Imagery-Based Meditation

What It Is 

Introduction: what this blog is, and what it isn’t

This post is not a guided meditation.

It’s not a how-to.
It’s not a promise.
And it’s not something I recommend people jump into blindly.

This is a conceptual framing of a meditation style that showed up for me after years of mindfulness and focused attention practice. It’s an explanation of what imagery-based meditation is, how it differs from more traditional approaches, who it may resonate with, and who should be cautious.

The practice itself will come in a future blog.

This one is about understanding the terrain before you walk into it.

I’m writing this because a lot of people assume meditation is one rigid thing. Sit still. Focus on the breath. Quiet the mind. And if that doesn’t work, they assume they’re bad at meditation.

I don’t think that’s true.

I think different minds settle in different ways. This is one of the ways mine learned to settle.

How I arrived here

I didn’t start meditating this way.

My foundation is mindfulness meditation and focused attention meditation. I practiced those consistently for years, especially while recovering from panic disorder and chronic rumination. That practice taught me how to notice thoughts, return to a home base, and regulate my nervous system instead of fighting it.

Only after that groundwork was in place did something else begin to happen.

During meditation, imagery started to appear on its own. Not forced. Not planned. Entire environments would unfold without effort. I wasn’t visualizing outcomes or imagining goals. I was watching worlds build themselves while I stayed present inside them.

At first, I didn’t label it. I didn’t even know if it “counted” as meditation.

Over time, I realized this wasn’t distraction.

It was absorption. A kind of deep engagement where attention wasn’t wrestling with thought, it was resting inside experience.

And the surprising part for me was this: instead of pulling me away from awareness, it anchored me more deeply into it.

If you’ve ever sat with a cup of coffee and realized your shoulders dropped without you meaning to…
Or you’ve stared out a window and an hour disappeared, not because you were “lost,” but because your mind finally stopped gripping so tight…
You might recognize the feeling I’m talking about.

Meditation isn’t one-size-fits-all

There’s a quiet assumption in wellness culture that meditation looks the same for everyone.

In reality, human cognition varies widely. Attention styles vary. Imagery ability varies. Emotional regulation varies. What calms one nervous system can agitate another.

Some people regulate best through stillness and simplicity.
Some regulate best through repetition and structure.
Some regulate best through immersion.

Struggling with a specific meditation style doesn’t mean you lack discipline or awareness. A lot of times, it just means the method doesn’t match how your mind naturally organizes experience.

Imagery-based meditation isn’t better than other approaches. It’s simply different.

And for certain minds, it can feel more natural than trying to force attention into a narrow channel.

A quick but necessary clarification: imagery ability

Before going any further, it helps to name something most people experience but don’t have language for.

Some people can create vivid mental imagery. Others cannot. And neither is a flaw.

Aphantasia is a term used for reduced or absent voluntary mental imagery.
Hyperphantasia refers to the other end of the spectrum: imagery so vivid it can feel close to perception.

Most people fall somewhere in between.

Imagery-based meditation relies on internal visualization. That means it will naturally resonate more with people who experience imagery vividly. People with aphantasia are not “bad at meditation.” This simply wouldn’t be the right entry point for them.

That distinction matters, because frustration often comes from trying to force a practice that doesn’t match how the mind works.

What imagery-based meditation actually is

Imagery-based meditation is not goal visualization.

It is not manifestation.
It is not rehearsing your future.
It is not solving problems in your head.

In this style, imagery arises without a destination. You don’t decide what appears. You don’t push the scene forward. You don’t assign meaning.

You observe.

The experience feels less like “imagining” and more like watching something unfold. The role of attention is receptive rather than directive. You’re present inside the imagery without needing to control it.

That distinction is critical.

Because the moment imagery becomes effortful, it tends to shift into thinking. And this practice is not meant to be thinking.

It’s meant to be immersion.

How this differs from focused attention meditation

Focused attention meditation trains the ability to notice distraction and return to a single anchor, often the breath or a body sensation. It builds stability through repetition.

Imagery-based meditation uses a different attentional posture.

Instead of narrowing attention to one point, attention rests within an immersive internal environment. Rather than returning again and again to a small anchor, attention stays engaged with a scene that continues to unfold.

Both practices involve awareness.
Both require the ability to notice when the mind drifts into rumination.
But the container is different.

For some minds, immersion prevents rumination more effectively than constantly trying to “pull away” from thought. Not because thoughts disappear, but because attention is already fully engaged.

This isn’t escape.

It’s engagement without friction.

Researchers use words like absorption (deeply engaged attention) and flow (a state of full task absorption and reduced self-referential thinking) to describe nearby territory.
I don’t mean that as a label you need to chase. I just want you to know there’s language for this kind of experience.

Why this can feel calming for some minds

Rumination thrives in open cognitive space.

When the mind isn’t anchored, it fills the space with loops—replaying, predicting, scanning. That kind of repetitive self-referential thinking has been associated in research with patterns in the brain’s default mode network, which shows up during rest and mind-wandering.

Imagery-based meditation can occupy that space with coherent experience, reducing the bandwidth available for looping.

This isn’t about “turning off” the mind.

It’s about giving attention something stable enough to rest inside.

A lot of people describe this as feeling settled rather than quiet.

And honestly, that matters. Because some of us don’t need silence first. We need steadiness.

A note for creatives

This practice especially resonates with creative minds.

For me, imagery-based meditation doesn’t drain imagination. It feeds it. It expands my internal landscape rather than exhausting it. After practicing, writing feels easier. Planning feels clearer. Creative work feels less forced.

I don’t enter these inner worlds with an agenda. But something about letting imagination move without output pressure restores creative capacity instead of consuming it.

This matters because a lot of creatives burn out not from lack of imagination, but from never letting imagination exist without demand.

Imagery-based meditation gives imagination a place to move without being productive.

And sometimes that alone is regulating.

Like noticing a dandelion in the yard and remembering that you used to see it as a small miracle… before adulthood trained you to see it as a problem to solve.

Same thing. Different lens.

An important caution before anyone tries this

This isn’t a beginner meditation.

Imagery can amplify emotional content. And for some people, meditation practices can bring up distressing experiences, like increased anxiety, dissociation, or difficult memories, especially if they’re already dealing with high levels of stress or recent mental health symptoms. 

If you struggle with intrusive thoughts, severe anxiety, active depression, dissociation, or suicidal ideation, imagery can get hijacked by those states and reinforce them rather than calm them.

This practice generally assumes a foundation: the ability to notice rumination, return to a home base, and regulate escalation when it starts.

That doesn’t mean imagery-based meditation is “bad.”

It means it comes later.

Caution isn’t fear. It’s respect for how the mind works.

If this topic hits close to home, it may be worth exploring meditation with a trauma-informed professional or teacher, especially if you have a trauma history or dissociation.

Where this fits in a meditation journey

Imagery-based meditation isn’t a replacement.

It’s an extension.

It builds on equanimity, attentional stability, and emotional regulation. Some people will never use it, and that’s perfectly fine. Others will find it becomes a powerful addition once foundational skills are in place.

There’s no hierarchy here.

Only fit.

In a future blog

In a future blog, I’ll share the practice itself.

How to transition safely.
How to set intention without control.
How to let imagery unfold without forcing it.
How to steer gently if anxiety shows up.
How to exit without feeling disoriented.

This post is about knowing what this is.

The practice deserves to be approached carefully, responsibly, and without mysticism.

Closing

Meditation isn’t about silencing the mind.

It’s about changing your relationship to experience.

Some minds rest best in stillness.
Some rest best in structure.
Some rest best in worlds.

None are superior.

They’re just different doors.

And if one door never opened for you, it doesn’t mean you failed. It might just mean you’ve been trying to enter the wrong way.

Anchor your mind. Find your harbor.

References & Further Reading

Aphantasia (coining/definition; Zeman et al., 2015):
https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0010945215001781
Open-access copy (PDF):
https://www.research.ed.ac.uk/files/21561082/Sala_etal_C_2015_Lives_without_imagery.pdf

Aphantasia & Hyperphantasia overview (Trends in Cognitive Sciences; Zeman, 2024):
https://www.cell.com/trends/cognitive-sciences/fulltext/S1364-6613%2824%2900034-2
PubMed record:
https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/38548492/

Aphantasia systematic review (Jin et al., 2024):
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC11437436/

Absorption definition (Menzies et al., 2008; references Tellegen & Atkinson):
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC2810559/

Flow overview in neuroscience terms (van der Linden et al., 2020):
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC7983950/

Mind-wandering and the default network (Mason et al., 2007):
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC1821121/

Rumination + default mode network meta-analytic review (Hamilton et al., 2015):
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC4524294/

Meditation experience and default mode network differences (Brewer et al., 2011):
https://www.pnas.org/doi/10.1073/pnas.1112029108

Measuring meditation-related adverse effects (Britton et al., 2021):
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC8845498/

Systematic review of adverse events in meditation (Farias et al., 2020):
https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/acps.13225

Trauma-sensitive mindfulness handout (NMVVRC; practical cautions):
https://nmvvrc.org/media/2kxgqipf/trauma-sensitive-mindfulness-and-meditation.pdf

Mindfulness-based treatments for PTSD (Boyd et al., 2017):
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC5747539/