Probably the best way to detach from the future.
But I'm always stumped when someone asks me about it.
How do you meditate? I have no idea. It depends.
My own practice has changed a lot.
But if I had to pin down a few constants, whether stated outright or in the negative, here's what I'd say:
1. Meditation isn't prescriptive
There's no obligation, no goal to reach.
"I have to do this."
"I shouldn't feel that."
"I have to reach a certain state."
No: the whole point is to step out of goals and outside obligations.
There's nothing to do. Some will say you just have to "be".
But that's a bit too vague to be useful.
Here's how it can break down:
2. At the core: acceptance
Probably the most important part.
Taking in and accepting what's here, now.
In particular: the state you're in.
The goal isn't to be calmer, more detached.
The goal isn't to change your state.
But to become fully aware of it.
Not pushing away emotions or thoughts. Accepting them. Living them.
But I can see where you're going:
"Doesn't accepting then become... a goal? Haven't we just swapped one goal for another?"
For me, it's not a goal but a mechanic: something you do without expecting any result.
It happens in two steps:
3. Spotting and releasing attachments
Either I'm in the flow of the present:
Sensations, thoughts and emotions follow one another.
None of them stays long.
This short cycle keeps me available for whatever comes up now: the sound, the next thought, the ray of sunlight.
That's presence. Nothing more. A flow.
Or the same mental content gets stuck and keeps coming back.
A thought, an anxiety, an obligation.
Coming again and again between me and the present.
That's an attachment.
Normally, we try to get rid of it through action.
Solving the problem at its source, by acting.
In meditation, you notice it and accept it.
Knowing that, for me, accepting means:
4. Resting your attention on the body
You're sitting at a café table.
Have you noticed that, without moving, you could direct your attention to whichever part of the body you chose?
You can suddenly become aware of the tip of your foot. Your elbow. The top of your head. Your whole body.
(Which is rather magical when you think about it.)
For me, accepting a piece of mental content means directing my attention to how it shows up in the body.
Because attachments always have a physical manifestation.
A thought that isn't tied to a bodily sensation... passes.
So I never try to chase away the thought or the emotion.
I just rest my attention on the tension, the weight, the discomfort (...) in the body that goes with it.
I quietly watch it transform.
Without expecting any result.
5. Repeat
So my goal is never to feel better.
I simply become aware of the flow.
When the flow stops, I rest my attention on what's blocking it.
Not to solve the problem or unblock the situation.
But because, for me, that's what meditation is.
A mechanic. One that isn't aimed at a result.
And yet, in the end, it helps.
Because the thoughts that torment you day to day are probably reactive.
Without realizing it, you set them up yourself to avoid emotions that scare you.
By learning to accept, you stop avoiding.
And the anxiety engine eventually runs out of fuel.