I’ve always had trouble sitting still. Diagnosed with ADHD at a young age, I’ve spent my life in constant motion—usually with a sensory toy in hand. I’m twirling one of my monkey noodles as I write this. The idea of “doing nothing” felt impossible for me, which made meditation seem out of reach.
My first exposure to meditation came through apps like Headspace and Calm. I’d try a few short guided sessions but never felt any value in them—just boredom and restlessness. They made meditation feel like a performance rather than an experience. I figured I was just one of those people who couldn't do it.
That mindset began to shift during a retreat in 2019 and changed completely in 2022. I signed up for an eight-part virtual seminar with Joe Dispenza—not realizing it was primarily focused on meditation. On day one, he introduced a “mini meditation,” and I gave it my all. I ended up failing to finish—but when I looked at the recording, I realized I had meditated for 12 minutes. That was already the longest I had ever gone.
The full session was 17 minutes. That gap lit a fire in me.
I came back the next day determined not to “lose” again. The meditation was 36 minutes long—three times longer than anything I’d ever done. And I finished it. Somewhere in the middle of that session, after my mind raced endlessly, I found something I had never accessed before: stillness. My body relaxed, my breath slowed, and I felt calm in a way I didn’t know was possible.
From that point forward, I completed the remaining six sessions—each with a long meditation. I started building up to 40, 50, even 60-minute practices. Once I experienced the stillness consciously, everything changed. I realized that meditation isn’t about stopping your thoughts—it’s about not resisting them. If you let them flow, stillness eventually arrives. It always does.
Today, meditation is one of the most important parts of my life. But it’s still the hardest thing I do each day. My mind always gets loudest right before the breakthrough. When I finally surrender, everything goes quiet.
The best advice I can give? Try a session longer than you think you can handle. Trust that stillness will come—and when it does, it will change you. The mind becomes chaotic before it becomes calm.
I’ve also learned that meditation doesn’t always require music or mantras. Sometimes, it’s just three to five minutes of breathing and doing nothing between meetings. That tiny reset can prevent one interaction from bleeding into the next. And in a world full of noise, those few moments of silence are gold.
Also, don’t let anyone tell you what is or isn’t meditation. If you find flow and peace on a walk, during a golf round, or at a baseball game—then that’s meditation for you. For me, it started with a monkey noodle and turned into something I now wouldn’t trade for anything.
Listen to the full story on The Grant Gurtin Show: