Part 1 of my new blog series contemplating life and design through a meditative and mindful lens.
My journey toward enlightenment didn’t begin recently. And, like many of my peers in the community I’m part of today, my discovery of the path I chose to follow was born out of necessity — a response to the overwhelming weight of adolescence and the strain of mental health challenges. At sixteen, I started meditating for five minutes daily, hoping to find relief in the rhythm of my breath.
Over the years, my practice has been inconsistent, picked up and lost like any new wellness habit we try to implement in our lives nowadays. But last September, I decided to commit. I subscribed to Headspace, paying the £50 yearly fee, hoping the dent to my wallet would somehow keep me accountable.
A year later, in the most recent September passed, I stumbled upon a two-day Buddhist meditation retreat for young people. Searches like 'affordable meditation retreats' and 'mindful escapes in the UK' littered my history. The retreat’s promise of a quiet escape nestled in the rolling hills of the British countryside, shared with others like myself seeking community and deeper connections, made it an easy choice—especially with a coach departing from East London.
Upon arrival, I was greeted by familiar, apprehensive expressions that mirrored my own. Over two and a half days, we spent hours in the shrine room—a serene space that carried a profound presence, an unspoken stillness echoing with the weight of something greater than the sum of its parts. With wooden floors, an abundance of cushions, the soft aroma of incense, and a golden Buddha watching over our attempts with a radiating peace, the room invited reflection and surrender. As we embraced the silence and stillness, initial discomfort gradually gave way to connection and calm.
What I found most difficult at first was the silence required from the evening meditation through to the end of breakfast. At the beginning the silence was filled with giggling and miming with newly made friends as we grappled with the discomfort and weight that such quiet could carry. Over time, however, it evolved into a transformative means of connecting with others on a deeper, more meaningful level.
While this level of silence is unrealistic for many in daily life—believe me, asking your family not to talk to you or each other until after breakfast is an impossible feat—it does offer a new perspective on conversations. It encourages a more intentional approach to pauses and opens opportunities for deeper connection within moments of quiet and stillness.
Leaving Suffolk, I carried with me a profound sense of peace, belonging, and a new perspective on community.
Over the next six(ish) weeks, I’m embarking on a journey within a journey, perhaps—a deeper exploration of meditation and mindfulness, framed by a design-focused narrative and a multidimensional perspective. Think of it as a research project, if you will—a response that I believe is both timely and necessary.
I’ll be asking questions like:
How are we embedding principles of mindful living in our lives today?
How might design help guide us?
How might I use my own experiences to inform design?
What is design currently doing to embody mindfulness, a principle rooted in meditation? What might that look like?
How can we design to integrate mindful moments—or vice versa?
What is the influence of Eastern philosophy, and how can we reflect on it through design?
And what do efforts to incorporate mindfulness into various aspects of life look like for others?
The teachings of the Buddhist Dharma deeply reflect on relieving the suffering of oneself and others. “People suffer because they are caught in their views. As soon as we release those views, we are free and we don't suffer anymore.” ― Thich Nhat Hanh
In light of this, I promise to do my best to help people connect with new perspectives surrounding meditation and mindfulness.
Have a look at what I’m reading this week, Meditations for Mortals by Oliver Burke, if you think life is getting too much.
Find out about the London Buddhist Centre here.
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