I set my alarm for 7am hoping that'll give me a good 1/2 hour to practice before work. But I don't roll out of bed till 8:45, and barely have time to get dressed before running out the door. I resolve once again to "catch up" on my meditation tonight.

I attempt to bring presence to my speed-walk to the subway, which works until I descend into the hot windy tunnel to catch the F train. The homeless guy slumped over a bench stares at me and I try to meet his gaze, because I don't want to pretend he doesn't exist. I hope my look conveys empathy but it probably just looks like a bitchy New Yorker glare.

To tune out my thoughts I pull out my ipod and turn on Pema Chodron's audio collection as I squeeze into the train. By the time I’ve actually untangled my headphone wires we're at 14th street and pouring out onto the New York city sidewalks. I merge in with the pedestrian traffic and walk to my building. Pema is finally playing and I feel a greater sense of presence as I walk.

THANK YOU SPEECH TO SOGYAL RINPOCHE FOR HIS AWESOMENESS

Dear Rinpoche,

When I first got here to Lerab Ling, I thought this retreat would be a cakewalk. I mean, so easy. I’d walk around in the sunshine, enjoy the beauty of the hills, get some meditation tips, slide into that peaceful zone, it’d be great.

I’d done a retreat that was really hard, a 10 day vipassana course in Pune, India. 10 days of silence, 10 hours per day of meditation, no airconditioning … that was hard. Compared to that, I thought this one would be Club Med.

But then I got here… and it wasn’t Club Med at all. I was having a really hard time! I was distracted, I was itchy, I didn’t feel happy, there was no peaceful zone … and I couldn’t understand what was going on.

I ran into a young girl today, who was part of the Rigpa Yeshe (a parallel program for the children of people attending the retreat). We bonded over my iPhone 4 and the Zen timer app I have on it – it has gongs to start a meditation session; interval bells to divide a session into segments; programmable presets for your morning and evening practice and a journal option to record your thoughts. All in all it’s pretty cool in a very nerdy way, and Noa Sussenbach thought so too.

Excited to find somebody on my wavelength (and to talk about something other than mindfulness, awareness and spaciousness) I asked her if she wouldn’t mind participating in my blog. I was curious about the experience of this retreat from the perspective of a teenager, and also pretty amazed that a teenager would even come to a meditation retreat. When I was in my teens, I’m pretty sure I didn’t know my rear end from my front. I was definitely ensnared in the ocean of samsara, and its pounding waves of high school, boy crushes, mean girls and adolescent acne (a fate worse than death).

Show me a bathroom without a hook on the door, and I’ll show you a bathroom designed by a man.

Here’s an exercise for you Ngöndro students - visualize holding a purse, a laptop case and a scarf in your arms while hovering 2 inches above a toilet seat for a couple minutes. Done? Now visualize reaching for the toilet paper.

At the morning teaching session I fantasized about fedexing Lerab Ling a bunch of stick-on hooks that I would get at Walmart for a dollar. Meanwhile, Rinpoche was telling us that the source of all fear was a mind untamed. As I tried to figure out whether my bathroom beef stemmed from my untamed mind, or did I just need to buy hooks, a man raised his hand. He wanted to learn how to handle the anger of his spouse. Rinpoche dug deeper into the matter, at which point the man told a shocking and very disturbing story.

Then however, we started chanting and reciting prayers, and I could feel my skepticism rise up at the rituals that followed. Granted, the full Vajrayana spectacle doesn’t usually occur on the first day of a meditation retreat for beginners - this was a special occasion. But it did give me a glimpse of what my future would be like if I stayed on this path : visualizing gods I don’t believe in, chanting mantras in a language I don’t speak, and praying for the long life of lamas who teach impermanence. Hmm.

I ponder this while chugging coffee at 6am at the Gare de Lyon in Paris, waiting for the train to Montpellier to start my meditation retreat.

It seemed like a really good idea on that freezing winter night in New York City, when I booked my spot. Warm, sunny, South of France, (sunny)! Sold! It was great for the next few months as I fantasized at my desk (and bragged to my co-workers) about the amazing retreat I was going on and all the inner peace I was gonna get.

However, now I am actually here, giving up a beach holiday and fruity drinks, for what I am now told is a NOT sunny, NOT warm retreat. So… what the hell am I doing here?