Tell someone you’re depressed and one of the first questions you’ll probably get is: “Do you meditate?” Say no, and get ready for a heartfelt lecture on the countless benefits of meditation, how mindfulness is basically a cure-all, and, bonus, how you don’t really need medication if you just breathe correctly and focus on the present.
While these suggestions often come from a good place, they oversimplify a complex reality. Meditation and mindfulness can be powerful tools for self-awareness and emotion regulation, but they are not universally beneficial, and for some, it can sometimes make things worse. Yes, worse!
Recent research challenges the “mindfulness-is-always-good” narrative. So, let’s take a step back and ask: is meditation really the solution for depression, or is it just one tool among many?
A Brief History of Meditation
Meditation is old. Really old! Archaeological evidence places its roots between 5000 and 3500 BCE, with early depictions found in wall art showing seated figures in meditative postures. The oldest written references appear in the वेद (~1500 BCE), where meditation was a spiritual discipline aimed at transcending human existence and attaining enlightenment.
From India, these ideas spread across Asia. In China, Daoist meditation emphasized harmony with 道 (the Way), combining controlled breathing and physical stillness. In Japan, Zen Buddhism emerged from Chan traditions, focusing on direct experience and disciplined attention (Zazen). Even Greek philosophers, including Pythagoras and Plutarch, practiced contemplative introspection and experimenting with “navel-gazing” (yes, that’s literally called omphaloskepsis – ομφαλοσκόπησις).
The transmission of meditation to the West began with translations of Sanskrit texts in the 19th century. The 1893 Parliament of the World’s Religions in Chicago, where Swami Vivekananda spoke about yoga and meditation, marked a turning point. Later, in 1979, Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn founded the Center for Mindfulness at the University of Massachusetts Medical School, formalizing Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) as a secular clinical program. Kabat-Zinn helped bring meditation into the mainstream, stripped of religious overtones, focusing instead on stress reduction and mental well-being.
Parliament of Religions September 1893. On the platform (left to right) Virchand Gandhi, Anagarika Dharmapala, Swami Vivekananda and G. Bonet Maury.
Mindfulness vs. Meditation
Here’s where it gets confusing. People often use the terms interchangeably, but there’s a distinction.
- Mindfulness comes from the Pali word sati, derived from the Sanskrit smṛti. It’s about being present, noticing your thoughts, feelings, and surroundings without judgment.
- Meditation is the practice that trains the mind to develop mindfulness, among other benefits.
Think of mindfulness as the goal, and meditation as one path to get there.
The Science of Mindfulness
Kabat-Zinn defines mindfulness as “the psychological process of bringing one’s attention to the internal and external experiences occurring in the present moment, which can be developed through meditation and other training.” His MBSR program has been widely studied over the past 30+ years.
Scientists reviewing decades of research found that practices like MBSR and other mindful techniques are indeed associated with neuroplastic changes, increased thickness or connectivity in brain regions tied to emotion regulation, attention and self‑awareness such as the insula, hippocampus, prefrontal cortex and anterior cingulate cortex. (Further reading: Neurobiological Changes Induced by Mindfulness and Meditation: A Systematic Review)
Functional imaging shows that after mindfulness interventions people show greater insula activity (which helps you notice what your body is doing), and possibly improved connectivity between self‑monitoring and emotional regulation networks. Meta‑analysis of mindfulness interventions among emerging adults (20‑29 years old) found a moderate effect size for reducing depressive symptoms (g = 0.44, 95% CI: 0.33–0.55) when compared to control groups.
But, and this is important, the “doing nothing” control matters. When mindfulness is compared with active alternatives (exercise, relaxation, other therapies), advantage often shrinks. Some people thrive on quiet introspection, while others feel restless or even more anxious when focusing inward. Individual reactions vary widely.
When it might not be for you
Here’s the thing about mindfulness: it isn’t always sunshine and calm. A systematic review of mindfulness‑based programs found that while reporting of harm is patchy, some people did have negative experiences. In studies looking at MBIs for psychosis, for example, there was actually a slightly higher risk of hospitalization or needing crisis support than those who didn’t do the programs. Surprising, right?
A systematic review by McCartney et al. (2020) found that up to 8% of meditation practitioners experienced negative effects, ranging from anxiety and panic to emotional blunting and depersonalization. Vulnerable populations, people with pre-existing mental health conditions, were particularly at risk.
Farias et al. (2021) took a closer look at clinical and neurobiological outcomes, showing that meditation sometimes intensified psychological distress, including psychotic episodes and worsening PTSD symptoms. Their work emphasizes the need for trauma-sensitive approaches rather than a blanket “sit and breathe” prescription.
Even well-regarded reviews, like Van Dam et al. (2018), caution that methodological limitations and overstatements of benefits mean we should temper expectations. Adverse effects, mild to severe, aren’t always reported consistently, but they are real.
Why does this happen? Mindfulness asks you to notice everything, thoughts, sensations, emotions. Sounds nice, right? But if you’re depressed, anxious, or carrying unhealed trauma, this inward focus can stir up old memories, trigger rumination, or leave you feeling emotionally overloaded. The mirror-work can often times show things we don’t want to or are not ready to see yet.
Context matters a lot. Who’s guiding you, your mental state, even your expectations, all of it shapes the outcome. Sit alone in a silent room thinking you’ll suddenly feel lighter? Sometimes it backfires. And the research? Older studies are small, uneven, and results aren’t always clear. Effect sizes are modest, and we still don’t really know who benefits most, for how long, or under what conditions
Here’s a simple rule of thumb:
- Notice how you feel after a session. Calm and present? Great. More anxious, heavier, or detached? That’s okay. It doesn’t mean you failed. It may just mean this isn’t your moment for it.
- Guidance matters. Combine mindfulness with therapy or professional support, especially if depression, anxiety, or trauma is part of your story.
- Avoid thinking it’s a cure‑all. Science says it helps many people, but not everyone in the same way.
Mindfulness isn’t for everyone. And that’s perfectly fine. It’s a tool, not a prescription. So, the next time someone says, “You just need to meditate,” you can smile, nod, and say gently but firmly, “Thanks, but that’s not for me.”
Because self-care isn’t about following a trend or ticking a box. It’s about finding what actually helps you, even if it’s not meditation, mindfulness, or any popular solution. Listening to yourself, honoring your boundaries, and seeking the support you truly need, that’s where the real practice begins.
