At the ashram, I am a little envious of the spiritual names some of the others have. Brahmani, Ganesha, Bhargavi, Jyothi….they suit this place. We are living a different life, it is right that we should be living it under a different name. Names are important: they form a part of your identity.

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Towards the end of the week, this feeling of envy develops into something more positive: I want to “fix” what I have learnt, to be able to access it when I am back in my “other” life. A spiritual name would help.

I approach Swami K. She tells me that to get a spiritual name, I need to choose a mantra and undergo an initiation ceremony.

This sounds quite serious. I always enjoy our morning and evening satsang but need the Sanskrit words in front of me for most of the chants. I don’t really know anything about mantras.

I go away and study the mantra book. I look at the English translations. Very quickly I find one. It’s a prayer to a destructive force. It may not sound very positive, but the force destroys pain and negativity from all your past lives, and gives you balance in your judgment. It feels right.

After evening satsang I tell Swami K that I have chosen my mantra. She schedules my initiation for the next morning at eight, after morning satsang, in the temple. I am to bring prasad – a gift of food – and flowers, and a symbolic donation. I must shower and wear the cleanest whitest clothes I have. I should not speak to anyone in the morning until after my initiation.

Before going to bed I go to the kitchen and prepare a plate of fruit as an offering. Back in my room I set my alarm for 5.20. I feel nervous, and have a restless night. A questioning night. Am I right to go through this initiation? What is my motivation? Is it just because I want a spiritual name? Am I being hypocritical? Childish?

In the morning, showered and dressed in white, my blanket over my shoulders, I put a donation in my plate of fruit and go to the garden. I pick a daffodil, two tulips, a hyacinth, and some apple blossom. I go up to satsang feeling solemn, but still a little anxious.

After satsang, I go out to the temple and sit on a cushion, facing the three altars, my blanket wrapped tightly around me, and close my eyes. I try to identify how I feel. A voice in my head tells me this is all wrong: it’s fine to live this way at the ashram, but get me out of here and in no time I’ll be lounging in front of the TV, a glass of wine in my hand, buying yet another pretty top in Punta Carretas Shopping Centre, or calling the beautician for a manicure and pedicure. I’ll just look back on this as a crazy middle-aged hippie wannabe experience.

But another voice tells me this, now, feels right. And now is what counts. (I cynically think of the Visa advertisement plastered all over Montevideo: “Visa: Porque la Vida es Ahora”: Visa, because Life is Now).

Soon Swami K comes into the temple and sits opposite me. “Om, Chausiku, Let’s make sure you know your mantra well. It’s important that you pronounce every word correctly.” So we practise it, syllable by syllable, until it is ringing in my head like a litany. It feels comfortable, comforting, like reciting the rosary was when I was a small girl at boarding school.

Swami tells me that I should repeat my mantra all the time when I meditate, and that I will receive energy, balance, strength and direction from it.

With her fingers, she puts an orange powder mark and some white lines on my forehead, and tells me to go and offer my gifts to Ganesha, the elephant-head deity, and prostrate myself in front of him. Then I should meditate for twenty minutes. I imagine my family watching me go through this ritual……I am generally regarded as the family cynic, especially on spiritual matters.

I offer my gifts to the statue of Ganesha, bow down, and settle again on my cushion. Swami K gets up to leave. Suddenly I remember.

“And my name? My spiritual name?” I ask her.

“Ah, your name.” She sits on her cushion again, cross-legged, and closes her eyes. After several minutes she opens them again.

“Your name is Parvati,” she says. “Parvati is the wife of Siva. She is the mother of the whole universe. She paves the way for peace and happiness in the world.”

I like that. Parvati.