I've drifted in and out of vegetarianism for years.

The weird thing is, I'm not entirely sure that I am meant to think that such a gift is who I am according to the philosophy underlying Vedanta. But I have long been stubborn like that, for some reason. It's a gift, as I say.

What I find difficult about Buddhism, though it is also one of its significant fascinations, is the focus on what is immediately and physically present. To me, this seems a denial of the imagination, and the imagination is very important to me.

More or less the first thing that comes into my head is that some people are always looking for what they want to do in life and never finding it. I'm not one of those people. It has been very obvious to me from an early age who I am, and this has been tied up with creativity, and, specifically, with writing.

On the other hand, the seventies were drab. That is, I am utterly fascinated by the fifties and sixties.

To me the seventies represent normality, and, of course, it is a normality that is now anachronistic.

The peculiar thing is that, in focusing only on the here and now, Buddhism seems to despise the world.