Why Meditation Is Not a Punishment for Me
For many people, meditation immediately evokes a certain image.
Sitting still. A straight back. An empty mind.
The right posture, the right breathing, the right way.
And if it doesn’t work, it can feel like you’re doing something wrong.
For me, it works differently.
Meditation is not a technique to master, but a moment of listening.
Not an attempt to push thoughts away, not a pursuit of emptiness, not a fixed form.
Rather, it is about making space — for whatever arises, exactly as it comes.
What I share here is not a method or a guideline.
It is my experience.
Maybe you’ll recognize something in it.
Maybe you won’t.
And both are perfectly fine.
What meditation is — at least, for me
Meditation is often presented as a directed, almost imagination-free practice.
Sitting upright, preferably in lotus position (still working on that), hands on the knees, thumb and index finger touching. No thoughts — and if they do appear, you’re supposed to send them away. Surrendering to the great nothingness.
For me, that is not meditation, but a punishment.
Thoughts, images and emotions arise naturally. Trying to stop them is unnatural. Pushing them away tends to create tension and imbalance — exactly what meditation is not meant to do. And then there’s the focus on chanting “Om.” Fine if you’re training to be a monk, but most of us aren’t.
For me, meditation is something very different.
It’s sitting comfortably, or reclining on the couch with cushions supporting my back and my legs stretched out — my favorite position. Crystals in my hands. Eyes closed. And then: letting it happen.
When thoughts arise, I observe them without engaging. The same goes for colors, sensations or images. They are allowed to appear and disappear again. You don’t have to do anything with them. Just listen, without answering.
About crystals (and why rules don’t mean much to me)
For me, the number of crystals you use doesn’t matter. According to so-called crystal gurus, you shouldn’t use more than four or five, carefully matched. But my experience is different. You can hold as many stones as you like.
It’s not about an overdose of energy. It works more like a magnet: unconsciously, you connect with exactly the stone — or stones — you need in that moment. Even if you’re holding thirty different kinds, chances are you truly connect with only a few.
The rest work in a supportive, protective or transformative way — helping to shift tension or negative energy into something softer, more bearable.
What works best for me is not deciding in advance which pyramid, rondo or cone to use. I simply pick something, without thinking. Only later do I sometimes wonder why I chose that particular combination. It happens naturally, intuitively.
Intention, grids, and why less is often more
I prefer not to use fixed symbols or patterns, such as crystal grids. To me, they feel restrictive. Energy needs to be free to flow, in all directions. A grid — or even a tightly formulated intention — can limit that movement.
You can receive insights or answers that way, but often they are exactly the answers you want to hear. As if they exist to please you.
If I meditate with an intention, I name it very briefly just before I begin — and then I let it go. I don’t think about it anymore and I don’t direct anything. For me, that’s the only way something real can emerge.
Symbols: imposed versus inner
I don’t like rituals or symbolism imposed from the outside. They feel too constructed, too restrictive, as if they’re meant to bind you to something.
But the symbols that arise spontaneously during meditation are of great value. They are expansive. They clarify something that might feel harsh or raw in words, but through an image becomes softer — easier to carry.
And perhaps that is what meditation ultimately is for me:
not becoming empty,
not forcing stillness,
not controlling —
but creating space to listen to what naturally presents itself.
Meditation is not an exercise in emptiness for me, but a way of being present — exactly where I already am.
And maybe, in the end, meditation is nothing more than this:
needing nothing for a moment, and yet allowing yourself to feel everything.
Also read:
An Image That Returned – About an Old Vision and New Meaning
