Okay, so maybe that heading grabbed your attention. And no, it’s not clickbait. It’s a genuine invitation to question the usefulness of one of the most common metaphors used in mindfulness practices.
Yes. It is deliberately provocative. It might raise your hackles — or your curiosity, and you might have already said to yourself: “Wait. What? That’s my favourite technique, and I’ve found it very helpful.”
But what do you want from meditation? Do you want platitudes that might help ease your stress for a few moments? Or do you want the kind of insight that helps rewire your brain? The kind of insight that changes the relationship you have with thoughts, so that you’re no longer thrown off balance by them?
If you’re anything like me, you’d probably prefer the latter.
So let’s delve a little deeper.
You’ve probably heard the advice: “Don’t try to stop your thoughts. Just observe them. Watch them drift by like clouds in the sky.”
It sounds good, right? There’s a certain poetic quality to it.
And if you’ve ever tried (and failed) to “still your mind,” watching your thoughts in such a way probably felt like a relief. Finally, here’s something I can do!
And I have to admit, the cloud metaphor is appealing. It makes you feel like you’re doing something useful. And when someone tells you to observe your thoughts like clouds passing through the sky (or leaves on a stream, or trains passing through a station) you suddenly have permission not to engage with them as though they were proclamations from on high. Suddenly you have permission to “be”.
You can stop trying to meditate. You can stop fighting with yourself. You can let go of the effort to subdue or silence your mind. You can finally just let go.
And that may well feel pretty damn fine!
But appealing doesn’t always mean effective.
For example: Has this strategy actually stopped you from getting caught up in your thoughts?
Or do you still find yourself spiralling into the same old stories, anxieties, and catastrophes — either after, or even during your meditation?
Because here’s the rub: When you imagine your thoughts drifting by like clouds, you’re pretending. You’re pretending they don’t matter. But that’s probably not how you actually feel.
At a deeper level, you still believe them.
They still feel true.
They still feel important.
Those thoughts are still demanding your attention. And all the assumptions holding those thoughts together remain untouched.
And that’s the problem. The cloud metaphor encourages a kind of bypassing. You’re not examining your thoughts — you’re avoiding them. You’re keeping them at a safe distance, tiptoeing around as though they were landmines.
And tiptoeing is not freedom. It’s hypervigilance masquerading as mindfulness.
Even when you “observe” your thoughts, you’re probably observing them through a filter: judging them, wishing they were different, hoping they’ll go away. So your relationship to the thoughts doesn’t change at all.
Not much shifts. You just get some momentary respite.
Einstein (apparently) said: We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.
And that’s exactly what the cloud metaphor keeps you doing: thinking in the same old way.
It doesn’t help you question the validity of your thoughts.
It doesn’t help you see the patterns that keep them alive.
It doesn’t help you dismantle the assumptions underneath them.
It just helps you ignore them for a moment.
So what can you do instead?
In any moment, there are thousands of things you could pay attention to. You can’t be aware of everything all at once. So, in the moment, you’re going to miss a LOT.
And when you’re caught up in a stream of thought, you may not have the clarity to watch anything. You’re in it. You’re reacting. You’re believing every word your mind produces.
Insights into your thinking can usually only happen in hindsight, through reflection.
That’s how you learn. Not through remaining mindful ‘in the moment’, but by looking back over what was happening when you were meditating.
That’s the part you might miss when watching your thoughts like clouds.
Yes, observe — but observe after the fact.
Take the time to examine your thinking.
Identify your assumptions.
Notice the stories you’re telling yourself.
And compare them with reality.
Not the reality in your head.
But the observable reality life serves up.
See where the stories your mind tells you don’t accord with reality.
This is how you rewire your brain — not by being perfectly mindful, but by recognising dysfunctional thinking patterns in action.
In other words, freedom doesn’t come from pretending your thoughts are clouds. It comes from dismantling them.
And once a thought has been dismantled, it begins to lose its power — so it ceases to demand your attention.
And ironically, when you take the time to challenge your assumptions, examine your thinking, and dismantle false beliefs — your thoughts do start to feel like clouds.
Light. Insubstantial. Mostly harmless.
And eventually, you can do this in real time. You’ve taught your brain how to think in a different way. So you can observe and correct dysfunctional thinking as it happens.
But that’s the result of the process, not the process itself.
You can’t fake your way there. You have to earn it.
So no — “watch your thoughts like clouds” is not good advice. It’s a shortcut that skips the necessary work.
Interested in a simple, short, no-nonsense guide to meditation and mindfulness?
Interested in some alternatives to cloud watching? Try out one of my thought-related meditations on the Insight Timer app. It’s free.

I love this! That’s a great challenge for the new year. It is different to how I’ve approached the thinking related mindfulness. I’m looking forward to digging in and dissecting some of those regular thought patterns.
That’s great to hear Juliet. Happy dissecting!
Really interesting article and perspective and I think very sound advice. I would guess traditional (read Buddhist / spiritual) perspectives might argue it is still identifying with self, albeit in a more healthy way, rather than cultivating a sense of non-self. Although my own take on non-self is that it is very often confused with having a sort of fear of thought and thinking, implying that thinking is ‘bad’ in some way, rather than (at its best) a highly constructive resource and gift.
Interesting comment Andy. I would argue that working with your thoughts in this way actually works in service of creating a sense of ‘non-self’, as one’s thinking necessarily becomes less dogmatic and more creative. A much more fluid ‘self’ naturally arises when you’re not so tied to particular stories you tell yourself.
-A great and timely article thank you Matt. My meditations have always been thought filled and I could never ‘watch my thoughts like clouds passing’ so to speak – it’s more like going down the proverbial rabbit hole. I’m looking forward to trying these ideas in my own practice, and your article is also a nice little prompt to get back to journaling.
I’m sure you’re not the only one who finds themselves burrowing around beneath the ground, rather than floating peacefully through the sky Sally! Perhaps we need to dig a little deeper sometimes!
Do you have a session on the deconstruction of thoughts as per your article.
Really interested in looking at the issue of unhelpful thoughts through a different lens.
Hi Ian, I have a couple of guided meditations that touch upon these themes:
https://insighttimer.com/melbournemeditationcentre/guided-meditations/calm-your-buzzing-mind
https://insighttimer.com/melbournemeditationcentre/guided-meditations/making-friends-with-your-thoughts
However, deconstructing your thoughts in the way described (in the article) is a much more personal process. Journaling can help. And working with someone else is often useful, as they can often see the limitations and biases in our thinking much more clearly than we can. You could also ask your favourite AI to identify any dysfunctional patterns or cognitive distortions in your thinking when journaling about some problem area in your life.
Hi Matthew,
thanks so much for this article!
After feeling overwhelmed (or scared, or angry etc.) I need some quiet (meditative) time to condider, accept and take the sting out of those emotions. I’ve often wished I could just magically make myself chill immediately!
So your article resonated with me, and helped me to trust my own way of dealing with the slings and arrows of the world …
I love reading your emails. They are always thought provoking, interesting and kind.
Thanks again,
Rosey.
Thanks so much for your kind words Rosey. A magic chill pill would be nice! However, one’s own way is a good substitute. I’ve certainly found that trying to make someone else’s way work for me has not always worked very well!