2026-08-25 - Living Letters - 22,000 Minutes Later, I’m Still in My Head
Transcript:
I’m in this really beautiful season of meditation.
And I say “season” because I go through seasons when I don’t really meditate, and seasons when I’m really into it. Right now, I’m in a season of being deeply committed to my meditation practice.
Today marks—let me see here—147 days in a row that I’ve meditated.
Yay. Yeah, I know.
I’ve been reflecting on my meditation practice. I started meditating in 2015, so it’s been about 11 years. And I think I had an experience that maybe at least half of people don’t have: the first time I sat in meditation, I absolutely loved it.
It felt so good to finally focus on my breath and sit in stillness.
I think my first meditation was around 15 minutes. I remember coming out of it feeling alive—like I had just discovered a new skill.
Over the years, my practice has fluctuated. There have been seasons when I was intensely committed to it and seasons when I wasn’t. Right now, I’m in a season where I’m really into it.
I became curious about how many hours—or minutes—I’ve logged. Some of these apps tell you how many minutes you’ve sat.
I used to use Headspace a lot. Then I got really tired of Andy’s voice, so I moved on to Insight Timer. I really liked having a timer and not being guided through the meditation.
Between Headspace and Insight Timer, I’ve logged over 22,000 minutes.
And that doesn’t include meditations I’ve done on retreats, the meditations Jerry and I do together every evening, or the random meditations I’ve done when I simply needed to sit and be still.
None of that is included.
But I’ve logged more than 22,000 minutes.
Is that right? I’m just trying to remember here.
Yeah, 22,000 minutes.
There’s that saying: Get your 10,000 minutes in and you’re an expert.
The funny thing about logging more than 20,000 minutes of meditation is that even today, 11 years into my practice, I’m in my head for 90% of it.
I’m in thought.
I am thinking 90% of the time.
When I first started meditating, that incessant recalling back to myself used to frustrate me. Andy would say something like, “If you’ve been distracted by thought, come back to yourself.”
That constant pattern of disappearing into my thoughts, getting distracted, and having to return used to frustrate me.
Today, I think it’s actually really lovely.
Because what it means is that for 10% of my practice, I am focusing on myself.
I’m focusing on stillness, my presence, and my breath. I’m focusing on how my body feels.
And that 10%, compounded over many years, becomes the skill of being able to come back to myself in the moments when I’ve dissociated or become distracted.
I’m really loving my practice right now.
Just a little side note: I’m working my way up to sitting for 60 minutes straight. I’ve never done that before. The longest I’ve ever sat was 45 minutes, and that was a few years ago.
Recently, I worked my way up to 30 minutes. I sat for 30 minutes for a while, and eventually, that became not enough for me.
Over the last month and a half or so, I’ve been increasing my morning meditation practice by one minute at a time.
Right now, I’m up to about 45 or 46 minutes of sitting. Tomorrow will be another 45 or 46 minutes.
And I’m really proud of that.
Being able to sit in stillness for 45 minutes is an accomplishment—even if, for 90% of those 45 minutes, I’m wrapped up in thought.
I keep sitting every day.
Or maybe a better way to put it is that I keep returning to the practice after seasons of not being in the practice.
I return because I find a lot of pleasure in being with myself. In being with my thoughts. In being with my presence.
Even when those thoughts are unproductive. Even when they’re vengeful or I’m ruminating on things that don’t serve me.
The very act of coming back to myself is what supports me.
It supports my marriage.
It supports my overall well-being.
It supports my physical and emotional health.
And it supports me in living my life more slowly, with so much more presence.
So, if you don’t have a meditation practice—or maybe you once had a meditation practice—perhaps this is a little encouragement to come back to it.
You’re probably never going to reach a Tibetan monk’s level of meditation.
I’m probably not going to reach a Tibetan monk’s skill level, where I experience transcendence in my meditations.
Probably not.
But I do it because it builds my capacity for more presence in my life.
Sending you so much love.
