Growing up in a small town in Kentucky, I knew a lot of people that hunted.

It always sounded so miserable to me.

Wake up before the sun was up.

Trudge outside in cold weather.

Climb a tree.

Wait.

I remember my friend Jay talking about how great it felt. “It isn’t even about getting a deer,” he would say. It was just about being out in the woods, alone with your thoughts. He’d be in a better mood for days after getting to spend time “hunting” – even if he never fired a shot.

I saw the same thing from my father and others when they talked about fishing.

Sure, catching fish was a bonus, but the act of fishing itself seemed to provide a tremendous value.

As a teenager, I didn’t get it. As an adult who is ever-so-slowly getting less bad at meditating, it finally clicked.

They weren’t hunting. 

They weren’t fishing. 

They were accidentally meditating.

Quiet.

Focused, but low intensity thought.

Mindful breathing.

Stillness.

Nature.

Did I just describe meditation or being in a deer stand?

The answer is both.

Your meditation is already happening on long drives, in a church, or even in a deer stand.

You just don’t call it by its proper name.

The number of people that are meditating but just don’t formally recognize it is larger than the number of people who pursue it with a focused attempt and its proper name.