I tried to persuade the boys to visit the Chinese temple after Group Violin yesterday, but they were very reluctant. Not only because they find it boring, but they made good points that they were carrying their violins, it was raining, and it’s not Chinese New Year. And they were like: “Why are you going to the temple anyway? I thought you’re not religious?”

I said I was “spiritual” but not “religious”, and tried rather unsuccessfully to explain the difference between the two. I explained that I’m at a juncture, where I feel like I need all the help I can get. I’m not sure if the praying works, but if there’s even a small chance that it helps – even just by calming me down – then I want to take it. But in the end, I decided not to visit yesterday, and instead make time to swing by the temple before school pick up today.

I’m sure there are some years I don’t go to a temple even once – perhaps during the COVID years? – and this is the third time I’ve visited Fo Guang Shan temple in three months, an average of once a month. Maybe I should just try visiting it once a month for the duration of this year.

For now, visiting the temple acts like a momentary meditative break for me to feel connected to my past / childhood / my mum – a younger, innocent, more hopeful time. It helps me disconnect from my daily stress, reminds me to be grateful for all that I have, think about my friends and family, and makes me feel like I am doing something towards the things that are important to me – even it is ‘just’ focussing my will and energies on them – rather than divine help. ‘Manifesting’, if you will.

It is my oasis when I need to take a breath and calm myself. What I’ve perhaps always loved best about it is that it is right in the heart of Central London. I delight in the incongruity. It’s like a secret for the Chinese diaspora: a quiet unassuming building, housing Buddha statues – and for me, my cultural memories and a hint of home – a mere stone’s throw away from London’s major commercial thoroughfare.

Today, on the way out, I noticed the couplet on the door to the entrance: “光在前望, 向前有路”, translated as “The light is in sight, there is a way forward”. I certainly hope so.

I am, I am, I am.