Heart of Understanding: Preface, Interbeing October 24, 2008
Posted by Alan in sangha.Tags: bodhisattva, Heart Sutra, interbeing, mindfulness bell, Thich Nhat Hanh
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This week we began reading The Heart of Understanding: Commentaries on the Prajnaparamita Heart Sutra, by Thich Nhat Hanh (Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1988). Laurie read the text of the sutra, and then together we read the preface by the book’s editor, Peter Levitt, and Thay’s first commentary, “Interbeing.”
Preface: The Heart Sutra is the essence of Buddhist teaching, recited daily in Buddhist communities throughout the world for the past 2,000 years. Levitt describes Thich Nhat Hanh’s efforts since 1987 to help Americans develop “the true face of ‘American Buddhism’.” He describes the activities of Thay’s retreats, including the invitation of the bell, a “bodhisattva” that “helps us to wake up” in the midst of performing our daily chores. Not only the bell, but anything that helps us wake up and relax into the present moment can be a bodhisattva. “Buddhism is a clever way to enjoy life.” We should read this book just like listening to a bell. When it rings, we can put the book down and listen to its sound echo within us.
“Interbeing:” Looking at the paper this book is printed on, we can see a cloud is essential for the paper to exist. The cloud brings rain; the rain helps the tree grow; we need the tree to make the paper. The cloud and the paper inter-are. The sunshine, the logger who cut down the tree, the wheat in the bread eaten by the logger, the logger’s mother and father: all these things are essential to the paper. When we look at the paper, it becomes part of our perception. Our minds are here in this paper. Everything, excluding nothing, co-exists in the paper. You cannot be alone; you have to inter-be with everything else. The paper is made up of non-paper elements; if you take any element away – the sunshine, the logger’s mother – the paper can no longer exist.
But the Heart Sutra seems to say the opposite: that all things are empty. What does this mean?
Realizing Ultimate Reality August 17, 2008
Posted by Alan in sangha.Tags: birth, bodhisattva, children, death, historical dimension, meditation, nirvana, suffering, Thich Nhat Hanh, ultimate dimension, water, wave
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Our dharma reading for this and last week was “Realizing Ultimate Reality” from Thich Nhat Hanh’s Touching Peace: Practicing the Art of Mindful Living, (Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1992, pp. 117-128). Here’s a summary.
Life has two dimensions: the historical dimension, which is like a wave, and the ultimate dimension, which is like the water beneath. Learning how to touch the water beneath the wave brings us the greatest fruit meditation offers. The historical dimension, the world of waves, is characterized by birth and death, ups and downs, being and non-being. Water, representing the ultimate dimension, does not have these characteristics. Touching it, we are liberated from these concepts.
As 2nd-century philospher Nagarjuna says, nothing can be born from nothing. There is no birth, no death; only continuation. “Instead of singing ‘Happy Birthday,’ we can sing ‘Happy Continuation.’” (p. 118) We are all continuations of our parents and ancestors, and our children continuations of us. We can give solace to others, and take solace ourselves, that we all pass on the good things we have learned, and that when our body departs, we will continue in many other forms.
Who can say that your mother has “passed away?” The notions of being and non-being, alive and dead, belong to the historical dimension. In the ultimate dimension, she is still with you. The same would be true of a flower or a leaf. They are playing hide-and-seek; we can touch them anytime we want. Perhaps this is their game, to teach us to practice peace and happiness. The Buddha said, “When conditions are sufficient, the body reveals itself, and we say the body is. When conditions are not sufficient, the body cannot be perceived by us, and we say the body is not.” (p. 120) If you know how to touch your mother in the ultimate dimension, you can see that she is in you, smiling.
Nirvana, the extinction of all notions and concepts, including birth and death, being and non-being, coming and going, is available right now when you breathe, walk, or drink your tea mindfully. “You have been ‘nirvanized’ since the very non-beginning.” (p. 121) We are capable of touching the ultimate dimension; we just need to learn how to do it more deeply and more frequently. “Thinking globally” is an example of touching the ultimate dimension.
Dwelling in the historical dimension, we will be tossed about on the waves of daily events: a bad day at work, waiting in a long line, a bad phone connection. But in the ultimate dimension, visualizing these events, say, a hundred years from now, they lose their significance entirely. We are capable of touching the ultimate dimension. Thay says that when he is aware of his feet on the ground in Plum Village, he is also aware that he is touching France, Russia, India, China, the whole Eurasian continent, the whole Earth. When practicing walking meditation, you see that you are touching the whole beautiful planet Earth with each step.
Touching the ultimate dimension gives us the deepest kind of relief, deeper than other practices. When you touch one thing or one moment with deep awareness, you touch all things in all the past and all the future. According to the Avatamsaka Sutra, “The one contains the all.” (p. 123) We suffer if we touch the waves (the historical dimension), but feel relief when we learn to stay in touch with the water (the ultimate dimension). Meditation helps us learn that the two, the waves and the water, the historical and ultimate dimensions, are one.
Thay tells of a dream in which he and his brother were in a marketplace where all the items represented events from his life or experiences of suffering. As he touched each, feelings of sorrow and compassion arose. Also on display were childhood notebooks containing accounts of many experiences which he had forgotten, or which he had dreamed, or which were from previous lives. Now, the man who had brought them to the marketplace, sounding like God or Destiny, told him, “You will have to go through all of this again!” He felt like he had experienced all this suffering, racial discrimination, ignorance, despair, sorrow, political oppression, war and death through many lifetimes already. Now that they had reached a place of space and freedom, did they have to go through it again? But he faced the man with determination and said, “I will do it thousands of times more if necessary. All of us will do it together!”
Upon awaking from the dream, he thought he had to die soon in order to begin the journey anew. But looking more deeply, he discovered the man represented the seed of fear or laziness arising from his own store consciousness. His first reaction had been in the historical dimension, but his second was in the ultimate dimension, of no birth and no death, and, feeling solidarity with the children everywhere, he became willing to undergo all the hardships with them countless times. He also saw that all of us are ready to join him, bringing along all our collective wisdom and freedom.
In addition to the historical dimension and the ultimate dimension, there is the action dimension of all the bodhisattvas practicing engaged Buddhism, helping in whatever ways they can to transform suffering and offer relief. All of us, Thay’s brothers and sisters, are those bodhisattvas riding the waves of birth and death, ready to join the children in facing the challenges before us.
Sangha Building July 28, 2008
Posted by Alan in sangha.Tags: ancestors, community, compassion, family, family traditions, hungry ghost, interbeing, meditation, mindfulness, pain, parenting, present moment, roots, sangha, sangha family, seeds of mindfulness, single parent, suffering, Thich Nhat Hanh
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The dharma reading for this week and last week was Chapter Nine, “Sangha Building,” from Thich Nhat Hanh’s Touching Peace: Practicing the Art of Mindful Living, pp. 99-115. Here’s a summary.
Thay says he sees people without roots as hungry ghosts. A “hungry ghost” is “a wandering soul who is extremely hungry and thirsty but whose throat is too narrow for food or drink to pass through.” (p. 99) A hungry ghost longs for love and beauty, but is unable to receive or touch them, turning instead, in their search for meaning, to alcohol, drugs, or sex.
The main sickness of our time is the production by society of millions of persons with no roots, no happiness at home, nothing to believe in or belong to. How can a person survive with nothing to believe in, with no energy to smile or touch beauty? Drugs are not the cause of these problems, so attempts to control drugs will have only limited success. Rather, we need to rebuild the foundations of our communities to offer people something to believe in. Science, Marxism, even the God President Bush invoked against Iraq, are all too small. Many people are turned off by others who claim to represent traditions the deepest values of which they have not experienced for themselves.
Mindfulness, on the other hand, the awareness of what is going on in the present moment, is something we can believe in. Mindfulness is not an abstraction. When we drink a glass of water, when we sit, walk, stand or breathe, we know we are drinking a glass of water, sitting, walking, standing or breathing. Mindfulness is the living buddha inside us, “giving birth to insight, awakening, compassion, and love.” All people, not just Buddhists, have these seeds of mindfulness in them, and watering these seeds can restore families.
The “five powers” taught by the Buddha are faith, energy, mindfulness, and understanding. Faith brings about energy, and a good friend can inspire faith. (p. 102) We must put our trust in what is stable; “I take refuge in the sangha” means I trust a stable community. Friends in sangha are the most essential element of the practice.
Looking deeply, we discover that what we call our “self” is made entirely of non-self bits from society, nature, ancestors, and those we love. We may resist acknowledging roots that have made us suffer, but when we connect with them, our pain begins to melt away. We see our place in the continuation from our ancestors to future generations. Rather than throw away our traditions, we must find the best elements among them, living in a way that allows joy, peace, and liberation for our ancestors, ourselves, our children, and their children.
For those abused, beaten, rejected, or severely criticized by their parents, the meditation on the five-year-old child may be helpful. “Breathing in, I see myself as a five-year-old child. Breathing out, I smile at the five-year-old child in me.” You can acknowledge your vulnerability and the pain you received as a child. Next you can visualize your parent as a five-year-old child, acknowledging his or her vulnerability, even though he or she may have been very different later as a parent, possibly victims of their own ancestors. A parent who suffered much at the hands of his own parents may not have learned how to treat his own child well. In this way, the suffering, the circle of samsara, continues. With compassionate and mindful practice, your anger may dissolve, allowing you to smile and hug your parent, saying, “I understand you, Dad [or Mom]. You suffered very much during your childhood.” (p. 105)
Meditation helps us discover the value of our families’ traditions. Divisions between people based on religious traditions have added much to suffering over the centuries. This should not occur; any insight gained into interbeing, regardless of the religious tradition, is true meditation. We cannot ask hungry ghosts to go back to their own roots; they cannot absorb any nourishment there. We must offer them a new environment where they can take root. The sangha can be modeled after the family, with dharma brothers, dharma sisters, dharma aunts, uncles, mothers and fathers. In Plum Village, Thay is “Grandpa Teacher.” The sangha family offers a new opportunity to get rooted.
Intimate, deep relationships, first with one person, then with another, and gradually with others, bring peace and harmony to everyone in the sangha. A deep desire of Thay’s is that communities organized like large families, with all the brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents, not like isolated, non-communicative islands, will help people succeed in their practice. The small nuclear family is not such a good model: there is not enough air to breathe, nowhere to escape to. Seeds of suffering are too easily transmitted when the family is too constrictive. The large traditional family provides many avenues for help.
The single parent need not think he or she must remarry; he or she may be more stable without a partner. You can transform yourself into a hermitage with air, light, and order inside, a peaceful and joyful refuge for your child and friends, your dharma brothers and sisters in the practice community. Return to your hermitage and arrange things within, opening the windows to let healthy elements in, closing the windows to keep unhealthy elements out. The single parent can learn to be both father and mother, both disciplinarian and nurturer, and can succeed with the help of friends and the community. Other adults in the sangha can serve as aunts and uncles for the child. And the practice center will benefit from the presence of children. “Children are jewels who can help the practice. If the children are happy, all the parents and non-parents will enjoy the practice.” (p. 111)
Practicing together can bring real transformation, in a good sangha where people are happy and communication is open. Time, energy, and concentration are required to build a sangha; “we have to take care of each person, staying aware of his pain, her difficulties, his aspirations, her fears and hopes.” Each of us needs this. Without a sangha, burn-out will come quickly. (p.112)
To build a sangha, find one person to join in your practice. Eventually others will join, and the sangha will include “the trees, the birds, the meditation cushion, the bell, and even the air you breathe.” The sangha where all practice deeply together is a gem. Organize in a way that is enjoyable for everyone. It will never be perfect, but imperfect is good enough. When you practice together mindfully, resisting the speed, violence, and unwholesome ways of society, you are a sangha. Substance is most important; forms, such as those of churches or other religious traditions, can be adapted. Just do everything in mindfulness. The value will be evident, not in what you say, “but through your being.”
Love in Action July 6, 2008
Posted by Alan in sangha.Tags: anger, awakening, bodhisattva, consciousness, George H.W. Bush, Iraq, peace, suffering, Thich Nhat Hanh, violence, war
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This week’s dharma reading was Chapter Seven, “Love in Action,” from Thich Nhat Hanh’s Touching Peace: Practicing the Art of Mindful Living, pp. 73-79. Here’s a summary:
We are all bodhisattvas, aware of what is happening and trying to help others wake up. But we are not perfect, of course. Whatever we are feeling, be it peace and joy or anger and hatred, vibrates throughout the cosmos. A bodhisattva angry at another bodhisattva sets up obstacles everywhere in the universe.
The first war in Iraq, ordered by President George H.W. Bush, caused suffering among many people in many places. Thich Nhat Hanh himself nearly canceled his planned trip to the U.S., but later relented and decided to go, realizing Americans working for peace needed his support and his sharing in their suffering. He understood that bodhisattvas and leaders like George H.W. Bush need help and understanding, expressed in language of love and intelligence; anger will not help. When ordering the ground attack, President Bush said, “God bless the United States of America,” but we must tell him, without anger, that God cannot bless one country against another. Simply electing another president will not transform the situation. We can only transform greed and violence in ourselves and our society by changing our own consciousness and our own way of life.
The soldiers in America and other countries and in Iraq could only do what they did by plunging their bayonets into sandbags, practicing killing during the day, and even in their dreams at night. Only in this manner could they become inhuman, learning to kill, practicing fear and violence, in order to survive. The war came, the killing was massive, and we called it a victory. The troops that returned were deeply wounded from practicing violence both in reality and in their consciousness. Generations following them would receive their seeds of violence and suffering. Their wounds will be with us for a long time. How can we call this a victory?
From war, young people learn to see violence as a way to solve problems, making it easier to support the next war. To protect life, we have to see the reality, the true nature of war. Otherwise we will not be ready. Simply protesting the next war when it begins is not enough; that’s too late. We must practice peace now. If we establish peace in our hearts, war will not come.
Those who have experienced a war directly have a duty to communicate the reality of it to those who have not. “We are the light at the tip of the candle. It is very hot, but it has the power of shining and illuminating.” We can “wake people up,” so that we can “avoid repeating the same horrors again and again. The war is in us, but it is also in everyone.” Thich Nhat Hanh uses the example of Rodney King. Watching that incident, we were all beaten. But looking more deeply, we were also the policemen doing the beating. “They were manifesting the hatred and violence that pervades our society.” We are all co-responsible. We all suffer. We accept violence as a way of life, watering the seeds of violence, even by watching violent TV programs and movies. We must transform this violence, or it will be our own child beaten or doing the beating.
Take your little boy or little girl by the hand, away from TV, Nintendo, and war toys, for a slow walk in the park. Sit together, and look closely at the tiny yellow and blue flowers among the blades of grass. Contemplate these miracles together.
Peace Treaty June 29, 2008
Posted by Alan in sangha.Tags: anger, mindfulness, peace, peace note, peace treaty, Plum Village, refuge, relationships, sangha, suffering, Thich Nhat Hanh
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Today’s dharma reading was Chapter Six, “Peace Treaty,” from Thich Nhat Hanh’s Touching Peace: Practicing the Art of Mindful Living, pp. 61-71. Here’s a summary.
The first three pages of the chapter consist of the text of a treaty the monks and nuns at Plum Village have drafted to help re-establish peace between persons whose relationship has been interrupted by anger. The treaty opens with “In Order That We May Live Long and Happily Together, In Order That We May Continually Develop and Deepen Our Love and Understanding, We the Undersigned, Vow to Observe and Practice the Following…” It then contains two sections: first, for the one who is angry, and second, for the one who has made the other angry, each with a number of resolutions to observe. It closes with “We Vow, with Lord Buddha as Witness and the Mindful Presence of the Sangha, to Abide by These Articles and to Practice Wholeheartedly. We Invoke the Three Gems for Protection and to Grant Us Clarity and Confidence,” followed by space for the parties’ signatures. The remainder of the chapter consists of commentary on each of the resolutions.
For the angry person, the articles are to:
- refrain from saying or doing anything to further escalate the situation;
- not suppress the anger, but wait a certain period of time before expressing it;
- practice breathing and take refuge in one’s island;
- calmly tell the offender within 24 hours, verbally or by Peace Note, of the anger;
- ask for an appointment to “look deeply into the matter” together, verbally or by Peace Note;
- not to pretend, out of pride or avoidance, not to be angry (We are brothers and sisters; “my pain must be his pain. My suffering must be his suffering.”);
- during activities of daily life, look deeply into the various causes of the anger. Among these is recognition that the other person suffers, and that he or she cannot really “cause” the anger. Only when that other person “overcomes his suffering will happiness in the community be authentic;”
- apologize immediately upon realizing one’s own unskillfulness and lack of mindfulness;
- postpone the appointment, if one is still not calm enough to discuss the matter.
The articles for the person who has made the other angry are to:
- respect the angry person’s feelings without being dismissive;
- not press for immediate discussion;
- confirm the appontment, verbally or by note;
- practice breathing and take refuge in one’s island, recognizing that making another suffer does not relieve one’s own suffering, but in fact increases it;
- apologize immediately upon realizing one’s own unskillfulness and lack of mindfulness, without attempting to justify oneself.
The Peace Treaty is a mindfulness practice. It should not be signed unless one is mindfully committed. When mindfully signed, not only the two partners, but all others as well will benefit. “Be harmonious and happy!”
The Happiness of One Person June 24, 2008
Posted by Alan in sangha.Tags: marriage, mindful hugging, mindfulness, relationships, seeds of happiness, seeds of suffering, Thich Nhat Hanh
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The dharma reading for last week and this week was Chapter 5, “The Happiness of One Person,” of Thich Nhat Hanh’s Touching Peace: Practicing the Art of Mindful Living. A summary follows.
To prepare a person for living with another, Thay proposes an Institute for the Happiness of One Person, a one-year program with one course, “Looking Deeply.” The student would discover all the flowers and compost in himself, both his own and that from his ancestors and society. At the end of the course, he or she would receive a diploma saying he or she is qualified to marry.
Upon entering a new relationship we are very excited and enthusiastic, but before long our illusions disappear and we discover the reality. For example, if our partner says something unkind and we become irritated, a knot will form in us. With mindfulness, we can learn the skill of recognizing and untying these knots before they become too tight or strong. Otherwise, we may bury our feelings and deny their existence, but they will always resurface. Learning this and other communication skills is important, so we don’t plant seeds of suffering in those we love.
Practicing mindful living together – easiest if done from the start of the relationship – we can grow flowers rather than bring in more garbage. How much water does our flower need? How much sunshine? If we look into ourselves to discover our true nature or “suchness,” we can learn the answers to these questions. Everything has its suchness; that’s how we recognize an orange as an orange, not as a lemon. It’s how we are able to cook safely with propane gas. Thay illustrates suchness with a story about a man who thinks he is a kernel of corn – he is unable to discover his own suchness. To meditate is to look deeply into the nature of things: a person’s difficulties, aspirations, sufferings and anxieties – his or her suchness.
Loving speech and deep listening are important aspects of this practice. We must congratulate and express appreciation for things a person does well, not taking them for granted. This is the way to water the seeds of happiness. We should not say destructive or discouraging things. If we cannot remain calm, we should refrain from speaking. Just breathe.
Everyone, even in a marriage, changes and grows. You need to promise to change and grow together. You can never know everything about one human being.
The monks and nuns at Plum Village practice Beginning Anew every week. This could also be practiced at the Institute for the Happiness of One Person. Beginnng Anew has three stages:
- flower watering: a speaker acknowledges the wholesome, wonderful qualities of the others
- expressing regrets for things we have done to hurt others
- expressing hurts and difficulties, ways in which others have hurt us
Compassionate listening, with the willingness to relieve the suffering of others without judging or arguing, is crucial. The goal is to heal the community, not harm it. The ceremony is ended with a song, or holding hands and breathing, or with hugging meditation.
Thay describes his invention of hugging meditation. He emphasizes that the hug must be real, done with all body, spirit and heart, not a gesture performed for appearances.
Next, he discusses the importance of understanding in love. Without understanding, love will only cause the other person to suffer. He illustrates love without understanding by describing his own aversion to the smell of the durian fruit, very popular in Southeast Asia. If someone were to require him to eat durian as an expression of love, he would suffer. Understanding means “to see the depth of the darkness, the pain, and the suffering of the other person.” You can make your partner unhappy, even with good will.
“Living together is an art…Art is the essence of life…The substance of art is mindfulness.” We don’t have to wait for the opening of the Institute for the Happiness of One Person. “You can begin practicing right away.”
Dharma Nectar June 8, 2008
Posted by Alan in sangha.Tags: Buddha, five mindfulness trainings, five precepts, suffering, Thich Nhat Hanh
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Today’s dharma reading was Chapter 23: “Dharma Nectar,” from Thich Nhat Hanh’s Old Path White Clouds: Walking in the Footsteps of the Buddha (Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1991), 151-156. Here’s a summary:
One morning while meditating alone in the forest, the Buddha encountered a handsome young man, Yasa, son of a wealthy Varanasi merchant. Yasa’s parents had always provided him with all manner of pleasures and everything he could want, but the sensitive and thoughtful Yasa no longer found contentment in this life and wished for a new life of fresh air and simplicity. He left his home and after a night of aimless wandering now found himself facing the Buddha.
After hearing Yasa’s story, the Buddha explained to him that although life is indeed filled with suffering, by living simply without being ruled by our desires, the trees, the morning mists, the moon, stars, rivers, mountains, sunlight and sounds of birds and bubbling springs indicate a universe that can provide us with endless happiness. Forgetting these wonders, people come to despise their minds and bodies and see only the suffering. “But suffering is not the true nature of the universe. Suffering is the result of the way we live and of our erroneous understanding of life.” (152)
Deeply touched, Yasa asked the Buddha to accept him as his disciple. The Buddha described to Yasa the difficulties of a monk’s life, and the monk’s commitment to “devote his mind and body to realize liberation in order to help himself and all others,” concentrating “his efforts to help relieve suffering.” Yasa agreed to these vows, and the Buddha accepted him as a disciple.
Shortly afterward, Yasa’s father came looking for him. The Buddha explained to him what had happened, and that it was possible to reduce pain and anxiety and create peace and joy for oneself and all others. Yasa’s father took great relief in the Buddha’s words, and took the vow to become a lay disciple. Then he invited the Buddha and all the disciples to come home with him to ease Yasa’s mother’s worries, and to provide instruction in the Path of Awakening.
The next day the Buddha and the six bhikkhus (disciples) ate at the home of Yasa’s parents, served by Yasa’s mother herself. The Buddha then taught them the five precepts, the foundation for the practice of lay disciples:
- First precept: do not kill…
- Second precept: do not steal…
- Third precept: do not engage in sexual misconduct…
- Fourth precept: do not say untruthful things…
- Fifth precept: do not use alcohol or other stimulants…
As Yasa’s mother listened, “she felt as though a gate of happiness had just opened in her heart.” (156) She knelt before the Buddha, and was also accepted as a lay disciple.
Following the reading of “Dharma Nectar,” the Sangha read the Five Mindfulness Trainings (the five precepts) as written in For A Future to be Possible (Thich Nhat Hanh, Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1991), and discussed some of their experiences of the Trainings in their daily practices.
We Have Arrived May 19, 2008
Posted by Alan in sangha.Tags: ancestors, bodhisattva, Buddha, happiness, interbeing, Mara, present moment, Thich Nhat Hanh, walking meditation
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Today’s dharma reading was chapter four from Thich Nhat Hanh’s Touching Peace. Here’s a summary. Please share any thoughts.
Thich Nhat Hanh relates a story about a friend who helped him organize a visit to India. He describes the friend’s discomfort and inability to relax due to the discrimination he has endured throughout his life as a member of India’s lowest social caste. We all struggle in a similar manner, forgetting that “we have arrived;” conditions for our happiness are already here in the present moment, not waiting for us sometime in the future.
The practice of stopping now and looking deeply halts the habit energy of the negative seeds we have inherited from our ancestors and our society, liberating both ancestors and future generations. This is the teaching of interbeing. If we do not liberate our ancestors, we remain in bondage and we will transmit that to our children and grandchildren. Touching the earth, stepping mindfully, we all arrive and find peace at the same moment.
Thay includes several other images to illustrate interbeing: a meeting between Sudhana and Mahamaya, the mother of the Buddha, sitting on lotus flowers of hundreds of millions of petals; millions of Diamond Matrix bodhisattvas giving exactly the same discourse at the same time all over the universe; all of us taking care of the baby inside us, thus taking care of everything. “The moon is in me. My beloved is in me. Those who make me suffer are also in me…there is no hatred or blaming…No one is afraid to die, because dying means being born as something else at the same time.”
Thay goes on to describe the appearances of Mara – anger, darkness, jealousy, craving, despair; skepticism; worldly ambition – to the Buddha. Siddhartha greets Mara with quiet gentleness, touching the Earth, calling on the Earth to testify for him. The Earth trembles and appears as a goddess, offering flowers, fruits, perfumes. Mara just disappears. Similarly, when we recognize Mara, and respond by touching the Earth and walking upon the Earth mindfully and joyfully, Mara goes away. Earth is our nourishment, our refuge, our healer.
Thay continues with a full description of walking meditation. He then concludes by telling us we need not struggle, nor hurry. When we smile, countless bodhisattvas smile with us, and our peace affects our ancestors and all future generations. “Peace is every step. We have already arrived.” (Touching Peace, 35-45)
Transforming Our Compost May 11, 2008
Posted by Alan in sangha.Tags: healing, meditation, mindfulness, suffering, Thich Nhat Hanh
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Here’s a summary of today’s dharma reading from Thich Nhat Hanh’s Touching Peace. Please share any thoughts.
Deep within us are both flowers and garbage. Like a gardener with compost, we can learn how to use meditation to transform anger, fear, and despair into love and understanding.
Everything we’ve experienced or perceived is stored in us, like videos in the basement. We relive our negative experiences over and over as the videos repeatedly invade our living rooms and pop themselves into our video players.
Positive and negative experiences are also like seeds, filling our internal storehouses. The quality of our life depends on the quality of our seeds, and we choose which seeds to water and care for. We can heal anger and despair in us by watering the seeds of joy and peace, by touching what is beautiful and wholesome. We let ourselves be healed by the trees and birds, by the moon, by children; otherwise we perpetuate our suffering.
Mindfulness is the seed of understanding, care, compassion, liberation and healing. It keeps us aware of what is happening now, in the present moment. If we water this seed frequently, we remember that we have healthy eyes, heart and liver, and a non-toothache; we remember that happiness is already in us and around us. After watering the seed of mindfulness for some time, we can invite the videos of fear and despair up from the basement and greet them with a smile. As our pain is repeatedly immersed in mindfulness, it will gradually lose its strength. Meditation and mindful living help us know how to water the seeds of joy, transforming the seeds of suffering, so that compassion and lovingkindness may flower. (Touching Peace, 23-33)
