I was born into a Jewish family and, although not religious, I went to synagogue regularly on the Sabbath with my sister and some friends as it gave us something to do. In those days the Jewish congregation was small and we were allowed to sit with the men (the sexes are normally segregated) and take part in the rituals. It was a nice feeling. I felt at home. I think it filled a gap in my life at home where the atmosphere was quite strained.
I have earlier memories of lying in bed thinking about how space could go on infinitely and wondering whether time could go on infinitely too? Before bed, I would say, ”God bless my mother, father and all family and friends”, which, I suppose, is similar to a mettā practice.
As a teenager, I strongly craved something spiritual and longed for a mentor. I read spiritual books and was blown away by “A Treatise on White Magic” by Alice Bailey but, of course, I didn’t understand it. I found a Tibetan picture of a bodhisatta and studied it for many hours and thought it was beautiful.
As a student in South Manchester, I saw a poster for meditation. Back then there were very few groups. I turned up to a meeting. The teacher made it feel quite mystical and powerful, which was very exciting. I saw a Buddha statue for the first time and really wasn’t sure what to make of it!
After a few weeks, I felt more peaceful and had some control over my thoughts. Back then I only wanted peace of mind. However, over the years, sometimes I probably had to be dragged kicking and screaming along the path. When deeper realisations came, it seemed a real effort to integrate them and then continue. But I still carry on.