I visited the Samye Ling last week for the Makahala Prayers, which is traditionally one of my favourite times at the monastery. So there's ritual music from about eight in the morning till half eleven, and from two in the afternoon till about half four. So I go to the temple at eight and start meditating and stay there for most of the day until soup at six. Then I went to my room and waited for the radiator to come on. Otherwise, it was quite cold, though I felt it less as the week wore on.
I'd been back here a few days before I thought I must be crazy. Nobody does this kind of thing. I don't think anyone else was there meditating all day while the music crashed and banged. But I didn't feel crazy when I was doing it. After a couple of days, as usual I was in the swing of things, and it was as if the anxieties I never even knew I had were slipping off my shoulders.
But back home it occurred to me that I might be trying too hard. Maybe I should be doing more analytical meditations and less visualisations. I keep thinking the meditations are improving, but the heat isn't getting much hotter.
I started writing a new book last week, but I can't get into a routine at the moment. It's like meditating. You want a regular practise, and a time to write every day. Someone is helping me improve my altruistic intentions.
