By Sarath Obeysekera

As a child, my mother was an ardent devotee of the deity of Kataragama Temple. Before every important examination or milestone in my life, she would take me on a long journey by bus to Kataragama. In those days, it was an adventure in itself.
We travelled for an entire day and stayed in a simple dormitory near the temple. We enjoyed the hospitality of the devotees and even received free northern-style breakfasts. Early in the morning, we stood in long queues carrying a basket of fruits and a humble offering of one hundred rupees, hoping to attract the attention of the temple’s custodian, the Kapuwa”.
Did the ritual itself make me pass my examinations? Perhaps not directly. But I always returned home with renewed confidence, optimism and determination. Faith gave me courage, and courage often became the key to success.
My father was different. He was a devoted Buddhist and never accompanied us to Kataragama. Every evening at seven o’clock, he gathered his eight children and taught us Anapanasati—mindfulness of breathing. We sat quietly, observing our breath and learning to calm our minds.

As I grew older, I realised that both my parents were teaching me valuable lessons in different ways.

My Tamil friends visited the sacred Nallur Kandaswamy Kovil in Jaffna. My Muslim friends sought blessings at the historic Kahatagaha Mosque. Though our places of worship differed, we all searched for the same things—hope, protection, courage and peace of mind.
Later in life, a friend introduced me to the teachings of S. N. Goenka and a ten-day residential retreat at a Vipassana Meditation Centre.

The experience was transformative.
For ten days there was no communication with the outside world. No telephone, newspapers, television or social media. There was noble silence. One simply observed one’s breath, sensations and thoughts.

Initially, the silence seemed difficult. Then, gradually, the mind became calm and clear.
I discovered that true confidence does not come from external praise or possessions. It arises from understanding one’s own mind.

Vipassana taught me mindfulness, kindness, compassion and equanimity—the ability to remain balanced in success and failure, pleasure and pain.
The Buddha taught that suffering arises because we constantly react to pleasant and unpleasant experiences. Through mindfulness and meditation, we learn to observe without attachment or hatred. This understanding gradually brings peace and wisdom.

What Can Young People Learn?

From Kataragama: Faith can inspire confidence and hope.

From Nallur Temple: Devotion teaches discipline, gratitude and respect for tradition.

From Kahatagaha Mosque: Prayer and community strengthen brotherhood and compassion.

From Anapanasati: Awareness of breathing develops concentration and emotional stability.

From Vipassana: Mindfulness teaches us to understand ourselves and respond wisely rather than react impulsively.

Why Religious Education Alone Is Not Enough
Every child should learn religion. Religion provides moral values, teaches right from wrong and nurtures respect for others.
However, as young people mature and face the pressures of examinations, careers, relationships and an increasingly digital world, they need another essential skill—the ability to manage their minds.
Meditation develops:
• Concentration
• Emotional intelligence
• Self-discipline
• Resilience under stress
• Compassion and kindness
• Inner confidence and peace
Modern education teaches us how to make a living. Meditation teaches us how to live.
Perhaps this was the wisdom of the Buddha’s teaching. Faith may guide us to the temple, church, kovil or mosque, but mindfulness guides us to understand ourselves.
Sri Lanka is blessed with many religions and sacred places. Yet all of them ultimately point towards similar human values—kindness, compassion, self-discipline and inner peace.
Our children should learn religion to become good human beings. As they grow older, they should also learn meditation to become peaceful, balanced and wise human beings.
The journey that began for me as a little boy carrying a basket of fruits to Kataragama eventually led me to discover something even deeper: the greatest temple we can ever explore is our own mind.

Dr Sarath Obeysekera