Still Mind, Peaceful Heart Retreat

mb45-Still1From August 13 to 18, 2006, over eighty lay people from all over North America attended the first large retreat outside a monastery in which our teacher Thich Nhat Hanh was not physically present. Eighteen monks and nuns from Deer Park, Green Mountain, and Maple Forest monasteries came to the beautiful YMCA conference center in Estes Park, Colorado. Situated on the edge of Rocky Mountain National Park, the location is magnificent and a favorite for Thay and the monastics.

The monastic contingent was led by the incomparable Thay Phap Dung, abbot of Deer Park. Happy to be reunited with distant brothers and sisters, the monastics manifested a bubbling happiness that spread to all the retreatants. Their playful joy did not dampen the depth of their wisdom, as we experienced during the question and answer session (see page 18).

For the first time the sangha went on a long mindful walk into the high country, led by the intrepid Thay Phap Luu (Brother Stream), taking most of a day to hike, picnic, and even — for the daring ones — dip in a refreshing pool. The tea ceremony on the last evening filled us with laughter and delights, such as the song “YMCA” with surprising new words, written and performed by one of the “families.” (see page 21).

As a gift for Thay, the monks and nuns created a video of the retreat. You may see it at www.deerparkmonastery. org/dharma_talks/video/stillmind_documentary.html.

We can only hope to enjoy many more such retreats in the future.

—Janelle Combelic,
True Lotus Meditation,
Longmont, Colorado

PDF of this article

Letter From the Editor

mb46-Editor1Dear Thay, dear Sangha,

We sit on the dew-covered grass, watching the light of dawn reveal the towering mountains all around us. Thay sits like a rock, like a tree, like a Buddha, in front of several hundred sleepy retreatants. It is six a.m. on the first day of the retreat at the YMCA of the Rockies in Estes Park, Colorado.

After a while Thay invites the little bell and we rise to walk as one to the meditation hall. In the half-light our mass of peaceful mindful people lumbers up the hill. That’s when I see for an instant through the present moment into a potential future. I see not a few hundred people but thousands, millions, walking in silence. I see people descending into the streets of towns and cities all over the world, walking together, and with our breathing bodies, with our hearts joined in love, saying no — no to war, to injustice, to poverty and exploitation — no to the powers that be.

I remember Princess Diana’s funeral, when over a million people lined the streets of London standing for hours in silence, united in their grief and their love. Even more amazing, all major U.S. television channels broadcast her funeral live, one of them broadcasting the silence as well as the images. Around the world as many as 2.5 billion people watched at the same time. So imagine, imagine what power we have — to say yes to life, to love, to paradise here on earth.

In his Dharma talks at the retreat Thay reminded us that we are all cells in one body, part of a single organism. I have heard Thay say that the next Buddha to be born will be a collective. This is what I see awakening all over the planet: the Cosmic Christ, the long-awaited Messiah, the Buddha to be. It is happening now. (Read magazines like Yes!, Ode, and Utne Reader for positive developments worldwide.)

Thay’s own happiness is his best teaching — after all he has seen and suffered and accomplished in this life, he radiates peace and joy. When he says that there is no birth and no death, that our only continuation is our actions, he is the living proof.

Thay’s joy — and that of the ninety monastics traveling with him on the U.S. tour — touched the nearly one thousand lay people at the retreat. We sang, laughed, sat, cried, walked, ate, talked mindfully together for six glorious days in the majestic Rocky Mountains.

And we shared the Mindfulness Bell — a joint creation of monks, nuns, and lay people. After one of the Dharma talks, four of us, including Sister Chan Khong, made a presentation about the Mindfulness Bell to the sangha. I was thrilled at the response from the retreatants. We sold every single magazine we had and collected many subscriptions and donations. From the bottom of my heart, thank you to all!

As Sister Chan Khong said, when you support the Mindfulness Bell you are doing more than just purchasing a magazine, which hopefully inspires you. You are helping Thay to spread the Dharma and build sangha around the world. Consider renewing your subscription for two or three or even fi years. And don’t forget that subscriptions make wonderful holiday gifts!

May our sangha flow like a river, each step in power and beauty. May the turning of the seasons and the year bring peace into all aspects of your life. Breathe on!

mb46-Editor2

PDF of this article

On Love and Being Gay

By Laurie Arron

mb48-OnLove1

“I believe that we all have the need to love and to be loved, and life without love is not pleasant, it is suffering.”
Thich Nhat Hanh, Friday, July 13, 2007, Lower Hamlet

These are the words Thay spoke to me during the first Question and Answer session of the summer retreat at Plum Village. I had asked about finding love and had clearly stated I was gay. Thay’s answer was all about true love, and it demonstrated to me that he believes true love is possible regardless of sexual orientation.

Although I’ve accepted being gay, there’s still a voice in my head saying there’s something wrong with me. I’m forty-five now, I’ve been single for over four years, and I don’t know if I’ll ever find true love — or be able to let go of my grasping for it.

Years of Silent Suffering

Sometimes the memories of being a gay teen cause tears to well up inside me. I know that I have a long way to go in healing my suffering.

I first realized I was gay when I was thirteen years old. It was a terrible and frightening realization. At school, a “fag” was the worst thing you could call someone. It’s what we called the kids we didn’t like, the ones who didn’t fit in. I’d used it many times. How could I possibly be one of them?

But the fact was that I had a strong physical attraction to some of the boys in my class and none whatsoever towards the girls. My grim realization was indisputable.

I could not deny my sexual orientation, but I could keep it an absolute secret. I thought being gay was unnatural and I desperately wished I could be “cured.” I was convinced if anyone knew they would hate me, except my parents who would simply be devastated. I thought it would be better to be blind or in a wheelchair. At least then people wouldn’t hate me.

I hid my sexual orientation from everyone until I was twenty-seven years old. Being “in the closet” was very difficult, and I turned to smoking marijuana to ease the pain and escape my reality. I did fine in school and work, but whenever I thought about having to live life without love I was consumed with despair. It wasn’t until a close friend of mine (who wasn’t gay) killed himself that I realized life was too short to waste. I decided to take a leap of faith and stop hiding who and what I really was.

I went to a “coming out” support group and there I finally started to accept my sexual orientation. At the group they did things like turn on their head the questions gay people often get asked. They pointed to the absurdity of asking questions like “when did you first realize you were heterosexual?”, “what do you think your parents may have done to contribute to your heterosexuality?” and “what made you choose to be heterosexual?”

I’ve come a long way since then. I got involved in working for equality for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) people when I was thirty-one and eventually became Director of Advocacy for Canada’s national LGBT equality advocacy group. In 2005, Canada’s federal government debated and passed a law extending civil marriage to include same-gender couples. I did many media interviews and was about as publicly “out” as you can be.

But even being so comfortable with being gay, in public places I still had to ask myself whether it was safe enough to hold my partner’s hand or give him a kiss when I greeted him at the airport after not seeing him for several weeks. These are simple acts that most people take for granted, but for gay and lesbian people they are not so simple. And that’s in Canada, one of the most accepting and progressive countries in the world. In many countries, being gay is still criminal, sometimes even punishable by death.

I look back and sometimes it feels like my youth was stolen from me. While my friends learned to date and to be in relationships when they were teenagers, I started from scratch at age twenty-seven. The whole possibility of young love was already gone.

I find it particularly hard not to regret those lost years and wish I’d had more courage and come out earlier. My equality advocacy has been driven by my desire to make the world a better place for LGBT youth, so they don’t have to go through what I did.

The most difficult thing about the suffering I experienced was not being able to tell anyone. I suffered alone and in silence, with absolutely no support. I think about how wonderful it is to have a Sangha for support. Looking back on my years in the closet I realize that it was the exact opposite. The fact of not being able to tell anyone magnified my suffering a thousand times.

The Question of Marriage

A big source of suffering for LGBT people is the exclusion from marriage. It’s often said that love and marriage go together, but for same-gender couples this is usually not permitted. Only the Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, Canada, and South Africa have equal marriage. The Commonwealth of Massachusetts permits same-gender couples to marry but our marriages are not recognized by the federal government. Israel also recognizes our marriages, but they must be performed in another country.

Marriage is about many things, including love, commitment, intimacy, companionship, emotional support, financial support, children, and fidelity.

Some people argue that marriage is essentially about procreation, but many opposite-gender couples don’t have children and many same-gender couples do. According to the Canadian Psychological Association, studies show that children of same-gender couples do just as well as other children and are no more likely to be gay or lesbian themselves.

Simply put, marriage is the central and most prominent way in which society recognizes romantic love and commitment. Since being gay is defined by who you love, the exclusion or inclusion in marriage sends a powerful signal about our place in society.

Exclusion says our love is inferior to the love between a man and a woman. This message does us great harm, both in affirming anti-gay attitudes and also in telling LGBT people that there’s something wrong with us. Inclusion in marriage sends the message that we are not flawed because of our sexual orientation. It says that we are equally worthy of respect and consideration.

This is especially important for LGBT youth. This poignant letter to the editor was written when equal marriage legislation was before Canada’s Parliament:

“I wonder if those fighting so hard against same-sex marriage ever consider how much it means to gays. They don’t know what it’s like to be a teenager — when the pressure to conform is so great — and you experience the horror of realizing that you are gay. They can’t understand what it’s like to listen to your friends talk about how they hate queers and how they wish they were dead. You consider suicide, because you never want anyone to find out the truth about yourself; your shame is too great to bear.

“And these people can’t understand the hope that filled my soul when I first found out that Canada was considering allowing same-sex marriage. This legislation goes so far beyond marriage. It is a symbol. It represents the hopes and dreams of gays for a better world. Now that I’m 18, I can finally admit to myself that I am gay and no longer feel the shame that almost drew me to suicide. At least now I have hope.”

The Desire for True Love

My deepest aspiration is to understand my suffering and to transform it. At Plum Village Thay Phap An told me that most of us spend much of our time struggling with one particular issue, one that is based on a misperception of reality. This misperception acts like a prism, distorting how we see the world and causing us to suffer. Covering up this misperception is a block of pain that has been built up over the years.

My block of pain seems to revolve around my desire to find true love and my belief that I won’t, perhaps because there is something wrong with me, or perhaps because I am simply fated to be alone.

I have had many insights about the source of my suffering, usually when I cry during sitting meditation. This has happened many times when I recall a feeling from the past, such as the sadness and despair when my partner left me, or the fear that I will never find another. And then another thought will manifest, perhaps from a different time in my life, and I know that there is a connection between the two.

Slowly, slowly, I am chipping away at the block of pain that exists deep inside me. I still have a long way to go to get through the block of pain, and to see and penetrate the misperception that lies beneath it. I don’t know if I will ever get there, but I know I am on the path, and I have faith in that path. The more diligent my practice, the happier I am.

For example, sometimes I despair. But I identify it as despair, or perhaps a mix of despair, sadness and grasping, or whatever feelings I can identify. I observe my in-breath and out-breath. I remind myself that this is just a feeling, and that feelings come and go.

For much of my life I learned to suppress my feelings and to cut myself off from my body. But that did not end my suffering. If anything, it made the suffering worse and prevented me from taking positive action. My practice is helping me to re-connect with my body and to become whole again.

Feelings are not only in my mind, but also in my body. I find the feeling in my body and I describe it to myself. Perhaps the feeling is a tension between my shoulder blades, or tension from my neck extending outwards to each arm. I observe that this is how despair is manifesting in my body. When I release the tension in my body, the feeling also dissipates. Sometimes this happens quickly, sometimes it takes a long time. Sometimes I don’t have time to wait because I’m too busy at work and I just live with the tension until later.

Underneath despair I find joy. I have experienced this hidden joy many times. Sometimes I can even find joy without having to go through despair. If I just look around my body, I can almost always find somewhere that’s experiencing joy.

Smiling Through Tears

I have also observed that I need my Sangha to support my practice. It is so easy to practice at Plum Village, but so difficult to practice in the world, with the pressure of work, friends and the dominant western culture. My Sangha helps motivate me to be diligent.

My practice helps me transform my suffering into happiness. It gives me faith that there is a way out of suffering. It reminds me that my suffering is impermanent. With this awareness, I can smile through my tears.

mb48-OnLove2Laurie Arron, Faithful Embrace of the Heart, is an aspirant to the Order of Interbeing. He divides his time between Toronto and Ottawa and is a member of the Mindfulness Practice Centre of the University of Toronto and the Pine Gate Sangha.

PDF of this article

Joyfully Together

By Maria Y. Rodriguez

mb65-Joyfully1

I moved to Seattle, Washington, two years ago from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. It took me a while to find a practice community, mostly because there is only one in Thay’s tradition and I lived quite far from it. When I did arrive at MCPS (Mindfulness Community of Puget Sound, the urban sister practice center to rural Mountain Lamp) a year later, I was happy to find such a strong, deeply committed community, but I wondered: Where were the younger folks?

mb65-Joyfully2

Practicing with elders is wonderful and incredibly enriching, but I also felt like I needed an opportunity to connect with people who identified as I did in the world and were going through some of the same life transitions––being a student, starting a career, building intimate relationships, understanding my own and others’ sexuality and sexual identity, understanding my own and others’ gender identity, etc.

As a person of color, I am aware that practicing with people who share my identities is a powerful gift, a chance to heal pain and suffering that might not otherwise be touched. In my experience, in order to breach the walls that keep people separated (walls of pain, fear, suspicion, loss, and heartache), it is important first to give ourselves strong, safe spaces for practice. We come together within our identities to remember our strength, resilience, and connection, and to fall in love with life all over again.

Sharing the Dharma

While living in Philadelphia, I had participated in some Wake Up events, and I was eager to continue exploring Wake Up’s healing spirit and energy. After a few months of practicing with MCPS, I was approached by the folks putting together the Pacific Northwest Wake Up tour and they asked if I could help with organizing. With the help of the People of Color and Allies Sangha of Seattle (POCAS), we secured a room for an event on the University of Washington campus.

MCPS also supported the Wake Up tour by offering the practice center, Dharma Gate, for a non-residential, weekend Wake Up retreat and to serve as a dorm for the tour facilitators. What a great experience! Singing, laughing, crying, practicing together helped shift so much pain and suffering in the hearts of the retreatants. There was so much joy nourished, so much happiness shared––writing about it makes me smile even now! The experience convinced a few of us that a Seattle Wake Up group was possible. A month or so later, seattle@wkup.org was born.

mb65-Joyfully3

Seattle Wake Up members wanted the chance to practice together with other Wake Up Sanghas across the Pacific Northwest in a retreat setting, so when I was asked to be part of a planning team to help put together a five-day retreat at Mountain Lamp, I readily agreed. My greatest aspiration is to share the Dharma with those who would like to receive it––those seeking comfort and spiritual nourishment. I was not about to pass up the opportunity to be of service. What I didn’t know was how much the experience would serve me.

Aspiring Together

Arriving at Mountain Lamp, I was awestruck: the hills rolled and the birds and butterflies sang for me. I was so eager to meet all of the retreatants and to practice with them in this sacred space.

Together, we laid out our goals. We wanted to:

  1. Create a format that would allow for mindfulness instruction but emphasize the fact that we were all on retreat together. Our peer facilitator format allowed for instruction without hierarchy, a central way of being within the Wake Up movement.
  2. Create opportunities for leadership development within the Wake Up Sangha. To encourage this, we focused on helping folks learn how to invite the bell as a central form of our practice; it was important for us to make sure everyone had the chance to invite bells for at least one activity if they wanted to, no matter what their level of experience had been before. After all, if you don’t start somewhere you won’t be anywhere!
  3. Make sure that retreatants had FUN! Sitting and walking meditation are wonderful, so we sought to have a strong practice schedule that left plenty of time to apply our mindfulness in activities such as swimming and canoeing in a lake, hiking, singing, dancing, and even a bonfire complete with vegan s’mores!

Surrendering  in  Sangha

During the fi day of the retreat, one of the retreatants and I began talking about our experience with the Fifth Mindfulness Training, specifi y around compulsive overeating. This is something that has caused me a lot of pain and suffering from a very young age. I have tried every book, every diet, every behavioral/cognitive trick, but have never been able to relieve the suffering or get help. My new friend shared some stories and literature from a twelve-step program that sought to help compulsive overeaters like me with a solution that works, one based on deep spiritual work.

The next day, as I was preparing for a trip to the lake, I stopped next to a beautiful old tree (I always turn to trees in my moments of greatest despair––their solidity and steadiness soothe me) and started sobbing. Huge waves of anger, resentment, frustration, loneliness, and despair welled up in me and moved through my tears. My new friend had shown me what my heart had been searching for. I needed the kind of help that came from connecting with others. I needed the strength of a power greater than myself. I needed a Sangha dedicated to the alleviation of the compulsion to overeat. I finally had a solution––I was ready to begin the process of surrendering my years of pain and isolation. What a relief!

The physical retreat ended June 30, 2013. I went to my first twelve-step meeting July 1. Since then, I have surrendered fifty pounds and am working, one day at a time, to surrender even more. I feel that the balance between formal practice and time spent in community is what helped make my transformation possible. My heart was able to open wide and let in the light and love of a kind friend in the practice. This balanced format, for me, is the epitome of engaged Buddhism––engagement with every moment, with each other, and most importantly, with ourselves.

My dis-ease, once hidden away in the darkest corners of my heart, was showered with the light of compassion and understanding generated from our sitting, walking, and sharing mindfully together. I have no idea what I would have done if this retreat had not happened––if I had not been invited to show up for others and gifted with the capacity to show up for myself. I’m grateful to all those who have supported Wake Up in the Pacific Northwest and throughout the world, because thanks to them, I do not have to find out.

May all beings be free from suffering. May they all be happy and healthy. May all beings be loved and cherished. May they all know peace.

Maria Y. Rodriguez, Compassionate Light of the Heart, is thirty and an aspirant to the Order of Interbeing. She has participated in Wake Up events in Philadelphia and the Pacific Northwest. She is a Wake Up Ambassador for Seattle Wake Up, where she currently lives and works as a Ph.D. student in Social Welfare.

PDF of this article

Touched by Heart Nectar

Stories from a Joyful Retreat

By Lorrie Harrison

mb52-Touched1

A friend recently sent a description of what he imagined it was like at Plum Village: “I get a flash of it being like individual bees flowing toward an attractant. The sweet words of Thay and the lovely people and surroundings pull at the soul like the flowers pull the bees. Then the hive disperses to various parts of the world, forever touched by the heart nectar.”

This is exactly what it is like.

mb52-Touched2

A Family Reunion

About 600 of us from fifty countries are in Plum Village for the June retreat. To help people connect and feel solid, we form “families” of about twenty people. In my Oceans of Peace family, we are from Denmark, Viet Nam, Hong Kong, North Carolina, Wales, the UK, Berkeley, Botswana, Scotland, Germany, the Netherlands… and Lopez Island, my home off the coast of Washington State.

The weather is steamy-hot midday, but mornings are blessedly cool. The large pink-petal lotus flowers are just opening, a few lazy frogs lounge on the shiny green lily pads, the sun is still gentle and easy. By 9:00 a.m. we’ve all arrived at the meditation hall for Thay’s Dharma talk. Quietly we slip off our shoes and enter in noble silence. The hall is simple. At one end, two sticks of incense burn on a Buddha altar. Up front, a simple vase sits next to Thay’s cushion with a sprig of flowers and a tray with one small teapot and cup. Cushions and mats are arranged in a large semi-circle with chairs behind. I enjoy hearing the comforting rustles and whispers as lay friends and monastics settle in. Those who don’t speak English plug their headphones into audio boxes for translations of Thay’s talk.

The ting-ting-ting of the small bell announces Thay’s arrival. Everyone stands and joins their palms. Our teacher enters the silent hall and walks to his cushion in the center of the front row. He turns to the Sangha and bows. We return his bow, and all sit down.

Seeing Thay for the first time in three years, my heart opens like a morning flower. He looks so young, so fresh; his words are as joyous as his smile. “Dear friends, when I see you all here, come from so far, I feel so happy! We have each other; we have hope. Like many drops of water, we come together to flow as one serene river. On June 21 we will go back into the world, but we are here now. Let us enjoy every minute, every second. For me this is a family reunion, a celebration, a Dharma festival! We entrust ourselves to the Sangha. We learn, we grow and together are free.”

Before the monastic chanting that precedes the Dharma talk, a nun offers this aspiration: “The Sangha is invited to come back to their breathing. Let the whole Sangha breathe as one body, chant as one body, listen as one body and transcend the boundaries of the delusive self, liberating from the superiority complex, the inferiority complex, and the equality complex.”

Huh? I can understand liberating from feeling superior or inferior, but isn’t equality exactly what I’m hoping to nourish? Each morning the aspiration is read aloud and each morning I smile hearing it. The little mystery tickles me. One day, Thay unties the knots of my koan. “When we feel equal, we are still separate. Our practice is to liberate ourselves from all distinctions, to understand I am in you and you are in me. No distinctions. No separation. This is true interbeing.”

Thay talks about Barack Obama’s Cairo speech, saying President Obama is practicing Beginning Anew with Islam. “He is one of the few politicians who knows how to use loving speech. He does not call himself a Dharma teacher, but he is a Dharma teacher!” Thay tells us Obama has manifested for our sake, and asks us to give him our support. “The Sangha is very strong; we should do something to let him know we are here for him. Please reflect on how you might help him. Where there is a will, there is a way! We all know that President Obama is made of many nonObama elements.” Thay’s eyes crinkle into a twinkly smile. “And we are some of those elements!”

Breathe, You’re Online

Thay likes to write on the whiteboard when he talks. I enjoy watching him erase the board. He pauses, quietly stands up, and walks mindfully to the board. Then he picks up the eraser. There is not a sound in the Dharma hall. Hundreds of us, totally silent. It’s easy to smile, relax, and enjoy the peaceful moment. Thay slowly wipes away the words, making a clean space for new writing. I feel calm, free from speed, free from wanting anything, enjoying watching the eraser make wide, peaceful arcs across the board.

Thay is teaching about practicing right diligence: ways to stay safe in a fast world. At Plum Village, the monastics have a way to use the Internet while not getting caught in its energy. They ask another brother or sister to sit beside them while they are online. In this way they are part of the world, but safe, too. Thay paints beautiful calligraphies which are sold in the bookshop to raise money for special projects. The newest is “Breathe, you’re online.” How cool to have a teacher who, at age eighty-three, uses the Internet to share the Dharma!

A Path to Joy

One of Thay’s themes in this retreat is joy. He talks about the Buddha’s teachings on the Four Noble Truths, reminding us that the first truth is that life contains suffering. But, he says, we concentrate too much there. The second truth is that there is a path to suffering; the way we have been living has brought suffering to us. Remove the cause and the effect will vanish. The third is that there is joy, an end to suffering, and it is the absence of darkness, the presence of light. The fourth noble truth is that there is a path to that joy.

The old language, from the time of the Buddha, calls the third noble truth the cessation of ill-being, but Thay’s teaching is clear: let us call this by its true name, joy! Let’s find a way to make this wonderful teaching available to everyone. The world needs our help. “Dear friends, please be the best practitioners you can be. That is why we live our life in mindfulness and concentration: it is for our own liberation. With that, we can help to liberate the world.

We can learn to gladden our minds. Please don’t leave your love, your compassion in the basement of your store consciousness. Go get them! They will be your tonic, your strength, your nourishment. You will become stronger, and then, when pain, confusion, sadness come, you will be able to handle them.”

How do we bring up this feeling of joy? We make use of our breathing. We return to the present moment so that insight, knowledge, and awareness will bloom, and joy will be possible right away. We don’t have to be excited any more. Our joy can be calm and peaceful. This is true joy.

Circle of Friends

After the Dharma talk, we wander around the grounds. It’s nice to seek a soft patch of grass by the lotus pond or a wisp of shade. The monks show us where to pick juicy black mulberries from the trees. The nuns are selling little treats to raise money for needy children in Vietnam. We gather at their tables, choosing sweet crepes served on fat green leaves, warm sesame balls (oh, the doughy goodness!), and squares of carroty cake.

The big bell calls us for walking meditation. We gather in one huge circle, monastics and lay friends side by side. Someone begins singing, “Happiness is here and now, I have dropped my worries. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, no longer in a hurry.” More little songs follow with simple words, melodies, and hand motions. We sing in French, German, Dutch, Vietnamese, and Spanish. Years ago I felt a little goofy singing like this, but now these songs awaken my tender heart. I feel like a happy kindergartner, safe in a circle of friends.

After we sing half a dozen songs, a hush falls on the group. Like flowers turning toward the sun, the circle opens as Thay joins us. We join our palms and bow. Taking two children by the hand, he starts making slow, mindful steps. Imagine the extraordinary sight: 600 people silently walking step-by-gentle-step around the lotus pond, through the stately rows of poplar trees, into the forest, down beside the creek, and finally back to the hamlet. We walk for forty-five minutes, flowing in a silent Dharma river.

mb52-Touched3Lorrie Harrison, Compassionate Listening of the Heart, is a founding member of the Morning Light Sangha on Lopez Island in Washington State. A professional writer, she lived and practiced near Plum Village for five months over the summer.

PDF of this article

Dharma Talk: The Four Immeasurable Minds

By Thich Nhat Hanh

During the lifetime of the Buddha, those of the Brahmanic faith prayed that after death they would go to Heaven to dwell eternally with Brahma, the universal God. One day a Brahmin man asked the Buddha, “What can I do to be sure that I will be with Brahma after I die?” and the Buddha replied, “As Brahma is the source of Love, to dwell with him you must practice the Brahma-viharas—love, compassion, joy, and equanimity.” A vihara is an abode or a dwelling place. Love in Sanskrit is maitri; in Pali it is metta. Compassion is karuna in both languages. Joy is mudita. Equanimity is upeksha in Sanskrit and upekkha in Pali. The Brahmaviharas are four elements of true love. They are called Immeasurable, because if you practice them, they will grow every day until they embrace the whole world. You will become happier and those around you will become happier, also.

Thich Nhat Hanh

The Buddha respected people’s desire to practice their own faith, so he answered the Brahmin’s question in a way that encouraged him to do so. If you enjoy sitting meditation, practice sitting meditation. If you enjoy walking meditation, practice walking meditation. But preserve your Jewish, Christian or Muslim roots. That is the way to continue the Buddha’s spirit. If you are cut off from your roots, you cannot be happy.

According to Nagarjuna, the second-century Buddhist philosopher, practicing the Immeasurable Mind of Love extinguishes anger in the hearts of living beings. Practicing the Immeasurable Mind of Compassion extin­guishes all sorrows and anxieties in the hearts of living beings. Practicing the Immeasurable Mind of Joy extinguishes sadness and joylessness in the hearts of living beings. Practicing the Immeasurable Mind of Equanimity extinguishes hatred, aversion, and attachment in the hearts of living beings.

If we learn ways to practice love, compassion, joy, and equanimity, we will know how to heal the illnesses of anger, sorrow, insecurity, sadness, hatred, loneliness, and unhealthy attachments. In the Anguttara Nikaya, the Buddha teaches, “If a mind of anger arises, the bhikkhu (monk) can practice the meditation on love, compassion, or equanimity for the person who has brought about the feeling of anger.”

Some sutra commentators have said that the Brahma-viharas are not the highest teaching of the Buddha, that they cannot put an end to suffering and afflictions. This is not correct. One time the Buddha said to his beloved attendant Ananda, “Teach these Four Immeasurable Minds to the young monks, and they will feel secure, strong, and joyful, without afflictions of body or mind. For the whole of their lives, they will be well equipped to practice the pure way of a monk.” On another occasion, a group of the Buddha’s disciples visited the monastery of a nearby sect, and the monks there asked, “We have heard that your teacher Gautama teaches the Four Immeasurable Minds of love, compassion, joy, and equanimity. Our master teaches this also. What is the difference?” The Buddha’s disciples did not know how to respond. When they returned to their monastery, the Buddha told them, “Whoever practices the Four Immeasurable Minds together with the Seven Factors of Enlightenment, the Four Noble Truths, and the Noble Eightfold Path will arrive deeply at enlightenment.” Love, compassion, joy, and equanimity are the very nature of an enlightened person. They are the four aspects of true love within ourselves and within everyone and everything.

The first aspect of true love is maitri, the intention and capacity to offer joy and happiness. To develop that capacity, we have to practice looking and listening deeply so that we know what to do and what not to do to make others happy. If you offer your beloved something she does not need, that is not maitri. You have to see her real situation or what you offer might bring her unhappiness.

In Southeast Asia, many people are extremely fond of a large, thorny fruit called durian. You could even say they are addicted to it. Its smell is extremely strong, and when some people finish eating the fruit, they put the skin under their bed so they can continue to smell it. To me, the smell of durian is horrible. One day when I was practicing chanting alone in my temple in Vietnam, there was a durian on the altar that had been offered to the Buddha. I was trying to recite The Lotus Sutra, using a wooden drum and a large bowl-shaped bell for accompaniment, but I could not concentrate at all. I finally carried the bell to the altar and turned it upside down to imprison the durian, so I could chant the sutra. After I finished, I bowed to the Buddha and liberated the durian. If you were to say to me, “Thay, I love you so much I would like you to eat some of this durian,” I would suffer. You love me, you want me to be happy, but you force me to eat durian. That is an example of love without understanding. Your intention is good, but you don’t have the correct understanding.

Without understanding, your love is not true love. You must look deeply in order to see and understand the needs, aspirations, and suffering of the one you love. We all need love. Love brings us joy and well-being. It is as natural as the air. We are loved by the air; we need fresh air to be happy and well. We are loved by trees. We need trees to be healthy. In order to be loved, we have to love, which means we have to understand. For our love to continue, we have to take the appropriate action or non-action to protect the air, the trees, and our beloved.

Maitri can be translated as “love” or “loving kindness.” Some Buddhist teachers prefer “loving kindness,” as they find the word “love” too darigerous. But I prefer the word love. Words sometimes get sick and we have to heal them. We have been using the word “love” to mean appetite or desire, as in “I love hamburgers.” We have to use language more carefully. We have to restore the meaning of the word love. “Love” is a beautiful word. We have to restore its meaning. The word maitri has roots in the word mitra, which means friend. In Buddhism, the primary meaning of love is friendship.

We all have the seeds of love in us. We can develop this wonderful source of energy, nurturing the unconditional love that does not expect anything in return. When we understand someone deeply, even someone who has done us harm, we cannot resist loving him or her. Shakyamuni Buddha declared that the Buddha of the next eon will be named Maitreya, the Buddha of Love.

The second aspect of true love is karuna, the intention and capacity to relieve and transform suffering and lighten sorrows. Karuna is usually translated as “compassion,” but that is not exactly correct. “Compassion” is composed of com (“together with”) and passion (“to suffer”). But we do not need to suffer to remove suffering from another person. Doctors, for instance, can relieve their patients’ suffering without experiencing the same disease in themselves. If we suffer too much, we may he crushed and unable to help. Still, until we find a better word, let us use “compassion” to translate karuna.

To develop compassion in ourselves, we need to practice mindful breathing, deep listening, and deep looking. The Lotus Sutra describes Avalokiteshvara as the bodhisattva who practices “looking with the eyes of compassion and listening deeply to the cries of the world.” Compassion contains deep concern. You know the other person is suffering, so you sit close to her. You look and listen deeply to her to be able to touch her pain. You are in deep commu­nication, deep communion with her, and that alone brings some relief.

One compassionate word, action, or thought can reduce another person’s suffering and bring him joy. One word can give comfort and confidence, destroy doubt, help someone avoid a mistake, reconcile a conflict, or open the door to liberation. One action can save a person’s life or help him take advantage of a rare opportunity. One thought can do the same, because thoughts always lead to words and actions. With compassion in our heart, every thought, word, and deed can bring about a miracle.

When I was a novice, I could not understand why, if the world is filled with suffering, the Buddha has such a beautiful smile. Why isn’t he disturbed by all the suffering? Later I discovered that the Buddha had enough understand­ing, calmness, and strength. That is why the suffering does not overwhelm him. He is able to smile to suffering because he knows how to take care of it and to help transform it. We need to be aware of the suffering, but retain our clarity, calmness, and strength so we can help transform the situation. The ocean of tears cannot drown us if karuna is there. That is why the Buddha’s smile is possible.

The third element of true love is mudita, joy. True love always brings joy to ourselves and to the one we love. If our love does not bring joy to both of us, it is not true love.

Commentators explain that happiness relates to both body and mind, whereas joy relates primarily to mind. This example is often given: Someone traveling in the desert sees a stream of cool water and experiences joy. On drinking the water, he experiences happiness. Ditthadhamma sukhavihari means “dwelling happily in the present moment.” We don’t rush to the future; we know that everything is here in the present moment. Many small things can bring us tremen­dous joy, such as the awareness that we have eyes in good condition. We just have to open our eyes and we can see the blue sky, the violet flowers, the children, the trees, and so many other kinds of forms and colors. Dwelling in mindful­ness, we can touch these wondrous and refreshing things, and our mind of joy arises naturally. Joy contains happiness and happiness contains joy.

mb18-dharma2

Some commentators have said that mudita means “sympathetic joy” or “altruistic joy,” the happi­ness we feel when others are happy. But that is too limited. It discriminates between self and others. A deeper definition of mudita is a joy that is filled with peace and contentment. We rejoice when we see others happy, but we rejoice in our own well-being as well. How can we feel joy for another person when we do not feel joy for ourselves? Joy is for everyone.

The fourth element of true love is upeksha, which means equanimity, nonattachment, nondiscrimi­nation, even-mindedness, or letting go. Upe means “over,” and ksh means “to look.” You climb the mountain to be able to look over the whole situation, not bound by one side or the other. If your love has attachment, discrimination, prejudice, or clinging in it, it is not true love. People who do not understand Buddhism sometimes think upeksha means indifference, but true equanimity is neither cold nor indiffer­ent. If you have more than one child, they are all your children. Upeksha does not mean that you don’t love. You love in a way that all your children receive your love, without discrimination.

Upeksha has the mark called samatajnana, “the wisdom of equality,” the ability to see everyone as equal, not discriminating between ourselves and others. In a conflict, even though we are deeply concerned, we remain impartial, able to love and to understand both sides. We shed all discrimination and prejudice, and remove all boundaries between ourselves and others. As long as we see ourselves as the one who loves and the other as the one who is loved, as long as we value ourselves more than others or see others as different from us, we do not have true equanimity. We have to put ourselves “into the other person’s skin” and become one with him if we want to understand and truly love him. When that happens, there is no “self’ and no “other.”

Without upeksha, your love may become possessive. A summer breeze can be very refreshing; but if we try to put it in a tin can so we can have it entirely for ourselves, the breeze will die. Our beloved is the same. He is like a cloud, a breeze, a flower. If you imprison him in a tin can, he will die. Yet many people do just that. They rob their loved one of his liberty, until he can no longer be himself. They live to satisfy themselves and use their loved one to help them fulfill that. That is not loving; it is destroying. You say you love him, but if you do not understand his aspirations, his needs, his difficulties, he is in a prison called love. True love allows you to preserve your freedom and the freedom of your beloved. That is upeksha.

For love to be true love, it must contain compassion, joy, and equanimity in it. For compassion to be true compassion, it has to have love, joy, and equanimity in it. True joy has to contain love, compassion, and equanimity. And true equanimity has to have love, compassion, and joy in it. This is the interbeing nature of the Four Immeasurable Minds. When the Buddha told the Brahmin man to practice the Four Immeasurable Minds, he was offering all of us a very important teaching. But we must look deeply and practice them for ourselves to bring these four aspects of love into our own lives and into the lives we love. 

This Dharma talk is from Teachings on Love, to be pub­lished by Parallax Press in March. 

PDF of this article

To request permission to reprint this article, either online or in print, contact the Mindfulness Bell at editor@mindfulnessbell.org.

Dharma Talk: Liberating Our Hearts – Practicing with the Paramita of Inclusiveness

By Thich Nhat Hanh

Before our airplane takes off, we are told the way to use the oxygen mask. And we are always told that we have to put on the oxygen mask for ourselves first, and only then can we place the oxygen mask on our child, the young person sitting next to us. If we are not successful in placing the mask on ourselves first and afterwards on our child, then we will both die for lack of oxygen.

Thich Nhat Hanh

In Buddhism it’s the same. We have to help ourselves before we can help others. The word we use to speak of this is the word meaning “to cross over to the other shore.” The shore over here is the shore of suffering, the shore of anger, of anxi­ety, of pain. But the shore over there is the shore of peace, of freedom. To go from this shore to the other shore is called “paramita.” There are six ways of doing that called the six paramitas, six ways of going to the other shore.

We may think that paramita is a very difficult practice, but if we learn how to do it, we can go to the other shore quite easily. Even in ten minutes or half an hour or an hour we can cross over to the other shore. When we are angry, when we are drowning in our anger, we suffer a great deal in our body and our mind. It is as if we are being burned, and if we don’t know how to deal with the situation, we can drown in our suffering. Therefore, we have to practice going over to the other shore, the shore of no-anger, the shore of no-hatred. We have a raft to take us to the other shore and we have to use it every day. The six paramitas are the six ways of going to the other shore.

The Kshanti Paramita 

The third paramita is called Kshanti Paramita; it can be translated as inclusiveness. It means literally, “to forebear, to endure,” but we could misunderstand that word. Kshanti re­ally means to accept and to embrace. For example, this glass — it can hold about twenty cubic centiliters and it can endure those twenty cubic centiliters, that is its capacity. If we pour twenty cubic centiliters into it, the glass will not suffer. But if we want it to hold more, it may suffer. If we force a lot of sand into it, it will break. And we are the same. Each of us has the capacity to endure, to accept a certain amount of injustice but if we are forced to accept more we shall crack or we will break. Somebody says something or does something which we do not like, they do something unjust to us, and we suffer. But whether we suffer a lot or a little, whether we suffer at all, depends on whether the capacity of our heart to accept and to endure is small or great. There are people who could hear those same words, be treated in that same way, but they would not be angry. They would smile. But we, when we hear those words, when we see that behavior, we suffer a lot because compared with their heart, our heart is very small.

The capacity of the bodhisattvas’ hearts is very big, the ca­pacity to receive, to embrace and to include. The reason why we suffer is because the capacity of our heart is very small. We hear the same words, we have the same treatment and some people can accept it, but we cannot. We suffer a great deal. Therefore we have to practice the capacity to include, to em­brace. If we practice, if we train, the capacity of our heart will grow and we will suffer much less. We will hear the same words, we will be treated in the same way, and we will smile and we will not suffer.

To practice inclusiveness, or patience, does not mean that we have to suffer. When we suppress our suffering sooner or later we will crack, we will break, Therefore, the paramita of patience does not mean to suppress. If you practice suppress­ing, if you grit your teeth and bear it and think that that is the practice of patience, it is not. Soon you will crack, you will break. That is not what the Buddha taught. The Buddha taught that we have to practice, we have to train in order to open up our own hearts.

And when our understanding is great, our love is great, our heart will become great. We often say in Viemamese that it is our heart which is small, not our house. When our heart is wide, our house can receive many guests. If our heart is small, even if our house is very large, we will not receive any guests.

Every morning on the fifteenth or the first of the lunar month in the traditional temples, we organize a ceremony called “Com­mending the Virtues of the Buddha.” It is to praise the Buddha and the bodhisattvas and our ancestral teachers. There is a sen­tence praising the Buddha which goes something Like this: “The Awakened One who is fully awakened, arose in India. His heart is able to embrace the whole of space, his capacity includes all the three chiliocosms.” It means the capacity of his heart is very great. These are also four lines which are offered as praise to the Buddha. “The capacity of his heart can include all the worlds even though they are as numerous as the sands of the Ganges.”

And why does the Buddha have such a great capacity of compassion and understanding? Because he has practiced. We can do the same. If we prac­tice the paramita of patience, if we practice the Four Immeasurable Minds of loving kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity, our heart will grow. And we will have the capacity to accept everything people say, however people treat us, even if we suffer injustice, we can still smile, we can still be happy.

A fistful of salt 

In the sutras there was a time when the Buddha taught like this: “Imagine there is someone who is holding a fistful of salt. They place it in a small bowl of water and stir it around with their finger. Monks, do you think people could drink that wa­ter?” And the monks said, “Such water would be far too salty to drink. How could you drink it? You’d have to throw it away.” The Buddha said, “That is correct.” Then the Buddha said, “But if, for example, you were to throw that fistful of salt in the river, then would the people who lived in the villages alongside of the river continue to drink the water of the river?” And the monks said, “Yes.” “Why?” “Because the river is vast and the fistful of salt cannot possibly make the water of the river salty.”

It is the same for us. If our heart is small, then those words, that action, that injustice will make us angry. A small injustice will cause us many sleepless nights and we may not even be able to eat for a week. If our heart is great, like the river, then those words will not have any effect on us, that behavior and that injustice will not have any meaning. We can continue to smile, we can continue to be free, peaceful, and joyful as we were before. Therefore, the practice of the paramita of inclu­siveness helps us to look deeply and to be able to see clearly the truth and to allow the heart of understanding and love in us to grow. Then our heart will become like a river and people may come and throw twenty or thirty kilos of salt into it, but we will not suffer.

Be like the earth 

Rahula became a novice when he was only eight years old. When he was eighteen years old the Buddha taught him about the practice of inclusiveness. He said, “Rahula, you have to practice to be like the earth.” “Why?” “Because the earth has the great capacity to receive, to accept, to embrace, and to trans­form. If people pour fragrant milk, perfumes, and sweet things on the earth, or if they pour on the earth filthy things like spittle, mucous, excrement and garbage, the earth does not crave or is not greedy for the sweet things and is not angry with the filthy things. It receives everything equally. The earth has the capac­ity to include them all and to transform them all. It is not attached to the clean or angry with the dirty. You have to practice to be able to behave like the earth.”

The Buddha continued to teach Rahula that not only the earth, but also the water, the fire and the air have the great ca­pacity to accept all forms of offerings, wonderful and fragrant as well as polluted and dirty. It means the capacity of these four elements is very great and our heart has to be as great as that and then we will not suffer. In this way the Buddha shared the paramita of inclusiveness with Rahula.

I remember one day I was leading the children on walking meditation in the Upper Hamlet. We went along a beautiful path, seeing so many beautiful leaves, flowers, and butterflies, bees, and dragonflies, and all these beautiful things made us feel we were in paradise. Then we came to a place where we saw on the lawn the excrement of a dog and the children held their noses and stood to one side. I took their hands and I said, “Look deeply, my children. I have a lot of faith in the earth because the earth has received this excrement of the dog, but in a week’s time the earth will have transformed it, and it will be­come nourishment for the flowers and the trees which we are seeing today. The earth has the capacity to accept, to embrace and to transform and is never angry with what is thrown upon it.”

The method which helps our heart to grow bigger is the Four Immeasurable Minds. The Four Minds have become so great, the mind of loving kindness, the mind of compassion, the mind of joy, and the mind of equanimity. Maitri, karuna, mudita, and upeksa are the four elements of true love. If you cultivate them every day, then they become boundless. You are capable of embracing everything, everyone, then the larger your heart becomes, the happier you become. You don’t have to suffer because of all the small things, the inconveniences that make you suffer every day. So the practice is not to be a bowl of water but to be a river and after that to be the ocean. What makes other people suffer cannot make you suffer any more because your heart is large. That is what it means by “bound­less states.”

Maitri — the capacity to offer well-being 

In Sanskrit, loving kindness is maitri; it is the capacity to offer well-being and happiness. And you cannot offer some­thing that you do not have. Therefore, practice in order for you yourself to have maitri , the energy of loving kindness, and you will be the first to profit from that energy. With the practice of looking deeply, the practice of calming, of understanding, you make the energy of loving kindness grow within yourself. You experience bliss, solidity, freedom, and well-being, and your presence will naturally offer the person you are with that same kind of energy. You only need to just be there. Before you do anything, before you say anything, your presence can already make him or her happy, because in you there is the energy of maitri.

mb29-dharma2

There are people who are very pleasant to be with and children like to come and sit close to them. Just sit­ting close to them, the children feel good in themselves. There are people whom we want to sit close to. We don’t need to talk to them. We don’t even need them to look at us, just sit near them and you can feel that wonderful energy of love, of well-being. When you come and sit close to the linden tree, then the linden tree has the ca­pacity of calming you down. The lin­den flower also helps you to calm down; the linden tree has something like maitri within herself. So a person who cultivates maitri is someone whose presence is wonderful, refresh­ing and healing, and you would like to stay close to him or to her.

If you want to practice loving kindness, you have to look deeply to see and to understand. And when you see and understand you can offer joy and happiness to the other person. That person, what do they need and what do they not need? When we can see their real needs, we can offer the thing that they need. That person may be very afraid of the color red and we force her to wear a red dress; that will make her suffer. When we were a child, we really wanted to wear a red dress, but our mother would not allow us to wear red. When we have our own daughter, we want our daughter to wear a red dress in order to satisfy the desire we had when we were young. But our daughter hates red. To force our daughter to wear a red dress is to make her suffer.

When we were young, we wanted to be a doctor, but we did not have the chance to learn to be a doctor and therefore our desire has become an unsatisfied wound in us. When we have our own children we force them to train as doctors in order to satisfy the desire that we once had. But our daughter has a different skill or talent and does not want to be a doctor. To force our children to be doctors is to make them suffer. We think that to be a doctor will bring a lot of money and bring a position in society. We have an idea of happiness and we want to force that idea onto our children. That comes from our love, but this kind of love is not produced by understanding. There­fore, the more we love, the more we make our children suffer. To understand is the element that brings about true love. If we want to love, if we want to understand, we have to look deeply. If we want to practice maitri, we have to learn to look deeply.

Karuna — the capacity to reduce suffering in the other person 

The second immeasurable mind is the mind of compassion. Compas­sion is the capacity to reduce and to transform the suffering in the other person. If we want to remove the suf­fering from the other person, we have to have a right perception of the na­ture of their suffering. What is the cause of the suffering? What gave rise to the suffering in the other person? We have to practice looking deeply; that is, we have to practice another of the paramitas, called the paramita of meditative concentration. When we have time, when we have the ability to open our heart, when we don’t have prejudice, we can look into the other person and see the suffering that that person has been through. We can see the nature of their suffering and when we know that, we know what we should do and what we should not do in order for that wound to heal in the other person. If we don’t have that understanding then we will not have the insight which is another paramita, the paramita of understanding, and we will just make the other person suffer more. Compassion is the heart which has understanding and wisdom in it.

Mudita — the capacity to offer joy 

The third immeasurable mind is that of joy. In our relation­ship with our loved one the element of joy is very important. If we love each other, we have to love each other in such a way that both of us have happiness every day, then it is real love. If every day we weep, we are sad, we suffer, then that is not real love, In the morning, were we able to smile and be happy to­gether in our love? Were we able to say good-bye to each other and go to work with the energy of joy and love? But if, in the morning, we weep, in the midday we weep, and in the after­noon we weep, then the element of joy is not there. Therefore, the element of joy is very important in our love. First of all, there is the element of loving kindness, which is to offer happi­ness; the element of compassion, to remove suffering; and then the element of joy, the happiness which comes from our love.

Upeksa — the capacity to love with equanimity 

And finally, there is the element of equanimity. Equanim­ity means to love in such a way that we can preserve the free­dom of the other person and our own freedom. If we lose our freedom and we take away the other person’s freedom, that is not yet real love. When we love with the aim of possessing the other, we take away our loved one’s freedom. We have to love in such a way that we have a lot of space and the other person has a lot of space. If we see there is a little bit of loving kind­ness, of compassion, of joy, and of equanimity in our love we should try to practice so that every day the loving kindness, the compassion, the joy, and the equanimity grow a little bit more. After a couple of weeks, we shall see that gradually our love is becoming true love and our happiness is growing all the time.

We have learned that understanding leads to acceptance and acceptance leads to forgiveness and love. It makes our heart grow up. The love and the understanding help us to mature, and when our heart is mature, we can easily accept these words, this unskillful behav­ior, this injustice, and we continue to be happy.

Dear Sangha, in the Vietnamese war nearly all of us were the victims of unin­telligent policies. And in our suffering we condemned each other, looked on each other as enemies. But in fact we were all the victims of the government which did not really act with clarity. Southerners were victims and so were Northerners. If we’d seen that, we would have been no longer angry, we would have been able to embrace everyone. The Northerners would have been able to embrace the Southerners and the Southerners embrace the Northerners. The Vietnamese would have been able to embrace the North Americans and the North Americans would have been able to embrace the Vietnamese. We see that our enemy is our inability to see the situation as it really is. It is our ignorance, it is the darkness of our mind which cannot see the real situation and therefore gives rise to wrong observation and brings about a war where we kill each other and create a Iot of suffering for ourselves and for the people around us too.

The Bodhisattva Thi Kinh 

Quan Am Thi Kinh is the bodhisattva of compassion of Viet­nam, with a great, large heart. At that time in Vietnam there were no temples for nuns, and Thi Kinh very much wanted to devote her life to nunhood. So she had to pretend to be a boy in order to be able to lead the monastic life. She entered the temple as a novice monk; she was very happy. There are, among us. people who feel they have to become a monk or a nun to be happy. So they are willing to do anything to become a monk or a nun, and Thi Kinh was one of those people. There are people in Plum Village, monks and nuns, who feel like that. People have said to me, “If I could not be a nun, I could not bear it.”

At one point there was a woman who was a great admirer of the “monk” Thi Kinh, who was really a young woman. But Thi Kinh paid her no attention. The woman became pregnant and accused Thi Kinh of being the father. Of course as she was a woman this was not possible, yet she did not defend herself because she cherished the monastic life so much. When ar­rested and accused she remained silent. She was beaten and abused and still she remained silent. The woman who accused her left the child at the gates of the temple to further aggravate the situation. Instead of being angry, Thi Kinh embraced the child and raised her as a daughter of the Buddha. She was so full of compassion. Only when the “monk” Thi Kinh passed away did people discover that she was really a woman and they realized the great forebearance and love she had to have with­stood such accusation and abuse. Her heart was so great. They saw she was truly an em­bodiment of the bodhisattva of compassion, Avalokiteshvara.

mb29-dharma3

If we have great happiness, we do not mind wrong accusations which come from ignorance and hatred. We hear them and yet we do not suffer. We just feel sorry for the person who says them. The reason we can bear it is because our heart is great and there­fore the paramita of inclusiveness is very im­portant. If you are still suffering a lot, it’s not only because of the other person who’s mak­ing you suffer. If you are still suffering a lot, it’s because the capacity of your heart is not very great. Cultivating the great, boundless minds of love – loving kindness, compassion, joy and equanimity – help us to grow our inclusiveness, so that we too may embrace and forgive, forbear and overcome obstacles in our lives, and become refreshing sources of compassion and happiness for ail beings like the bodhisattva Thi Kinh.

Excerpted from Dharma talks in Vietnanamese and English from Spring 1991 and Summer 2000. The Vietnamese talk was translated by Sister True Virtue. The talks were transcribed by Barbara Casey and edited by Sister Steadiness. 

PDF of this article

To request permission to reprint this article, either online or in print, contact the Mindfulness Bell at editor@mindfulnessbell.org.