Okay… here we go — my actual chaotic journey with Zen meditation rituals
So yeah, Zen meditation rituals. I started trying to do proper Zen meditation rituals about seven months ago because my anxiety was eating me alive and scrolling X at 2 a.m. clearly wasn’t cutting it anymore.
I live in this kinda messy one-bedroom apartment right now (January 2026, still no idea how I accumulated six different water bottles), and the first time I attempted real zazen — that classic seated Zen meditation — I literally set a timer for 10 minutes, sat on my floor, closed my eyes… and immediately started mentally arguing with my boss from three years ago. Like full-on courtroom drama in my head. Super Zen, right?
And one that really nails the messy-room-with-water-bottles + inner chaos vibe:
How To Transform Your Bedroom From Chaos To Serenity » Home Care …
Anyway.
I’ve slowly built a tiny handful of Zen meditation rituals that actually kinda work for my extremely American, easily distracted brain. They’re not pretty. They’re not Instagram-perfect. But they help. Sometimes.
1. The “I’m Not Allowed to Touch My Phone” Ritual (aka Brutal Beginner Zazen)
I usually do this first thing after I drag myself out of bed (which is like… 9:17 a.m. on a good day).
- Put phone in the kitchen drawer — physically far away
- Drag out the sad little zafu cushion I impulse-bought off Amazon in 2024
- Face the wall (real Zen style, apparently)
- Set a 12-minute timer (I can’t do 20 yet, don’t @ me)
- Count breaths: 1 on inhale, 2 on exhale, up to 10, then back to 1
- When I inevitably start thinking about whether I should finally cancel that unused Adobe subscription → gently say “thinking” in my head and return to counting
Most sessions I make it to maybe 4 or 5 before I’m planning my grocery list. But weirdly, even those messy 12 minutes leave me feeling… quieter? Less like I’m about to vibrate out of my skin?
Here’s a great beginner’s guide to zazen basics if you want the less chaotic version → Zazen Instructions – Zen Mountain Monastery
Zazen Meditation | AGOBAY
2. Matcha + Three Bows (the bougie-but-I’m-broke version)
I got obsessed with the idea of tea ceremony vibes without actually learning chanoyu (because that’s a several-year commitment and I can barely commit to laundry).
So my Zen-inspired meditation ritual looks like this:
- Boil water in the kettle that has limescale because I’m a monster
- Whisk matcha in my one nice bowl using a dollar-store bamboo whisk
- Bow three times to literally nobody — once to the tea, once to the universe, once to my tired-ass self
- Sip super slowly while trying to actually taste it instead of chugging it like coffee
- Sit in silence for like 4–7 minutes afterward
It feels stupid at first. Then it feels… surprisingly tender? Like I’m finally acknowledging that I exist before the day starts kicking my ass.
If you want to see what real tea ceremony looks like (very different from my clown version): Urasenke Foundation – Introduction to Chanoyu
Here are two images that kinda capture the vibe I’m going for (and failing at hilariously):
(placeholder images showing: slightly messy home matcha setup with bad lighting + a more traditional serene Japanese tea bowl scene)
3. Walking Kinhin… but in the hallway like a weirdo
When sitting hurts my hips too much (which is always), I do kinhin — Zen walking meditation — except my apartment hallway is maybe nine feet long.
I walk realllllly slowly. Like suspicious-old-man slow. Turn. Walk back. Hands in shashu (one fist wrapped in the other at solar plexus). Breathe. Repeat.
The neighbors definitely think I’m having a breakdown.
Still — something about moving meditation feels less violent to my ADHD brain. I can actually stay present for like 8–10 minutes sometimes.
Great explanation of kinhin here → San Francisco Zen Center – Kinhin Instructions
Final messy thoughts
Look. I’m not enlightened. I’m not even close. Half the time during my Zen meditation rituals I’m thinking about whether I should get McDonald’s later or if my ex has seen my new profile picture.
But.
There’s something stubborn and gentle about showing up anyway. About sitting in the chaos of my American apartment, with the spider watching, the incense falling over, the half-dead plant judging me, and still trying to come back to the breath.
