focused on slow, even inhales, and slow, relaxed exhales, thinking “I am breathing in. I am breathing out.”

I fought the urge to get up, open my eyes, or shift position. I forced myself to sit until my timer sounded.

I fought the urge to get up or open my eyes or shift my position (okay, I did scratch my nose) and forced myself to sit until my timer sounded.

I did the same thing the next day. And the next. And the next.

Sometimes I put “nature sounds” on my phone. When the weather was warm enough, I sat outside and listened to the sounds of my suburban neighborhood. Gradually it became easier, and I started extending my “sits.” I started to notice things I hadn’t before. Like that there is a space between breaths. That I could pause, between inhaling and exhaling, and simply be. When random thoughts announced themselves, I worked on letting them go, like leaves floating down a quiet stream, instead of reacting to them.

And I learned that just as there is a space between breaths, there is a space between thoughts. Over time, I added minutes to my practice and now I “sit” for 30 minutes. Every day. 

Getting Into My Groove

Some days are more difficult than others — my thoughts come colliding along, and I have to focus on a mantra like “I am still,” or “peace,” or I simply count my breaths and let those thoughts roll away.

Other days the 30 minutes passes without me noticing, and I come back to myself, feeling a deep, peaceful calm that is new to me. The reward for doing “nothing.”

Doing nothing is another relatively new thing for me, and for most women in midlife. We are used to getting shit done. We have to. I certainly do. I’m a single mom with two teenaged kids and a fulltime job and a freelance career and two animals and I play 8-ball two nights a week and I have a guy and friends and family and responsibilities and goals and I need to save more for retirement and I need to schedule a mammogram and I need to visit my mom … and none of that matters when I meditate. All I have to do is sit, and breathe, and be.

Meditation reminds me, every day, that nothing really matters except the present moment. But it’s not all good news. I was surprised to discover that about one in four people do experience some negative “side effects” from meditation, including distorted emotions or thoughts, anxiety or fear, or an altered sense of the world. [KJ2] I haven’t had that kind of experience — though at 58, I’m pretty slow getting up out of my “criss-cross-applesauce” pose.

Surrendering to Stillness

I’m slower in other ways, too. As a self-admitted “type A,” I used to be hyper-focused on my goals, always striving to achieve something new. Training for a marathon. Writing a book. Writing another book. Another. Changing careers. Getting good enough at pool to play in the national competition in Vegas. I was always planning how I was going to meet my next challenge, focusing on the future goal instead of the present.

My mojo was always striving to achieve something new. And meditation messed with it.

That was my mojo. And meditation messed with it.

Now I find myself “in the moment” far more often. I’m less anxious. I’m less reactive. I sleep way better than I ever have (even after menopause!). I have learned that my thoughts are only that — thoughts — and I don’t have to respond to them.

My former drive — the drive that I thought was part of me, encoded in my DNA — has lost its siren call. I still work and freelance and buy groceries and drive family members places and walk my dog and do laundry and all the other things. I also do nothing — actually nothing — far more often.

I sit outside on my patio on a lovely spring day, without scrolling through my phone or seeking distraction. I stroke my dog’s silky ears when she puts her head on my lap, marveling at their softness. I find myself feeling grateful for the moment. For my breath. For the space between breaths. For everything.

I thought meditation had wrecked my mojo. Instead, meditation has become my mojo.

Kelly K. James is a freelance journalist and author of The Book That (Almost) Got Me Fired: How I (Barely) Survived a Year in Corporate America, a memoir about going back to work in her 50s after 22 years of full-time freelancing.