Love Letter

 I was once offered a profound, enduring lesson; how to write a love letter. To this day, this teaching informs my dreams, imagination, contemplation, intention I set as I compose letters, emails, many forms of communication. When it was offered this way, to write a love letter,  it expanded my understanding of the vibration and energy that writing is energy transmitted onto page. Writing from a place of love, I ask: Is it compassionate? Will it help someone or something?  Will it harm? What is my heart telling me?

Thich Nhat Hanh has introduced me to so many ways of looking, wider, deeper, that feels like I'm touching a deeper, wider part of me. I feel so lucky to be alive at this time.  I am grateful. Thank you for helping me to touch more of my original self. 

Perhaps you have heard of Love Letter to Earth? If ever you feel disconnected, I invite you to read, contemplate the Love Letter to Earth. My wish is for you to feel a sense of lightness, hope, and love transmitted through these words:

https://plumvillage.org/articles/love-letter-to-the-earth-2/

https://1gkys61108am2vvslv1ayriu-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/Touching-the-Earth-to-Mother-Earth-10-texts.pdf

 now love is wide and spacious, love is not confined, confused, or scarce. 

love beyond space and time. 💛

The following poem is by Dr. Larry Ward,  a lay disciple and ordained teacher of Zen Master Venerable Thich Nhat Hanh.  Read it as a love letter to a teacher and friend.  Often times, prose and poetry are composed in times of turmoil; an intimate space for grief, sorrow, gratitude, hope, renewal to arise. Both their writings can be a balm, medicine, to help bring tears and movement, to soothe, heal, repair, and ultimately inspire and propel us to move forward. 

On this day, we celebrate the continuation and 94th birthday of teacher, Zen master, Venerable Thich Nhat Hanh.

A POEM

What can I say about my beloved teacher?

I can say that the soft whisper of his voice in the dark night of confusion, of fear and sorrow, calls us home to our true selves.

I can say that his teachings bring the dharma rain, bathing us in healing energy in the blessed peace of our lives.

I can say that his gentle footsteps upon the earth ride on the winds of peace, the thunder of compassion, and reflect the powerful moonlight of understanding.

I can say that he tirelessly engages with his whole being in the noblest of causes, to heal and transform the breaking waves of our shadows.

I can say I love my teacher because he has nourished the teacher in me to wake up, wake up, wake up.

I can say that his practice, his prose, and his poetry speak with the beauty and clarity of the buddha within each of us.

I can say that on this very day we are most fortunate to be here together, to be in touch with the miracle of deep breath, and the holy moment of awareness in which we are touched by that which is not coming and not going.

So here we are together in the heart of Thich Nhat Hanh.

~  Larry Ward

https://www.thelotusinstitute.org/

GAZING AT THE MOON

Let's gaze at the full moon tonight and appreciate

 their radiance, 

spacious stillness.  And smile.

Tonight or some night,  how about reading a poem to a loved one, ancestors, a pet person, or to one with whom you have had difficulty? What poem would you choose to read or compose? 

On love, healing, openness, forgiveness? 

Moon gazing is tradition from China over one thousand five hundred years ago that spread to Vietnam, Korea, and more. In Japan,  it's called Jugoya Tsukimi. The tradition sometimes included music and composing poetry, all in a gathering of community. In this time of shifting and awakening, I love the practice of sharing stillness, contemplation, appreciation of nature, interconnection in community. 

I propose a night sending goodness, sweetness out to the world.

Greet the moon. Let's start a revolution of healing, togetherness, in community. 

Poems for you:

VIRA ~ HERO    (Sanskrit)

Truly strong

among those

who think themselves

strong.

Truly unafraid

among those 

who hide their

fear.

A hero

among those

who talk of heroes.

Don't be fooled by outward signs-

lifting heavy things

or picking fights with weaker opponents

and running headfirst into battle.

A real hero

walks the Path

to its end.

Then shows others the way.

                    ~ FIRST FREE WOMEN

        Poems of Early Buddhist Nuns

MUTTA ~ FREE        (Sanskrit)

One morning after begging for my food-

looking down at one more meal

I hadn't worked for,

hadn't paid for,

hadn't earned.

A life of debts I could never repay

pushing in on all sides

like the weight of the sea.

I blinked,

and a 

tear

fell into

my bowl.

Would it always feel like this?

Just as the moon rises up

from the bottom of the sea,

a handful of rice lifted itself

from the bottom of my bowl.

And my heart rose with it.

I wish I could tell you

how it tasted-

that first bit of food

as a free woman.

           ~ FIRST FREE WOMEN

        Poems of Early Buddhist Nuns

I am remembering~ways to live with isolation and uncertainty

dear friends experiencing loneliness, anxiety, or fear,

i am there too, some days.

i am practicing two ways to ease my loneliness, separation from loved ones, grief for humanity and uncertainty of this moment as we reside with COVID-19.

may these practices help you or a loved one~

practice one:
i have been thinking of my grandparents and what they lived through, as immigrants, legal and illegal, coming to a new country, working the land, in Hawaii to pick pineapples under difficult labor conditions and later as farmers, gardeners, merchants.  they lived through incarceration, family separation, a world war and nurtured a family over generations.

 in this moment i am called to remember my ancestors, their struggles and triumphs, imperfections and wounds, joys and delights. they survived many conditions that shook them up, reminding me of how we are shaken today.

with more time for reflection, a benefit of sheltering in place, i am remembering that growing up, we had a family altar and offered steamed rice, a red or pink camellia, or a tree ripened tangerine or persimmon from the garden to our ancestors.

we offered gratitude daily as we put our hands together,
in gassho
and bowed. a practice we continue.

i'm calling in all my ancestors~

 blood ancestors, grandparents, great grandparents and beyond who lived their lives as immigrants, survivors of war, discrimination, racism and those in Japan survivors of atomic bombs.

spiritual ancestral teachers, some known, some unknown who continue to help to guide and inspire me;  Dogen, Basho, Shantideva, Shinran, Gandhi, Maya Angelou, Grace Lee Boggs, Audre Lorde, Nelson Mandela.

land ancestors, finding solace in the trees and clear memories of bathing in forests of cedar and fir, held in their presence feeling safe, serene, and at home.  each morning we walk amongst dozens of shades of green, leaves and foliage in countless shapes, a visual symphony greets us.  recalling the mountains  and mountain ranges we have been lucky to have walked,  appreciating their grace, strength and solidity.  remembering the Earth is continually healing and repairing herself.

 we are trees, mountains, rivers, minerals, air, fire, soil.

 welcoming the ancestors daily, offering a bow to feeling supported by blood, land, spirit.

our family ancestor altar-Buddhist, Jewish, of Japan, Russia, Hungary and beyond

 our altar as antidote to isolation and anxiety.

practice two:
while sheltering in place,  handwrite one love note a day or reach out to one friend who might need to hear a caring voice. write from the heart. instead of rushing, compose each sentence as if each is a gift from your precious heart to another's precious heart.

pause,  address the envelope as a meditation,  make it an offering, a meditation of your precious breath, of lovingkindness, of compassion imbuing the envelope and its contents with deep attention, intention, and affection.

offer your precious presence by deeply listening to a friend on the phone, share a poem or song through voice memo.  listen for a time without interruption or the desire to offer advice.  offer a few minutes of sitting quietly together listening to three breaths, deeply, fully, wholly. take a chance to show a part of you that's real and vulnerable.

in living with uncertainty of our pandemic, i'm practicing not knowing when i might be with my loved ones again and some days my heart splits open. and when i acknowledge feeling shattered, it is easier to express how they have enriched my life. can i be a good friend in this moment of physical distancing?  how can i be more fully present? what is most important to convey to ones I care for so deeply?

the ancestors are calling me into this moment~

wake up dear one. we have been waiting for you.
look at this pandemic as your appointment to remember what is most important.

Can I Take A Picture of You And Send It To The White House?

It  was MLK weekend, does that come into play here? yes and no and maybe.

We were honoring, celebrating Dr. King and Thich Nhat Hanh's energy of love through justice in a public talk, did that come into play? maybe. 



The theme of the talk, "America's Racial Karma." Did that come into play here? maybe, !%#* yes!


Someone once said, there are no coincidences, everything happens for a reason. 



Three people sharing lunch together at a deli in San Diego. One Black man, one Asian woman, one white man. As we finished our lunches, a man spoke up and hollered to us at an adjacent table without introduction, hello or warning and blurted out,  "Can I take a picture of you (all) and send it to the White House?" Our friend, who is Black and I, who am Asian sat silent even though we were seated physically closest to the man. For me, it's a way of preserving safety, not knowing where this stranger was coming from.

Why would he ask that?

He didn't ask it of any other tables in the restaurant. The white man at our table was my husband, he replied back "whose side are you on?" with ease and a soft smile. The white man at the table said something like, "once you go through Orange County it's like you're in the South." Perhaps meaning there's fewer BIPOC (Black Indigenous People of Color) here, more overt segregation here? Fewer people in delis who are a mix of races enjoying a bagel, dill pickles, pastrami on rye? This man who blurted out wanting to take a picture of us was obviously charged and activated and it was at our expense.

I think he was genuinely concerned about hatred, racism and separation in our country.  As the man walked out, he said he's really worried because he has grandkids. The two of us, BIPOC remained silent,  didn't engage or join in conversation. All the words were between two white men. In those seconds I realized oh, he wants to use us to make a point. Simultaneously in the same seconds it was about safety, keeping myself, my surroundings, my friend safe from misunderstanding or who knows what.

 Could I have afforded the risk to engage? To me, to my friend, my husband and those in the deli? Could I have afforded a confrontation? Did I want a confrontation?  I'm shaken and angry.

What gives you the right to interrupt us?

As we got into the car and home that day, we had a deeper conversation about the encounter. As the days progress, I'm reflecting more and deeper.  I pointed out to my husband that due to white privilege and power, he (my husband) responded to the man with humor, curiosity and ease, questioning him about whose side he was on, and could help to de-escalate the man's activation.  It's different for People of Color. It's about protection, safety, physical, emotional, and for me, deeply embodied. It's different for a woman of color. I've learned it's very different for a Black man.

If you don't know, please learn why it's different.

The legacy of white supremacy came up. Micro and macro aggression, check. white saviorism, check. white superiority, check. white exceptionalism, check. Racism, yup. Patriarchy, power and privilege, yup, yup, yup.

It's apparent to me that yes, we ended up at the deli on MLK weekend, while intentionally honoring MLK and shedding light on the kinship between two peacemakers, Dr. King and Thich Nhat Hanh, hearts of love and justice.

We were together for that reason, to invite over one hundred folks to look deeply into our racial karma, America's Racial Karma.
. 

We are all wounded, activated, in this moment, with this administration, truth is unveiled. Some are seeing more clearly, some for the first time, and it's scaring them. I think this man's fear was seeping out in a weird place and time at our table, all over us, like mustard spilling out, he couldn't contain himself, he made a mess and walked away.

We  have much work to do, we have much healing to do. There are many brave hearts who are engaged in racial justice and antiracism work that we need to honor, amplify and protect. We need more brave hearts.

And I'm not going anywhere, gonna continue to show up, and make you uncomfortable, show up at the deli with my friends and family.  And next time I hope to be brave enough to say something although in that moment, I was angry and silent. Perhaps the best thing in that moment was to not say anything while angry. Perhaps that was my meditation practice showing up. Making a vow to not speak when anger arises. I'm going to keep showing up in better ways recognizing it's always there, this separation, this discomfort of race. It will keep seeping out, harming and hurting until we acknowledge our history.

 Don't turn away. Read, educate yourself, get involved in being anti-racist. It's dangerous to think, say, believe, "I'm not racist". We live with our racialized history, it resides in our bones. We need to educate ourselves to be antiracist and work to dismantle racism.  It's an inner strength, a muscle to rebuild. I know it's  there, we need to practice to engage it. I work it more and more everyday.

And no, you can't take a picture of us and send it to the White House. 
We are not on display for you.
We are not a prop for you.
We are not objects, a curiosity.
We are not here to make you feel better.

Do your work. Do the hard work.

And I will continue to do mine


Suggestions for practice and action-if you want to "Combat Racism, Change the World and Become a Good Ancestor" read  "me and white supremacy" by Layla F. Saad and  "How to be an Antiracist" by Ibram X. Kendi.  Good places to begin and continue, one day at a time.


May we heal white supremacy. May we all be safe and free. May we all be loved. May we all know true justice.  For the benefit of all beings.