But I have a very busy mind. And there were times when I tried to meditate, and it actually felt painful, sitting in no-thought.

I also have a busy life. I enjoy my life thoroughly, but work and children and spouse and friends all add up to days when I feel like an additional 24 hours just might do the trick.

I look back now, and while it might not have been the smoothest road, I have definitely managed to craft a meditation practice that fits me perfectly.

That uniqueness is the key, I think.

So if you’ve been struggling to add meditation to your daily life, here are seven tips that you might find helpful:

1. It won’t happen until you’re ready to commit to it.

This may sound funny, if you’ve been feeling like you’ve been wanting a meditation practice for ages. But ask yourself, am I really ready for this? Am I ready to truly make a commitment?

You’ll know when you are. And when you ARE ready, you’ll find yourself thinking about meditating and looking forward to meditating, and easily finding opportunities to meditate.

2. A practice doesn’t have to be “same time, same place”.

This was my main obstacle all those years I tried to meditate regularly. I run my own business, I help my husband out with his, and I have three children. Flexibility is the principle that gets me through my days.

Targeting a specific time, a specific place, was simply not doable.

It wasn’t until I realized that I didn’t HAVE to mediitate “same time, same place”, that I actually was able to develop a meditation practice, one that was unique to me.

3. Ten minutes is perfect. So is twenty minutes. Or thirty.

This might sound like heresy, but I actually set as my target fifteen minutes of meditation. A mere fifteen minutes.

It’s a length of time that works for me.

And there are lots of days when I fall short of my goal. But if I have spent any moments at all in meditation, I’m happy. It’s the fact of actually sitting myself down, and quieting my mind, that has huge benefits for me, and if on some days I can only manage to meditate for ten (or even five!) minutes, it’s so much better than not having meditated at all.

4. Don’t beat yourself up about having lots of thoughts while you’re meditating.

Those thoughts are going to come up. It’s what your mind’s been trained to do.

And during meditation, you’re gently training your mind to take a rest.

But there’s a reason why they call it a practice. So every time a thought surfaces, know that you are fulfilling the purpose of a “practice” as you push the thought away.

5. You can miss a day. Or two. Or more.

Adhering to hard and fast rules might work for some people, but such an approach has never worked for me. As I mentioned, flexibility is the key principle in my life. And if I happen to have a day, or even days, when I find meditation elusive, it’s okay.

I don’t worry about it. I’ve made a commitment to a meditation practice, after all, and the strength of that commitment is still there. If I miss a day, I just make a point of intending to have the time to meditate the next day.

6. The ideal environment can be a less than ideal environment.

When you think of meditation, do you think of a cool green room, an open window, a breeze flowing in, and the sounds of silence as you listen to your breathing?

I love it when I find myself in that kind of an environment. But in the reality of my daily life, it doesn’t happen that often. I’ve learned to take my meditation time whereever the opportunity arises.

I figure, if I can quiet my mind even when there are kids having a rollicking good time in the room next to me, I’ve really accomplished a lot.

7. You can always find the time.

I know I said that it’s okay to miss a day (point #5). And it IS okay. But the key to developing a unique meditation practice is to know, with a deep certainty, that you can always find the time.

Point #3 comes in handy when you’re just beginning to develop this awareness. But eventually, if you remain flexible, and alert to periods of time in your day that hold meditation potential, you’ll find that you, too, have a deep knowing, that you will always find the time.

You’re meditating, and that’s what counts

Think of yourself as having a “meditation muscle”. Every time you meditate, no matter how long, no matter where you are, you’re exercising this muscle. The more you exercise it, the easier it becomes.

I do look forward to a future time in my life when I’ll have that soothing green meditation room, and a set time every day where I get to slip away to this calm oasis and quiet my mind.

Until then, though, I’m enjoying my own unique practice very much.

I came to understand that receiving is as important as giving, otherwise no gift would ever find its home. The receiver has an important part in the process. It takes grace to say, “Yes, I would love that,” or “That would be wonderful, thank you.” It implies that you believe you are worth getting whatever it is that is being offered.

This really got me thinking today. When I give, I do it as much for me as I do for the person to whom I’m giving. I get great pleasure from giving - it’s what makes holidays and other people’s birthdays so much fun for me.

So how am I at receiving? Because, really, when I’m giving, part of the pleasure that I get comes from the reaction of the recipient.

And when I look at it that way, I know that the pleasure I get from receiving is as much a gift to the giver as the actual gift that’s being presented to me.

Giving … AND receiving. It truly is about balance.

Today, my husband and I were talking about what we wanted for our house, which is on the “incomplete” side. I said I’d like to find competent and professional drywallers to finish off our upstairs.

He said he wanted most of all to go through all of our stashes of “stuff” and either put everything away or give it away. Whatever would work to get it all out of sight and bring back the uncluttered look we had before we began our renovations eons ago.

Immediately, a whole lot of resistance surged up in me. It’s taken most of today for me to shake off this resistance.

Now I’m sitting here, preparing to write this post. I reach for the next book in the stack of books that’s next to my desk - Wealth 101, by John-Roger and Peter McWilliams. I have several sections marked off already, but on a whim, I flip open the book, near the back, and come across a section entitled: “Make Room for the New”.

Hmmmm.

Just as we needed to create a container to receive the inner manifestations of wealth, so too we need to make room in our outer environment for the material possessions we plan to receive. We do this by letting go of all the material possessions we are not currently using.

Okay. So I’m really interested now. Not just for the purposes of this post, but for me, for me today, and the resistance I felt earlier.

What are the benefits of letting go of what we are not using?

1. It allows energy to flow from us. Basically, there’s a lot of energy tied up in the things that we no longer use. So when we free up something for someone else to use, we can take back this energy.

2. It starts the energy flowing into us. Letting go is like exhaling, making us ready for a deep breath in.

3. It creates a vacuum. And Nature abhors a vacuum and will seek to fill it.

The Universe … tends not to give freely to hoarders. Energy was not meant to be hoarded, it was meant to be shared. The Universe loves flow. You take something in, use it, appreciate it, feel grateful for it, and let it go. We hand off that object to the next person in line for it, and turn to greet our next experience.

I’m re-examining my resistance with new eyes even as I type this.

The truth is, we all, each of us, can make a difference. It is our individual uniqueness that holds the key for each of us.

As Joan Borysenko and Gordon Dveirin put it, in Saying Yes to Change:

When you do what only you can do - instead of trying to do what other people can do - strange and wonderful things often magnify your vision. It’s as if the road rises up to meet you and circumstances flow together in a mysterious and elegant way, beyond the scope of your own, individual efforts.

There’s a scientific reason why this may be true. In the 1960s, U.S. meteorologist Edward Lorenz was modeling global weather patterns using the largest computers then available for his purpose. He found that the weather sytem was so permanently in a state of chaos, so inherently unpredictable, that if a monarch butterfly in Mexico were to suddenly flap its wings this way or that, the amplifying turbulence could destabilize weather in far-away places like Outer Mongolia. Chaos theorists have come to call this “The Butterfly Effect.”

The fact is, when conditions are right and your guidance is clear, only a slight modification in your attitude or intent can change the world around you.

We can apply the Butterfly Effect to whatever our vision is. Whether our strongest desire is to make a difference, achieve success, become spiritually in tune, or all three, or any other thing that holds our vision, remembering that “when conditions are right and your guidance is clear, only a slight modification in your attitude or intent can change the world around you” can give you the added push onward, help you hold steadfast to your vision, and guide you gently to whereever you’re intending to go.

Every day, go out into your world and do the things that you do best, accepting your own unique gifts, holding fast to your vision and visualizing the ripples of the Butterfly Effect.

When performing household chores, try focusing all of your attention on your hands. While pulling laundry from the washing machine, feel the tension in your fingers as you tug sweatpants, shirts, and shorts free from one another. Feel the cold weight of the sheets as you lift them into the dryer. Notice the sensation of the cool metal dial under your fingertips. If any other thought comes into your mind, such as plans for the day or worries about money or your children, let it go and refocus your attention on your hands.

I came across this passage today, from Mindful Moments for Stressful Days, and found this idea of “moving meditation” through the flow of my hands to be so appealing.

As I am typing this post, I am concentrating on the movement of my fingers, how easily and effortlessly they translate the thoughts in my mind into words on my screen.

Follow your hands.

Whenever I start feeling like I “don’t have the time to meditate”, I will remember this. Follow your hands.

The book covers the a ton of things - everything from success and leadership to happiness.

Today, Chapter 16 caught my eye: “Know Your Genius”:

Genius is not the sole domain of a rare breed of person. Both you and I are entitled to that label and to play in that space - if we so choose. Here’s the big idea: Focus on any area or skill with a relentless devotion to daily improvement and a passion for excellence and within three to five years, you will be operating at a level of competence (and insight) such that people call you a genius. Focus plus daily improvement plus time equals genius. Understand that formula deeply and your life will never be the same.

That’s quite a succinct formula, and as I type this, I’m thinking about where I would like to achieve genius. Or maybe the better question is, what area or skill am I interested in to the extent that I could devote three to five years of my focus?

The key here, I think, is passion. Sharma talks about a passion for excellence, but I really think that you need a passion for the subject itself. Without that passion, it would be so difficult to achieve the formula of “focus plus daily improvement plus time”.

Focus is hard work … unless you’re focusing on something about which you’re passionate, something that excites you, something that doesn’t feel very much like hard work all the time.

So, while I like his formula, I’d throw passion in there, too.

Today was a grey day, and I was curled up on the couch reading strictly for fun. Blissffuly absorbed in a Spenser novel. Not even a new one, at that: School Days.

And on page 85, Spencer talks to his dog Pearl:

Pearl was a good listener, even if she didn’t have much in the way of advice to offer. We sat quietly. I thought. I drank some scotch. Housman was right.

“First of all,” I said to Pearl, “somebody said once that you probably can’t figure out the truth, if you think you know ahead of time what the truth is supposed to be.

Pearl made a little sigh and settled.

“So I can’t go at this trying to clear anybody. I just have to find out what happened and why.”

A very good reminder about figuring out the truth.

In “I Already Did That”, from Joy is My Compass, Alan Cohen writes:

It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar, and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. Ironically, there is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power. We are only truly secure when we are feeling alive. As Helen Keller said, “Life is a daring adventure - or nothing.” Another teacher explained, “A ship in a harbor is safe - but that is not what ships are for.” And we are reminded to behold the turtle who makes progress only when he is willing to stick his neck out.

Whenever I face the possibility of doing something different, and I get that feeling of reluctance, I try to remember to ask myself, “But this thing that I want to keep doing that’s so sure and so comfortable … did I already do that? Is it time to move on?” And sometimes, there’s more to what I’m doing that I still have to experience. But sometimes, too, I’ve already experienced the fullness of that particular decision.

And it is time to move on.

Cohen ends with this:

There are two ways in which any path we walk upon strengthens us: Once, when we commit ourselves to it; and again, when we choose to leave it. We build rafts to carry us from one side of a river to the other. To attempt to carry the raft on the next footpath would be self-defeating. Spiritual wisdom is simply knowing when to build the raft, and when to leave it behind.

Too often, I tend to forget that I’m not only making decisions to commit myself to something - there is also a time when it is time to move on, and do something a little different. “In movement there is life, and in change there is power.”

Create a practice out of anything that you love.

In The Way of Aikido, George Leonard talks about the marriage of practice and play. And he points out that anything that you do “for the sheer love of it, as an essential expression of one’s soul” can become a long-term practice.

From this perspective, then, there are so many opportunities to begin, today, in this very moment, to create a practice, to commit to it and develop it into something that sustains you long-term:

The same thing is true in many aspects of life: exercising, doing your finances, working around the house. On a visit, Marshall McLuhan insisted on washing the dishes after dinner. “It’s my meditation”, he told us.

Perhaps more important, what we call our work can be recontextualized as a paractice. The key question again is whether you are doing it primarily for its own sake or primarily for its extrinsic rewards. This isn’t always possible, but in more cases than you might imagine, it’s a choice you can make.

But about three years ago, I did something that was quite a lot of fun. I decided to deliberately send out my thank yous to people who inspired me, but whom I did not know.

That month, I wrote letters to authors, many of whom wrote back to me. I wrote emails to website owners, many of whom responded. Often the letters and emails were short, but that didn’t matter. The replies didn’t really matter at all. It was my act of writing the original letter or email in the first place that was the important thing.

In the beginning, it was a challenge. It’s hard to write to someone you don’t know. All these thoughts come into your head. What will they think of me? Am I writing a FAN letter, of all things? Aren’t I a little too old for this kind of thing?

But after a while, it became easier and easier. I didn’t feel quite so foolish telling someone I didn’t know that I loved this particular passage from their book. Or that their website made me smile, and helped bring me back to a good mood.

When the 30 days were up, I decided to keep doing it. But after a while, other things came to the forefront, and gradually I drifted out of the practice.

Writing this has reminded me of how good it felt to write letters and emails of appreciation. And how nice it was to hear back from people, to make those connections that would otherwise never have been made if it weren’t for that letter or that email.

I think it might be time for me to do another 30 days of Saying Thank You.