Contemplation used to be a normal part of everyday life. You see it in older writings, in philosophy, in religious traditions, and even in the way people structured their days. Long walks, quiet porches, staring into a fire, thinking something through without rushing to an answer—that was once widely understood as a human skill.

Today, it’s close to a dying art. We’ve replaced contemplative time with a constant feed of stimulation. Every micro-moment that could hold reflection is now filled before we even notice it: phones, notifications, half-watched videos, inboxes, and the general pressure to “be productive.” Researchers who look at attention and “cognitive off-loading” have been pointing out the trend for years: the average person now reaches for their phone dozens (in some studies, hundreds) of times a day, often reflexively. One paper from the University of Texas at Austin showed that simply having your phone in the room reduces working memory and attention, even if it’s face down and silent. Another line of research from the University of Virginia famously found that many participants would rather give themselves electric shocks than sit alone in a room with their thoughts for fifteen minutes.

If contemplation ever needed a marketing department, this is the moment.

At its core, contemplation is the deliberate practice of holding a single idea, question, or theme in mind—and gently exploring it. Not forcing an answer, not debating with yourself, not turning it into a to-do list. It’s more like sitting down with a question and letting it unfold at its own pace. That pace is slow, calm, and often non-linear. Contemplation is thinking without agitation. Thinking without pressure. Thinking with space.

In many ways, it’s the antidote to the speed and fragmentation of modern attention.

What makes contemplation powerful is that it’s not simply “deep thinking” or “mindfulness.” It sits somewhere between the two. Mindfulness trains you to notice what’s happening in your experience. Deep thinking pushes you toward solving a problem. Contemplation blends awareness with curiosity: a gentle inquiry that allows insights to surface rather than forcing them into existence. Philosophers from Marcus Aurelius to Hannah Arendt practised versions of it, and modern cognitive science suggests it supports creativity, emotional regulation, and long-form reasoning.

The good news is that contemplation isn’t lost. It’s just out of practice—and you can bring it back with a simple structure that fits into real life.

A Practical Guide to Getting Into the Contemplation Zone

Here’s a straightforward way to weave contemplation into your day. You can think of this as a template: something you adapt to suit yourself.

• Choose a topic or question. Pick something worth sitting with—an idea you’re curious about, a personal question, a philosophical concept, or even something practical like “What does good leadership look like in my context?” Keep it open-ended.

• Set yourself up physically. Get into a comfortable position. You don’t need the perfect meditation posture. The goal is to sit in a way you can maintain with minimal movement.

• Settle your mind first. Use a simple breathing technique—slow breaths, relaxed shoulders, nothing elaborate. It’s not meditation for its own sake; it’s just preparing the ground.

• Introduce the question. Bring it to mind gently—not as a problem to solve but as an invitation. Let it sit there.

• Give it some attention. Explore around the edges. Ask yourself small questions. Notice what images, ideas, or associations arise. Visualising the topic often helps anchor your mind.

• When you drift off, start again. Treat wandering like in meditation—normal, expected. As soon as you notice it, simply return to the question and pick up the thread.

• Use audio as a catalyst. An optional but powerful addition: once you’re calm, play a short authoritative talk or audio clip on the topic. TED Talks, academic interviews, and long-form podcasts work well. Listen attentively. When you hear something that sparks interest, pause the audio and reflect on that point. When you’re ready, play it again. It’s a rhythm: listen, pause, contemplate, continue.

• Keep movements minimal. You don’t have to close your eyes. In fact, some people find it easier to stay focused with eyes open and body still. Your aim is steady attention, not physical withdrawal.

This simple rhythm—settle, focus, wander, return—is the entire discipline.

Contemplation isn’t about breakthroughs on command. It’s about creating mental conditions where insights have room to form. Sometimes you’ll walk away with a new perspective. Sometimes you’ll simply feel more grounded. Sometimes you’ll find yourself pondering questions you didn’t realise were important.

What matters is that you’re reclaiming a cognitive space that modern life has quietly taken away.

The “dying art” narrative isn’t a lament; it’s an opportunity. Because the very fact that so few people practise contemplation now makes it a superpower for those who do. Leaders who think clearly, individuals who understand their own motives, people who can step back from noise and sit with complexity—they’re increasingly rare. Reflection deepens judgement, and judgement shapes everything else.

Contemplation is how you build that depth.

And like any craft, it strengthens with repetition. Give yourself a few sessions. Keep it light, steady, and curious. Over time, you’ll find your mind easier to guide, your thinking clearer, and your instincts quieter but more reliable.

In a world that moves fast, contemplation helps you move wisely.