My friend Pat wants me to sit down. She wants me to sit down, sit still and meditate. Because it was I who introduced the practice to her.

“20th September 1989,” Pat reminds. She remembers the exact date. It was that important to her. She says she benefitted enormously from it and is eternally grateful to me. She wishes me to start meditation again and experience the benefits.

I had not been meditating for a few years already.

Okay. Immediately after she hung up the telephone, I sat up (as I had been lying down) in half-lotus posture and closed my eyes. Automatically, my mantra or prayer word came back. So did the usual distractions.

After some time, I felt it was time to stop. I said a short prayer, opened my eyes and looked at the time. Twenty minutes. Almost to the dot. This was the time I usually took for meditation. After such a long break from meditation, I still could keep time. I felt refreshed. And thankful to Pat for urging me on.

Okay. Immediately after she hung up the telephone, I sat up (as I had been lying down) in half-lotus posture and closed my eyes. Automatically, my mantra or prayer word came back. So did the usual distractions.

After some time, I felt it was time to stop. I said a short prayer, opened my eyes and looked at the time. Twenty minutes. Almost to the dot. This was the time I usually took for meditation. After such a long break from meditation, I still could keep time. I felt refreshed. And thankful to Pat for urging me on.

I like to tell about how I came to learn - and later “teach” - meditation. It’s a story of some extraordinary coincidences, and of how I had to abandon some strong pre-conceived ideas.

I like to begin by telling about my friend George who plays the saxophone. He was a nightclub musician and I had met him when I also worked as a part-time nightclub musician during my university holidays. I played the trombone.

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Adventures in India

George used to tell me fantastic stories about his adventures in India, about yogis who could control the weather, or remain buried alive for months. I did not quite know what to make of these stories. They were incredible. Yet George related them so convincingly that it was hard not to believe. I did not think he had reason to cook them up. I was fascinated.

That was in the 1970s. After that, we lost touch.

Then on 15 March 1989 - I remember the date because it was the day I left my job as a newspaper journalist, to publish my own newsletter on natural health - I met George again.

I told George about my plans. I added that I would like to also write about the spiritual aspects of health, but I did not know enough to write. “Don’t worry,” George said. “When you do it, you will know what to write.”

George then told me that his guru from India would soon be visiting. I could meet the person if I wanted.

I did not feel totally comfortable, however. Much that I was fascinated, I felt uneasy about people with supernatural powers. I had grown up in the Catholic Church and was not ready to learn spiritual practices from an Indian guru.

I had met George on a Wednesday. That Sunday, when I went to church, the priest announced that a Christian meditation group would start the following week. What a coincidence. Right away, I knew this was what I should go for.

My first lesson in Christian meditation was, however, a disappointment. I was interested in meditation from the health angle, for I had read about it being able to reduce stress, lower blood pressure and produce a wide range of health benefits.

Yet I was told by the person who conducted the class - incidentally, he was a medical doctor - that one should not look to meditation for health benefits.

In fact, he said one should not expect any sort of benefit from meditation - not even the feeling of inner peace, and certainly not the acquisition of supernatural powers. The whole purpose of meditation was to “let go” - to let go all goals and expectations, let go the attitude of always wanting to achieve something.

It wasn’ t that I wanted to control the weather, but I thought some stress reduction or feelings of peace were reasonable to hope for. I felt very much disappointed.

I also felt disappointed as I had hoped to learn some techniques of meditation - like how to sit or how to breathe - but was told not to focus on techniques. I was only given a mantra or prayer word - everyone in the group was given the same mantra - and told to repeat it over and over. Should I get distracted along the way, all I need to do is to return to saying the mantra.

That’s all. There is nothing much to learn. In a matter of minutes, I had learnt how to meditate. Now to get on with the most important part: meditate.

We were recommended to meditate every day, twice a day. The recommended minimum time was 20 minutes.

The rest of the teaching was about how meditation is, in fact, prayer. Since this was being taught in a Catholic church, a lot of the teaching centred on how meditation is actually in line with Christian practice, not against it.

Despite my initial disappointments, I found that the teachings made much sense - especially the idea of not having goals and letting go of achievements.

And so I became a part of the World Community for Christian Meditation. After about six months, on 20 September 1989, I started another group in my church to share the teachings.

Meanwhile, I did get my Indian guru after all, although indirectly. The World Community for Christian Meditation group was started by an English Benedictine monk, the late John Main.

He had learnt meditation from a Hindu swami!

PS: As I prepare to launch this website - it is now just past midnight on 17 June, 2002 and I am about to upload the site in a few minutes - I realised that most of the work in putting all this together took place after I resumed my daily meditation.

Coincidence?

I think not. I believe meditation gave me the energy to do all this.