Effortless Calm vs. Conscious Engagement
Transcendental Meditation (TM), developed by Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in the 1950s, is one of the world’s most widely practiced meditation techniques. Its simplicity is key: silently repeat a mantra, given by a certified TM teacher, for twenty minutes twice a day. There’s no attempt to control the mind, no focus on the breath. Instead, thoughts rise and pass, with the practitioner gently returning to the mantra, settling into quiet alertness.
TM works for millions, likely because it’s simple and supported by a community. There are no rigid postures, no intense concentration, just a mental reset. This approach improves a person’s nervous system and awareness. While twenty minutes may feel long, especially for newcomers, simply showing up means there’s no failure, only progress. Doing this twice a day takes dedication. The immediate improvement comes from the willingness to commit to the practice. That commitment creates the shift. Our participation leads to relaxation, mental clarity, and deeper calm.
I hold deep respect for Maharishi’s contribution. In his time, telling Westerners to meditate for just twenty minutes twice a day, without worrying about focus, removed the intimidation factor and made stillness accessible to those who would never attempt hours-long sessions in the style of Indian yoga.
My path, however, has never been about following stereotypical Eastern gurus with cult-like followings. I draw from classical yoga, focusing on breathwork (pranayama) and attention (dharana) as the foundations of true relaxation. These practices regulate the nervous system, steady the heart, and anchor the mind.
TM deliberately sets aside conscious breathwork and sustained concentration, which, to me, feels more like a marketing strategy to stand out. Maharishi truly owned his method and prospered from it. His success is not only due to the practice but also to the branding techniques used by his trainers. Students are given a secret mantra, never to be revealed. To the newcomer, this creates mystique, an essential component for people to settle into meditation.
While the mantra naturally engages some focus and unconscious breathing, TM bypasses two critical emotional regulation techniques: conscious breathing and focused attention. The mantra is free to roam, with little intentional focus.
Regardless of its acclaim, I find the absence of breathwork a problem. I’ve practiced TM enough to know it works, but I also find focusing on breathing to be more effective. Breath focus has many applications beyond meditation, athletic performance, concentration in complex tasks, and maintaining mental clarity during stress. When we get distracted or tired, taking slow, deep breaths is incredibly effective at re-centering, not just from what I’ve read, but from personal experience.
Additionally, integrating meditation into a physical practice like yoga, where breathing is essential, is impossible without it. Many postures require specific breathing techniques. So bypassing breathwork during meditation feels counterproductive, especially when you've set aside time for both.
I believe combining techniques, breathing, mantra, and focus, is the most effective approach. Depending on your mood or life circumstances, you can start with a mantra while focusing on the breath, then allow the mantra to fade into the background. If you get distracted, you can return to the mantra, which itself requires focus. TM does not emphasize focus, even though the act of repeating the mantra is, in fact, a form of focus.
Here’s the paradox: when you practice TM, you still breathe more deeply simply because meditation calms the nervous system. You repeat your mantra, a thought appears, and you return to the mantra. That "return" is focus, no different from returning to the breath in other traditions. TM’s brilliance lies in its simplicity, making it accessible to anyone. Sit for twenty minutes with the intention of relaxing, and you will relax. TM is, in that sense, a streamlined entry point into stillness.
My goal is not to diminish TM but to offer you more tools. Meditation can be as brief as ten slow breaths or three minutes, and still shift your state. For those who resist even that, I say: meditation is one good breath.
In yoga postures, focus means paying attention to breath, body, and presence all at once. Breath isn’t just a side effect, it’s the anchor that keeps you relaxed during challenges. The same is true in meditation: conscious breathing deepens calm and clarity, while focus trains the mind to stay steady.
If Maharishi had access to today’s neuroscience and somatic research, I believe he might have expanded TM, not replacing the mantra but weaving in breath and focus to amplify results. Great teachers evolve with knowledge.
My approach blends ancient yogic principles with modern science: breathing consciously as both spiritual practice and biological intervention. Poor breathing patterns cause anxiety and keep it alive; correcting them restores balance and clarity. Focus isn’t forced, it’s trained gently and consistently, until it becomes natural.
This isn’t about right or wrong. Meditation isn’t one-size-fits-all. If TM brings you peace, keep going. But if you want a practice that fully engages breath, body, and mind, explore the deeper mechanics of transformation through conscious breathing and focused attention.
In the end, what matters is simple: your practice should work. It should bring clarity, healing, and peace. It should make life lighter, not more complicated.
Transcendental Meditation as a Brand and Practice: TM, in my view, is as much a branding triumph as a spiritual practice. Its mystique, built around the personalized mantra, works like a doctor’s prescription: the act itself shifts belief, and belief changes biology. Mind and body chemistry are intertwined. The more we believe in the method, the more it works. In TM’s case, the payoff is relaxation.
That’s not a criticism; it’s effective, compassionate, and time-tested. But it’s also an institution and a business, and businesses survive by guarding the mystique of their product: the mantra, the guru, the technique.
The method is essentially yogic meditation without breath control. No one tells you to hold your breath; you breathe as you like. That alone makes it adaptable.
In recent years, some practitioners and teachers of TM have integrated pranayama or breathwork into their practice to enhance relaxation and the benefits of meditation, especially in the context of a broader meditation or yoga practice. But, this integration of pranayama is not part of the original TM technique and may vary depending on the teacher or practitioner.
If I could trademark my own meditation, it would be this: watch the sunset indirectly, through trees or between buildings to protect your eyes. Stand tall. Take the deepest breath through your nose. Think only of gratitude. Keep your gaze on the sun. Let positive thoughts rise. When a negative thought comes, exhale it completely and return to the light. End by speaking something powerfully positive about the present moment. I do this several times a week, and the colors alone, warm, alive, shifting, soothe me and charge me with energy that lasts.
Modern vs. Ancient Meditation Practices: Modern meditation is no less sacred than ancient forms. Like modern martial arts, it has evolved with the times, incorporating what works and discarding what doesn’t.
The best modern practices don’t just calm the mind; they dig deep. Through breath, focus, and nervous system regulation, they confront the roots of trauma and anxiety. Without that, meditation risks becoming spiritual bypassing, sitting in stillness while unresolved wounds run the show in the background.
We can master posture and stillness, but if we don’t heal, we’ll still be ruled by the same compulsions, addictions, and fears.
In my meditation, there is no guru, only the collective consciousness, without face, name, or ego.
My Stance on Gurus: Some believe devotion to a guru is the highest path. I don’t.
Maharishi Mahesh Yogi has my respect. If he were alive, I believe we’d meet as equals, different, but neither above the other. My caution isn’t aimed at him, but at the many false prophets in every tradition. They elevate themselves while holding humanity back. The best teachers know this and stay out of the spotlight.
Students can lose themselves in worship. Teachers can lose themselves in being worshiped. Both are traps.
When I teach, I refuse the flowers, the pedestal, the special treatment. Praise is tempting; it’s human to want it, but it can derail the teacher just as easily as the student.
Meditation is personal. Teachers can point the way, but they are not the destination.
Buyer Beware: We live in an age of endless teachers, YouTube, Instagram, podcasts. Some are extraordinary. Many are not. The beginner often can’t tell the difference. A good teacher will warn you against worship and refuse your devotion.
I’m transparent about where I make money, whether from teaching, antiques, or other business, because meditation is not merchandise. Once it’s packaged as a product, it’s compromised.
Those who teach at a high level have to walk a fine line: serve humanity, but protect their own life, family, work, and peace.
The Only Test That Matters: Even the best teachers mix truth with bias. I’ve studied many: 60% solid truth, 20% groundbreaking insight, 20% nonsense. Sometimes the ratios are worse. I could fall into the same trap. This book could be wrong tomorrow.
That’s why I’ll say it plainly: don’t take my word for it, or anyone’s. Test it. See if it works in your life. If it brings peace, clarity, and strength, keep it. If not, let it go.
Meditation isn’t about brands, gurus, or tradition. It’s about building an unshakable connection to yourself. No one else can give you that.