Simple 12-Breath Meditation

Each lunchtime during the week, I step away from my desk and cross the road to the church garden. In this peaceful green space, I practice a very simple—yet often deeply effective—meditation. I say often because, like with any meditation, it isn’t always perfect. Some days my mind is restless, or I’m just not feeling great. But as I remind myself these days: if I’m doing it, then I’m doing it right. And that’s all that matters.

Here it is, in case you’d like to give it a try:

Settle In

Find a comfortable place to sit – I use a camping chair in the church garden, but any seat in any location is perfect – as long as you’re comfy.

Let your feet rest flat on the floor, or however feels most grounded for you. Rest your hands gently in your lap—palms up or down, whichever feels natural.

When you’re ready, softly close your eyes. There’s no need to force them shut—just a gentle closing, or even keeping them open and just softening your gaze, that will do.

Begin with the Breath

Start by simply bringing your awareness to your breath. Notice its natural rhythm—inhales and exhales. There’s nothing to change just yet. Just observe.

Now slowly, begin to deepen the breath. Imagine breathing as softly and quietly as possible, as though you’re pretending to be asleep. Let each inhale and exhale become a little longer, a little deeper.

The 12-Breath Count

When you’ve settled in to your slow and gentle breathing on your next inhale, silently count “one” in your mind. As you exhale, gently soften—maybe release your jaw, drop your shoulders a little and count “Two”.

Continue in this way—inhale three, exhale four, – repeat this until you reach twelve. With each breath, allow yourself to relax a little more. Soften your brow. Loosen any tension. Let yourself sink into stillness.

If your mind wanders, gently guide it back to your breath and the counting. There’s no need to rush, or try for perfection.

You can continue with this simple breath counting as long as you like, even for the full time you’re meditating, but I like to change from counting to a mantra once I’ve started to relax and find my rhythm.

Introduce a Mantra and Intention

First bring your mind back in play, gently though, and think of something you want to cultivate in your life right now, at this point my mind always go’s to peace and happiness, but don’t force this bit, let whatever is in there come to the front of your mind.

The mantra I use is Sankalpa.

What is Sankalpa?
Sankalpa (संकल्प) is a Sanskrit word, pronounced Sun-kal-pah. It means a heartfelt intention, a resolve, or a subtle desire. It’s a statement of what you wish to cultivate or bring into your life—usually expressed in the present tense, as though it’s already true.

Breath with the Mantra

As you continue to breathe gently and naturally:

Inhale: silently repeat Sankalpa – Exhale: silently repeat Sankalpa

keep repeating this allowing the sound and meaning of the word to resonate gently within you. There’s no need to analyse it or force anything. Just let it flow with your breath, like a quiet current beneath the surface.

Stay with this practice for as long as it feels right. If your mind wanders, gently return to the breath and the mantra.

Closing the Practice

When you feel ready to finish, gently let go of the mantra. Sit quietly for a few more moments, simply noticing how you feel. Observe the stillness within and around you.

When the time feels right, slowly open your eyes. Take your time. Let yourself adjust to the light and the space around you.

Remain seated for a short while longer, carrying this gentle awareness with you as you return to your day.

I hope you enjoyed this simple meditation practice as much as I do. Remember, meditation isn’t about achieving a particular state or outcome—it’s about showing up, being present, and allowing whatever arises to simply be. Try not to expect anything from your meditation; some days will feel calm and clear, others may be more restless or distracted—and that’s perfectly okay. The secret lies in the word practice. Like anything in life, the more you do it, the more natural it becomes. Over time, with patience and consistency, it begins to gently shape the way you experience yourself and the world around you.

Twelve Breaths Beneath the Trees

At midday,
I step away—not to escape,
but to remember.

Across the road,
beneath a quiet sky and ageing stones,
a garden waits without waiting.

I sit.

There is no mastery here.
Only breath.
Only presence.
Only the moment that arrives
and the one that follows it.

One.
Air enters.
Two.
The shoulders drop, the jaw softens.
Three.
The earth below accepts my weight.
Four.
The world does not need me to be more than this.

I do not chase silence.
It comes
when I stop running.

Five.
The wind in the leaves teaches without words.
Six.
The robin does not ask if its song is enough.

Each breath becomes a gate
that opens
to nothing but now.

And if the mind wanders,
let it.
It, too, is part of the path.

I whisper a word older than language:
San-kal-pa.
Not a wish,
but a remembering.
Not a demand,
but a seed,
already rooted,
already growing.

I do not force the breath,
it teaches me to receive.
I do not shape the stillness,
it shapes me,
gently,
without hurry.

When I rise,
nothing has changed.
Yet everything has.

The desk remains.
The world continues.
But I carry the garden
in the quiet of my heart.