What helped me

The finger that points

The map I wish someone had handed me — some of the signs, books, teachers, and places that helped.

For most of my search I had no one to point the way. I looked in the wrong places for years, read the right books too early to understand them, and found the teachers and places that helped me almost by accident. This page is the map I wish someone had handed me. These are simply some of the signs, books, teachers, and places that helped — offered in case they save you some of the wandering. It is not an exhaustive list, only what was useful to me.

If you are beginning with no teacher nearby

You do not need a teacher, a tradition, or a quiet room to start. You need a few minutes and a little patience with your own mind. Begin with the breath, or with the body. Notice when attention wanders — and it will — and come back, gently, without scolding yourself. That returning is the practice. Start with one minute if eight feels long. Difficulty is normal; it is not a sign you are doing it wrong. When you want structure, a retreat or a teacher can give it — but the first step is only to begin where you are.

What a retreat actually is

A retreat is simply time set aside to practise, usually in silence, often with a teacher to ask. It is less exotic and more ordinary than I imagined — and harder, in a plain way: you meet your own mind without the usual distractions. You do not have to be advanced; many centres welcome complete beginners. Expect restlessness in the first days; it passes. If you are looking for somewhere to start: in Switzerland, the Meditationszentrum Beatenberg (karuna.ch) offers retreats in a quiet alpine setting; in the United States, the Insight Meditation Society (dharma.org) welcomes every level in a serious but gentle way. There are forest monasteries in the Theravāda tradition too — quieter and more austere — across Asia, and in Europe and the United States; Dhammapala in Switzerland is one. These are for when you want to go further.

The books that mattered (and when)

Some books only opened for me years after I first owned them. A few that helped: Ajahn Chah's A Still Forest Pool, for the plain forest wisdom of it; Bhikkhu Bodhi's translations and his anthology In the Buddha's Words, for reaching the early texts without getting lost; and the freely available talks and books of Sayadaw U Tejaniya (ashintejaniya.org), for a way of practising that asks no strain. Don't rush them. The right book tends to arrive when you are ready for it.

What I misunderstood

For a long time I thought meditation meant concentrating hard and reaching special states — and that if I failed to, I was failing. I thought awareness was something to force into being. I thought the real practice happened elsewhere, away from ordinary life. Each of these cost me years. What I would tell someone beginning now: you are not trying to achieve a state. You are learning to notice what is already here — relaxed, again and again — most of all in the middle of an ordinary day.

— UM

In his last days, the Buddha is said to have told those around him: be a light unto yourself. Take no one, and nothing, as your final authority — not even him. See for yourself.

That is the spirit of this whole page. Whatever helped me is only a borrowed lamp. The light you are looking for was always meant to be your own.

— UM