Retreat

Shrine to Shakyamuni and Vajrapani, Taraloka, September 2019

Last week I slept in my tent in the grounds of a women's retreat centre on the Welsh border. It wasn't easy to find, mainly because I forgot how untrustworthy my satnav is - it took me to the general location, but I had to resort to Google maps for the last couple of miles. It wasn't raining as I put up the tent, but after that it rained solidly, persistently, pitilessly for very nearly all the time I was there (although it wasn't actively raining when I took the tent down at the end). On one day it was sunny in the afternoon, and then the night was cloudless and the temperature plummeted, but I had borrowed two extra duvets from the centre as well as a hot water bottle so I was actually too hot.

Accommodation aside, there were 21 of us including 5 who were helping to run the activities, and a couple of other staff who did the cooking for us. The food was vegan, delicious and plentiful. We all had about an hour's work to do every day - chopping veg, washing up, cleaning - and for the rest of the day there were scheduled activities, plenty of free time, and a proper break from routine. No TV, radio, phones, email, Internet. For all we knew the outside world could be going through an apocalypse but if it was out of earshot and didn't show up in the sky we would have been blissfully unaware.

It was blissful, actually. The second worst thing that happened to me all week was that I swapped places to be in a different chair in the shrine room without knowing that they were rearranging the shrine room so the change of seating was completely ineffective. The worst thing that happened to me all week was that I was forced to go first when we were talking in pairs - doesn't sound very bad, but I really didn't like it at the time.

The daily routine was an early start for meditating before breakfast, including gentle exercises that I didn't want to join in with on the first day but looked forward to by the end of the week. After breakfast there was free time, then a session before lunch, another break, a session before the evening meal and then some sort of ritual before bed, which for me was about 9.30 p.m. given that I needed to get up at 6 a.m. I'd prepared for the ritual stuff by getting my local group to focus on ritual for the previous four weeks, and I gave it a try, but it's not really my thing.

We spent about three days in silence. This seems like an odd thing to do, and it is, but it seemed to serve two purposes. First, it really frees up thinking space. You don't get sucked into conversations, or have to seek out somewhere quiet to do some reading. The second effect is that it removes the social pressure to make conversation, to think of things to say over meals, to fill silences with trivia, complaint or just small talk. The downside is that during that silent time you don't get to know much about the people you are with, or make meaningful connections beyond passing the peanut butter. But silence isn't so much a rule as a guideline. Rather than protracted miming it was perfectly acceptable to ask quietly "Where are the spare duvets kept?", and if you wanted to have a conversation it was fine to go for a walk along the canal.

As for what I learnt, it wasn't very much about Buddhism. The theme of the week was 'Mindfully Alive', and as usual much of the talk was about existential concepts that I can't easily grasp (which is why I wanted to go second when we were working in pairs). But I got to grips with Buddhist ritual, met some lovely people, did a lot of reading and thinking, some walking and writing, slept happily in my rain-sodden tent, slowed right down and enjoyed the silence. A calm, positive effect persisted through the weekend, and of course was dispelled almost immediately at work on Monday by my colleagues.

Goddess face, Adhisthana, July 2019

On retreat

Adhisthana, June 2018

I had to spend more than a week without WiFi in the end. It's back now, but I have yet to knuckle down and replace the washing machine, which is officially dead.

During this period offline I finally reached a point where I had to take notice of what the bathroom scales were telling me. It's been quite easy to see the numbers creeping upward and do nothing about it, although it's been seven years since my main weight loss event took place so less than a kilogram gained each year isn't too bad. But on Tuesday I couldn't ignore it any longer, and I have embarked on a serious weight loss plan. I have written it all down, and unlike all my recent half-hearted attempts I'm telling everyone. My Tuesday BMI was 25.6 kg/m², and I'm aiming for a BMI of 23.5 kg/m² which requires 5 kg reduction. After one week I had reached 24.9 kg/m² which is excellent, but I don't imagine every week will produce this sort of improvement.

There's been quite a lot of Buddhism recently, which has also helped my resolution in the dietary department with its vegan approach and emphasis on managing the mind. Because it's all about the mind. After just a week on the new diet regime I had stopped craving something sweet after supper, and if the craving is gone it's much easier to stick to the plan.

I went to the Birmingham Buddhist Centre for Buddha day and did some meditating and chatting with interesting people, including a few who I'm starting to get to know. I avoided the formal ceremonial stuff which I don't enjoy but happens at the end so it's easy to leave early. Then the following weekend I went on my first weekend residential Buddhist retreat, at a centre in the Herefordshire countryside. It's where the founder of the particular Buddhist movement that I've become involved with still lives at the age of over ninety, but also contains a number of residential houses for longer stays as well as the rooms let out for weekends. It's a beautiful setting, which is handy because I'd just run out of pictures for this blog.

Meals were vegan, the timetable included meditation, discussion and free time, some of it in silence which suits me very well. People on my more commercial holidays accuse me of being 'anti-social' if I don't want to join in their alcohol-fuelled evening activities, but here you are expected to spend time with your own thoughts. Many of us went for a lovely walk in the glorious weather on Saturday afternoon and I got the chance to chat to the leader of our Tuesday group. There isn't much time for chat on a Tuesday.

Morning meditation was a revelation - 50 minutes starting at 7 a.m., followed by a 10 minute break and then another 30 minutes. I thought I'd have a go at the long one, thinking I could always duck out and skip the following session. Being away from everything with no pressure and nothing to do made it so much easier than trying to silence all the chatter in my mind at home. I sat for the whole 90 minutes both mornings without difficulty.

The theme for study was a tale about a rich man and his wayward son, who represented 'the enlightened mind' and our ordinary minds. We didn't spend overmuch time in study, but I couldn't avoid the formal ceremonial stuff this time. Sitting through it again hasn't changed my mind about it. Altogether the retreat wasn't the transformational experience that others have reported, but I'm planning to do it again. At some point I'll have a go at a week rather than a weekend.

Back home, there's bad news about neighbourly relations with the Pub Next Door. For the first time in the 16 years I have lived here I've had to consult the terms of the pub license. The only thing I've objected to in all that time has been music in the beer garden, and up until Friday there has never been a problem. But they put on a live band, and although the music was good and it only lasted two hours there wasn't a room in my house where it couldn't be heard very clearly. I spoke to the landlord who told me that he was planning to do this every Friday night through the summer. So I have asked our local councillor to clarify some of the terms of the licence, spoken to a couple of the other neighbours, and will decide what to do when the position is clearer.

Some good news though - the new lawnmower blade arrived, I fitted it without a problem and it works a whole lot better than the previous blunt stick of metal.

Buddhism for a beginner

Krakow Botanic Gardens, July 2016

Since my local group was offering another series of introductory sessions for people new to meditation, I started going to Birmingham Buddhist Centre for a six-week course entitled 'Going Deeper', all about the Noble Eightfold Path (don't ask). This is aimed at those who are fairly new to meditation and Buddhism who might just have finished the introductory course. I've been meditating for a bit longer than this, but I don't consider myself to be an expert by any means, and the group in Leamington is too small to offer this type of course. The Birmingham Centre has a much greater attendance - there are three different groups running on a Tuesday alone.

To start the evening we do some meditation, and because there are quite a lot of new people there's a lot of spoken guidance which distracts me. And someone in the room breathes so loudly and deeply that I am sure they have fallen asleep. Then there's a tea break, and then there's the talking and instructional bit.

I do not enjoy it very much. The problem lies somewhere on the continuum between my desire for very concrete and practical ideas, the two leaders' teaching skills, and the course being designed and written by someone else entirely. Much of their guidance just makes no sense to me. Here's an example I've made up: "Open your emotional state to connect with something deeper." I know what all the individual words mean, and I think get the gist of what is meant, but I have no idea how to carry out the instruction. I'm prepared to believe that some people in the room do know what to do with this stuff, but a part of me just thinks it's the Emperor's New Clothes and nobody has a clue what they are talking about.

Up to now I've found Buddhist principles to be eminently sensible and applicable to improving the quality of my life, as well as being likely to make other people and the planet feel a bit better too. So I want to know a bit more than just the two main sorts of meditation, and at the moment it feels like smoke, a cloud, a shadow - there's probably something there but I can't grasp it. And words like 'transcendence', 'self-enlightenment', 'conditioned existence' don't help in the least, and nor does the fact that the words for the concepts being described come from Eastern languages with no direct English translation.

My difficulty is somewhat exemplified by the two main types of meditation. One is called 'Mindfulness of Breathing', and I understand how to do it because it's all about doing - focussing and maintaining attention on the breath, in and out. That makes sense. The other doesn't even have an English name, it's called 'Metta Bhavana' and translates into something like 'the development of lovingkindness'. Instead of focussing on something physical like breathing it's aim is to foster a feeling, or an attitude, and I simply can't work out how that's done. Either I feel, or I don't. I'm probably not consciously aware of all the attitudes I hold. How does one create a feeling or an attitude by sitting and thinking about it?

I wasn't sure what to do with this frustration about the Birmingham course. My experienced Buddhist friend gave me a few tips, and I carried on to week 4 in case it became clear, and because despite the distracting spoken guidance and noisy breathing I still like meditating. But week 4 was about, well, I'm not sure what it was about, but we looked at some pictures and talked about archetypes, and the sun and moon as opposites, and what a halo represents, and how sitting on the ground makes you grounded, and I couldn't take it any more.

So I went back to the Leamington group and it felt like coming home. I felt welcome, and included, and best of all I understood the gist of the discussion, which was about four aspects of mindfulness (self, others, things, reality) and it seemed to make sense. I will probably try again with the Birmingham option but will take more care with my choice of group next time.

Hair today

Krakow Botanical Gardens, July 2016

It's been a long time since I sat down to write, and I was wondering why. I'm pretty sure it's because of an HBO television series called 'The Newsroom', which I started renting from LoveFilm because it is written by Aaron Sorkin, who also wrote the best TV I have ever watched ('The West Wing'). The Newsroom is not as good as The West Wing, but it is a very close second, and I bought the DVDs and have been rewatching the first series before even going on to series 2. Each episode is about 45 minutes, which I would otherwise spend noodling on the laptop, hence the lack of blogging. I could be watching an episode now, that's the sacrifice I'm making.

Recent activity: weeks ago I visited Lola II and Mr M for a weekend, my colleague left work and we had a night out to celebrate and commiserate, I had a large percentage of my hair cut off, I had a long meeting with the builder who's going to manage my kitchen renovation, there was an election, and I went to work and badminton and meditation in the usual way. We also did some meditation in the park as our contribution to Buddhist Action Month. BAM! "Don't just do something, sit there!"

While I was visiting Lola II and Mr M we went to a performance of 'Roller Diner' in London's Soho, and it was rather good, although it took a while for me to get comfortable with the style of it. I haven't been to the theatre for quite a long time, and our seats were right at the front so not much distance between me and the actors. Despite my assertion that being called 'Roller Diner' meant that there was bound to be roller skating in it, there wasn't. I didn't mind being wrong on this occasion, because there was plenty to keep me interested. Based on this experience I wouldn't mind going to the theatre again.

We also went to a Street Food event at Alexandra Palace and then a lovely long walk on Sunday, and it was the Bank Holiday weekend so I even had Monday to get more done at home. There's still so much to do, although I'm gradually moving the old downstairs office upstairs, and emptying the kitchen into the old downstairs office and getting rid of whatever I don't use through Freegle, Nextdoor.com, Facebook Marketplace, eBay and the 'Household Waste Recycling Centre' (aka the local tip). Talking of eBay, the big philatelic project is nearing its conclusion with a total net profit of more than £250 as of today. I've finished selling the main postal mechanisation literature, and the very last bit is stamp booklets which is something new to me.

Then there was that general election as well. International politics at the moment feels like a particularly violent roller coaster ride with no option to get off. Just keep riding, and endure what's in store over the next political horizon - will it be a gentle bend or a vertical drop? I don't think there is the same sense of imminent catastrophe as there was at the height of the Cold War, just a sick feeling that our society is becoming ever more divisive and those holding political power have very little in common with either my way of thinking or of those who would disagree with me. Political thinking has never felt more like a gambling habit. I do often wonder how it will end.

Bats and nesting birds

Krakow Botanical Gardens, July 2016

Things that are great, or at least fine
Progress on the LTRP - very slow progress, but very satisfying
Lighting the fire, sitting on the sofa and watching a film
Not gaining weight
Having one day off a week
Living on my own
Lola II volunteering to create the annual family calendar

Things I am struggling with, or are a bit rubbish
Being unable to synchronise my iPod with iTunes (OK, not that bad but VERY annoying at the moment)
Not losing weight
Thinking about the global and the UK political situation
Getting round to doing some of the difficult jobs that are lined up
The broken porch light **

Ilf has now had a go at the electric lights in the upstairs room and had to concede that he can't work out what's wrong with them. Most unusually, I have acted swiftly rather than procrastinating for weeks and contacted the electrician who most recently replaced the fuse box. Given that Ilf advertises himself as a painter and decorator I don't hold it against him that he can't manage complicated electrics, and I even let him actually do some painting and decorating. The bathroom is now looking lovely but needs a new cabinet.

I visited the Council website where planning applications are tracked. It took a while to work out how to navigate the site, but to my surprise I found that two comments had been lodged. The first exhorts the planning department to attach notes related to bats and nesting birds to any approval granted. Apparently these are protected:

"It is a criminal offence to recklessly disturb or destroy a bat 'roost', even if the roost is only occasionally used ... If evidence of bats is found during works, work should stop immediately and Natural England must be contacted on 0300 060 3900 for advice on the best way to proceed." 

I have never seen a bat in the garden, but you never know. It would clearly be a right nuisance if one is found. I need to plant some garlic and sprinkle holy water. Or is that against zombies?

Nesting birds are just as important to the ecologists.

"The main nesting season lasts approximately from March to September, so work should ideally take place outside these dates if at all possible. N.B birds can nest at any time, and the site should ideally be checked by a suitably qualified ecologist for their presence immediately before work starts, especially if during the breeding season."

The other comment is much shorter and less exciting, and appears to be the outcome of the recent site visit by the planning officer:

"No objection."

So that seems positive, although the conservation officer wants the lantern skylight to be fashioned from painted metal rather than UPVC. The architect checked that this would be OK with me, and then submitted an amended drawing within which the only change I can detect are the words "Metal Roof Lantern" next to the roof lantern on the plans. I have also had two letters through so far from building companies offering their services, who must have seen the public notice in the paper (and there's one on the lamppost).

My Buddhist friend has visited and we had a nice chat and a long walk and vegan food and even did a bit of meditation together. Another job I had lined up for him was to help me remove the larger items from the loft that I couldn't manage on my own. When it was all done I was about to climb the stepladder to close the loft hatch when he reached up and closed it without even standing on tiptoe. Tall people can be very handy sometimes.

At the meditation group, one of the attendees had responded enthusiastically when I said that one of the things I enjoy is reading. "I've written a book," he said. "Do you want to read it?" Of course I said yes. "It costs £7.99," he said. So I was suckered, but I duly handed over the money in exchange for a nicely-produced self-published book. I've started reading it and it will appear in an upcoming book review blog post. I will need to think carefully about how to word my response if he asks how I like it.

** Porch light update - I am an idiot, I forgot to check the fuse box trip switches. The porch light is not and never was broken.

Gradually getting older

June 2016

The narrative of my mundane existence has been interrupted with the academic treatise about exercise and Type 1 Diabetes, but rest assured there is still excitement going on behind the curtain. I'm breaking down the fourth wall for you, go ahead, take a peek at the state of my life, and don't forget to be thankful for your own.

I have recently been incredibly unenthusiastic about running and have thought seriously on more than one occasion how nice it would be to retire. Not that I dislike my job, I reckon by previous experience it will be another five years or so before I start getting bored and then I'll be closer to 60 than 50. When I was growing up, retirement age for women was 60 - although back then 60 was an incomprehensible age, and has only become solid and tangible in the last couple of years. State retirement age for people of my age is at least 66 now, and I expect it will be 70 by the time I get there. But I digress - I have just been a bit more tired than usual, less motivated to get moving. I hope it's a phase that will pass.

It's possible that some of the lower energy levels relate to the effort of the LTRP, which I have been shoving forward inch by reluctant inch. Olf returned to work on the garage and the roof is now done, but he had a lot more trouble with the lock, and has gone away again to think about it. Ilf also returned and did a couple more jobs, and now we have to wait for me to empty the loft so he can do the electric lights in the room below, and for him to find some suitable wood to make a little house for the outside tap to keep it insulated and warm in the winter.

I have spent a tiresome afternoon up a ladder in the garden trimming the wisteria, after watching Alan Titchmarsh and another fellow on YouTube showing me how to do it. As I reached the top of the ladder I discovered that my neglect over the past few years has resulted in the wisteria making a bid for freedom and heading off for at least 10 meters along the wall between the gardens behind mine. To think I used to worry about killing plants in my garden. I've probably got another two carloads of vegetation to take to the tip, and the grass badly needs mowing again, but the rain has been fairly persistent.

Surprise foxglove

I have had a lovely crop of unexpected plants this year, all self-seeded. I don't know what most of them are, but the cornflowers are doing well and a surprise foxglove has appeared. The rest are 'pink flower', 'yellow flower', 'blue flower' etc. Last year I had an aquilegia (I think) but I may have damaged it too much for it to reappear. There's actually a strawberry plant growing between bricks in the paved area, but I'm not prepared to spare the weedkiller even for a strawberry plant. I have also declared war on ivy. It will not be allowed to re-emerge in my garden ever again. Sometimes I think I would like to grow plants of my choosing, like poppies and hollyhocks, but it doesn't look like that will happen any time soon.

Some paving reappears

I have also escalated the LTRP by contacting two architectural designers - I think that's the kind of job title they use - to come and have a look at the kitchen, living room and stairs in order to recommend how things might be altered. The first one came one week and the second one came a week later. We talked about the kitchen, which was fairly straightforward, then we talked about the living room and stairs, which was rather problematic, and when we reached the subject of heating/insulation my head exploded. Too much, too complicated, couldn't cope. So it looks as though the kitchen redesign could happen, the stairs may have to stay as they are but may change, and there ain't nothin' goin' to happen 'bout the cold, cold house. At least not in the near future. Unless I wear a diving helmet for head protection while talking to the second architect.

The loft emptying project proceeds slowly with a couple of boxes of books at a time along with some of the redundant paperwork that has bafflingly been stored up there. I have also given away the trampoline. This was a bit more difficult emotionally, but I look back fondly on its value during exam revision and accept that I'm unlikely to erect it again. I advertised it on Streetlife (which I have mentioned before) and had a most intriguing selection of people who were interested. I sifted through them trying to evaluate who was most worthy, but my first choice of recipient very weirdly decided that if it was stored in the loft then it couldn't possibly be big enough for their child because if it were then it wouldn't fit through the hatch. I responded to say it's a kit and you have to assemble it, but they weren't having any of it, even when I said that you can get quite long poles through a loft hatch as long as you don't try to fit them through sideways. The second potential recipient didn't respond at all, but the third collected it as agreed and gave me a bunch of flowers, which made the transaction rather pleasant.

I have continued going to the Buddhist group, and I'm still enjoying the meditation and the tea break, but the discussions are more difficult. Actually, even the meditation was difficult when we had a guest leader who extended the duration to 40 minutes. Another inexperienced meditator agreed with me that this was pretty heavy going. The discussions focus on some aspect of Buddhist practice, and I struggle to translate the concepts into something I recognise and then struggle further to establish how the information might be helpful in any way. I'm just not cut out for abstract thought, let alone philosophy. But I quite like sitting quietly trying to extend goodwill to my fellow humans.

I have had an interesting time trying to arrange for my saxophones to be serviced - one independent chap was recommended so I sent an email, left a telephone message and sent a text and received no response whatsoever. So I phoned a shop and spoke to a delightful woman who thinks she might be able to service the tenor sax in a single day and have a look at the baritone as well. The downside is that I have to spend a day in Birmingham, but I'm sure I'll find plenty there to keep me busy.

Lastly, I went down to Bristol for a weekend because an old friend who plays in a band had a gig and another old friend who knows us both suggested we meet up there. I stayed in a lovely room courtesy of Airbnb, met the friends, went to the gig and came home via the falconry centre where despite the weather looking very promising the birds declined to put on much of a show.

I can't let this opportunity go by without mentioning the referendum. So there, I've mentioned it, let's move on and see what the future holds.

Meditation and Buddhism

Paris, March 2016

I have now attended all four sessions of meditation and Buddhism - the meditation is difficult but I think it may be useful for those times when one's mind refuses to settle. It's one of those things that needs practice to determine whether it is actually worthwhile.

The main reason I signed up for the four-week course is because the good friend I wrote about a few weeks ago has been a Buddhist for more than 20 years. He hasn't had anything that resembles a traditional job (with hours of work and a wage) for quite a long time, and has spent a total of about two years on and off at a 'retreat' in Spain. I have struggled to come to terms with this lifestyle (not that it's any of my business), and concluded that the answer must lie within Buddhism. So I want to know more about Buddhism, and the course takes place very conveniently about 2 miles from my home.

Each session starts with a short meditation focusing on the physical body, then a bit of chat about what we'll talk about later, then a longer (different) meditation, then a tea break. I like the tea break. Then there's a bit about Buddhism and its practice and another meditation session to end.

I don't mind meditation - sitting quiet and still is rather nice, but my mind dances off all the time and I have to put some effort into bringing it back. The leader describes this as 'flapping like a fish out of water', and this is indeed how it feels. The bit about Buddhism is sometimes done in small groups, which I prefer to discussions with the whole room, and has given me the chance to clarify a few things.

Obviously after just four sessions I'm only scratching the surface, but the main messages I've taken away are:

- Buddhism is not a theist religion. The Buddha is not a god or a prophet, but a man who came up with some good ideas that made him into a rather special person. By emulating his methods, a person should be able to reach their fullest potential. The word 'enlightenment' was used along with lots of other words that are difficult to pin down (I have to let most of the words go past otherwise I'd be challenging something every two minutes). You can be an atheist Buddhist, in fact if you commit yourself to Buddhism it would be difficult not to be atheist. I have no problem with this, I like a religion that doesn't believe in gods.

- The principles of Buddhism as I understand them so far (after a whole eight hours of learning, six hours of which were silent meditation) are about contributing the most possible to oneself, one's community and society, and I suppose the wider world as well. Although the group leader deliberately avoided labelling principles or actions as good' or 'bad', in lay terms it's about being a 'good' person both in isolation and in interactions with others. The group leader described being able to do anything that you want to do - there are no specific rules - but understanding that your deeds have consequences and you must take responsibility for them. I have no problem with this either, I have long been reflecting on my personality and actions, committing to change for the better, and trying to fulfil my potential.

What I've been trying to elicit, therefore, is what the role of Buddhism is exactly. I'm happy not to believe in God, prepared to believe that Buddha was a good sort with some useful ideas, and that not hurting yourself or others is a sensible course in life. Anyone can do meditation, and behave in the best way they can, and try to be a vegan, and live the best life possible for themselves and others without being a Buddhist. Why do we need Buddhism?

I think the answer is the same for Buddhism as I have decided it is for other religions - probably all religions, although I only have personal experience of a couple. Here's the answer in brief: it's much harder to be a good person on your own. If you can adopt a set of pre-prepared guidelines alongside others who are happy with the same guidelines, you get loads of help from a ready-made extended family when life is difficult, which it often is. You get some answers to difficult questions (why is there cruelty in the world? what is consciousness? what happens after we die?) and if it's a religion that's worth anything there will be someone prepared to look after you when you are ill, disabled or old if you don't happen to have taken precautions by having children and bringing them up properly.

Many people deal with the difficult questions by using words like 'spirituality', and many religions expect you to accept as truth their theories about unprovable concepts (gods, angels, miracles, what happens after death). I don't have a spiritual atom in any of the molecules that comprise my corporeal body. I am made of physics, which results in chemistry, which leads to biology. I know there are many things we do not yet know (what is consciousness?) and many things we cannot know (what happens after we die?) and I'm happy to agree that there is probably more to life than we can know or touch. What I'm not prepared to believe is that anyone else knows the answers, so unfortunately most religions won't work for me.

I know that many people take comfort in the notion that someone or something they believe in is looking out for them - I am lucky enough not to need this notion, given that I don't believe there is anything out there. Buddhism seems to take a more practical line, that the people looking out for you are those around you within your own community. So that's good.

The two types of meditation we learned were mindfulness of breathing, which involves trying to focus on your breathing and determinedly bringing your attention back when it inevitably wanders, and 'metta bhavana' which is about fostering a positive attitude towards yourself and others. I've been more or less successful at doing these within the sessions and a few times at home, and I like the approach. The leaders of the group declare that there is some sort of emotional or spiritual benefit that emerges from successful meditation, but I can't say I've experienced much, although perhaps I managed a little glimpse of something on one occasion before my mind sped off down the road and I had to catch it up and drag it back to the matter in hand.

The group continues to meet on a Tuesday night and all are welcome; I don't know whether I'll be joining them or not. I like the meditation but I'm much less keen on the Buddhism, because despite being sympathetic to the concepts expounded so far I still find it a bit too much like organised religion. There are bits that have been hinted at but not discussed, including a brief reference to 'puja' which is a bit like worship although it might be more like paying your respects. I am being fairly vague about my intentions because I thought after I'd run 5km, and then 10km, that I'd stop running, but I'm still doing it and even enjoying it. So it might be the same with Buddhism. I'll keep you posted.