This story is part of Peak, The Athletic’s desk covering the mental side of sports. Sign up for Peak’s newsletter here.
A little over a week ago, I came across a fascinating detail about Kobe Bryant’s daily routine: Every morning, he would sit alone in silence for at least 15 minutes and let his thoughts wash over him. Before games at night, he would do it again — this time visualizing obstacles and mentally rehearsing how he would respond.
Yes, the same Kobe Bryant who was known as an intimidating stickler to teammates, who treated basketball as an all-consuming obsession, and whose workouts would start as early as 4 a.m. That Kobe Bryant took at least 15 minutes every day to meditate.
“It sets me up for the rest of the day,” Bryant once said on “Oprah.” “It’s like having an anchor. If I don’t do it, I feel like I’m constantly chasing the day as opposed to being able to be controlled and dictate the day. … I have a calmness about whatever comes my way. And a poise.”
Intrigued, I pitched the idea to my editor: What if I tried it myself for a week?
There are many forms of meditation, some more intricate than others, many associated with different religious or spiritual traditions. I just wanted to sit in silence and observe my thoughts like Bryant: At least 15 minutes, no distractions, every day.
But I made my first mistake that very night.
Instead of waiting until morning, I decided to start immediately. I planned to finish all my work that day, get home and sit for 20 minutes before bed. After all, Bryant also did it at night before games, and I was eager to begin.
But my brain was already spent. Instead of observing my thoughts with curiosity, I felt a little overwhelmed by them.
Maybe this isn’t a great idea for someone who tends to ruminate, I thought.
The next day, I reset. Just after I made my coffee and before I checked my email, I sat by myself for 20 minutes. It may sound dramatic, but the difference was immediate. I felt focused and energized.
That settled it: This would be a morning ritual for me instead. No more nights.
The next morning, as my 20-minute timer went off, I thought about a concept I had recently learned while working on another story. Dr. Jonathan Jenkins, a clinical and sports psychologist who works with the Patriots and Red Sox, told me about the two different categories of fun: type I and type II.
Type I fun is enjoyable from start to finish — think beach days and dinners with friends. Type II fun, on the other hand, is more demanding. It’s often uncomfortable in the moment but satisfying in retrospect, like a tough workout you’re glad you pushed through.
At first, sitting still for 20 minutes felt like a chore. I’d swear that 15 minutes had passed only to realize that it had actually been three.
It reminded me of the final minutes of my Pilates classes, when our instructor has us hold a two-minute plank after we’ve already worked out for the past 50 minutes in a 105-degree room. Her point is to prove we’re capable of more than we think. Sitting alone with my thoughts felt similar: not particularly appealing going into it, but deeply rewarding once I’d done it.
In that quiet space, you’re almost forced to come face to face with whatever you’ve been avoiding: anything you’ve buried or brushed aside throughout the day. At the same time, there’s something refreshing about letting your mind exist without interference.
That was one of the points Bryant made. “Understand that things come and go,” he once said on a podcast. “Emotions come and go. The important thing is to accept them all, to embrace them all. And then you can choose to do with them what you want.”
There were times early in his career, he said, when he was consumed by fear and tried to push those thoughts and feelings away: Nah, it’s not good to feel fear. I shouldn’t be nervous in this situation. But that only made the fear grow.
By sitting with those thoughts in silence, Bryant was able to gain perspective on them. “It gives you the ability to look at it for what it is, which is nothing more than your imagination running its course,” he said.
I should note that I walk a lot and always have. I rarely check my phone while doing it. But even then, walks and runs are often filled with music or podcasts. There’s still a layer of distraction.
One day, I looked up the difference between sitting in silence and a quiet walk. The distinction is subtle but important: In stillness, the brain is more likely to shift into a restorative mode; while in motion, it tends to stay more reactive.
By the following morning, the 20 minutes of silence felt familiar, like I was getting the hang of it and knew what to expect. The time moved pretty quickly.
Afterward, as I sipped the last of my morning coffee, I pulled up a 2013 study from Duke University.
Researcher Imke Kirste found that two hours of daily silence can stimulate the growth of new cells in the hippocampus, or the brain region linked to memory and learning. Other researchers have found that even brief periods of silence can help lower stress and sharpen focus.
It’s part of why some elite performers build it into their routines. Athletes like Bryant and tennis star Novak Djokovic have emphasized the role of quiet reflection or meditation in their ability to make quick decisions and maintain better performance.
From my experience, the effects were subtle but noticeable. I felt a bit more motivated to tackle tasks I’d been putting off, because sitting without distractions made certain things harder to ignore.
“You get a chance to observe the self,” Bryant once said. “And things that may be lying beneath the surface that, if you don’t have that time to sit quietly on your own, you’ll never pay attention to.”
One morning, I became aware of the neck and shoulder pain I’ve been brushing aside for years. Sitting there without distraction, quite literally feeling my terrible posture, the thought was simple: Why not just make the appointment and find out?
Other thoughts surfaced just as randomly:
• I really need to book that hotel for my friend’s wedding.
• I’m really grateful for my parents. (Warning: Starting your day this way can make you unexpectedly sentimental.)
• What do I really need to accomplish today?
• I revisited a moment from the book I’m reading that triggered an old memory I hadn’t thought about in a long time (which was then followed by a bout of nostalgia).
All of this also reminded me of something Dr. Kirsten Cooper, a high-performance psychologist and former U.S alpine skier, once told me.
In graduate school, she would go into an empty room, lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling for 10 minutes. She said it was shocking how helpful it was for her just to let her brain rest.
I now have a better understanding of what she meant.
I keep thinking about the way Bryant described it: If I don’t do it, I feel like I’m constantly chasing the day. I decided I want to stick with it, so just before 9 a.m. in my kitchen in New York City, my coffee machine screeches to a halt as I grab my mug and crack open the creamer. I double-check the time on the oven before settling into my favorite spot: the jutting windowsill where I sip my coffee and look out past my fire escape at the trees curling over my neighbor’s windows.
I take a breath and lean into the morning silence.
Twenty minutes start now.
