Written 22.01.22
The first (and only) time I visited Thich Nhat Hanh's monastery in upstate New York in 2013, I remember walking into the meditation hall. It was dark and cool and quiet, and had a nice church-y feel to it. On the wall was hung a large piece of his calligraphy. It said, "This is it". I was so surprised, I kind of wanted to laugh. I'd long associated churches with the promise of eternal life (don't worry, everything will be okay, etcetera). And here was a piece of writing, mounted on the wall as a precious thing, saying something seemingly very different from that. Now, nearly 10 years on, I think of that phrase pretty much every day in meditation. I acknowledge that there is no past that I can actually be in, and no future that I can inhabit – this is it. And when I do, I feel peaceful. I am in the room in a very different way.
The summer that I was lucky enough to be in Thay's presence, with many others, was something of a quiet transformation for me. I'd been having a hard time, just out of a breakup, and I received the invite to the monastery out of the blue. Thich Nhat Hanh would be making some calligraphy at a special event in Manhattan at upscale home emporium ABC, then giving a talk at Blue Cliff monastery, and a programme back in town the following week. The atmosphere at the event was very buzzy before he arrived, and Deepak Chopra was there (I remember his angular glasses). When Thay came in, the energy of the room shifted in a special way. People were clustered around him as he made his marks at a table. I was kneeling down, feeling like a kid. I really liked it when he smiled. I bought a print of his words, saying "no mud, no lotus", hoping it might be true – that out of the mud and the dirt could come something beautiful.
Later, hearing him speak at the monastery, I loved the sound of his gentle voice, the way he said the word "joy" so softly. I loved the lilies in the pond outside. At the talk he gave at the Beacon Theatre, Manhattan, he talked about the cyclical nature of all things – how a rose can die and turn to compost, and from the compost another rose grows... "and rose goes to compost... goes to rose... " I think about this all the time.
Over the years, I've bought his books. I like how often they say the same thing in different ways, as if he knows I'm a slow learner, that habits can be hard to turn. I've spoken his words in yoga classes. I've read his teachings with my partner, they have helped us both. Often when I am hugging someone I really love, I think of his special hugging technique, and either out loud or in my head I say "You are here, alive in my arms, and I am so happy".
When I read the news yesterday that he had left his body, I cried. I know that we all knew it might be soon, after he had a stroke in 2014. And so much of his teaching is around accepting death and releasing fear of that. Why was I crying? Because his life so moved me. Because I am so grateful. Because I've felt my life transformed by his teaching and presence, and I know it is true for millions of people all around the world – and somehow I feel this brings us closer together.
Over the years, I've bought his books. I like how often they say the same thing in different ways, as if he knows I'm a slow learner, that habits can be hard to turn. I've spoken his words in yoga classes. I've read his teachings with my partner, they have helped us both. Often when I am hugging someone I really love, I think of his special hugging technique, and either out loud or in my head I say "You are here, alive in my arms, and I am so happy".
When I read the news yesterday that he had left his body, I cried. I know that we all knew it might be soon, after he had a stroke in 2014. And so much of his teaching is around accepting death and releasing fear of that. Why was I crying? Because his life so moved me. Because I am so grateful. Because I've felt my life transformed by his teaching and presence, and I know it is true for millions of people all around the world – and somehow I feel this brings us closer together.
He writes, in No Death, No Fear:
"This body is not me; I am not caught in this body, I am life without boundaries, I have never been born and I have never died. Over there, the wide ocean and the sky with many galaxies all manifests from the basis of consciousness. Since beginningless time I have always been free. Birth and death are only a door through which we go in and out. Birth and death are only a game of hide-and-seek. So smile to me and take my hand and wave good-bye. Tomorrow we shall meet again or even before. We shall always be meeting again at the true source. Always meeting again on the myriad paths of life."
I send you all the love in my heart. Breathing in, I arrive in my body. Breathing out, I am home.
"This body is not me; I am not caught in this body, I am life without boundaries, I have never been born and I have never died. Over there, the wide ocean and the sky with many galaxies all manifests from the basis of consciousness. Since beginningless time I have always been free. Birth and death are only a door through which we go in and out. Birth and death are only a game of hide-and-seek. So smile to me and take my hand and wave good-bye. Tomorrow we shall meet again or even before. We shall always be meeting again at the true source. Always meeting again on the myriad paths of life."
I send you all the love in my heart. Breathing in, I arrive in my body. Breathing out, I am home.
