I live overlooking Belfast Lough. Every morning the water is a different colour and the surface a different texture, depending on the wind and the tide. Birds wheel and dive and sometimes a seal puts its head up to view the coastline. Ships sail back and forth to Belfast harbour day and night. After the darkness falls, the County Down coastline is a jewelled thread of lights. I used to think that meditation and prayer were all about closing my eyes and focusing inwards towards God. Now all my meditative and mystic moments at home are spent at the window, keeping my eyes open, watching the lough. In the East, the tradition of mindfulness is a vibrant and ancient one – nurturing the ability to look, listen and feel with utter attentiveness. By doing this, it is believed, we become more aware of the divine in everything. We need an attentiveness, I believe, here in the West, that takes time to forget projects and deadlines, to go deeper even than our hopes and sorrows, joys, fears and the best and the worst in our human relationships and just notice the place we are for what it is.