Since working from home on Feb 7, I have had to make quite a few adjustments to cope with the sudden change in work arrangements.

For one thing, my guest bedroom is now a portal into my work life, called the "SPH room"; the living room is now the "Situation Room", where I catch up on coronavirus news on TV; and my balcony has been repurposed into the "Hermitage in the Forest".

It is where I sit near my potted plants to meditate for about 15 minutes twice a day on weekdays - just to salvage what is left of my sanity after corrosive pandemic news.

It is difficult to sit through the news on TV without experiencing a sinking feeling that tomorrow, the streets will look like a set from post-apocalyptic horror TV series The Walking Dead.

But thankfully, I have found the antidote in meditation.

Using the breath-control technique of pranayama - a 5,000-year-old practice of mindfulness and detachment - I've been able to rein in feelings of despair.

In 2001, I was trapped with 11 other Hindu devotees inside a tourist van 3,000m above sea level in the Kumaun Himalayan mountain range.

We were on a pilgrimage to the temple site of Badrinath in Uttarakhand, India.

Spring water had dislodged the cobblestones and made the road precariously slippery.

Eventually, we journeyed on, but I would not have coped if I had not drawn on pranayama to survive that near-death experience.

Pranayama's deep diaphragmatic breathing draws oxygen into the lower chest area, and is combined with meditation that includes mindfulness and detachment.

With much practice, I am now able to withdraw my senses from the outside world - sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch - to become "aware of awareness".

Even after 19 years of meditation, I still cannot control the racing thoughts in my head.

But with pranayama, I am able to observe them from a vantage of inner peace and calm.