Given the various interpretations of the term meditation, let me begin by defining it clearly. I’ll start by clarifying what meditation is not. The aim of meditation is to achieve an experience of timelessness, which occurs when the mind is devoid of content yet remains aware. In this state, we are fully awake and conscious of pure awareness.
The term “meditation” appears frequently in various contexts, yet its meaning can be elusive. Many meditation practices aim to induce particular mental states rather than accessing the fundamental emptiness of content-free awareness. Achieving this state of pure consciousness—where awareness exists by itself in complete stillness—demands a distinct methodology.
Meditation IS NOT:
…concentration, which involves focusing your attention on a specific object or activity.
…contemplation, where you deliberately ponder ideas or concepts.
…visualization, which requires you to create and manipulate mental images.
…suggestion, where you attempt to influence your physical or mental state through directed thoughts.
If you’ve engaged in any of the activities mentioned earlier and labeled them as meditation, you were actually misusing the term. True meditation is distinctively defined as the gradual quieting of mental processes, ultimately leading to the experience of pure consciousness, with no activity other than self-awareness.
Achieving this state of pure consciousness and the liberating experience of timelessness cannot be done through concentration, contemplation, visualization, or suggestion. These methods involve activity, while meditation is about silencing and stopping all activity.
Here is a crucial understanding of meditation: asking how to do it is misguided if it involves stopping activity! Meditation isn’t something you actively perform; it’s about stopping all actions. While it may seem straightforward, halting activity is indeed the easiest thing imaginable. No special skills, knowledge, or conditions are required—just cease what you’re currently doing, and that’s all. Honestly, this is nearly all that needs to be conveyed! If you can sit quietly and gradually let go of all actions, this process of calming down, or stopping activity, is what we call meditation.
The state that remains after complete mental stillness has countless labels across traditions. Some traditions name it the Self, others the absence of self. Some describe it as fullness, others as emptiness. Some reference yoga, others the divine presence. The label you choose holds little significance—once you’ve reached this state of pure awareness, words fall away. Through this clarification, we’ve lifted one layer of confusion surrounding meditation: at its core, meditation is simply the quieting of mental activity.
Perhaps you’re thinking: “Perfect! Meditation simply means sitting quietly and doing nothing.”
I invite you to experiment with this right now.
Find a comfortable position, close your eyes, and attempt to do absolutely nothing.
What’s happening in your mind? Are you truly able to cease all activity?
Most likely, while your body remains still, your thoughts continue their relentless parade—memories surfacing, plans forming, worries circling, each thought triggering the next in an endless chain that seems impossible to break.
If your mind remains busy despite your attempt to quiet it, you’re not alone. Countless seekers have encountered this paradox: the seemingly simple act of doing nothing proves surprisingly difficult. Logically, ceasing all activity should require no effort—after all, what could be easier than not doing something? Yet when we attempt this with our minds, we discover a curious resistance, as if the mind has its own momentum that defies our intention to still it.
Consider it like this: meditation is an innate process that your mind can perform effortlessly. However, like many inherent processes, it needs nurturing. Simply put, even the most instinctive skills require development and learning. Take walking, for example—it’s natural, yet if animals raised you, never observed adults walking, and were never prompted to walk, you wouldn’t naturally do it. You would need to undergo rehabilitation (or habilitation) to train for this natural skill you missed learning at the appropriate time.
Most of us were raised in environments where meditation was entirely absent. As children, we never heard the word mentioned, never witnessed anyone practicing it, and never received guidance on how to achieve mental stillness. Instead, our upbringing celebrated constant mental engagement. Our developing minds were crammed with facts, figures, and endless information. We learned that success demanded intellectual effort—studying, analyzing, memorizing, planning. From our earliest years through adulthood, every influence in our lives reinforced this need for perpetual mental activity. True cessation of thought—not merely shifting attention to entertainment or leisure, but genuine mental quietude—was never presented as an option, let alone a valuable skill.
Is it any wonder, then, that your mind resists stillness? Do those thoughts continue to swirl like leaves in an autumn gale when you attempt to quiet them? This isn’t a personal failing—it’s the expected outcome of a lifetime spent cultivating mental activity.
Yet here’s the encouraging truth: by finding this book, you’ve discovered what meditation truly is—the gentle quieting of mental processes. Even if you haven’t yet experienced the profound stillness of pure awareness, take heart. This natural human capacity remains intact within you, merely waiting to be awakened. Like any dormant skill, meditation can be developed with proper guidance.
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Chapter from the book “Synchronicity – The Wholeness Awakening”.
Read previous chapter: “The Origin of Meditation”.
Read next chapter: “Integral meditation”
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