If Meditation Makes You Feel Superior, Kill the Practice.

There’s a kind of superiority that can be hard to notice because it doesn’t look like arrogance. It can sound calm and thoughtful. We may talk about awareness, presence or consciousness while quietly feeling that we’re more evolved, more aware or somehow further along than other people.

Meditation can feed that feeling if we aren't careful. The practice becomes part of the story we tell about who we are: I'm a meditator. I'm mindful. I understand awareness. None of these things are inherently wrong. But the ego is remarkably adaptable. It can take almost anything and turn it into an identity, including the practice that is meant to help us see through our identities. 

I remember when I first started exploring meditation and learning from different teachers, I had a pretty simple idea about the people who had been practising for years. I assumed they would naturally be humble, grounded, patient and compassionate. It just seemed to make sense. If someone had spent years sitting quietly, watching their own mind and looking closely at themselves, surely they would become less caught up in themselves.

But over time, I realised it doesn't always work that way.

I met people who could sit for long periods, talk deeply about awareness and use all the right language around meditation, yet could also be judgemental, arrogant or simply not very good at listening. That was a useful lesson for me. Meditation can change the way we pay attention, but it doesn't automatically change the way we treat other people.

And perhaps that's something we don't talk about enough. You can become very experienced at meditation without necessarily becoming wiser or kinder.

This distinction matters. Meditation can train attention. It can strengthen concentration and help us become more aware of thoughts, emotions and patterns that normally run in the background. But becoming better at observing the mind isn't the same thing as becoming a better human being. 

It’s quite possible to get very good at meditation and still be attached to being right, being special, or feeling that you’re somehow better than other people. The ego doesn’t necessarily disappear because we meditate. Sometimes it just gets better at hiding. We may stop thinking, “I’m better than you,” and start thinking, “I’m more aware than you.”

It can happen in quieter ways too. We might start taking pride in the retreats we’ve attended, the teachers we’ve studied with, the traditions we know, or how long we can sit. Without really noticing it, meditation becomes another thing we compare ourselves through.

Interestingly, the longer I’ve practised, the more curious I've become. I’ve found myself reading more, exploring different traditions and questioning some of the assumptions I once took for granted. The more I look at my own mind, the more obvious it becomes how much I still don’t know.

These days, that feeling of not knowing feels more useful to me than having all the answers. It keeps the practice open.

There’s something quite humbling about paying close attention to your own mind. You start noticing how quickly you judge people, how easily you get defensive, and how often fear or insecurity is sitting underneath a reaction. You also begin to see how much of what you think about yourself has been shaped by your past. You see your strengths, but you also see the parts of yourself you’d rather not look at.

For me, the more I’ve noticed my own patterns, the harder it has become to look at someone else and think I’m somehow better than them. I can see that they have their conditioning, their fears and their blind spots, just as I have mine.

That’s why compassion has become one of the things I value most in meditation. I’m not looking for perfection or someone who always seems calm and peaceful. I’m more interested in whether the practice is making us a little more understanding, including towards the parts of ourselves that are still a work in progress.

The real way to understand whether someone has become a better person is to see what happens outside the meditation cushion. Are they becoming kinder? More patient? Less reactive? More compassionate towards themselves and other people?

It’s relatively easy to feel calm when you’re sitting quietly in a room designed for meditation. The more interesting question is what happens when someone annoys you, criticises you, disagrees with you or behaves in a way you don’t like. Can you still recognise your own reactions? Can you pause before judging? Are you still compassionate and patient?

Meditation doesn’t guarantee any of this. But perhaps it gives us an opportunity to notice what gets in the way.

And that, to me, is where the practice becomes meaningful.

For me, meditation isn’t really about becoming a better meditator. It’s about becoming more aware of myself — my reactions, my fears, my habits, my ego and the things I still don’t see clearly. And then asking whether seeing those things more clearly actually changes the way I live and the way I treat other people.

Maybe that is a more useful way to think about progress. Not how deeply we can meditate, or how peaceful we can become during a session, but whether we are beginning to see ourselves more honestly.

And that brings me back to the question I keep asking myself: Is my meditation practice helping me see my ego more clearly, or am I simply giving my ego a more spiritual identity?

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I’m a meditation and mindfulness teacher based in Fort Kochi, India, where I guide people through meditation, mindfulness practices, and sound baths to help cultivate greater calm, clarity, and resilience. Whether you’re beginning your journey or deepening an existing practice, I hope these reflections encourage you to pause, breathe, and reconnect with yourself. www.nihshreyasa.com.