Forget about enlightenment
So said the Buddhist nun.
For the last three weeks, I’ve been cycling to my local Buddhist centre on Thursday evenings to attend a course called Transforming the Emotions through Meditation.
It takes seven minutes door to door to get to Kagyu Samye Dzong (on my frail-but-still-functioning Peugeot), so I really don’t know why I hadn’t been before. I’ve lived in Bermondsey on and off for years and Buddhism is something I’ve dabbled with lightly over the past three: a walking meditation in Thailand in 2022, a silent retreat last April in India and a dip into Pema Chödrön’s books now and then.
This meditation centre is said to be one of the best in London and the reviews of the chai, served in the café during the day, speak for themselves. There’s a cosy reading room down the hallway on the left, at least two big practice rooms and space to sit outside when the weather allows it. The small window in the loo is dressed with red fabric curtains. You can see the stitches have been done by hand.
At the start of the first session, the course leader Lama Zangmo echoed what I was thinking: ‘It’s encouraging to see so many of you in the room’. Sitting at the back, I counted around 60 people.
Enchanting is the word I’d use to describe the space. (Fitting, because the word Dzong translates to ‘fortress’ or ‘castle’.) It feels familiar, much like the ones I’ve visited abroad. Big gold Buddhas dominate the altar, with flowers and candles at their feet. Two huge chandeliers hang from the painted ceiling (one on and one off, during the first lecture). These grand features might feel imposing were it not for the explosion of colour that softens the space. It’s warm, friendly, cheerful.
Lama Zangmo talks a lot about the importance of ‘taming the mind’. I like her grounded approach, the way she told us to – quite frankly – forget about enlightenment, and her occasional metaphors. There’s one about surfing (the choppy waves of difficult emotions) and a Dulux colour fan deck (for all the different shades of emotion). They bring a touch of off-script creativity to the readings she’s citing.
What’s more amusing is noticing how the audience overcompensates with polite laughter when she uses the metaphors. It’s slightly embarrassing of us and also deeply human because in this space, with many different nationalities and backgrounds, laughter is our shared language.
When I googled Lama Zangmo, I learnt that she began practising Buddhism in 1977 and was ordained in 1984. I also found an old BBC interview with a defunct audio link so all I read was the title, which included the quote: ‘I don’t own anything’.
No phone, no wardrobe (except robes), no jewellery, no trinkets, no belongings at all. It makes me wonder what the initial process of letting go was like. When you truly embrace that decision, I imagine the release of material things would be very liberating. But to get there is surely a huge journey. This is something I find very difficult personally – shedding the physical stuff.
I’m even attached to things I don’t own anymore – things I’ve lost – like the gold palm tree necklace that went astray after I left it in a cubby hole in class while I was teaching. I purchased it at a time when I was doing lots of solo travel and used to say it represented freedom. I’d layered on such sentimentality that losing it felt like a loss of freedom, in a sense, which is ridiculous because it’s just a necklace.
I recently got a quote from the jeweller to replace it. I haven’t replied to the email. I could save up for it if I wanted, but the thought of replacing it doesn’t feel that satisfying for some reason. An effort to cultivate inner freedom, without another beautiful piece of metal in my collection, is probably a better use of time, money and intention.
Still, I miss that damn palm.
What I find most useful about Buddhism is that it invites us to simplify. For me, this brings relief. It doesn’t suggest nun levels of renunciation (forget about enlightenment!) but a loosening of grip. Less mindless consumption. A shift towards contentment. Taming the mind. Being kind. Nice, helpful stuff.
So this seven-minute cycle to the centre, and the time spent in that enchanting room, surrounded by strangers – it’s bringing me some sort of peace. Perhaps peace is also a practice.
According to a local, you don’t even need to go inside to catch the vibe:
Buddhism is just one of many resources for living mindfully, but it’s something I’ve returned to and lean on when life feels overwhelming.
I’ll be going to drop-in sessions after the course finishes this week. The famous chai is calling.
ONLINE EVENT
I know many of you signed up to this newsletter because you want to know about my upcoming offerings. Here’s one!
Tue 25 Nov. Here: Practices for Presence. 7:30-9pm GMT. A 90-min online workshop, an ode to being here. All the details and booking here. Join us!