There is a different way of sitting that the Indian sages discovered long ago. Not following the breath. Not repeating a word. Simply turning the attention back upon the one who is paying attention.
It is the most direct practice and the most disorienting. Be patient with it.
The question
Sit. Close the eyes. A thought arises — about work, about a person, about whether you are doing this right. Instead of pushing it away, ask, silently and gently:
Who is having this thought?
Or, in another form: To whom does this thought come?
Do not answer with words. Words will lead you back into thinking. Simply turn the attention back toward the source — the felt sense of I — and rest there.
What you find
At first you find nothing in particular. A blankness. A sense that you cannot quite locate the I you have been referring to all your life. This is not failure. This is the beginning of something.
Stay with that not-finding. Do not rush back into another thought just to fill the room. The not-finding is the practice.
Returning, always
Within seconds, a new thought will arise. Inquire again — to whom does this come? — and again the answer will be: to me. And again the inquiry: who am I? And again, a quiet not-finding.
Over time the gap between thoughts grows. Not because you have suppressed anything, but because you have stopped feeding the chain.