Thay’s Continuation

Memorial banner at Deer Park Monastery

Our beloved teacher, Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh (affectionately known as Thay by his students, which means “teacher” in Vietnamese), has died. At 95, he passed away at his root temple in Hue, Vietnam on January 22nd, 2022 (which was Jan 21st for those of living here in the U.S).

I feel very fortunate to be currently residing for a few months here at Deer Park Monastery, our tradition’s practice center located in southern California. Since his death, we have entered a 7-day retreat here at Deer Park, to honor, mourn, and commemorate our dear teacher.

With deep gratitude for my teacher; for being his continuation; for being a practitioner on the path of practice, please allow me to share some of the poems I’ve written this past week in his honor, along with a few pictures I’ve taken here at Deer Park:

95-years and now you are
extinguished. My beloved
teacher, I will miss you.

Beside my sorrow is also
my joy for being your
continuation.

My feet are your feet.
My smile is your smile.

Though you are gone
we can never be
apart.
_________

Yes, impermanence,
it is easy to see you
in autumn, when
summer is bending
to the breath of winter.

It is easy to see you
in a flower once bright
and beaming now
wilting and sour.

It is easy to grant
you permission to
raise an infant into
a child.

But oh how our
allowance does
not extend beyond
the veil of this body;
our own mind.
_______

Handling Our Pain

If we do not know how to care well for our pain when it arises, not only will that pain lead to suffering that we are then likely to carry around for a long long time, but we will also not be able to understand how to fully appreciate, enjoy & let in the bounty of good. 

We cannot dice up life and run away only from that which is unpleasant and uncomfortable. When we turn and run, we leave it all behind. 

How To Care Well For Our Pain

• Allow your pain to be as it is, without trying to force it away or cover it up or ignore it
• Feel your way into it; ask your pain Q’s; listen to what it is trying to convey
• Turn in the direction of it and move towards it, one slow step at a time
• Find creative outlets for expressing it (art, music, writing, woodworking…)
• Utilize your tribe; know who & who not to go to (not all friends are skilled at holding space during difficult times)
• Try to unwind yourself from either/or thinking and embrace instead both/and thinking (ex: look deeply to see that yes you have pain arising and things are hard right now and yes you also have conditions for wellness too, both things can – and usually do – exist simultaneously)
• Sometimes: eat the whole bag of chips
• Do walking meditation and allow your pain to accompany you
• When it’s too big or too much or too ____, do not force or pressure yourself to sit with it on the cushion
• Engage in a movement/body centered practice or healing modality
• Befriend yourself through the process; turn yourself into your own ally
• Be aware of (and try to avoid) the impulse to wrap your pain up in a pretty little bow 

On Retreat

And so it is that I find myself in reflection mode, as we near the end of our 90-day Rains Retreat here at Deer Park Monastery, in the Great Hidden Mountain. My husband Mike and I arrived in mid-October, me on crutches, still in high mending mode from ankle surgery at the end of August, and both of us fresh from having just sold our house of 18-years literally an hour before taking to the road to head here.

One week from today, our ceremony to close the 90-day retreat will take place, after which, a vast majority of the lay people on site will depart. Mike and I, however, will be staying on through March. Our current Rains Retreat has had the largest number of lay folks in attendance who are here for the full duration of the 90-days: around 25 of us here in Solidity Hamlet, with an additional 10-12 in Clarity Hamlet. A stark contrast from our last 90-day retreat here during last year’s covid closure, when we were 2 of a total of 6 lay people.

Years ago, I attended retreats with what I regard as a sort of trademark Westerner’s approach. A vigor of determination laced with “I’m so gonna figure everything out and transform all of my inner compost into flowers!” Now that youthful exuberance has eased itself into middle age, and I have the benefit of experiencing the fruits of 20-years of practicing in this mindfulness tradition, I am thoroughly enjoying a much more leisurely approach. I no longer go on retreat to figure something out or in an attempt to fix something I deem in disrepair. I don’t go on retreat to obtain grand insights or transcend the everyday world. Nor do I come here to escape: the world; my life; or our Montana winter. I go on retreat to rest, renew, recharge, reconnect – all of it in order to return. I come here to Deer Park in order to have the practice be my full time occupation. And to especially nourish the seed and quality of concentration.

Turning Over a New Leaf

In recognition and honor of the ending of one year and the starting of a new one, I penned down this self-reflective list in my journal a few mornings ago:

10 Rememberings To Carry Into 2022

1. Self-care is not selfish; it is one of the most altruistic acts I can engage in. 
2. Comparison is the thief of joy. – Theodore Roosevelt
3. Time is precious & life is short. An abundance of time is not guaranteed. 
4. Everything & everyone (including myself) are of the nature to change. 
5. There is no such thing as an insignificant moment. 
6. Gratitude, joy & ease are superpowers to harness, strengthen & invest in.
7. Personal growth, transformation & healing never happen inside my comfort zone.
8. I am perfect as I am and I could use some improvement. – Suzuki Roshi
9. My actions are my only true belongings. They are the ground on which I stand. 
10. Everything takes practice. What I water is what grows. I am the farmer of my own field. 

These are the 10 rememberings that speak to me. I encourage others to come up with a list that speaks to you (though of course feel free to use mine if you like!). It might be worth writing or printing the list out and posting it on the fridge, or some other place you are likely to see it, too. 

Switching (sort of). 

Every January, instead of crafting new year’s resolutions, which I’ve never been a big fan of, I come up with 1 or 2 new practices that I can do throughout the year to help me to foster and strengthen such qualities as: mindfulness; gratitude; patience; self-awareness; self-care; kindness. Then, at the end of the calendar year, I discontinue the 1 or 2 practices and pick up 1 or 2 new ones.