When Meditation Doesn’t Work

Here’s one question I hear all the time:

“Jason, I feel like the meditation practice I’m doing isn’t working. I haven’t reached that state of clarity and calmness. Am I doing something wrong?”

If you've ever felt this way—especially when starting out, or even after years of practice—you’re not alone. It’s a common experience.

And here’s where I might surprise you: Meditation doesn’t do anything.

Now, please—hear me out before you stop reading or blow up the comment section.

What I mean is this: meditation itself doesn’t “do” anything to you. It’s not some external force fixing your problems. You are the one doing something. Meditation is simply the space where that happens.

Often, when I give people meditation instruction, they come back a week or two later saying:

“Jason, I think I’m doing something wrong. I’m thinking more than ever!”

And my response is:

“You’re not thinking more—you’re just finally noticing your thoughts.”

Meditation is like a mirror. It reflects your mind as it is. And that’s not always easy. Sometimes we see things we’ve spent a long time avoiding—the past, or the future, negative thoughts, buried emotions. But seeing clearly is the first step toward understanding and digesting these experiences.

So no, you’re not doing anything wrong.

In fact, this is a sign that your meditation practice is working. You're starting to become more intimate with your own mind—and that can be unsettling, especially at first.

Here’s what helps:

  • Practice with others. Sitting with a community gives us the courage to look honestly at everything that’s arising in our minds. It can keep you grounded so you’re not being pulled around by your thoughts and feelings.

  • Talk to a teacher. Having someone you trust to share your experiences with can be incredibly valuable. Most often, a teacher has looked into and digested many of these experiences. A teacher can also help you avoid common meditation pitfalls.

Many of us begin meditating because we want something—reduce stress, relief from anxiety, a sense of calm. That’s not a problem. But the problem appears when we cling to those goals. When we do, we’ll always feel like we’re falling short or failing.

One of the core teachings in Buddhism—the Second Noble Truth—points to the dissatisfaction that arises from craving or grasping.

I used to suffer from acid reflux. Maybe you’ve dealt with this too. It’s when stomach acid rises up into your esophagus—very unpleasant. At first, I took medication to relieve the symptoms. It worked for a while, but then I started wondering: Why is this happening in the first place?

Turns out, the issue wasn’t too much acid—but too little. The medication was reducing my stomach acid even more, which made the problem worse over time.

And that’s just like meditation.

We start out trying to relieve symptoms—stress, anxiety, restlessness. But eventually, we have to investigate deeper. We start asking:

Where is this suffering coming from? What’s at the root of it all?

This is why I say meditation doesn’t “do” anything—it doesn’t fix us. It helps us see clearly. And once we do, we can begin to understand and digest what’s really going on.

Some of you might have attended my Platform Sutra workshop. We talked about Hui Neng, the Sixth Ancestor of Zen. He was illiterate. He wasn’t even a monk—he was a layperson. And here’s the kicker: he never sat meditation.

And yet, he realized his enlightened nature and received Dharma transmission.

What does that tell us?

Enlightenment isn’t something we get from meditation. It’s something we already are. Meditation simply helps us wake up to that truth.

Of course, I’m not saying meditation isn’t important—it is. It helps us see through delusion, anchors us in the present moment, and reminds us to continue meditating throughout the day. But it’s a tool, not the goal.

In Zen, we say:

When you eat, just eat. When you walk, just walk. When you sit, just sit.

In that moment, there’s no separation. No meditation technique. No seeker and sought. Just this moment, fully lived.

So don’t rely on meditation to “do” something for you. Rely on this moment.

And what does that really mean?

Right now, I am typing on the keyboard, creating this post.

(Yes—even this moment is a moment of awakening.)

Those are my thoughts for today. Let me know in the comments if this was helpful. And as always, if you have questions about Zen, meditation, practice—or just life—drop them below.