There is no wrong way.
Back during the Raj, a traveling Englishman saw a yogi sitting in a field, and dismounted to speak with the sage. Approaching him, the Englishman was horrified to see that the yogi had placed a large stone between his legs, upon which he had splayed his nads, and was methodically pounding his junk with a brick. Cringing at the sight, the gentleman yelled, "What on Earth are you doing?" The yogi replied placidly, "Killing kittens". Recoiling, the Englisman sputtered, "Why, that's absurd. You are doing it wrong. It's supposed to feel good!" The yogi replied, "Oh, but kind sir, it does feel good. It feels good when I stop."
Like faith in nothingness, I suppose.