While chatting with a life coach friend recently about doing things that scare us, she said something that stuck with me:
“You’d be surprised how terrifying it is for people to take just five minutes a day to sit in silence.”
She wasn’t talking about climbing Everest or public speaking—just sitting. She explained that for many of her clients, those five minutes bring up all the “stuff”: fears, doubts, guilt, even shame for daring to spend a moment on ourselves instead of everything else we’re juggling.
Sound familiar? It did to me.
My First Introduction to Meditation
My own first introduction to the challenge of ‘sitting still’ was an all-in leap at an ashram in Pune, India. Up until that point, I had never meditated a minute in my life. “Spirituality” was a fluff term, and a week of meditating at an ashram—breathing meditations, walking meditations, and even meditations where you danced and screamed (yes, you read that right)—reminded me more of a cult than a healthy practice for mental clarity, calm, and increased awareness of myself and the world around me.
I was in the middle of a solo 3.5-month trip around the world after ending a 14-year relationship. My ex had been cheating on me in epic fashion, and I was emotionally and physically spent. A childhood friend in India suggested the ashram, and with nothing left to lose, I figured, why not?
The ashram itself was both serene and surreal. It was laid out like a small college campus with two main areas. One contained the convenience and attire shop, an auditorium for large group meditations, and dorm housing—single occupancy rooms, no TVs, no internet – they looked like something you’d see nuns or monks stay in on TV, but with their own modern bathrooms.
The other side housed smaller meditation halls, outdoor spaces, a library, and even a tiny gym. There were a few treadmills, a sauna, and an elliptical—all under a sign reminding you that even while working out, maroon was the only acceptable color to wear. A maroon moomoo, the same required outfit for everyone on campus, was meant to symbolize equality, simplicity, and a focus on inner growth rather than outward appearance… apparently.
The campus was set within 28 acres of lush greenery. The centerpiece was a massive swimming pool—freezing cold, with leaves and debris floating on the surface. It didn’t stop me from swimming in it though. The required maroon swimsuit was unflattering on me, but the topless 30-something guy who swam after me? He pulled off shirtless and maroon trunks like a champ!
Facing Myself for the First Time
I was also the only American there. Apparently, there’s a stigma. The orientation leader seemed surprised I was staying a full week. “Americans usually come for the day,” he said, looking me up and down.
“Well,” I replied, adding the word ‘dick’ under my breath, “guess I’m full of surprises.”
The first night, I skipped the evening meditation and ate alone outside the kitchen on a plastic chair. Back in my room, the realization of what I had just signed up for hit me hard.
No distractions, no tasks, no one to talk to—just me, my thoughts, and too much time.
I lost it.
I sobbed hysterically—the kind of crying that leaves you gasping for air. After a good hour or two, though, I finally snapped out of it and realized something:
I’d chosen to be here.
Somewhere deep down, I knew I needed to slow down, to face myself, to rest. My life had been an endless cycle of fight or flight, constantly running on adrenaline. I needed this time to let my body and mind heal before I truly broke. For myself and for the people I loved, I needed to listen to what I needed. And I needed to reconnect with myself.
What Happened Next
I decided to face this “uncomfortable” experience and let all my own judgment, guilt, insecurity, and skepticism about it go.
The next morning, I showed up for the 6 a.m. large group meditation. I started with 15 minutes of blowing air in and out of my nose as hard as I could, then I screamed, cried, and “released the stuff that needed to get out” for another 15 minutes. Then came the chanting and jumping in place, freezing in silence, and finally, dancing with my eyes closed.
It was freaking bizarre.
And I loved it.
There were “classes” running all day—from the first meditation at 6 a.m. to the last session ending at 8:30 p.m. You could choose what to attend. Over the week, I managed an average of about 4-6 hours of meditation a day. The rest of the time, I read voraciously about mindfulness, meditation techniques, and how they could help you connect with yourself and the world around you. I even learned about finding sexual freedom through meditation. So… (only to follow along with the curriculum of course), I masturbated later that night in my room. Sadly, ‘Maroon trunks guy’ was already taken.
The Epiphany
Each day and each meditation allowed me more space and more time to listen and discover ‘myself’. On the fourth day, during a silent meditation, my mind began to wander, and I let myself explore those thoughts.
That’s when it hit me. Boom!
My ex hadn’t just cheated on me for the last nine months—he’d been unfaithful our entire relationship! I can’t explain how I knew that—a few strange occurrences I recalled, some repressed memories—but in my gut, I knew it was true.
That moment was heartbreaking. Tears streamed out of my closed eyes as I sat there among 20 other silent meditation students. Funny enough though, I didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment, I felt… free.
I’d been ignoring my own truths for years! I had been burying my intuition under busyness and distractions. I had been avoiding the stillness not only because I lived a life that valued ’go go go’, but also because it allowed me to avoid the uncomfortable truths, fears, and pain I couldn’t face.
There was in fact a deep wisdom inside of me—an inner knowing – one had I stopped and listened to earlier, might have allowed me to avoid all this pain.
If only I just fought through the discomfort of slowing down, the guilt of stopping and the fear of what I might find. How different – better – could my life be?
The Challenge
Even now, I still resist sitting down to meditate. It makes me anxious to interrupt my ‘go, go, go,’ and it’s scary to face my own thoughts, truths, and fears. But like that first time, I often find incredible wisdom there.
I remember things I’d forgotten, find clarity on decisions I’ve been agonizing over, and discover small changes that can make my life easier and happier. I reconnect with myself in a way that feels loving and affirming, as though I’m never truly alone. Some describe this as finding connection with the universe or ‘God’.
As a woman, and particularly for those of us navigating life on our own, these are gifts that are priceless. Aren’t they worth the cost of the 5 minutes of “unproductivity” and the courage it takes to sit down and do it?
So, why don’t we…
It’s uncomfortable. Sitting still can feel like wasted time, and the idea of facing our own thoughts, fears, and truths is downright terrifying. But that discomfort is temporary. What’s on the other side is worth it.
It’s about learning to trust yourself—tapping into the deep wisdom inside you that already knows what’s best. It’s about calming the chaos, finding healing, and reconnecting with the part of you that’s been drowned out by the noise and busyness of life. Just five minutes can create a space where clarity emerges, answers to nagging questions become obvious, and solutions or forgotten reminders surface from beneath the “go, go, go.” If nothing else it just might be a moment to finally catch your breath.
For every woman juggling a million priorities, or for those of us navigating life on our own, these moments of calm and clarity can be the difference between just surviving and truly thriving.
So, I say to you—while reminding myself—start small. Five minutes. No expectations.
Just sit, breathe, and see what happens.
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