An Irishman abroad: ‘I’ve meditated in Bosnian mosques, Thai temples and Ukrainian Orthodox churches’

Buddhism was not a thing where I grew up. I barely knew any Protestants. There were three in my year at school. I didn’t dislike them, but I suppose I was keeping count.

Who knows why eastern mysticism never took off in Ireland?

Perhaps we’re too begrudging as a people. Not letting go of things is a cornerstone of our culture. If we believed in reincarnation, we’d probably look at newborn babies and think, “I know that b*****d. Oh, we’ve been waiting for you ... Oliver Cromwell.”

I prayed well into my late teens, which is longer than is socially acceptable. My family weren’t devout Catholics. But I suffered from anxiety, so my mother suggested that prayer might help. It was the early 2000s in Kildare and neither of us had any better ideas when it came to mental health.

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By the time I started university I’d abandoned the practice entirely. Paranormal superstition had been replaced by delirious binge drinking. I was not a wine drinker, but if I could have turned water into a six pack of Bavaria lager then I would have.

I was 22 when I stumbled upon meditation. In my fourth year of college I was feeling pretty low again and the campus counselling service pointed me towards a mindfulness class. The ability to separate my body from the troubled thoughts that plagued me was a revelation.

The effect was more soothing than I’d experienced with prayer. Meditation is about accepting things as they are without judgment, while prayer is the exact opposite. When we commune with God we usually have a laundry list of grievances we’d like him to sort out for us. A missing wedding ring, an exam result, a miracle cure. Praying to the Christian God is the spiritual equivalent of asking to speak to the manager. No wonder white people took to it so well.

Through a simple mindfulness exercise it’s possible to bring awareness to the present moment and liberate ourselves from toxic relationships with the past and future. It’s less about trying to change your situation than it is about stepping outside of it.

My enthusiasm has ebbed and flowed over the years, but I try to keep up a regular routine.

Part of the fun is finding a quiet place to practice when I’m starting a new job or travelling abroad. I’ve meditated in Bosnian mosques, Thai temples and Ukrainian Orthodox churches. I’ve also had a go in my fair share of toilet cubicles. Overhearing the digestive movements of the bloke in the stall next to you makes enlightenment difficult, but not impossible.

Different religious sects, health departments or mindfulness apps might insist you sit a certain way, recite a mantra, or even visualise a landscape or person. I’d be wary of anyone who claims to have found the “right” way to meditate. All you need to do, really, is slow down a little and notice what’s going on inside yourself. I find counting my inhales and exhales really helpful.

Body scans are great when I have the time. You can mix and match techniques to suit yourself.

While the explosion in popularity of these practices is a good thing, I could do without my human resources department getting in on the act.

The movement has been co-opted and shoved down the throats of overworked employees in offices around the world. If corporations are genuinely interested in staff wellbeing, they should offer better pay, more holidays and meaningful work. Reminding us to breathe at our desks should not be a workplace perk.

I dated a Buddhist for a few months. We met online, but happened to attend the same temple in East London. It was a curious experience to have a spiritual component to a romantic relationship.

This was the norm in Ireland and Britain until fairly recently with many couples meeting at church or attending services together every week. Today, if someone you met on the internet suggested Mass as a first date, most people would run a mile (unless you were using dating app Christian Mingle).

Our relationship didn’t work out; it ended quite badly, actually.

Here’s the thing about mindfulness: it won’t solve all your problems – it’s not supposed to.

If your practice is consistent, you’ll hopefully enjoy some respite from the unnecessary suffering created by our overthinking minds.

I can’t promise it will make your love life any easier.

I guess we’re all on our own there.

Peter Flanagan lives in Hackney, London, and works as a comedian
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