One of the things I hear most often from people who join me for meditation in Sedona is some version of this:
“I’m not very good at meditating.”
Usually, what they mean is that they’ve tried sitting still, closing their eyes, and attempting to stop their thoughts. Their mind kept doing what minds do, so they concluded that meditation simply wasn’t for them.
I understand why. We’ve created a surprisingly narrow picture of what meditation is supposed to look like: sitting cross-legged, perfectly still, perhaps repeating a mantra, while the mind becomes blissfully quiet.
That can certainly be meditation.
But it’s only one doorway.
What if meditation is really about paying attention?
As a meditation instructor and the founder of Sedona Meditation Experiences, I’ve spent years guiding visitors with very different levels of experience—from people who meditate regularly to people who are convinced they simply can’t do it. I’ve become much less interested in whether someone is doing meditation “correctly” and much more interested in what helps them become present.
For one person, it may be following the breath.
For another, it’s gazing with a soft focus at Sedona’s red rocks.
Someone else may become completely absorbed in the vibration of a singing bowl, the sensation of wind against their skin, or the changing light on a red-rock wall.
You can practice loving-kindness. Walk a labyrinth. Listen to the sounds around you. Notice sensations in your body. Sit beside a tree. Watch clouds move across the sky.
These practices may look very different from one another, but they share something important: we are intentionally bringing our attention to our experience as it is happening.
That’s a pretty good place to begin.
Sedona offers a lot of doorways
Sedona is particularly good at inviting us to pay attention.
Of course, people come here for the spectacular scenery. But there’s a difference between looking at a beautiful landscape and actually being with it.
In my work, that might mean meditating outdoors among Sedona’s red rocks and birdsong, walking a labyrinth, exploring loving-kindness or chakra meditation, listening to a sound bath, or simply becoming quiet enough to notice what’s happening around you.
Try sitting somewhere for ten minutes without photographing it, identifying it, explaining it, or deciding what you think about it.
Notice the temperature of the air. Listen for the closest sound you can hear, then the farthest. Watch how shadows move across the rocks. Feel the ground beneath you.
You don’t have to decide whether Sedona has special energy. You don’t have to adopt someone else’s spiritual beliefs about the landscape.
You can simply become curious about your own experience of being here.
That curiosity is one of my favorite doorways into meditation.
Sometimes movement works better than stillness
Walking meditation is often a revelation for people who struggle with sitting meditation.
A labyrinth is a wonderful example. Unlike a maze, there’s nothing to figure out. There’s one path leading toward the center and back out again.
That simplicity gives the thinking mind a little less to manage.
You walk. You breathe. You notice.
The same thing can happen on a trail. Instead of treating the hike primarily as a way to reach a viewpoint, experiment with making part of the walk itself the destination. Feel each foot meet the earth. Notice your breathing. Listen. Smell. Feel.
Your mind will wander. Of course it will.
Noticing that it wandered and returning to what’s happening now isn’t a failure of meditation.
That is the practice.
Sound can be meditation, too
Some people find sound to be an easier doorway than silence.
Rather than trying to concentrate, you can simply listen.
A singing bowl, chime, birdsong, wind moving through juniper branches—or even the periods of silence between sounds—can give attention somewhere to rest.
This is one reason I enjoy incorporating sound into some of my meditation experiences. People who arrive convinced that they “can’t meditate” sometimes discover that they can become deeply present when they stop trying so hard to meditate.
There’s a useful lesson in that.
You don't have to empty your mind
Perhaps the most persistent misconception about meditation is that the goal is to stop thinking.
Good luck with that!
Thinking is something the human brain does extraordinarily well. Meditation doesn't require us to shut it down.
Instead, we can learn to notice thoughts without automatically following every one of them.
A thought appears. We notice it. Attention wanders. We notice that too. Then we return—to the breath, our footsteps, a sound, a physical sensation, or whatever we’ve chosen as our anchor.
And then we do it again.
Over time, that simple practice can change our relationship with the constant stream of activity in our minds.
Find your doorway
If traditional seated meditation works beautifully for you, wonderful.
If you find stillness while walking, listening to sounds, watching a sunset, sitting beside a creek, practicing loving-kindness, or quietly observing the natural world, pay attention to that.
You may already have doorways into meditation that you haven’t been calling meditation.
However you tap into stillness and presence, go ahead and include it in your “meditation bucket.” Don’t assume you’re doing it wrong simply because you aren’t sitting in formal meditation or chanting a mantra.
There are many doors into meditation.
The interesting part is discovering which ones open for you.
Author’s Bio
Michele Mattix is the founder of Sedona Meditation Experiences, where she guides small-group and private meditation experiences in Sedona, Arizona. A longtime Sedona resident with a background in geography and earth science, Michele brings a grounded, curious and dogma-free approach to meditation. Her experiences are designed for everyone from complete beginners to longtime meditators who want to connect more deeply with themselves and the Sedona landscape.
URL: https://www.SedonaMeditationExperiences.com
Photos: Michele guiding a women through meditation on the red rocks; Corporate group meditating by Thunder Mountain; Labyrinth at sunset; Michele guiding a small group full moon meditation; headshot of Michele Mattix.
