Meditation Apps Keep Telling Me to Breathe Like I Forgot How

Inhale peace… exhale $14.99/month

Meditation Apps Keep Telling Me to Breathe Like I Forgot How

So, I downloaded a meditation app because apparently that’s what functional adults do when they’re stressed. You know, instead of eating an entire sleeve of cookies while doom-scrolling Twitter at 2 AM like a normal person.

The app promised to change my life in just 10 minutes a day. “Find your inner peace,” it said. “Reduce anxiety,” it whispered seductively. “Learn to breathe properly,” it said…ya, ok…

The breathing situation

Okay, first of all, I’ve been breathing for over three decades without any formal training, and I’m still alive. I think I’ve got this whole oxygen-in, carbon-dioxide-out thing figured out.

But apparently not, because this app immediately starts bossing me around like I’m some respiratory amateur.

“Now, take a deep breath in through your nose…”

I KNOW HOW TO BREATHE. I’ve been doing it literally nonstop since birth. It’s like the one thing I can do automatically without thinking about it.

“And slowly exhale through your mouth…”

Oh, is THAT how exhaling works? Thanks for that groundbreaking information. Here, I’ve been randomly shooting air out of various face holes, like some breathing anarchist.

The voice

Why do all meditation app narrators sound like they’re trying to seduce a houseplant? They have this slow, sultry whisper that makes everything sound vaguely inappropriate.

“Feel your body… sinking… deeper… into… relaxation…”

I’m sitting on my couch in sweatpants with Cheeto dust on my shirt. There’s nothing sensual happening here. Stop making it weird.

And they always pause in the strangest places. “Now… notice your… thoughts… floating… by… like… clouds…”

Like clouds WHAT? Don’t leave me hanging! Are they storm clouds? Fluffy clouds? Do the clouds resemble those of Nicolas Cage? I NEED TO KNOW.

The impossible instructions

“Clear your mind of all thoughts.”

EXCUSE ME? That’s like asking me to stop having a personality. My brain doesn’t have an off switch. The moment you tell me not to think about anything, I’m suddenly thinking about whether I locked my car, that weird thing I said in 2019, and why hot dogs come in packs of 10 but buns come in packs of 8.

“If thoughts arise, simply acknowledge them and let them go.”

Oh, simply? SIMPLY? My thoughts don’t politely knock and wait for permission. They kick down the door like they’re conducting a raid. “Hey, remember that embarrassing thing from high school? Let’s relive that for the next 20 minutes!”

The body scan thing

Then there’s the “body scan” meditation, where they want me to “notice sensations in your toes.”

My toes feel like… toes? They are simply resting in my socks, performing their usual functions. What am I supposed to notice? Are they supposed to be talking to me? Should I be concerned that they’re not?

“Now move your attention to your ankles…”

My ankles are also fine, thanks for asking. This feels like the world’s most boring medical exam.

By the time we get to my head, I’m convinced something’s wrong with me because I don’t feel any “tingling energy” or “waves of relaxation.” I simply feel like someone who has been contemplating their body parts intensely for ten minutes.

The background sounds

Why do they always add weird nature sounds? I’m trying to relax in my apartment, not survive in the wilderness. I don’t need random bird chirping when I can clearly hear loud-ass traffic. Now I’m distracted, wondering what kind of birds those are and if they’re okay.

The most annoying option is the "ocean waves" sound. It sounds like someone is running a faucet in the background, which makes me need to pee, but I don’t want to interrupt my flow.

The timer anxiety

“Set aside 10 minutes for yourself.”

You know what happens when I set aside 10 minutes? I spend 9 minutes checking my phone to see how much time is left. This is not relaxing. This is the opposite of relaxing.

And they always end with, “When you’re ready, gently open your eyes.”

When I’m ready? I’ve been ready for the last 8 minutes. I opened my eyes 30 seconds in to make sure my apartment hadn’t burned down while I was “focusing on my breath.”

The wisdom dispensing

My personal favorite is when they drop these profound life truths, like, “Breathe in calm, breathe out stress.”

Oh wow, thanks. Is that how emotions work? Can I also breathe in money and breathe out my student loans? Breathe in motivation and breathe out my desire to stay in bed until 3 PM?

“Remember, you can return to your breath anytime you need grounding.”

Yeah, I’d better hope so, because the alternative is suffocating, and that seems counterproductive to my wellness journey.

The real meditation

Here’s what I’ve figured out: the real meditation happens when you’re trying so hard to follow their instructions that you completely forget about everything else you were worried about.

I focused on my breathing, my toes, the happiness of the birds, and the loud-ass cars for 10 minutes. Somehow, I forgot to stress about my email inbox or that thing I need to do tomorrow.

So maybe the app worked? It's not that I reached a state of enlightenment, but rather that I became so engrossed in resolving my confusion about my breathing technique that I lost track of my initial anxiety. Can I even still breathe?!

Or maybe I just need to accept that my version of meditation is eating Oreos while watching Netflix, and that’s a perfectly valid spiritual practice.

Either way, I’m pretty sure I can keep breathing without a subscription service, but thanks for checking. I also want to thank my neighbor, Debra. Thanks, Debra… You meditating, breathing…SOB!

For more of my rants, life hacks, and questionable wellness advice, check out my Beacons page.