When I was little in northern China, I used to enjoy sitting by the road, watching people pass by.

I always wondered where they went after they’d disappeared down the street. I also wondered about the look of indifference most bore, interrupted only by the occasional anxious, worried countenance. None of them smiled as they passed by, or bothered to say “hi” to a little girl.

“Why don’t they smile?” I once asked my parents, who told me that adults were always busy with work—too stressed to be happy.

I grew up and, even though my life was an easy one, I followed the example set by those around me: I was by no means happy. Life was full of chores and insignificant distractions. I was always busy, but also bored: there didn’t seem to be any point.

Separately, I refused to look at myself in the mirror; I just figured that I was too ugly to worry about my appearance—which is probably true for anyone who never smiles.

I tried everything I could to change who I was: I read all kinds of books; I immersed myself in philosophy.

It just didn’t work.

Any joy I felt was only transient—before long, I’d have returned to my original state of mind.

Gradually, I became disheartened… and emotionally disconnected.

I had a few friends who were Puti Meditation practitioners… They seemed to have experienced dramatic physical and mental changes after beginning with it; so, I decided to try for myself. I signed up for a Meditation and Fitness Retreat on October 1st, 2006. I was looking for an overall improvement in my physical health and help with a sleep disorder that had been dogging me since July—I’d be awake till three in the morning, and then wake up at six. I was also hoping meditation would help improve my concentration; I became anxious and distracted very easily.

I knew a lot about the mind already, having majored in psychology at college, but I just couldn’t cheer myself up. I was really hoping to learn something during the Retreat that would improve my mental state.

When I arrived at the Retreat, I’d already decided to dedicate myself—to leave everything else behind and thoroughly commit to this meditation process. So, for twelve days, I sat in the front row, hoping to learn more. The first two days, practicing the Meditation of Greater Illumination was really difficult! My body hurt so much that it was hard to get out of bed. But from the fourth day on, I began to sleep much better, and my concentration improved when we practiced the visualization meditations.

I have to admit that the 12-day Retreat has transformed me. The most amazing thing is that I’ve developed the ability to live in the moment—treasure it. I’m becoming aware of the little things that I wasn’t interested in before. For instance, I can sit quietly in a garden now and enjoy gazing at the flowers shifting in the sunlight.

I’m appreciating the joys of life.

Before, I spent every moment thinking about the future. Appreciate flowers? What a waste of time!

Now, I’ve come to fully understand that appreciating the here-and-now is an essential skill—if I can’t take pleasure in the present, how will I appreciate success once it arrives? Once it becomes the present?

I’m much happier now, and the happiness is deep… part of the foundation of my being. Meditation has altered my entire outlook on life.

Master JinBodhi once said, “Only a gentle heart finds the nourishment it needs.”

Well, my heart was sealed in a hard shell for over 30 years—I’ve missed too much in my life. I turned down others’ help and opinions; I was quite egocentric, and saw the people around me simply as minor characters in my own story. Nowadays, I think I’m part of a greater world… a greater meditation.

My practice is just like a private petrol station: whenever I get run down, I pull over for a break and fuel up. Then, I can hit the road again with a lighter heart.

There’s a study being conducted at the University of British Columbia whose objective is to determine how best the ancient practice of meditation can be integrated with modern psychological practice. I believe the task will be painstaking, but that it is critically important. Meditation should be broadly available, so that we can all face the challenges of life more positively.

There is a truth that rests at the core of this practice—a sense of purity. I’m confident I’ll be able to understand these things better with the passage of time; with the accumulation of experience. When that happens, I want to be able to help others who are unhappy… as I was; even all the money in the world is meaningless when there is sadness and discontent—so, the residing happiness I now feel is the ultimate wealth.

It’s the key to all other joys.