Category: Personal Story

  • Sitting down is an act of revolution

    Sitting down is an act of revolution

    The act of sitting down is an act of revolution — Thich Nhat Hanh

    Sitting down is revolutionary because it means you are stopping and choosing to rest in this place, in this moment.

    It’s revolutionary, because modern life is so busy. At work I’m busy getting things done, then I turn to projects at home, to shopping, to gardening, to exercise.  Even after my work is done, I still keep checking email or looking for stimulation, to see if there’s something new and exciting happening on Twitter, or Instagram, or Reddit. 

    This busy-ness acquires a kind of momentum of its own, so that we barely remember that we have bodies.

    And there’s nothing more present to us than our bodies, so it’s kind of a ridiculous situation. 

    There is a kind of loneliness or restlessness that we try to fill with movies, TV shows, reading books, alcohol, or food. But that emptiness never gets filled up. You can only distract yourself from it for a while, but it never goes away.

    When you learn to stop, and just sit there, you have a chance to return to yourself. To your true self, and the true nature of reality.

    And that’s revolutionary too, because too often we never stop to look deeply into who we really are.

    Row of monks sitting in meditation
    Photo of Thay and Monastics from 2011

    For a long time I didn’t take rest very seriously. I recognized that if I wanted to do good work or exercise well, then I needed rest in between periods of effort. But it felt to me like the rest was just something that I had to do in between the meaningful parts, the important stuff.

    And I often felt, as I think many people do, that the rest was something I had to earn. So I would work hard and only then would I felt like I deserved to rest at the end of the day, or on the weekend.

    Rest seemed like nothing to me. Just sitting there was usually quite boring, unless I was making the effort to meditate. I needed something to do.

    But some things have happened in the past year or two that have helped me to understand rest better.

    Sitting as protest

    One of the things that has happened is getting acquainted with active, living traditions of protest and resistance, many of which have involved sitting down in public: Sitting down as an act of revolution. 

    Civil rights sit-in. Man reading a book.
    Civil rights sit-in. Photo from the State Archives of North Carolina

    For example, sit-ins in the 1950s and 1960s were a powerful form of resistance. Simply by sitting in a particular place, simply by showing up and being present, people were able to put enormous wheels of change into motion.

    This was not always easy. Far from it. Sometimes others would yell at these people who were sitting down at a lunch counter, or pour food on them or drag them out forcibly, arresting them and charging them with breaking the law. In fact, many of the people who took part in these sit-in protests were arrested and convicted — and it was only in the 21st century that their charges were dismissed and their records cleared

    I think this is another reason why Thich That Hanh says that sitting is an act of revolution. Sometimes, just sitting at a lunch counter is a protest, because you’re not supposed to be there. Sometimes, just sitting requires you to do something different than what everyone around you is doing — and that can be revolutionary.

    Sitting down as a form of active protest has continued for decades, kept alive by generations of activists. For example, Extinction Rebellion has carried on this tradition by sitting in public spaces. Although these protests can be disruptive, for instance by stopping traffic, XR is also committed to nonviolence, peace, and to doing these actions in a very mindful way.

    A Plum Village monastic, Brother Phap Man, sat down with Extinction Rebellion protestors in New York in 2019, and got arrested. He’s written about how it was one of the most important and meaningful days of his life.

    Sangha members protesting during XR
    Brother Phap Man (right, in the brown robes) at XR Protest in NYC

    Days of mindfulness and lazy days

    People who aspire to be part of the core community of the Order of Interbeing, to be ordained as OI members and follow the 14 Mindfulness Trainings, are asked to observe 60 days of mindfulness a year.

    This is already a daunting requirement. If every day of mindfulness is like the formal days of mindfulness hosted by various sanghas, this is a lot of work! Organizing a day of mindfulness takes a lot of thoughtful planning, communication, and patience. You need to find someone to facilitate meditation, someone to offer deep relaxation, someone to facilitate dharma sharing. Maybe there is a dharma talk. Perhaps someone else will offer some kind of mindful movement. You’ll want some time for singing and for mindfully eating together.

    Even attending one of these days of mindfulness can be a lot of work, because you need to clear your schedule and bring 100% of your focus to it, as much as possible.

    And you’re supposed to do 60 of those a year?

    At some point I learned that Thay also recommends taking a “Lazy Day” every week. This was the point at which I got a little freaked out, and started to think that the OI path might only be suitable for monastics and retired people.

    60 Days of Mindfulness plus a Lazy Day every one of the 52 weeks of the year means 112 days, or about one-third of my year, would be devoted to mindfulness and Plum Village practices.

    I am sure I’d be a very spiritual person if I could do all that, but with a job, a house, a wife, two kids, two dogs, and a cat to look after, it did not seem like a realistic lifestyle for me.

    Also, I didn’t want to do any days of mindfulness or “sitting down” actions where I could get arrested, because I can’t really afford to get arrested right now!

    Learning to do less

    Sitting and protesting
    Two demonstrators at Sit-Walk-Listen  in San Francisco, 2020. Photo by Dylan

    Despite these fears, somehow I actually managed to get started with the OI aspiration process. And as I started to talk with my teacher, Lennis Lyon, one of the first things she told me to think about was asking myself not “what more can I do?” but “what less can I do?” 

    I took this so seriously that I wrote a little calligraphy saying “What Less Can I Do?” and I put it on the cover of my notebook. This is the notebook that I use to write down all the things related to my aspiration, all my notes on the things I need to do in order to be a good Buddhist. I had to put a little calligraphy on the cover to remind myself that I don’t necessarily need to do so much.

    Still, I wanted to create a reading list, a curriculum for my training as an aspirant. Lennis told me that she used to have a curriculum, but she doesn’t really use it. But after a few months, she reluctantly gave me a reading assignment.

    It was just 4 pages from The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching, specifically, the passage on aimlessness — apranihita.

    So even with this assignment, Lennis was trying to teach me to do less!

    Aimlessness is about not trying too hard. Not aiming for anything in particular but just letting each moment be, and doing what needs doing right now. 

    In that passage was a line that really struck me:

    “There is no need to put anything in front of us and run after it. We already have everything we are looking for, everything we want to become. We are already a Buddha so why not just take the hand of another Buddha and practice walking meditation?” 

    Tree lined street with lights
    Walking meditation at Sit-Walk-Listen in San Francisco, 2020. Photo by Dylan 

    Uposatha Days and Sabbath Days

    Another thing that helped me understand rest better is learning about the work of Tricia Hersey. She is a performance artist and activist, and the founder of “The Nap Ministry,” which is “an organization that examines the liberating power of naps.” You can follow the Nap Ministry on Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter — she’s very inspiring.

    Tricia Hersey brings black liberation theology together with a critique of capitalism and patriarchy — and she is also an enthusiastic proponent of taking naps. 

    Hersey also talks about Sabbath days — sacred days of rest.

    In the Jewish tradition, Shabbat, the Sabbath, happens once a week. It honors the seventh day of creation, the day on which God rested. When I looked into it, I learned that the Sabbath is very deep, and similar in spirit to Uposatha Days and Days of Mindfulness. It’s a chance to connect with the divine, with true reality, to be extra mindful of what is most important and most real in life. It is a sacred time.

    (On this topic, I also recommend this short post on Shabbat by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat, as well as the book The Sabbath by Abraham Heschel.)

    Then I remembered that in the Buddhist tradition, there is also a kind of Sabbath, called Uposatha days.

    These are days when you work less, you study the dharma more, you might follow a few extra precepts, maybe you stay overnight at a temple. They happen at the new Moon, the full Moon, and the two quarter Moons in between — in other words, about once a week.

    In both of these traditions, rest is very important. The Nap Ministry talks about creating “sacred and safe spaces for the community to rest together.” Safe spaces are important! But it is also important to create sacred and safe times for the community to rest. This is the brilliance of Uposatha days and Sabbath days. 

    In this view — which the Nap Ministry woke me up to — rest is not something you earn. It is not something you only get to do after a hard day, or a hard week, of work.

    Hersey, and Heschel, taught me that rest is a divine right. It is when we are resting that we are most in touch with our true, divine nature. It is only our conditioning that makes us think we need to work all the time, to hustle, to grind, to be busy busy busy. (And who does that benefit?)

    Lazy days of mindfulness

    So with apranihita and Shabbat in mind I started thinking about how I could get away with doing less than 112 days of very spiritual practice a year.

    The first thing I did was to combine Days of Mindfulness and Lazy Days. So now, once a week, I observe a Lazy Day of Mindfulness where I try, as much as possible, to do just one thing at a time, to take it easy and to rest. I try to be as mindful as I can be, while going about the activities of my normal weekend life. It’s my Day of Rest.

    There are actually thousands of years of traditional precedent, both East and West, for doing this!

    It was a real breakthrough for me to realize that rest is actually a part of Buddhist practice — maybe the most important part. For instance, I used to take a very “busy” approach to meditation. It didn’t count as meditation unless I was working really hard at it! I had to be counting breaths, very strict about my attention, sitting very rigidly, and so on.

    But no: Meditation is also about rest. Just sitting. Just being present in a particular place, right now.

    This is not just an individual practice. Sanghas can also organize Lazy Days of Mindfulness, days when the sangha gets together but the organizers don’t feel like they have to fill the whole day with scheduled activities. Maybe we just get together, meditate for awhile, do some mindful walking, and then see what other activities might manifest based on who’s there and what they want to offer. Calligraphy? Reading? Or maybe we all drink a little tea and then take naps.

    Boy monastic sleeping
    Photo of a young monk

    As Thay has written: “Resting is a very important practice; we have to learn the art of resting. Resting is the first part of Buddhist meditation. You should allow your body and your mind to rest. Our mind as well as our body needs to rest.” 

    People practicing Deep Relaxation at Deer Park
    Deep Relaxation at Deer Park

    Four meditation postures

    Rest and meditation can both happen in a variety of ways — even standing or walking. In fact, the Buddha recognized four postures for meditation: sitting, standing, walking, and lying down. 

    The Plum Village tradition has sitting meditation, of course, and we are very good at walking meditation. We also have lying-down meditation, only we call it deep relaxation. Half the time we may fall asleep during deep relaxation, but that is okay. Rest is a divine right!

    Standing meditation is not discussed a lot in our tradition, as far as I know. But I did get to practice standing meditation during Sit-Walk-Listen, which was a series of mindful demonstrations in support of Black Lives Matter that took place in San Francisco, Los Angeles, and New York in the summer and fall of 2020. These events were organized by an inspiring group of Wake Up practitioners who put a lot of careful attention into making the events inclusive, safe, and restful spaces; sometimes there were over 100 people all meditating, moving, and talking to support Black Lives Matter (and later, also, to support Stop Asian Hate).

    At many of these events, I was one of the “caretakers” who stood watch while everyone else practiced sitting meditation in a public place, such as the broad plaza in front of City Hall in San Francisco. Usually there were four of us caretakers, standing outside the meditation circle, keeping an eye out for anyone who might come by: passersby, media, police, and “shouty people.”

    When I wasn’t talking with passersby, which was most of the time, this practice was about just standing there. Just breathing and observing. And I found that, while this was also part of the demonstration, it was very restful as well.

    Monk resting in a tree
    Monk in a tree. Is this sitting, standing, or lying-down meditation?

    My conclusion is simple: I enthusiastically recommend taking a lazy day and a day of mindfulness every week, and make them the same day. You can call it a day of rest, as I do.

    It can be helpful to put a little ceremony around these days in order to give yourself extra permission to rest. For example, in observant Jewish families, it’s traditional to joyfully welcome the Sabbath with candles and prayer and song. I’m not Jewish, but I’ve experimented with lighting candles to welcome the weekend on Friday night, which is nice. My family is not too excited about prayers and songs, so I’m leaving those aside for now, but the candles we all like.

    I find it is helpful to put my phone away, to turn it off or to not carry it in my pocket, and spend all day off the internet as much as possible.

    I try to eat each meal mindfully, maybe reciting the Five Contemplations first. If I can take a mindful walk around the neighborhood, that’s good too.

    Of course I have things to do on Saturdays: Shopping, taking care of the garden, driving my kids to one place or another. So strict Shomer Shabbos rules like “no handling money” or “no driving cars” don’t work for me, although they might be very supportive for others. (Note: that’s a link to a video clip from The Big Lebowski, which might not make sense if you don’t know the movie.)

    The basic idea, though, is whatever I have to do, I try to do it as mindfully as possible.

    I think there are many ways to put together a day of rest, and it’s worth some experimentation. This is just how I do it, and it’s been working very well for me for the past couple of years, but some other restful practices may work better for you.

    And of course, a day of rest should include a nap! Dogs can be a great inspiration for this.

    Dog sleeping with all legs up
    Lucy, bodhisattva of naps. Photo by Karen Jensen

    A word of warning, though. Sitting down and resting is an act of revolution. If you follow this practice, you may find that you start to see things differently. You might find you are increasingly out of sync with the always-on, constantly busy world we live in. You might start to wonder why everyone in a capitalist, patriarchal society feels they need to hustle so hard. You might start to imagine a world where we all have the freedom to do less. You might start to think about liberation.

    One last recommendation: If you can get a hammock, or borrow a friend’s, lying in a hammock is a really good thing to do on a day of rest!

    Hammock by a river
    Hammock.
  • Joanne Friday

    Joanne Friday

    Joanne Friday teaching.

    On January 20, 2021, Joanne Friday, our beloved dharma teacher, partner, friend, and mentor, transitioned from the Historic dimension into the Ultimate dimension.

    Joanne was a Dharma teacher in the Tiep Hien Order, the Order of Interbeing, founded by Buddhist monk and Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh. In 2003 she received authority to teach from Thich Nhat Hanh, her teacher for twenty-seven years.

  • A Letter of Support

    In light of hearing from so many who are struggling amid these times of political changes, I felt called to offer this letter, of which I hope will offer some support and benefit.

    Dear friends along the path,

    I know you suffer, and I am here for you.

    I see that your anger and fear are rooted in a fierce compassion for others and out of a strong desire to do what you feel and know is right. As a mindfulness practitioner, the question is not whether or not to be angry, it’s about how we utilize our anger to influence our thoughts, speech, and actions. Is our anger motivating us to become more informed and involved with an open heart and sense of connection and compassion, or with an un-grounded, frantic sense of heaviness and despair? What seeds are we sowing in our wake?

    Do you feel as though anger is not only an appropriate response but a necessary one, in order to affect change? I remember feeling this way when I was in my early 20’s. It took me a long while to reconcile my mindfulness practice with my deep-rooted feelings of anger, related to those I felt were responsible for both large and small acts of environmental degradation. Without anger, I queried, wouldn’t I then become complacent and ineffectual? Wasn’t anger a crucial motivator? As my foundation of mindfulness was being built and strengthened, I came to understand that the answer, to both questions, was: no.

    There resides a middle path to follow. One that allows us to become involved with matters of injustice, human rights, and environmental advocacy work (just to name a few) while also choosing not to carry around and spread the heavy burden of anger everywhere we go. May our anger and upset start us on the path of active engagement with the world around us, and may we then learn how to transform that anger into mindfulness, concentration, and insight, so that our speech and actions will cause as little harm as possible as we move forward.

    Anger isn’t necessarily a bad thing. However, if we’re not careful and attentive, it can easily overtake and overwhelm our lives, causing us to become embittered, cynical, miserable, difficult to be around, and mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. If we allow our seeds of anger to be nurtured, we will create a very hostile and unpleasant atmosphere within and around us.

    Feel your anger, dear friends, experience it as it arises, without judgement or suppression – I would not suggest otherwise. But don’t stop there. Investigate it. Become inquisitive. Understand your internal landscape, so that your actions that carry forth will be well informed. Do not allow your anger to go unchecked. Do not allow your seeds of love, ease, equanimity, inclusiveness, and interconnection to go un-watered. The well-being of our family, community, country, society, and the world depends on our ability to embody and practice the tools that mindfulness affords us, especially in the midst of change, challenge, struggle, adversity, and fear.

    With Love and Support,

    Nicole Dunn
    True Wonderful Flower
    Be Here Now Sangha
    Missoula, Montana

  • Serving The Ill And Dying

    I began working as a healthcare chaplain in 2005, the same year I was ordained in the Order of Interbeing.  For those unfamiliar with the role, healthcare chaplains help patients cope with their changing lives using the patient’s own language of meaning, whether that language is religious, scientific, philosophical or based upon their life experiences.  This requires the chaplain to listen with compassion and respond appropriately, without proselytizing the chaplain’s own beliefs.  My chaplaincy and OI practices have grown and supported each other over the years and I’d like to share some insights into how they work together to help me serve the ill and dying. 

    Precepts

    Thay’s poetic and deep rendering of the 14 Mindfulness Trainings have been a constant source of inspiration, support, and correction for my chaplaincy practice.  I’ve recited the precepts every other week since becoming an aspirant, and with each recitation the precepts reveal something new, guiding me back when I’ve strayed or reminding me that, contrary to self-judgements, I’m doing ok. 

    While all the precepts have at one point or another enlivened my chaplaincy, I’d like to mention a few that come up again and again.  (more…)

  • Philip Seymour Hoffman and Me

    Happiness, the End of Suffering, and Recovery

    Forty-six. That’s not so old — young in fact. He and I are both 46, with young children, and in a long term relationship. We both got sober very young and then maintained that sobriety for many years. Mr. Hoffman made it 23-years, and I’m about to reach my 25th year. This is where the story diverges into disbelief, tragedy, and sadness. Philip Seymour Hoffman is dead from a drug overdose in his own house and a needle in his arm.

    How does this happen? Why am I still here and he’s dead? These are the questions on my mind today.

    What is clear to me is that success, fame, and fortune do not equal happiness and recovery. Further, many men and women in their forties die everyday. Many probably die from alcohol or drugs. We can’t really blame the heroin, though it is gnarly and deadly, because we know that the drug is just a symptom of a deeper suffering, a deeper sadness, and an inability to cope with reality.

    Here’s what I know about happiness, the end of suffering, and recovery.

    (more…)

  • A New OI Aspirant

    0000042_be-beautiful-be-yourselfAs I walked with the Sangha through the Oak Grove at Deer Park last summer I heard myself say, “I am a good wife.”  I was startled and happy to hear that spontaneous belief.  For years, when I became irritated, impatient, or outright angry with my husband, I would say to myself, “What a lousy wife I am. He didn’t deserve that.  I was feeling bad about myself and took it out on him. Why does he stay married to me?”  It wasn’t that I had said or done anything really awful, and I knew that my own suffering was  the cause of my feelings and  behavior. Later that day, while listening to the Dharma Talk, I realized that the time was right for me to become an Order of Interbeing aspirant.  Enough of my own suffering had been transformed that I could aspire to the Fourteen Mindfulness Trainings in order to  build on my practice experiences and further transform my suffering. The source of my faith and enthusiasm for practicing mindfulness is the experience of transformation I have seen in my own life and the relief and joy that comes with transformation.  Before I started to practice in 2007, I acted in ways that were petty, vindictive, mean spirited, or judgmental. Each time, I would chastise myself  and vow to be a kinder, better person, but nothing changed.  What I didn’t see was the direct connection between my behavior and my own big melting pot of internal suffering.  I did see that feeling anxious and insecure about myself was the common antecedent to the behaviors that I wanted to change in myself.   But I didn’t know how to become less anxious and more secure.  I felt hopeless to change what I didn’t like in myself.

    After a year or so of practicing mindfulness in the tradition of Thich Nhat Hanh, I began to notice that I was less likely to act in ways that hurt others.  I was more patient and accepting of others.  Since I hadn’t done anything to directly change myself, I realized that the changes must be related to my daily sitting practice and from faithfully attending Sangha every week.  This was a stunning realization.  I realized that I didn’t have to try to change, but rather I could keep practicing and noticing my thoughts and feelings as I had been doing.  I decided to stop trying to purposefully change and just keep sitting.  What a relief! (more…)

  • Replanting A “Forest of Interbeing”: Spiritual Community As Food

    light-forestSeveral months ago, four young friends living in three different countries embarked on a journey together to replant a deforested rainforest in the south of Mexico. The “Forest of Interbeing” project includes the purchasing of 9 hectres of land, roughly 900 acres, in Los Tuxtlas region, in the Mexican state of Veracruz. Formerly home to several varieties of trees, shrubs, and endangered wildlife. Now only 20% of this bio-diverse land remains, deforested for the production of meat through cattle grazing. What we have discovered in the process of creating this project is that replanting forests takes a whole community.

    Our teacher, Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh, talks of the Four Nutriments. The Four elements needed for life. These are Edible Food, Sense Impressions, Volition, and Consciousness. Community is also a kind of food. Community brings together many beings across genders, ethnicity, spiritual beliefs, sexual orientations, race, abilities, socio-economic status, and languages, to find where we meet. At the center of these differences is actually a common need for connection, love, and understanding. (more…)

  • The End of Suffering

    Happiness, the End of Suffering, and Recovery

    Forty-six. That’s not so old – young in fact. He and I are both 46, with young children, and in a long term relationship. We both got sober very young and then maintained that sobriety for many years. Mr. Hoffman made it 23-years, and I’m about to reach my 25th year. This is where the story diverges into disbelief, tragedy, and sadness. Philip Seymour Hoffman is dead from a drug overdose in his own house and a needle in his arm.

    How does this happen? Why am I still here and he’s dead? These are the questions on my mind today.

    What is clear to me is that success, fame, and fortune do not equal happiness and recovery. Further, many men and women in their forties die everyday. Many probably die from alcohol or drugs. We can’t really blame the heroin, though it is gnarly and deadly, because we know that the drug is just a symptom of a deeper suffering, a deeper sadness, and an inability to cope with reality.

    Here’s what I know about happiness, the end of suffering, and recovery.

    First, it’s an inside job whereby we need to know ourselves. This takes many years of effort by talking, writing, and looking very deeply inside at who we are as people. It also involves a great deal of love and forgiveness towards ourselves and others. It may involve seeing our parents and ancestors as part of who we are today. This isn’t easy work and I’m sure that Mr. Hoffman did some this work over the years.

    Second, it takes daily effort and training my mind to touch the seeds of joy and happiness that exist within me and around me. For those involved in a 12-step program, they call this “a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of our “ spiritual” condition.” In my Buddhist practice it means that I can be fully present each moment of daily life. This can be accomplished with meditation, awareness of our breathing, stopping and seeing there are many conditions of happiness. Again, this isn’t necessarily easy work but the alternatives are pretty bleak.

    My practice today is about being present for myself and for others. In doing so I can stay alive and see my happiness and face my suffering. This means I have to be willing to stop and observe my feelings as they come and as they go; both the positive ones and the negative ones.

    I feel joy that I am alive, sober, and present for my family.
    I feel deep sadness for the partner and children of Mr. Hoffman.
    I feel anger that this continues to happen to people.
    I feel frustration that so many don’t understand the deep suffering of an addict.

    All these feelings co-exist within me and will eventually disappear. This is my practice?—?observing and taking care of the feelings. In fact, suffering is part of happiness and happiness is part of suffering. They are the mud and the lotus. The trick is to not let the suffering overwhelm us and bring us to despair.

    Third, walking through our suffering doesn’t need to be done alone. Having others in our life to support and guide us are key; teachers and mentors who can guide and support us. For those in a 12-step program, there are meetings and sponsors. In the Buddhist community it is called a sangha, a place of refuge that can offer joy and happiness to our practice and our journey on the path.

    We all have suffering. These three things – knowing ourselves, daily practice of cultivating joy, and being in community – can be applied to anyones life regardless of addiction/non-addiction, wealth/poverty, success/failure or fame/obscurity. No doubt Mr. Hoffman was able to practice some of these things but in the end we have his untimely death as he let despair win.

    Today I am taking a few moments to be grateful and to also send my energy of healing to the children of Mr. Hoffman. May the end of his suffering and his healing awaken within them.

    Originally posted on Medium and misc.joy

  • Shifting Weight

    Leave the tender moment alone.
    -Billy Joel.

    The way to use life is to do nothing through acting.
    The way to use life is to do everything through being.
    -Lao Tzu

    I had noticed her as I walked by the room on the way to see my patient. Jeans, sneakers and flannel shirt curled up on the bed cuddling against what I assume was her sick husband. Despite the tubes and lines, they made space to be near one another.

    After awhile, I was out by the nurses station waiting for my primary nurse when she came down the corridor slowly, in a daze. “Are you a doctor?” she asked me. “No, I’m a nursing student…” She looked at me and gazed away, “I don’t know how you all do this every day.” Her lower chin quivered and her eyes grew wet. Perhaps it was something about how ill he was, how hard it was, how overwhelming, unrelenting, and lonely she was. And by extension how hard it must be for us too. I mumbled something about it being different when the patient is not a family member or loved one. She stood there. Here eyes were dark pools in a face that was bearing the sinking that comes with suffering. I felt like putting my arm around her and comforting her, but I did not, aware of my boundaries. I did not know her needs or her situation. Still, she stood there. As often happens in a moment where ‘doing something’ competes with the ‘practice of being’, a response came to me out of the space of that moment. I tapped my shoulder and upper arm, “Here. Lean here”, and she accepted my invitation and leant her shoulder against me as I stood there unknowing. We stood there for a moment side by side. Whatever she carried shifted weight, and she breathed out a sigh and took a deep breath, and stood on her own. She nodded her head and said “thank you.”, and sniffled. “Maybe some Kleenex would help” and I looked around for some for her to blow her nose or wipe her eyes. “Surely this place must have some Kleenex”, I said. But there was none to be seen anywhere.

  • When Next I Spill My Tea

    The morning in June, 2002, that I was going to be ordained in the Order of Interbeing, I was doing walking meditation after breakfast. I was staying at Upper Hamlet of Plum Village, in France, where the ceremony was going to be held. Because people who were staying in the other hamlets had to travel, on foot from Lower Hamlet, and by bus from New Hamlet, to reach Upper Hamlet for the ceremony, I had quite a bit of time after breakfast and before the ceremony started. So I was doing walking meditation on a oval path in Upper Hamlet that goes around the lotus pond and by the dharma hall.

    As I walked, I reflected on how I came to be there at Plum Village to be ordained in the Order. As I reflected, I realized that I would not have found my way to SnowFlower and to Thay if it were not for my ex-wife. As some of you know, my relationship with my ex-wife, particularly since our divorce, has been difficult at best. But if it had not been for my divorce, and the suffering and loneliness that created, I would not have found my way to my local Sangha and started going to retreats with Thay and would not be walking there that morning. So even though I often thought of my marriage to my ex-wife as a horrible mistake, without that mistake I would not be having this blessing. (more…)