Meditation

Meditation: Why Some Love It and Others Avoid It Like the Plague

Meditation is one of those practices that tends to create strong reactions. Some people look forward to it and feel deeply nourished by it. Others avoid it entirely, convinced they are incapable of doing it correctly.

Part of the challenge is that there are so many schools of thought about what meditation should be, could be, and is. Depending on who you ask, meditation might involve sitting silently for an hour, following the breath, chanting a mantra, walking in nature, focusing on a candle flame, or simply becoming present with what is happening in the moment.

While there are many approaches, most meditation practices share a common thread: focused awareness and intentional presence.

Meditation actually means “to become familiar with.” It is not about sitting like a pretzel on a cushion while maintaining a perfectly quiet mind. Yet that is often the image many people carry. They believe that if thoughts arise, if they feel restless, or if they cannot sit still, they are somehow failing.

The reality is that thoughts are part of being human.

Most people do not struggle with meditation because they are doing it wrong. They struggle because they are becoming aware of how busy their minds have been all along.

One of the simplest ways to begin is by connecting with the breath.

As the breath moves in and out, it becomes an anchor for attention. Rather than following every squirrel thought that rushes through the mind and drags us into tomorrow’s task list, yesterday’s conversation, or next month’s worries, we gently return our focus to the breath.

The breath is always here.

The present moment is always here.

And meditation is simply an invitation to meet both.

Creating an environment that supports presence can also be helpful. Quiet spaces with fewer distractions often make it easier to settle. This is one reason nature has long been considered some of the best medicine available. Nature invites us back into our senses. We begin noticing the sound of birds, the feeling of wind against our skin, the scent of pine or earth after rain, the movement of leaves overhead.

Tuning into our senses naturally draws us into the present moment.

There are countless ways to create a little space between ourselves and the noise of daily life.

Even for those who meditate regularly, distractions still arise. We may become attached to previous experiences, hoping to recreate a profound feeling, a spiritual connection, a creative breakthrough, or a moment of deep peace. We may become focused on arriving somewhere rather than simply being where we are.

Ironically, this can become another obstacle.

For me, meditation tends to deepen when I stop trying to get somewhere. There is a fluidity and ease that emerges when there is no destination in mind. Wherever I am, that is where I am.

In Taoist meditation, there is a sitting practice called Dazuo. Within this tradition, there is a distinction between what is sometimes referred to as “false” and “true” Dazuo.

False Dazuo focuses primarily on posture, technique, and outward appearance. We may become preoccupied with sitting correctly, closing the eyes correctly, or trying to force a particular state of consciousness. In doing so, we often become attached to reaching a destination.

True Dazuo is less concerned with appearance and more concerned with intention. It is about how we maintain awareness throughout the meditation itself. It invites us to become observers of our experience and to reconnect with our original nature.

According to this perspective, our attention is constantly being pulled through what are often called the four gates: the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

Through these gates, external experiences enter our awareness and influence the heart and mind.

A smell can trigger a memory.

A sound can evoke an emotion.

A sight can create a fantasy.

A taste can awaken desire.

Before we know it, we are no longer present. We have traveled into memories, future projections, dreams, fears, and stories. These mental wanderings generate emotions, and those emotions further pull us from our original intention.

Many traditions describe this as the “monkey mind.”

The mind jumps from branch to branch while thoughts race like wild horses across an open field.

The horses are not wrong for running.

The monkey is not wrong for climbing.

The practice is simply to notice.

One of the aspects of meditation I value most is the cultivation of patience; essential in all aspects of connectedness, happiness and joy.

Meditation often becomes a waiting game. We sit with whatever arises—thoughts, emotions, discomfort, beliefs, memories, desires, or resistance.

We learn to observe rather than react.

This is not always easy. In fact, it can be one of the most challenging things we do.

Yet through observation, something remarkable begins to happen. We stop fighting every experience. We stop identifying with every thought. We begin moving through the obstacles rather than becoming trapped by them.

Little by little, clarity emerges.

The mud settles.

The water becomes clear.

As we become less attached to the stories running through the mind, we gain access to deeper wisdom. Some traditions describe this as returning to our original nature. Others call it presence, awareness, consciousness, spirit, or connection to Source.

Whatever language resonates with you, the experience points toward something beyond constant mental activity. And I’m all about it!

In advanced Taoist traditions, practitioners sometimes speak of the “Golden Elixir”—a symbolic process of internal refinement and transformation. While interpretations vary, it often points toward the cultivation of a more integrated and awakened state of being. A state in which our awareness expands beyond habitual patterns and reconnects with a deeper reality.

For most of us, however, meditation does not require a mountain cave, a monastery, or a life devoted entirely to spiritual practice.

The invitation is much simpler.

Practice small pockets of focused attention.

Take a few conscious breaths.

Bring the mind back into the body…”centered.”

I like to Imagine a still pond of water. Every thought creates a ripple across its surface. The ripples are not the problem. They are simply part of the experience. The moment you notice the ripple, gently return to your breath and your intention.

Can you allow the water to settle?

This will build patience that translates nicely to the “real” world.

Can you remain present long enough to witness what emerges when the surface becomes calm?

The thoughts will come.

The ripples will happen.

Your only job is to notice and return.

Again and again.

Your focused intention will build over time.

What is called “Pure Mind” does not mean having no thoughts. It means cultivating a heart and mind that are less controlled by illusion, distraction, and unconscious reactivity…and our lives can foster plenty of them. Becoming aware of what is pulling our attention away from what matters most is the goal.

Sometimes the greatest gift we can offer ourselves is a brief “Out of Office” sign.

For five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Even one conscious breath.

The emails, responsibilities, and obligations will still be there afterward.

What often changes is how we relate to them.

The very things that felt overwhelming before meditation may appear differently after it. We respond with greater clarity, patience, and intention because we have remembered something important:

We are more than the noise.

We are more than the endless to-do list.

We are more than the stories running through our minds.

We are the awareness that can witness them all.

At The Nature Within, meditation is not viewed as a rigid practice that must fit inside a single box. Whether your path includes breathwork, mindfulness, Reiki, movement, nature-based awareness, guided meditation, or simply learning how to be with yourself for a few quiet moments each day, there is space for you.

Through workshops, trainings, coaching sessions, Reiki experiences, and community gatherings, the intention is not to teach people how to escape life. The intention is to help people become more fully present within it.

Meditation can be a doorway to healing, self-awareness, resilience, intuition, and inner peace. It can support nervous system regulation, emotional balance, spiritual growth, and a deeper connection to your authentic self.

There is no perfect way to meditate.

There is only your way, whatever that looks like for you today. Tomorrow it may look and feel differently.

The invitation is to begin where you are, with what you have, and trust that each moment of presence creates a pathway back to yourself.

And perhaps that is what meditation has been asking of us all along—not perfection, but presence. Not escape, but connection. Not becoming someone else, but remembering who we have always been.

Because within the stillness, beneath the ripples, beyond the noise, the nature within is already waiting.