Until recently, I thought meditation was strictly for bearded swamis, unwashed hippies, and pan flute enthusiasts. And since my attention span rivals that of a caffeinated squirrel, I figured I was automatically disqualified.

Add to that the constant buzzing, looping, and fizzing of my thoughts — and the idea of “clearing my mind” felt about as realistic as clearing my inbox.

So I did what I’ve always done: ruminated. Envisioning the worst possible outcome for any situation. Over. And over. And over again. Like poking a bruise just to check if it still hurts. (Spoiler: it always did.)

Example: between hormonal whiplash, stress at work, and middle-of-the-night insomnia parties, my brain already feels like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Who has the time (or the silence) for meditation

Stress: The “This Moment Isn’t Good Enough” Syndrome

Eckhart Tolle once wrote:

“Make the present moment your friend, instead of an enemy or obstacle that you need to overcome in order to get to the next moment.”

That’s stress in a nutshell: living your life like a waiting room, foot tapping, convinced happiness is around the corner: the next vacation, the next milestone, the next Amazon delivery.

And I’ll be honest: I’ve lived a lot of my life in that waiting room. (Though at least there were snacks.)

Hedonic Hamsters on a Wheel

Psychologists call it hedonic adaptation; that thing where the shiny new thing fades fast, and we’re already chasing the next fix.

As Mark Manson bluntly puts it:

“Who you are is defined by what you’re willing to struggle for.”

The pleasures fade; the real stuff (peace, presence, purpose) takes practice.

Turns out, money can’t buy happiness… but it can buy wrinkle cream. Which my daughter assures me “isn’t working.” (See Convos with T & H, Episode 27.)

Homo Sapiens Sapiens: The Animal That Knows It Thinks

We humans aren’t just the ones who think — we’re the ones who know we think.

Blessing and curse.

The problem? Most of us never stop to actually look at our minds.

Dan Harris (of 10% Happier) nails it:

“Until we look at our minds, we don’t really know what our lives are really about.”

It’s wild. Every joy, pain, and stress filters through our minds, and yet we rarely stop to see how that filter actually works.

Respond, Don’t React

Meditation isn’t about clearing your mind. It’s about Mind Control.

It’s about noticing. About creating just enough space between stimulus and response to make a choice.

Instead of snapping, spiraling, or worrying, I can pause. Even if it’s just for a deep belly breath. (Yes, the same one Hannah recommended when I lost my patience with her.)

As Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us:

“Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.”

And some days, that’s enough.

My Zenopause Takeaway

Meditation doesn’t require incense, chanting, or a Himalayan retreat. It just requires me, my noisy brain, and about 30 seconds before the next carpool pickup.

Meditation isn’t for swamis exclusively. It’s for exhausted moms in yoga pants, sitting cross-legged on a laundry pile, breathing their way through another hormonal roller coaster.

I’m not aiming for enlightenment. I’m aiming for a little more space in my day, a little more kindness toward myself, and maybe a laugh or two when my thoughts start buzzing like a beehive.

And if that’s all meditation gives me? Honestly? That’s more than enough.