Having been Lama Tsering’s private pupil, whenever I sat in meditation, it was his voice that sounded in my head, gentle and timeless. The words of the yogi whose presence remained so palpable and real that I felt if I was to open my eyes, I would see him there, seated at the height of my forehead, with that expression of profound compassion.

‘“As much as possible,”’ he often began a meditation session. ‘“Try to be pure presence without a past, without a future, simply abiding in the here and now.”’

That instruction alone was enough for me to feel liberated, to allow the burden of thoughts to fall away, and return to an all-pervading, oceanic calm.

It had been Alice who had first explained to me why the words ‘medication’ and ‘meditation’ were only one letter different—because they both came from the same Latin word, medeor, meaning ‘to heal’ or ‘to make whole.’

When I’d first arrived at Tiger’s Nest, I had believed that healing, that tranquility, was emanating from Lama Tsering himself, and from other yogis like him who had attained special qualities arising from countless hours of meditation.

But I was being guided along the subtle and well-trod path of guru-yoga, coaxed to states of experience of which I wouldn’t have thought myself capable. Believing all the time, that the focus, the tranquil peace, was coming from my guru. Which, in a way it was—but only because I imagined it to be.

This was the way of the Himalayas, and I saw it a hundred times before I recognized what was happening. Whether as monks or nuns or laypeople, there was a willingness to believe their teachers capable of the most extraordinary qualities. To sit at their feet, open and willing to be touched by their presence. To be moved by a love, overwhelming and unconditional, or liberated from the dead weight of grief, or to have their consciousness blown open to a state more panoramic than they might have dared imagine.

A devout farmer I met in Bhutan once told me simply: “If you believe your teacher is an ordinary person, you receive an ordinary person’s blessings. If you believe your teacher is a Buddha, you receive a Buddha’s blessings.”

In the imagined presence of my enlightened teacher, after resting my focus in the present moment for a while, I reminded myself of the peerless motivation of bodhichitta he had taught me was to imbue all actions of body, speech, and mind. It was certainly the way to begin every meditation session: ‘By this practice,’ I recited in my mind, ‘may I quickly, quickly attain enlightenment to lead all other living beings – wherever in the universe they abide, equally and without exception – to complete and perfect enlightenment.’

•••

Instinctively I found myself beginning a breath-based meditation—the nine-round cycle. ‘From the most foundational practice to the most advanced,’ Lama Tsering had often reminded me. ‘There is great value in this practice. It settles the mind and balances energies in the body. The breath is an ambrosial dwelling. Abide there and you will experience profound peace.’