Sam Harris has these great lessons on his app (highly recommended) that cover a range of ways you can be a happier and more mindful person. One of my favorites is, “Don’t Meditate Because It’s Good for You.” This lesson makes a lot of good points – that the science, for instance, asserting that meditation is good for you is constantly changing, and longtime practitioners know that even as the science shifts, meditation is still worthwhile.

But to paraphrase, my favorite point of his is this: What about other mind-expanding skills we learn? Is reading “good for you”? Nobody would argue that reading is beneficial just because it reduces stress. Reading opens you up to worlds that improve your soul – knowledge, compassion, art. 

Similarly, meditation allows you to have a different relationship to your thoughts, and to the things you pay attention to – which is really all we have to give. Do I pay attention to the 15 Facebook alerts I get in an hour, or to my aging mom, normally stoic and Midwestern, who actually wants to talk for 5 minutes? When you’re spending time with your kids, are you really here for it, or are you anticipating getting back to Call of Duty reaction videos?

And for those of us who are anxious catastrophizers, meditation that gives you access to information about how your mind works helps you to have a different relationship with thoughts, and a different relationship with reality. Think of ruminating you do about problems you are anticipating, are sure will happen, but are not actually happening (and, for the record, may not happen at all). There is a possible problem, one that you may or may not have to solve, but what is beyond dispute is that this was not a problem you can solve right now. It hasn’t happened yet – by definition, you can’t solve it. So now you’ve increased the time you’ve spent mired in that problem by a factor of 10, because you don’t have the relationship with your thoughts that lets you off the hook – that lets you say, “I’m spending a lot of time thinking about this. I can’t do anything about this right now. There are things in the present that deserve my attention. The future will wait until it’s here.” You’re carried on a freight train of thought, and without training in the ability to recognize and redirect your thoughts, you’re strapped to the engine. 

And maybe you’re even on this freight train when something awesome is going on. Your daughter is showing her how the drawbridge goes up and down on her My Little Pony castle. Your best friend is telling a hilarious story. Your partner has made you a crab melt sandwich. You’re gliding along on a river of cars where a flawless ballet of the rule of traffic law is synchronizing thousands in a harmony of safety. You’re snuggled up in the warmest bed on the world’s comfiest mattress. Any of these are beautiful experiences, worthy of your fullest attention. Any of these are better than the experience of fretting about something you can’t even do anything about. 

When I was very depressed, I had a lot of thought patterns that kept me depressed – and that continue to this day. I could spend my attention focused on keeping Fatberry (the Silver Liger) in the pets and attention to which he’s become accustomed, but instead I’m worried about some glitch with my archive email mailbox. 

And, because I’m a world-class catastrophizer for whom death is an omnipresent specter (yay me!), I’m always thinking about my cat’s short little life and how he’ll die soon. This has the benefit of helping me keep focus when I’m with him, sure. But it also causes me to ruin moments when he is here, warm and breathing and alive and cuddly and playful, thinking of how sad I’ll be in the future – a future that hasn’t arrived. One thing I know from losing pets and people is that, like, 90% of your memories of them after they die somehow incorporate their last moments – that however good things were when they were alive, what you never forget is how tragic it was when they died. Nearly every memory is tinged with past sadness. This moment, this present moment, is one that does not carry the sting of, “This is how we said goodbye.” We are so happy, right here, right now. And I’m ruining it with ruminations on future sadness. 

There’s a lot meditation can teach you about making sure that anxiety doesn’t ruin what’s already working. It’s all in our heads – that’s all we’ve got to work with, and meditation is one of the few ways that I’ve ever heard of to be better at having a mind full of joy instead of anxiety, sadness, and distraction. It can help you sort out what’s important, and it can help you identify what’s standing in the way of prioritizing giving attention to the experiences that will make you a better partner, a better son or daughter, a better parent, a better servant to the Silver Liger. That’s an examined life.