Starting Over: A Simple Practice for a Busy Mind

As you can tell by my reading log, I have spent a lot of time reading about meditation and Buddhist practice. Through that, I have learned many different meditation techniques, and I have tried all the ones I have learned. Some work well. Others do not do much for me.

Not long ago, I wrote about using metta as a practice to overcome life’s challenges and changes. But honestly, since then, I have not found the most value in those practices. They have their place, but overall, I only pull them out when they feel necessary. I know for many people, especially in the West, this is nearly 100% of their sits, or at least the majority of them.

For me, I find the most fruitful sits are when I sit and breathe.

My mind is busy, and I suffer from anxiety and depression. I know I cannot shut off my mind, but I know I can focus it. I can learn to get myself out of my thoughts and into the present moment.

Breath in, breath out, one.

Breath in, breath out, two.

Breath in, breath out, three.

And I continue this until ten.

If I find I got lost in thought, I start over. If I find I am suddenly counting 11, 12, 13, I am lost in thought as well, and I start again.

When my sits seem to be more focused than others, I can sometimes drop the counting and just repeat in my head, breath in, breath out, or simply, in, out.

For me, the analogies of watching thoughts float by never really landed. I have tried them, and I have tried labeling thoughts. What works better for me is simply noticing and moving on. At most, I might think, “thought,” and continue on, not attaching to it or following it. If I follow it, I start my count over at one and try again.

This focus can sometimes be more necessary if I am near a panic attack or having severe anxiety. For me, I feel anxiety the strongest in my chest. I can feel the pressure of it.

That pressure becomes my focus. I breathe normally, feel the pressure in my chest, and rest my attention there. If I wander into thought, I come back to the feeling of the pressure.

I am not trying to make it go away. I am not pretending it is not there. But when I keep returning to it, it starts to change. It becomes less like anxiety, with all the fear and stories attached to it, and more like a sensation in my body. Pressure. Tightness. Something that is here, but not necessarily something I need to follow.

Eventually, it becomes harder to find. Not because I forced it away, but because it changed, like everything else does. I think this is impermanence in practice. The feeling is real, but it is not fixed. It comes, it changes, and sometimes it fades.

That does not mean meditation makes my anxiety disappear, or that I can always sit with it this way. Sometimes it is too loud, or I am too tired, or I get frustrated that I cannot stay with the breath for more than a few moments. But that is still the practice.

I am not trying to force myself into calm or pretend I am not feeling what I am feeling. I am trying to sit with it without letting it take over everything. To notice it, return to the breath, and begin again.

Maybe that is why this practice has become the most useful one for me. It is simple enough to return to whenever I need it.

Breath in, breath out. One.

And if I get lost, I start over.