The Meditation Myth: There's No One Right Way

Feeling Sound — Episode 4

Finding a Meditation Technique That Works for You

Hello! Another beautiful spring evening here in the Peak District — the sun is just lingering over the moors, that wonderful rusty-brown heather that turns to purple in August. From up here you can see Manchester in the distance, and it reminds me of where this whole journey really began.

I used to work at the BBC — a journalist on shift, covering everything from music and drama to farming programmes and breaking news. It was full-on, and one of the things I was genuinely not very good at was resting. Lunch breaks weren't a priority. Sleep wasn't great either. After ten years of that, I really started to struggle — mentally, physically and emotionally. And so I began looking for ways to cope.

I tried meditation. I went on a couple of courses at a local Buddhist centre — but not being particularly religious, it didn't quite click. I tried some apps, stuck with them for a few days, but nothing seemed to stick. They also felt quite rigid and inflexible. Eventually I settled on the Headspace app and made a slightly mad commitment: 1,000 days of meditation. When I'm in, I'm in. I'd read that regular practice was what would make the real difference, and so that's what I did.

In those 1,000 days, I never once meditated for more than ten minutes. Some days it was just two or three. But it was the consistency that mattered, and I got there — just over 1,000 days, squeezed in wherever I could.

What I felt was missing, though, was something more personal. Having someone guide me through a meditation was fine, but it didn't feel very creative or flexible. I started to realise that what I needed in the evening when I couldn't sleep was probably quite different to what I needed at midday when I was struggling to focus. I also noticed that meditating with my eyes closed often led me straight into thinking rather than actually meditating. Something wasn't quite fitting — I just wasn't sure what.

Over the following years, as I moved more into sound baths, yoga and breathwork, I eventually trained as a meditation teacher with the British School of Meditation. Brilliant trainers — the course was incredibly thorough. But what it did for me personally, as much as professionally, was open up my own practice completely. It introduced me to ten different meditation techniques: some involving movement, some involving touch, some using phrases or sounds, some with roots in Buddhism or Zen, and some in simple, silent stillness. There was walking meditation, zazen, loving kindness practice, contemplation, mindfulness of sound — a whole landscape I hadn't known existed.

That training made me think about how I could bring this into my work — helping people find two, three or four techniques they could genuinely rotate through depending on what they needed and when. Not one-size-fits-all. Something personal.

In the sessions I hold — whether one-to-one or in groups — I guide people through these different techniques from a beginner's perspective, helping them explore what fits and slowly build a regular practice. And one of the things I think doesn't get talked about enough is what to do when you hit a hurdle. Because you will. Everyone does.

A few things I explore with people: firstly, what time of day works for you? It's worth experimenting. One practice I started recently was taking a couple of minutes in my car before I switched on the ignition — a gentle breathing meditation before I drove anywhere. It meant I'd properly closed the chapter of whatever I'd just been doing, and was actually present while driving rather than mentally still wherever I'd just been.

Secondly, posture. There's this persistent idea that you have to sit cross-legged on the floor to meditate properly. You really don't. Some techniques do suit a more formal posture, but mostly it's about being comfortable and adapting as you go. And walking meditation is a wonderful example — simply paying attention to each step, noticing the feel of your feet on the ground, focusing on the act of walking itself rather than whatever's waiting for you at home. That kind of present-moment attention is meditation. I do it on almost every walk — just usually without recording a podcast at the same time.

One technique that genuinely transformed my personal practice was contemplation — specifically external contemplation, where you use a physical object as a point of focus. It could be a pebble, a leaf, a crystal, something soft — anything nearby that feels neutral or pleasant. The idea is to engage your senses with that object: its texture, weight, temperature, shape. It gives your attention somewhere to land that isn't the noise of everyday life, creating a genuine mental break. And when you come back to whatever was stressing you, you often find you can see it slightly differently.

What I hadn't anticipated was how powerful touch would be as part of this. Holding something in my hand, rubbing it between my fingertips, tracing the outline of my palm with an object — the soothing effect was remarkable. We know touch activates the parasympathetic nervous system. We feel it in a hug, in holding someone's hand, in being held. But I hadn't applied that to solo meditation practice, and it was a revelation. It's a technique I come back to again and again.

Contemplation can also deepen over time into working with koans — phrases or questions to sit with and let meaning arise from, rather than think through analytically. But that's a more advanced layer. The simple act of holding an object and being present with it is more than enough to begin.

What I love most about having this breadth of techniques available is that it opens meditation up to people who've assumed it simply isn't for them. I work with a lot of people with ADHD, for whom sitting still in silence feels impossible. But introduce movement — a gentle, slow sway — or give them something to hold and touch, and suddenly there's a way in. That's not a workaround. That's a completely legitimate form of meditation. The goal is focusing attention, and there are many paths to the same place.

So if you've tried meditation before and it didn't stick, I'd gently invite you to consider that you might not have found your technique yet. The app you tried, the guided recording, the cross-legged silence — that might just not be your way. And that's completely fine.

If you'd like to explore some of these techniques together — whether in a group session, one-to-one, or online if you're not based in the Peak District or Manchester area — I'd love to hear from you. Come and share what's worked, what hasn't, and what you're curious about. Find me at feelingsound.co

Until then — keep being curious. I hope you find your moment to rest today. See you soon.