How to Sit

A practice to see who you are.

Meditation is clearing the mind — "I can't make the thoughts go away." That craving for a blank mind — that's exactly what you're here to examine. You meditate not to push thoughts away, but to let go of trying to control them. Sometimes no thoughts appear. Other times, thoughts storm your mind. Neither is a problem. What matters is how you meet them — and how you meet their absence.

Thoughts are not the enemy. The mind thinks — 'Pick up bread on the way home', 'I am not enough', 'I need to...'. There's nothing wrong with any of these thoughts. It only becomes a prison when you take them as truth — about who you are, what the world is. Use them, but don't believe them.

Meditation disconnects you from the world — On the train, you look around and see people on their phones. A world of judgements — who's present, who isn't. The quiet assumption: you must be better, because you're not glued to your phone. Don't be fooled: you're just as distracted, lost in your thoughts — just without a screen. You've reduced the world to "them, distracted" and "me, noticing." That's not the world. That's the story you brought onto the train. Meditation doesn't disconnect you — it shows you the story that does.

Meditation makes you passive — With a settled mind, you feel emotions in their rawest form. You no longer feel sadness about your sadness, but sadness as it is. So cry baby cry, but don't cry about your crying.

Meditation is supernatural — You have this body. Pain and pleasure are normal. Just don't believe the stories that pile on top of those raw experiences — even the ones that feel profound.

True peace requires renunciation — Some believe peace is only possible for those who give everything up. If you have the chance to go on retreat, take it — it's extremely helpful. But peace isn't found in a monastery or a cave. It's found right here.

There's nowhere to go — No phone. Just you and your thoughts. Most people would rather do anything else. That urge — that's what you came here to see.

You'll see what you've buried — Everything buried will surface. These are what keep pulling you away. In facing them, the running stops. Some of it runs deep — deeper than you can sit with alone. A good therapist can help.

You'll see the harm you've caused — In the silence, you see the faces of the people you've hurt. For me, a sadness flushes my body: I made someone feel less than. That's real. Nothing changes it. But this moment is different: I get to choose who to be.

Life will get harder before it gets easier — With a focused mind, you'll start to notice the gaps — moments of quiet between one thought and the next. And in that quiet, you'll come face to face with how restless you've made your mind. You have a choice: keep distracting yourself, or do the work.

What the sitting changed — identity, emotions, the rest. Read the letter.

You'll need a reason to return when it gets hard.

Mine was simple: I was suffering and I wanted to be happy. That was enough to keep me sitting.

Find what's true for you. It will evolve as the practice deepens — let it.

Find a quiet spot. Just you and your mind.

On the floor — Two cushions are useful here. The first is what you sit on: a round cushion called a zafu, which raises your hips slightly above your knees — this matters for keeping your spine upright. If you don't have a zafu, a folded blanket or firm pillow works fine. The second goes underneath everything to cushion your legs from the floor. Use either a yoga mat or zabuton: a flat square mat. Four common positions — Burmese and Seiza are good places to start.

On a chair — If sitting on the floor is difficult, use a chair. Plant both feet flat on the floor and sit toward the middle of the seat — not against the back. Your hips should still be slightly above your knees.

Back — In either case, you should be engaging your back muscles: not leaning against a wall or the back of the chair. Drive your tailbone into the seat as if gravity is pulling it down — your spine will follow its natural curvature: upright, but not rigid — chin tucked slightly.

Hands — Find what works for you. Personally, I rest both hands in my lap, palms up, one cradled in the other, thumbs lightly touching. If placing your hands on your knees is more comfortable, do that.

Eyes — Keep them slightly open, gaze dropping naturally to the floor. Closed eyes tend to pull your mind into thoughts and dreams. Half-open eyes keep you in the room.

Face — Relax the jaw, mouth, and tongue.

Meditate for however long you can sustain daily — 10 minutes if that's honest, 5 if it isn't. Start where you are, not where you think you should be. Then do it.

Progression — After two weeks of consistency, add five minutes. Work toward one to two hours a day — broken up if needed. The deeper you want to see, the more you must give.

Time of day — Morning works for most — before the identities start piling up. But the best time is the one you'll actually keep.

Timer — Use whatever you have. Once you start, don't check the time again until the alarm sounds. Those urges to look — notice them, and come back to the breath.

If you miss a day — no problem. Just sit tomorrow.

On boredom — No doubt, you'll get bored. But only because you've been avoiding your own company for so long. Sit with it. Look at it directly. What is it, exactly?

On restlessness — The urge to get up, to move, to do anything but sit — that's not an obstacle to the practice. That's the practice. It's the same reaching you came here to see. Sit with it. Where does it live in the body? What does it want? Don't resolve it. Look at it.

On pain — Some discomfort is normal: the body is not used to sitting still with an engaged, upright posture. Try your best to be with it, not push through it. That said, if the pain is sharp or worsening: move, adjust, use a chair. Take care of your body.

On itching — Notice and come back to the breath. If your mind won't let go, lean in. Where is it, exactly? What is its texture? Watch it closely. It will change. It will pass. Not as a concept. Right there on your skin.

On drowsiness — Splash some cold water on your face. Drink some coffee or tea. Treat it like anything else you take seriously.

On sound — Many of us live in busy places: the noise of traffic, babies, a TV through the wall. Let it be there. Sound is as much a part of the practice as the breath. If you find yourself judging a sound — notice it, and return to the breath.

On getting it right — Am I focused enough? Is this working? That's the self, finding its way onto the cushion — trying to be. Notice it. It's no different from any other thought. Come back to the breath.

On seeing — Whatever you think you'll see, it's not it. Whoever you think you are, that's not it either. Just fantasies created by the mind. What you eventually see is beyond thought. Best to understand that now.

If something does open — you still need to deal with whatever you're carrying. The seeing doesn't fix it. It simply gives you the wisdom to see through it faster. Honesty is the entire path.

No matter where you are on the path — just show up as yourself. That's the only real thing.

On seeking — Maybe you've seen into who you are. Maybe you haven't. Either way — let it go. You can't chase yourself. You're already yourself. Just sit.

Give all of your attention to the breath.

The full instruction — the start, the middle, and the end — lives with The Breath.

1. Adjust posture
2. Set your intention
3. Start timer
4. Give all of your attention to breathing
5. Mind gets lost
6. Notice
7. Return to step 4

Optional: After noticing, acknowledge it — a small nod, a smile. It helps to be kind.

Repeat until the timer ends

When you rise. Do what you need to do — without getting lost in thought.

You have everything you need.
Stop reading. And sit for five minutes.