I remember the first time I tried to meditate outside the serene silence of a retreat. It was 2016, and I had just returned from a week-long Silent Retreat at Spirit Rock Meditation Center, drawn thereafter devouring 10% Happier in a desperate attempt to quiet the relentless noise of PTSD. The days of that week had been some of the most challenging of my life—sitting in the raw discomfort of my mind, stripped of distractions.

But then, on the fifth day, something shifted. I entered a state of profound stillness and bliss—a place where my fractured mind felt whole. For the first time in my life, I experienced an indescribable sense of peace and oneness.

When I returned home, I longed to replicate that experience. But meditation in the real world? It felt impossible. Without the cocoon of silence, my mind refused to cooperate. Thoughts ricocheted like a chaotic storm, leaving me frustrated and defeated. Each time I closed my eyes, I wondered if I would ever find that elusive stillness again.

That longing is what kept me coming back to the mat, even when it felt pointless. Something inside me—a quiet, persistent knowing—urged me to keep going. Transformation, after all, isn’t a single moment of revelation. It’s a process, often messy, and rarely linear.

When I left my corporate job for the first time in 2018, I committed to diving deeper into my healing journey. I enrolled in yoga teacher training and a writing apprenticeship. It was during the writing apprenticeship with Elephant Journal, that I discovered a meditation technique taught by Chögyam Trungpa. His approach invited meditators to keep their eyes open, focusing on a single point.

For someone like me—navigating the challenges of PTSD—this was revolutionary. Closing my eyes often triggered anxiety, but this open-eyed practice created a sense of safety. It was a reminder that meditation doesn’t have to fit into a single mold.

Meditation Beyond the Mold

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that meditation isn’t about achieving a perfectly silent mind. For many of us—especially those of us who are neurodivergent or healing from trauma—traditional forms of meditation can feel inaccessible. And that’s okay. The heart of meditation isn’t about how you do it; it’s about showing up for yourself, however that looks.

If you’ve ever felt like meditation is too hard, too frustrating, or just not for you, try expanding your definition of what meditation can be. Here are some practices that have helped me reconnect when the traditional route felt impossible:

1. Yoga Nidra
   Instead of resisting your thoughts, invite them in. Yoga Nidra—a deeply restorative practice done lying down—allows you to observe your thoughts with curiosity and compassion.
2. Mindfulness Through the Senses
   Anchor yourself in the present moment by engaging your senses. What do you hear? Smell? Taste? Feel? See? Let each sense guide you back to the now.
3. Single Point of Focus
   Choose a single object—a candle flame, a flower, or even your own breath—and let it become your anchor. Each time your mind wanders, gently bring it back.
4. Breathwork
   On days when my “monkey mind” feels particularly wild, breathwork becomes my sanctuary. Practices like Alternate Nostril Breathing, Breath of Joy, or Box Breathing can help regulate the nervous system and quiet the mind.
5. Meditative Movement
   Sometimes stillness isn’t the answer. Flow through a series of gentle yoga poses, take a mindful walk in nature, or dance freely in your living room. Movement can be a meditation in itself.
6. Creative Expression
   Art can be profoundly meditative. Create a mandala, doodle mindfully, or work with your hands—anything that allows you to immerse yourself in the flow of creation.
7. Grace and Compassion
   Most importantly, give yourself grace. Meditation is a practice, not a performance. Some days will feel easy; others, impossibly hard. Both are equally valid.

The Transformational Power of Commitment

Looking back, I realize that my most profound growth didn’t happen on the days when meditation felt effortless. It happened on the days when sitting with myself felt impossible—but I showed up anyway. Each time I chose to return to my practice, I was reaffirming my commitment to my own healing and transformation.

I believe that true transformation begins when you meet yourself where you are, without judgment or expectation. Meditation isn’t about perfection; it’s about cultivating trust in yourself and your journey. It’s about creating space within to reconnect with your inner wisdom, even on the hard days.

So, if meditation feels hard right now, know that you’re not alone. Let go of the need to “get it right” and instead focus on showing up. Because sometimes, simply showing up is the most transformative act of all.