The Space Between the Noise

When most people think of meditation, they imagine someone sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, palms up, fingers pressed together in a symbolic pose. And for many, that’s where the idea ends—something exotic, spiritual, maybe even performative.

But real meditation isn’t about looking the part. It’s about quieting the noise. It’s about removing the distractions of life—not just the external ones, but the internal chatter that keeps us from really knowing ourselves.

I’ve been meditating since my mid-teens. It started when I was training in martial arts, but over the years, my understanding of meditation has changed. Evolved. I’ve tried dozens of styles—candle gazing, breathwork, fixed-point focus, even staring at a nail in the wall—trying to “control” my thoughts.

But here’s the truth I eventually discovered:

The point of meditation is not to control the mind. It’s to watch it.

Because even trying to control your thoughts is just another distraction. You end up thinking about not thinking. And that defeats the purpose.

What changed everything for me was when I stopped resisting the thoughts that came up—and started letting them rise. That’s when the healing began.

See, we think we’ve dealt with our issues because we’ve survived the day. But most of what drives us isn’t conscious at all. It’s buried. Deep. Under stress, routine, memory, pain, expectations. And as long as we’re busy, distracted, entertained, or numbed out—we never give those things room to surface.

But when you sit in stillness—real stillness—and the distractions begin to fade, something else shows up. The mind, stripped of its usual noise, starts bringing things forward. Old wounds. Quiet worries. Unresolved thoughts. And the temptation is to push them away.

Don’t.

That’s your mind trying to heal. Just like a cut on your skin knows how to close and repair without your instruction, your mind—your inner self—has a natural intelligence that begins to do its own work when you stop interrupting it.

That’s meditation. It’s not magic. It’s not religion. It’s healing. It's alignment. It’s the quiet work of clearing out the clutter so you can finally hear yourself think.

And it doesn’t always have to happen in silence.

Some of my deepest meditations happen during my daily martial arts cardio. A 40-minute workout—1,000 punches, 900 kicks—done so often it’s become second nature. I don’t have to think about the movements anymore. That opens a space for thought to rise. And it does. I begin to hear myself. My mind starts offering solutions I didn’t know were waiting.

Even prepping my meals in the morning—same order, same rhythm, same flow—becomes a kind of meditation. Repetition breeds stillness. Stillness breeds clarity.

There are walking meditations too. Ever walked just to walk, not thinking, not planning, not talking—just being? That’s meditation. It’s anything that removes the excess and lets the deeper voice rise.

And why is this important?

Because the clarity that comes from meditation changes your life. You make wiser decisions. You don’t react emotionally to everything. You plan better. You function better. You're not just surviving—you’re aware. You’re present.

Success, peace, even prosperity—they don’t come from just hustle or strategy. They come from clarity. And clarity comes when you create space for it.

So meditate.

Not because it’s trendy. But because your mind deserves peace. Your life deserves order. And your purpose deserves a clear path.

Meditation isn't about escaping life. It’s about finally stepping into it—with both eyes open and a quiet heart ready to listen.

Peace.