Nine things people apologise for in meditation that are actually the point

Every week someone says sorry for crying.

Or for yawning. Or for falling asleep, or fidgeting, or for their mind being “all over the place.” Every week I say the same thing back: congratulations.

Here are the nine apologies I hear most, and why every one of them is a sign it’s working.

1. “Sorry, my mind wouldn’t stop.” It’s not supposed to stop. It’s a mind. The practice isn’t a quiet head — it’s noticing you’ve drifted and coming back, a hundred times. If it drifted a hundred times, you did a hundred reps. That’s a good session.

2. “Sorry, I cried.” Your body has been holding something, and for ten minutes it felt safe enough to let it go. Tears are a release — the emotional equivalent of finally going to the toilet after holding on for years. Nobody apologises for that.

3. “Sorry, I kept yawning.” Yawning is what the body does when it’s letting go. Yawn away. The people who yawn most are usually the ones who’ve been holding on tightest.

4. “Sorry, I fell asleep.” Then your body needed sleep, and this was the first moment all week it felt safe enough to take it. That isn’t a failed session. That’s your body voting.

5. “Sorry, I couldn’t sit still.” Fidget. Rock. Move from the hips with each breath. A body that’s been braced for years doesn’t relax on command, and forcing stillness on it does harm. Move, and come back to the breath while you move.

6. “Sorry, I got angry — at the music, of all things.” Years ago someone told me a drum track I’d played made them irrationally furious. I told them it had done its job. Music brings things up. That’s why we use it.

7. “Sorry, a memory came up and I lost the thread.” Memories come back when your body feels safe enough to carry them. If one arrived, you’d built enough safety for it to. That’s the thread.

8. “Sorry, my hands went hot / my leg buzzed / something twitched.” Hot hands are good. Cold hands are good. Buzzing, tingling, twitching — a body that’s been shut down for years, waking up. Feel it. It won’t hurt you.

9. “Sorry, I didn’t feel anything.” That’s also fine. Some sessions are quiet. Some are chaos. Some are nothing at all. We’re not chasing a feeling — we’re practising being present with whatever’s there, including nothing.

There’s a tenth apology I sometimes hear, and it’s the saddest: “Sorry, I don’t think this is for me.” It’s said by the people who’ve had four of the nine happen in one session and concluded they’d failed. They hadn’t failed. They’d had one of the most productive sits in the room, and nobody had told them what productive looks like.

Notice what all nine have in common. Every one is the body doing something it’s needed to do for a long time, and every one gets apologised for — because somewhere along the way we learned that our bodies were embarrassing, and their signals were bad behaviour.

They aren’t. They never were. Nobody taught you that, and it’s not your fault. But you can stop apologising now.

Every Tuesday I run a live guided session online. People yawn, cry, fidget and fall asleep, and nobody says sorry. Come and try one, and see how you feel afterwards.

— Adam