Meditation

Good morning, my dudes.

I’ve been thinking a lot about meditation lately—and not in the "sit still and hum" kind of way. I’m talking about the real version. The personal one. The one that actually works for people like me.

Since it’s a Sunday, I’ve decided to write a little bit more than usual. Sunday’s a good day for slowing down and being honest with yourself. No rush, no noise—just presence.

Meditation, for me, doesn’t always look peaceful. It’s not always legs crossed, incense burning, eyes closed with monk-like calm. Sometimes it’s lying flat on the floor, staring at the ceiling like it’s gonna answer back. Sometimes it’s a walk with music. Sometimes it’s just a breath. A pause. A moment to stop reacting and actually feel something.

Meditation, at its core, is me checking in with myself before the world gets too loud again.

That’s the best way for me to function really. Noise. Hassle. Always asking what’s next, always wanting to do the next thing.

BBQ. OH YEAH. I COOKED SOME BBQ YESTERDAY.

That was fun. I loved it. I was in my element. I missed it so much.

I worry a lot, you know? Not in a panicky way. Just... constantly. About people. About plans. About the future. It’s like there’s always a little hum in the background reminding me that I should be doing more, being more, helping more.

Meditation helps quiet that hum. Not silence it completely—but soften it. Enough to breathe. Enough to feel human again.

The best part is, it doesn’t ask anything from me. No performance. No pressure. Just presence. I don’t have to prove anything. I don’t have to fix everything. I just have to show up, and sit with myself for a bit.

And some days, that’s enough. Actually—on the rough days—it’s everything.

BUT LUCKILY TODAY IS A SUNDAY. THE DAY WE GET TO RELAX EVEN MORE. THE LORD'S DAY THEY SAY. I MEAN IT'S IN EVERY RELIGION.

So yeah, I take that seriously. The whole “rest” thing. Doesn’t matter what you believe in—every culture, every religion, every old wise dude with a beard says the same thing: Take one day to chill. To actually chill. Not scroll-until-your-eyes-bleed chill. I mean real, intentional stillness. Whatever that looks like for you.

For me? It's writing this. Talking to you. Talking to myself. Letting thoughts wander a bit without trying to solve the world.

Maybe that’s a form of prayer too—just sitting with yourself and not lying.

We’ve all got time today. You’re probably reading this in bed, or on the toilet (no judgment), or while pretending to watch something on Netflix. That’s fine. But I’m inviting you—gently—to actually be where you are, just for a minute.

Put your phone down after this. Or don’t. But at least think about it.

We spend so much time trying to escape boredom, when maybe boredom is just life patiently waiting for us to notice it again.

I’m not saying throw your phone into the sea. I’m saying look around a bit more. Listen. Breathe. Text a friend with no agenda. Sit in the sun. Sit in the shade. Sit in silence and see what comes up.

You’re allowed to be still. You’re allowed to not be productive. You’re allowed to exist quietly and know that it’s enough.

Because you are enough. To me, at least. You mean something to me. And I appreciate you. All I want out of life is to show appreciation. To everything.

Anyway—

I'm rambling now. But it’s Sunday, so I forgive myself. And maybe you can forgive yourself too, for whatever it is you’re holding onto.

I’ll leave you with this: Take it slow. Take it easy. Take a breath.

Happy Sunday, my dudes.

Love always, Matt