Published: 15.01.2026
Today I meditated for 46 minutes, which is technically my longest session so far, even if it is only a minute longer than yesterday. Still, it feels like progressive overload in a very literal sense. I just need to keep increasing the duration slowly and steadily over the next few weeks, and at some point I will reach an hour.
That is really all this feels like right now. Practice. I am training my brain to see this as something natural rather than effortful. I am just getting my reps in. I completed today’s session while lying in bed. Most of my attention went into noticing when I drifted away from the intention of being present. In these sessions, presence usually means either staying with my breath or being deeply aware of my surroundings, noticing the subtle sensations my body and mind receive as input. And as I’ve said before, it is incredibly hard to stay present for long. The moment I realise that I have drifted and try to return, I feel a slight unease or resistance, almost as if my mind does not want to disengage from whatever it was doing. Then, for a brief instant, I catch a glimpse of what feels like a no-mind state. It is quiet and expansive. Almost immediately after, something internal or external pulls me out of it again. Lately, I have been wondering what it actually means to be present. Is presence the no-mind state itself? Or is it simply being deeply aware of what is happening? I think when people talk about presence, they are often pointing to one of two things:
- The first is what I think of as cognitive presence.
This is when you are aware of what is happening without being lost in stories about it. Sensations, sounds, and even thoughts are still there, but they are anchored in the present moment rather than pulling you into memory or anticipation. The mind is active, but it is oriented toward what is happening right now. For example, you might hear a bird chirping, feel the air on your skin, or notice the rhythm of your breath. A thought may arise, like recognising the coolness of air, but it does not spiral into anything else. You notice it and stay where you are.
- The second is what I call non-conceptual presence, or the no-mind state.
Here, even the subtle mental commentary drops away. Awareness is still there, but it is no longer labeling, analysing, or narrating experience. There is no effort to stay present, and no sense of watching oneself be present. There is just experience, without observational thoughts layered on top of it. There is no inner dialogue describing what is happening, and no sense of trying to hold onto the awareness itself. It feels like stillness, not because nothing is happening, but because nothing is being interpreted.
What makes it hard to remain outside the mind is that the senses do not need any consent to be in use and continuously transmit information to the brain. The moment the senses are involved, they trigger mental activity, which creates thoughts. Those thoughts may still be about the present moment, but they are thoughts nonetheless. In that sense, the tendency to keep the mind engaged is not a personal failure, but something deeply embedded in our biology.