Manoj Dias - Still together : connection through meditation.

For my daughter, Taylah.

Your parents and your teachers bless them probably had this absurd idea that when you grew up, you would know how to be an adult. You would know how to build healthy relationships, look after your finances, maybe raise children, and lead a successful life all by yourself.

What they didnt teach you about was the pain of failed love, the burden of mortgage repayments and the scary new world of social media. They gave you titbits of wisdom, sure. But for many of us, our early childhood teachers didnt teach us how to understand doubt, fear, stress or our subconscious thoughts. They were probably still trying to understand their own.

I never learned that connection was a biological imperative, or that a profound lack of it would cause me to question my existence, my purpose, my value to this world. That lack drove me to binge eat, abuse drugs and hurt the people closest to me. It would ultimately drive me towards addiction, eating disorders and chronic and severe cases of generalised anxiety.

Many of us have experienced moments of anxiety.

What if I make an idiot of myself at the party? Will I make it in time for the meeting? What if I messed up that presentation? Did I lock the car?

Sometimes anxiety is fleeting and manageable. Its uncomfortable at the time, but it doesnt hang around for too long. For some, however, the anxiety we experience is chronic and debilitating. Its the kind of anxiety that doesnt go away, even when we see that we did lock the car, and that yes, the heating is turned off.

This kind of anxiety can stop us from leaving the house. It can affect our sleep, our health and our capacity to function at our best. Its a toxic, persistent presence that can ruin careers, relationships and lives. I know this, because it did these things to me.

For over ten years, I operated on low levels of anxiety without realising it. I assumed that the nerves and edginess came with having a corporate career. I supplemented my poor sleep with multiple cups of coffee, my afternoon lulls with chocolate, and my ever-growing self-doubt with procrastination. I had no idea that I had anxiety because I had no idea what it was. I remained completely unaware that I had anxiety until the day I had a panic attack at work.

I remember it well. I was enjoying my morning coffee, but noticed that it felt a little strong. Damn strong, actually the kind that feels like its gone straight into your bloodstream. My hands began to tremble. My heart raced, a wave of emotion consumed me and my bottom lip started quivering. My first thought was, I cant let the fellas see this. But my colleagues did see, of course. Im sure it was hard not to notice when I got up from my desk gasping for air. I ran out of the office hyperventilating, and started pacing the busy city streets.

I knew then that it wasnt the damn coffee. It was some kind of anxiety attack the kind that had probably been bubbling away for months, maybe even years. So I did what any sane person on the verge of a nervous breakdown would do. I quit my job and I didnt leave the house for months.

I saw a lot of experts during that time. Doctors, psychiatrists, shamanic healers and reiki masters all listened to my story and did their best to help me. By this point I had developed a severe anxiety disorder, chronic insomnia and a prescription medication addiction from a misdiagnosed case of ADHD. I felt like I was freefalling. I was clinging to anything and everything for sanity, but nothing caught, and I just kept plunging further into the void. Then one day, a Buddhist meditation teacher changed my life. What he said to me was fairly simple, but it resonated like nothing ever had before.

You are not your thoughts.

Those five little words were like a magic potion, and this revelation is what served as my introduction to Buddhist meditation. Although I was born in Sri Lanka and raised in a Buddhist household, meditation was never a part of my parents practice. But this humble, wise Buddhist meditation teacher taught me that the wisdom to understand my suffering had been within me all along. I had the ability to train my mind and heart to connect to the present moment, see things as they really are and, in turn, connect fully with life.

I studied with my teacher, whom I still lovingly refer to as Guruji (spiritual teacher), daily for eight years. In that time I attended countless silent meditation retreats, devoured as many books as I could and travelled the world exploring mindfulness and Buddhism. At one point I considered taking robes and heading back to Sri Lanka to become a monk. However, I knew I would miss the football and, more importantly, my daughter. I had no intention of becoming a teacher; the idea wasnt even on my radar.

But when I returned to my corporate life, I felt a deep sense of emptiness. My life felt bereft of meaning and purpose. What I had yearned for so deeply in my youth money, career growth, fancy experiences I no longer craved. One day, my teacher said he was not feeling well and asked me to take over and teach his class. It was a set-up, of course he wanted to challenge me to try my hand at teaching. Nervous but hopeful, I taught my first class in front of my teacher, much to his delight. A few weeks afterwards, I felt called to commence a great journey, one that could not promise stability or wealth, but one that would make me rich in compassion and connection. So, with a young daughter and only a small amount of money, I left my familiar, comfortable life behind and stepped into the unknown.

For me, meditation was the key to understanding my pain and my experience. It taught me to observe my thoughts without necessarily accepting them as facts. It taught me that my mind was a muscle, and that in the same way as we work to strengthen our arms or legs at the gym, my mind could be strengthened, and trained to focus on the present moment. When you focus on the present moment, the surrounding noise and chatter falls away and you can handle with grace and wisdom whatever experience you are thrown. This was meditation: a tool to help me feel more connected to life.

My hope for this book is that you, too, will begin to reclaim your humanity and your intrinsic ability to form and nurture connections with genuine warmth and tenderness. We live in anxious times. We disconnect from each other based on our political and social beliefs, our fear of being truly seen, our time constraints and our lifestyles. This book will offer you insight, from a mindfulness and Buddhist perspective as well as from lessons gleaned along my own journey, and from many of the countless students I have taught over the decade. Much of what Ill share with you, you may already know. It will resonate in the deepest part of you.

My greatest wish is that you make the most of this precious human life. Mindfulness, compassion and meditation are the tools that can help you do that and, if practised regularly, these things will lead to a lifetime of deeper connections and greater fulfilment.

With love,

Manoj

Do you ever wonder how you got to this point in your life? Do you find yourself thinking:

Is this really it? Is this how the rest of my life is going to play out? Why do I feel so disconnected from everything and everyone?