To choose a starting point seems almost arbitrary but I will begin when I was a teenager. I was, it seems now, quite ludicrously rebellious. At the time it felt like had a demon in me, prompting me to behave outrageously and, at times, offensively. It could have become completely out of hand, but, in my late teens, somehow, I managed to rein it back in. I settled down, passed my exams and went to university. There I encountered new people and new ideas and… drugs. I was particularly drawn to ‘consciousness raising’ drugs such as LSD. They gave me a sense of greater potential; greater understanding but, it was clear, from my own experience and witnessing others around me, that I was playing with fire. However, I continued to take them because they opened a window to a different kind of experience and because I felt that there was something inside me holding back, and not letting me go fully into that experience. I wanted to break through!
Like many others at the time, I was also drawn to ideas coming from the East – unusual diets, interesting philosophy and meditation. Someone I knew was already practising meditation and introduced me to his teacher. I was very disappointed when, instead of offering me a whole new world, he suggested I pay much more attention to the contact and feeling when I washed my hands –he couldn’t be serious! I did not begin meditation practice but after finishing university I set off travelling, hoping to physically broaden my experience.
I had many experiences on my travels, often tinged with a nagging feeling that something within me was still holding back and would not let go fully into the experience until, near to the end of my year of travelling, I was caught in the middle of a major earthquake. The violent shaking and rumbling which awoke me in the middle of the night was completely terrifying. The following night I slept outdoors and on the ground and I can still remember listening to the deep rumbling underground. I felt as if the earth could tear open at any moment and swallow me up. Needless to say, I found it very difficult to sleep. That experience, more than any other, made a deep impression on me – I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was nowhere on earth that was a safe refuge!
When I returned from my travels, I visited some friends who had recently taken up Samatha meditation and, at their invitation, attended my first class. I did not find it easy in any way. Sitting for five minutes was painful and difficult. The class was strangely quiet and the teacher seemed rather stiff and formal but, somehow, I knew straight away that this was the right path. And I am still trying to follow it, 33 years later! I have continued to follow it because it encourages letting go into experience, whether painful or pleasant, and it still holds the promise of expanding into broader and broader worlds of experience and, ultimately, liberation.