I began to practice mindfulness on a sunny Dublin afternoon in the 1980s. During my lunch break I had bought a book on meditation and I had read two paragraphs on mindfulness.
I tried it out and I liked how I felt. Later that afternoon, I abandoned my desk in The Irish Times – not an unusual event – and went for a stroll in the grounds of Trinity College. Cricketers were finishing a game in the late afternoon sunlight. The pavilion bar was open at the end of the field. I bought a beer and stood and watched the game of cricket – a game, I might add, about which I knew nothing. I felt wonderful as I practiced my mindfulness. I was filled with the deepest sense of peace and happiness I had ever known. I have never forgotten the experience.
The sense of euphoria lasted for a few days. Then it went away and it has only rarely come back. This is a common experience at the start of a meditation practice. People sometimes then make the mistake of chasing that euphoria, of trying to get it back. While the feeling may come back for a few minutes or hours now and then, this is only likely to happen rarely. To be in a constant state of euphoria would, in any event, be unhelpful in many areas of your life. I wouldn’t want to be operated on by a euphoric surgeon!
I should add that I have previously worked as a journalist, first with RTE Radio One and The Irish Press and then as a health correspondent with The Irish Times.
I have also worked on the counsellor training course at the Institute of Integrative Counselling and Psychotherapy in Tallaght, Dublin. I do some work as a counsellor and counselling supervisor, though not a lot.
I have written a number of books including Mindfulness on the Go – Peace in Your Pocket; Light Mind – Mindfulness in Daily Living; and Like A Man – a Guide to Men’s Emotional Wellbeing.
I also write poetry and short stories and my poetry collection, The Blue Guitar, is published by Salmon Poetry.
I live in Dublin with my wife and two daughters.