24 MAR 2020 · Ba, my maternal grandma, had a Buddha. She must have noticed that I often looked at him. One day when we were visiting she gathered all us, me, my mom and dad. We sat in a circle on a carpet on the living room floor. In the middle was Buddha. Ba carefully picked Buddha up and washed him. She did it attentively and lovingly, as if he were a baby, baby Buddha. She said or sang something, maybe mantras. She dried him. And then she handed him to me.

25 MAR 2020 · I sit like Buddha sits. I just sit. It’s simple. Just sitting means not doing much, not chasing after anything. I can simply be, rather than constantly doing something. It's simple, but not easy. I need to practice. I need to practice just sitting.

25 MAR 2020 · I breathe like Buddha breathes. I focus on the area where the air touches the nostrils. I sense my chest filling and emptying. I sense the breath as a bodily sensation.

26 MAR 2020 · I listen like Buddha listens. I hear sounds close to me, my own breathing, in and out of my nostrils, sounds that are more distant, the humming of the fridge and the fan in the kitchen, and even more distant, a car that starts on the street outside, then driving away with a vroom,

28 MAR 2020 · I sense the body like Buddha senses the body. I move the attention from the top of my head down to my toes, slowly through the entire body, then back up, and then down, again and again. First I notice only strong and gross sensations, tension in the shoulders, itching on the upper lip, a kind of burning sensation in the buttocks. Then it becomes subtler, the sensations like ripples.

28 MAR 2020 · ‘Why should I write a book? There are already many good books on meditation. Who do I think I am?’ I realize I've been lost in thought for a while. ‘Thinking,’ I say in my mind, this too a thought but a helpful one, a conscious thought, a thought in the service of increasing awareness.

29 MAR 2020 · I smile like Buddha smiles. A welcoming smile. I remember that this being human is a guest house. Guests keep arriving. Now a joy. Now a sadness. Some are expected, others are unexpected. I meet them at the door smiling and invite them in. Some stay for only a moment, others stay longer. When they are ready to leave, I follow them to the door. And I smile.

29 MAR 2020 · A mantra emerges spontaneously in my mind. And along with the mantra: a memory. In the morning, before the others got up, I went to Ba’s room. I looked inside. The old woman was sitting on her bed. She held a mala in her right hand, mumbling something. Then she noticed me. She looked at me and smiled, inviting me in.

31 MAR 2020 · I love like Buddha loves. I start with myself. I put a hand on my heart and wish myself well. ‘Vikram.’ I remember Ba, her smile and tone of voice when she said my name. ‘May you be happy, Vikram.’ I repeat it gently a few times.

31 MAR 2020 · I bring Buddha an orange. I place it next to him on the windowsill. Buddha and the orange glow golden in the morning sun. I look at them. I think of the components making up the orange: sunlight, rainwater, air, nutrients in the soil.