A 10-Minute Mind Clearing

INDUSTRIA SUPERSTUDIO, the West Village citadel of fashion photography where Mark Wahlberg once shed his jeans for a Calvin Klein ad, is not the first place one looks for spiritual enlightenment.

But on a Wednesday night last month, Andy Puddicombe, whom The Times of London once called “Britain’s top meditation guru,” stood before about 100 young, stylish New Yorkers on his first professional visit to the United States. He was hoping to turn the studio into the world’s most smartly accessorized zendo.

“What would New York look like if everyone took just 10 minutes out of their day to step back from it all?” Mr. Puddicombe, a former Buddhist monk, asked in his rubbery Bristol accent. He was trying out his message — that inner peace can be achieved in meditation sessions shorter than the average cab ride — on an invitation-only audience of harried fashion editors, hedge funders and advertising executives.

Outside, the roar of a motorcycle shredded the springtime evening calm. In the rear row, a leggy woman in a black miniskirt tapped away on her BlackBerry.

“New York is undoubtedly my biggest challenge yet,” he said later. Mr. Puddicombe, 38, has made a career of promoting a quick and easy, religion-free brand of meditation, aimed at busy professionals who would ordinarily recoil at the smell of incense. He teaches techniques that can be practiced on a crowded subway or even while wolfing a sandwich (albeit, mindfully) during a quick lunch break at your desk.

Next year, he and his business partner, Rich Pierson (a former client), plan to move their nonprofit organization, Headspace, to the United States and set up operations in New York, Miami and Los Angeles.

Purists may raise an eyebrow at his promise of a shortcut path to bliss, but Mr. Puddicombe has already struck a chord in the United Kingdom, where he has become something of a Dr. Phil of the yogi set. His new book, “Get Some Headspace: 10 Minutes Can Make All the Difference,” was part of a three-book deal that earned him an advance in the mid-six figures, in dollars.

His group’s Web site, getsomeheadspace.com, features beginner-friendly instructional videos and had 200,000 visitors last year, due in part to Mr. Puddicombe’s regular appearances on BBC Radio. He is also branching into television. In September, Channel 4 in Britain will start a series of 10-minute meditation videos that he stars in. They will be broadcast between regular programs, like tiny TV shows.

His growing media presence has been built on top of a clinical practice in the Kensington district of London that caters to hard-charging achievers: bankers, actors, Premier League soccer players and members of Parliament. He also consults for corporations like Nomura securities and Google.

As such, it’s tempting to call him the maharishi of the money class. But Mr. Puddicombe is uncomfortable with any messianic connotations. “I’m the anti-guru,” he said. Despite his Dalai Lama-esque shaved head, he could be mistaken for a nightclubbing striker for the Tottenham Hotspur soccer team, with his sleek sports jackets from Uniqlo and shirts that show off his muscular build.

Ed Halliwell, a meditation author and writer for The Guardian’s Web site, said Mr. Puddicombe is “doing for meditation what someone like Jamie Oliver has done for food.” And like Mr. Oliver, he’s ready to conquer the United States. At the Industria event, Mr Puddicombe was not promising spiritual enlightenment, only a technique that combines steady breathing with mind-focusing exercises.

“We’ve secularized meditation,” he said.

“Sit upright,” he instructed his well-dressed class, in the soothing tones of a massage therapist. “Not bolt upright, so you’re tense.” He asked everyone to close their eyes, count their breaths slowly and let go of wandering thoughts, as he guided them step by step through the program.

After 10 minutes, the audience was instructed to snap out of its reverie. People opened their eyes wide, trying to refocus them, as if waking up from a long nap.

Flynn Coleman, a lawyer from Manhattan, said afterward that she found herself battling thoughts about legal briefs back at the office, and about organizing her closet. She kept wondering how much was left on her MetroCard.

“But,” she added, with an air of victory, “I just had that thought, thought it through, and let it go.”

Posted by seangkhun on 1:23 PM. Filed under Mahayana Buddhism . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. Feel free to leave a response