This Way to Paradise (15 page)

Sensei arrived soon after the others and sat on his cushion at
the front. Liam and Rosie took places at the back near the door and a mad thought went through my head.
They're blocking the exits. Run for it now.
I told myself not to be stupid. Aunt Sarah would never let anyone who wasn't legit teach at her centre.

Sensei closed his eyes and for a few moments sat in silence and, once again, it struck me how still and serene he was. He was beautiful to watch but, as the minutes ticked on, I wondered,
Is this it? Should I be doing the same?

Sensei opened his eyes and beamed at all of us. ‘So let us begin. First, I am going to talk to you about the sea. You have all seen the sea, yes? When we look at the ocean, we see the waves on the surface – sometimes they're calm, sometimes choppy and yet, if you go deep into the ocean, deep, deep, fathom deep, regardless of what is happening on the surface, there is stillness, there is tranquillity. In the same way, your mind is like the sea.'

OK, my mind is like the sea,
I thought and then a voice suddenly started singing in my head.
Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside . . .

Shut up,
said a second voice.

You shut up too,
said a third voice.

Listen to Sensei,
said a fourth. I made myself concentrate.

‘On the surface of the mind, there are thoughts and feelings and, like the waves on the sea, these thoughts are sometimes calm, sometimes choppy. Yes?'

We all nodded.

‘In order to find peace, you must go deep inside of yourself beneath the waves of emotion. This is why we are here this afternoon – to find this stillness. Turning inside: this is the way to paradise, the state of being that so many seek externally. It is within you, not outside.'

That's what I want to do,
I thought.
Find stillness. Get away from all the contradictory feelings inside me and these nutty voices in my head on the surface of my sea or mind or whatever. Find this way to paradise.

Sensei nodded at Liam, who got up and closed the shutters at the window and the room grew dark.
Wuhoohooo,
said one of the nutters in a scary voice in my head.

‘This method I am going to teach you is a Vipassana meditation derived from the school of Theravadin Buddhism and is believed by many to be the original method that the Buddha himself taught . . .'

Cool,
I thought.

Theravadin, isn't that a kind of turtle?
asked another voice.

Nope, that's a terrapin. Now shut up and CONcentrate,
said a third.

‘We will start by concentrating on the breath. This will bring you into the present moment . . .' Sensei continued.

Suddenly I was aware of a new voice in my head singing in a broad Scottish accent.
Let the wind blow high and the wind blow low, through the streets in my kilt I go. All the lassies cry, Hello! Donald, where's your trousers?

Oh my God!
I thought.
Where did that come from? Oh, I remember.
It was a song that Erin's mum used to sing sometimes when she was cooking. It used to make us laugh because she is Irish and yet she liked to sing Scottish songs.
I am going mad. Shut up mind. Shut up, shut up, shut up.
I made an effort to refocus on what Sensei was saying.

‘Although your thoughts may be preoccupied with the past or the future, the breath is always in the present. If it wasn't, we wouldn't be alive. However, few people live in the here and now because thoughts, goals, dreams or memories occupy so much of our attention, making us think about past occurrences or future deadlines, appointments and plans.'

Booooooring,
said a very loud voice in my mind just as Sensei looked my way.
Oh God. What if he can read people's minds? I bet he can, being a holy man. And I'm not really bored. I'm interested. I am.
I blushed deep red and looked at the floor.

‘How often do we wish away the week, wishing it was the weekend? Or spend a day at work or school, wishing it was home time?' Sensei continued. ‘Always wanting to be where we're not. So often happiness seems to lie at any time apart from the present moment . . .'

That's actually true,
I thought.
Like me on the island. I've wanted to be anywhere else but here since I arrived, always thinking I'll only be happy when I'm back home in London or with Erin. Yeah. It's true.

‘It is only in the present that true happiness lies and this meditation is a technique to bring your awareness into the
moment so that you can experience its perfection. OK. Are you all sitting comfortably? Relaxed?'

Everyone shifted about a little. Mrs Stott coughed. Brian sniffed loudly, then the room grew quiet again.

‘OK, close your eyes,' said Sensei.‘I'm going to teach you two methods of focus. Both are equally effective. Try them both and later you can choose which works best for you. First, focus your attention on the breath as it enters the tip of your nostrils . . .'

‘Er, Sensei, I have a blocked nose,' Brian interrupted.

‘No problem,' said Sensei. ‘Simply focus on the breath going into your mouth. OK. Now feel the cold air being breathed in. Yes. Then warm air being breathed out a moment later. Yes. Good. Don't attempt to follow the breath down to the lungs but keep your attention fixed on the nostrils. Imagine that you are a sentry at a gate watching and noting who in entering and who is leaving as you breathe in and out.'

Yeah. I can do this,
I thought, focusing my attention as Sensei had directed. The room grew quiet as each of us concentrated on our breath. It felt nice for a while and then the loonie brigade that lives in my head started up again.

Open your eyes – see what everyone else is doing.

No. No. Sensei might be watching.

Yeah. Give this a proper try. Stop messing about. Concentrate like Sensei said.

He is the Master. Master Bates, tee hee hee hee. Oh God, that's an old joke of Ethan's.

Nickynockynoodles.

Whadt? I am mad. There's no hope. No. No. I'm not mad. These thoughts are just the surface of the ocean and it's choppy. Go deeper. Find the peace. Focus. Focus.

Cold breath in. Warm breath out. Or was it the other way round? Warm breath in. Cold breath out. No. Can't be that way round, stupid. OK. Start again.

I am a fish swimming in the sea of my mind.

I wonder what Joe's doing. Erin said to report back to her if there is any snogging activity. I wish. No, I don't. Scrap that thought. I don't care about him. I hate him. I wonder what he'd be like to kiss. Erin's right. He has got a nice mouth. I bet he's a really good kisser.

I felt a lovely feeling in my stomach when for a moment I imagined kissing Joe.

Focus, idiot. You're supposed to be concentrating, not thinking about kissing some boy who's not even interested.

So why isn't he interested? What's wrong with me? Maybe I should confront him. No. Bad idea. Boys hate that.

Sensei's voice suddenly brought me back into the room. ‘And now, the second method,' he said as I realised I had hardly given the first method half a chance. ‘This time, focus your attention on the rise and the fall of the abdomen as you inhale and exhale. Simply concentrate on the motion of the abdomen as you breathe.'

I followed his instructions and it was true, my abdomen did go up and down as I breathed in and out and, for a few minutes, I managed to stay focused.

And then:
I'll go up to the dining area and get a juice after this. I'm thirsty.

And I want a wee.

And my left leg is itchy.

My right leg's gone to sleep.

Actually I could do with a sleep. I was up so early this morning. I could curl up on the floor and doze off right now.

Jesus, this is boring. How long have we been doing it?

I wonder what Dad would make of me meditating? Does he even care what I get up to these days? I wonder why it all changed with him. There was a time when he knew everything I did. Was interested. Sad really.

I feel alone in the world lately. Unloved. Like no one really cares.

India. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and concentrate.

Oh yeah.

Up . . . down. Cold air in. Warm out. Abdomen up, abdomen down. Boring boring. My bum hurts on this hard floor.

This isn't paradise. Not outside. Not inside.

I opened my eyes and took at peek at the others.

The room was still in darkness, silent.
How much longer to go?
I wondered as I strained to see my watch in the dim light.

Let me out of here,
chorused all the voices.

‘Whichever method you choose,' said Sensei, ‘watch your breath with total awareness. As the sensation of stillness grows, be aware of how your body feels . . .'

Yeah, yeah, whatever. Wind it up, holy guy,
said the renegade that
lives in my head. Sensei continued talking but I couldn't really take it in. My mind was all over the place.
Heck. I am soooooo crap at this,
I thought.
I am clearly not cut out for meditation. Not one bit. Not a chance. No way.

I raced back up to my room after the session. I wanted to talk to someone I knew and was hoping that Kate would be there, but our little bungalow was empty. I felt strange after the session, like premenstrual times ten, which was weird because it wasn't that time of the month. Marjorie, Brian and Clare had looked blissed out as we filed out of the bungalow and were gushing about what a wonderful experience they'd had. Liam and Rosie too. For me it had been a total anticlimax and, once again, I felt like the odd girl out. I seemed to be the only one who hadn't got much out of it and seeing their enthusiasm made me feel like a failure. I had an overwhelming desire to speak to Mum or even Dad. To be told that I was OK. It didn't matter that I couldn't meditate or that I had a coachload of mad
people living in my head. That I was still loved.

I tried both their numbers, but both mobiles were on voicemail. Hearing Dad's voice brought tears to my eyes.
Woah, I really am feeling emotional,
I thought as I brushed them aside.

Next I tried Erin. Her phone was on voicemail too.

I tried Ethan.
Great,
I thought as he picked up and I heard his familiar voice. I sat back on my bed, ready to have a good heart to heart. Ethan was always so good at listening and saying the right thing. ‘Hey, India,' he said. ‘How . . .
NOOOOOOOO.
Lara! Put that down. Oh God, India. Sorry. I'm in charge of the twins here. No! Lara! So sorry, India. Bad timing. Got to go, Lara's just plastered nail polish all over the wall. Speak later?'

‘Sure,' I said. ‘Is . . . is Jessica there?' My sister-in-law was a good listener too.

But Ethan didn't reply. He'd already hung up.

Next I tried Lewis. His flatmate, Chaz, picked up. ‘Nah. Dunno where he is,' he said.

‘Will you ask him to call his sister, India.'

‘Call his sister in India?'

‘No, his
sister
India. That's me. India Jane. In Greece.'

‘Oh right,' said Chaz, laughing.‘Complicated. OK. Call sister.'

I knew he wouldn't. For one thing, Chaz didn't ask for my number and, knowing how disorganised Lewis was, he wouldn't have it anywhere.

And so to the strange little medically obsessed squirt,
I thought as I tried Dylan's mobile. Even the idea of speaking to him was
appealing.
We could have a conversation about melanomas or irritable bowel syndrome,
I thought as his phone rang.
Anything to remind me that I have a home life somewhere. That I do actually belong some place.

His voicemail was on.
That's it then,
I thought.
My whole family unavailable. All have busy lives. Lives that don't involve me. And I don't think my dad even likes me any more.

I felt lonely and sorry for myself and was just getting ready for a good blub when my phone rang. It was Erin and she listened patiently while I poured out the events and feelings of the morning.
Thank God for mates,
I thought as she laughed her head off when I told her about my rubbish attempts to meditate.

‘I am so relieved, India,' she said. ‘I seriously thought you were going to join the God squad.'

‘I tried. Maybe some other time, when I'm older. It's like there are four radio stations playing in my head all at the same time.'

‘Well, you are a Gemini, sign of the twins, split personality and all that.'

‘Yeah, but there are more than a couple of personalities in my head. There's like a whole coachload. I felt like such a failure.'

‘Rubbish. It's just not your thing. Give yourself a break. So what now? You still have about a week and a half there. Are you going to give in to your desires and pursue the lowly path of boys, clothes and chocolate?'