Earlier this year I shared a somewhat provocative article on why “watching your thoughts like clouds passing through the sky” might be the worst meditation advice ever.

Out of curiosity, I posted it on Reddit, to see what the meditation community there might think.

Somewhat disappointingly, the only replies I received were from people offended that I’d questioned the usefulness of this popular metaphor — yet none offered a clear argument against what I’d written.

So I kept reading, wondering whether this type of knee-jerk reaction was typical. What I discovered, to my dismay, was that the genuine questions and comments posted on Reddit are often met with dogma, personal opinions, and one‑size‑fits‑all advice that ignores the needs of the person asking.

It reminded me just how much fluff and fog there is in the meditation world — and how easy it is to get lost in it.

Perhaps you’ve noticed that too: contradictory instructions, mystical claims, things that sound good but don’t quite make sense?

If so, here are ten things to watch out for. My hope is that these guidelines will help you navigate your way skilfully through the quagmire of misinformation and towards the kind of teachings that will actually help.

1. Vague, poetic, or mystical language

Sometimes you’ll find a book or teacher who is incredibly inspiring. They might share captivating stories, hint at special insights or promise a new way of living. You might walk away feeling uplifted — but without any idea of what to practice (and maybe a nagging suspicion that you’re being drawn into a cult).

This is usually a good time to trust the sceptical part of your brain. Useful teachings gives you clear, concrete actions that you can test and evaluate for yourself — and they never rely on shortcuts or mystique.

2. Authority based on lineage, special status, or hidden knowledge

The meditation world is rife with gurus and experts of all kinds — mystics, scientists, influencers, and self‑declared experts. Some have useful things to say. But when a teaching relies on the teacher’s special status — enlightened, chosen, initiated, gifted, or just wildly followed — that’s often a good reason to exercise caution. Strangely enough, authority isn’t a teaching method.

Furthermore, teaching doesn’t require reverence. A good teacher will want you to be sceptical, and will encourage you to test things for yourself.

The bottom line: be wary of appeals to authority, of anyone who insists their method is the only correct way to practise. Similarly, it’s not a promising sign when someone insist that their techniques should be practiced only as taught.

3. Overpromising outcomes

Have you heard of the monks who can sit in the Himalayan cold and dry sheets by regulating their own body temperature? Stories like this litter the meditation world, along with over-inflated promises of what meditation can do for you.

I can tell you one thing for sure. Drying sheets is better done on a clothes line!

The real issue is the promise‑making. When meditation is sold as a cure‑all that will fix your trauma, dissolve your ego, make you permanently calm, unlock your “true self,” or guarantee awakening, you’re drifting into snake‑oil territory.

When evaluating a practice I like to ask: will this technique do something for me that ordinary tools (e.g. a clothes dryer) couldn’t? I’m also wary of anyone who tells me that I’m not “practicing properly”, especially when they’re unwilling to offer an alternative approach. That’s a classic way to uphold the sanctity of the method or tradition over the wellbeing of the student.

4. Inability to answer simple, practical questions

Meditation can be somewhat mysterious. Even as a complete beginner, you might have strange and unexpected experiences. You might wonder, “Am I doing this right?” or “Is this meant to happen?” And naturally enough, you might seek explanations and reassurance from a teacher.

But teachers themselves often don’t quite know how or why meditation works, and they may not be able to clearly articulate the principles behind the practices. This is not because they’re frauds, it’s simply because they were never taught these things.

Meditation teaching often relies on anecdotes and stories, and teachers frequently resort to yogic or Buddhist texts or jargon instead of offering genuine insight drawn from their own experience.

This is inevitable to some degree. No teacher can know everything. However, when you ask a practical question and your teacher falls back on stories, slogans, or vague encouragement to “keep practising,” that could be a sign that they’re parroting what they’ve heard, rather than sharing insights grounded in their own experience.

This is worth noticing. A good teacher doesn’t need to hide behind tradition or slogans. They’re willing to explore your question with you, draw on their own experience, and help you understand what’s happening in a way that makes sense to you.

5. Invalidating your experience

Two people can listen to the same guided meditation and have completely different experiences. One might find it deeply relaxing; the other, stressful. If you feel confused, doubtful, or uncomfortable, those too are valid experiences.

But if these “difficulties” are ever framed as “your ego resisting” or “your vibration being low,” or if you are ever told that “you’re not doing it right”, or “you haven’t practiced for long enough”, then you’re not being supported. You’re being managed.

For some teachers, your supposed “failure” feels like a threat to the method. And because they may not have answers or alternative approaches, they might get defensive — treating your experience as an anomaly, a problem, or even a criticism of the teaching itself.

Good teaching does the opposite. It validates whatever you experience, helps you make sense of it, and offers alternatives when difficulties arise.

6. One-size-fits-all prescriptions

Some schools of meditation seem to think that their approach is the only one you need, and that it will work perfectly for everyone. Others actively discourage you from trying out approaches from other traditions. And some trot out the same old clichés for any problem you might encounter.

Struggling with anxiety? “Just relax.”
Overwhelmed by thoughts? “Just observe them.”
Can’t sit still? “Just sit longer.”
Feeling distressed? “Just let go.”

These aren’t instructions. They’re one‑size‑fits‑all solutions to problems that are anything but one‑size‑fits‑all.

By contrast, skillful teachers adapt their methods according to the student. They listen to you, and respond according to your needs (instead of offering generic platitudes).

7. Techniques that can’t be questioned or evaluated

Some teachings fall apart the moment you ask how to assess them. If there’s no way to tell whether a method is helping, no criteria for progress, and no room to compare it with alternatives, you’re not being offered a practice — you’re being asked to adopt a belief.

You’ll often hear things like “trust the process,” “the benefits are subtle,” or “you’ll understand when you’re ready.” These phrases shut down inquiry. They make the method unfalsifiable — which is great for the method, but not for the student.

Good practices can be explored, tested, and adjusted. They give you ways to notice change, evaluate what’s happening, and adapt when something isn’t working. They don’t require blind faith.

8. Emotional or spiritual bypassing

Thoughts are normal. Emotions are normal. Needs, instincts, and reactions are normal too. But some teachings encourage you to set all of them aside — as though your inner life is irrelevant or even an obstacle to meditation.

When you’re told to “just observe” instead of setting a boundary, or to “let go” instead of having a difficult conversation, meditation can shift from a supportive practice into a coping strategy or crutch. If it becomes the thing you do instead of addressing what genuinely needs attention, that’s avoidance, not insight.

Good teaching helps you turn toward life, not away from it. It normalises the full range of human experience. It doesn’t pathologise our so‑called “shadow” sides, but teaches us how to accept and work with all parts of ourselves.

9. A teacher who never admits uncertainty

Some teachers are charismatic. They have an answer for everything and seem very confident in themselves and what they’re saying. These qualities might draw you in.

But honest teachers do things differently. They say things like:

  • “I don’t know.”
  • “That depends.”
  • “Let’s explore that together.”
  • “Try this and see what happens.”

Call me cynical, but a teacher who can’t say these things is probably hiding something. Yes, certainty is seductive. It feels reassuring. But humility is far more trustworthy. Good teachers are willing to show their limits, admit their mistakes, and stay curious — because not‑knowing is part of the practice too.

10. Teachings that make you feel smaller, not more capable

In some groups, there’s an unmistakable hierarchy. The teaching is treated as sacred, the head teacher sits just beneath it, and everyone else is cast as a perpetual beginner — no matter how long they’ve been practising.

In environments like this, you can start to feel subtly undermined: confused, self‑doubting, or as though your perfectly normal reactions are signs that something is wrong with you.

Good instruction does the opposite. It increases agency. It helps you trust your own experience, make sense of what’s happening, and feel more capable of making your own decisions and exercising your own judgment — rather than becoming increasingly dependent on the teacher.

Conclusion / TLDR.

At the end of the day, meditation isn’t meant to be mysterious. It’s a set of skills you can learn, refine, and apply in the real world. When the teaching is clear, you feel more capable. When it’s muddled or mystical, you feel more confused.

My hope is that these guidelines help you trust your own discernment a little more — and remind you that good practice doesn’t require special language, secret knowledge, or perfect performance. It just requires curiosity, honesty, and methods that actually work.

If you’ve recognised any of these red flags in your own experience, feel free to share your stories below. I’d love to hear what you’ve encountered — and what you’ve learned along the way.

Interested in a simple, short, no-nonsense guide to meditation and mindfulness?