Thich Nhat Hanh, an amazing and inspiring Vietnamese monk, died last weekend at the age of 95. In this blog post I reflect on my experiences with him.
His talk at Smith College
I was a member of the Buddhist Peace Fellowship when I lived in the Amherst area from 1982-1986. The Fellowship invited him to give a talk at Smith College in 1984. After the talk, members of the committee had dinner with him at the home of a couple who were on the committee.
After dinner we were talking about our anger toward President Reagan and his policies that were increasing the threat of nuclear war. Thay, as he was also called, let us go on for a while, and then he quietly asked: "Does not anyone here have anger with people they live with?" We stopped short-he brought us back home! He added, "The only way to stop those wars (pointing outward) is to stop these wars (pointing inside to his heart). We first have to stop the wars inside ourselves, then the wars in our family, then the wars in our community. Only then can we hope to stop the wars between nations." I was so moved by listening to him and being in his presence that I don't think my feet touched down for several days!
Retreats at Omega
I attended two of his retreats at Omega Institute in 1993 and 1994. At both there was a Veterans "retreat within the retreat" where they worked with a teacher on healing their wounds through writing. At the end of the first retreat, they asked to share their experiences. One by one, the veterans basically vomited out their pain--failed marriages and jobs, addiction, and more. One of the veterans said, "isn't it ironic that I went to Vietnam to kill the g--ks (a derogatory term for the Vietnamese) and now over 20 years later one of them is helping to heal me?"
Many of the veterans came back the next year, and this time there was an invitation to dialogue on one of the porches on the last day. I had heartfelt conversations with several men, sharing my father's trauma from WW2 and the effects of his anger on our family and listening to more of their stories. I also apologized on behalf of many protestors who were abusive to veterans when they came back to the States.
Learning to let go of my anger
Over the years I did several more retreats with Thay and I took to heart what he had said that night in Northampton, especially with respect to my bad temper which came from my father. While my resolve to let go of anger has never wavered, progress has been slow but the frequency and intensity of my outbursts have decreased substantially.
Ajahn Chah, a wonderful Thai monk, said that "being a monk is knowing about letting go, but being unable to do so for ninety percent of the time." This helped me not to beat myself up so much. I also worked on forgiving myself, realizing that letting go and forgiving are related to each other and are not simple or easy processes to develop.
My biggest progress on the anger is a direct result of my aortic dissection 15 months ago, as I have had to go very slowly both for the healing of my aorta and because I had so little energy. My anger, and related emotions like resentment and irritation, still get triggered easily, so it is a daily practice to sense when anger arises. However, going more slowly enables me to notice the anger earlier which makes it easier to make better choices about how to respond to my anger. I think of Thay daily when I am more aware of moving more slowly.
I also say a simple grace before eating many of my meals, which is my adaptation of Thay's longer blessing:
This food is a gift of the universe.
I am grateful for having an abundance of such nutritious food.
I give thanks toward all beings that made this food possible.
I vow to work toward a world where there is no hunger.
Thay's stroke
Thay had a severe stroke in 2014. He was no longer able to speak, though he came to group sittings when he felt well enough. In 2015 I ran into a friend who, with his wife, co-founded Morning Sun Mindfulness Center, inspired by the years that they lived at Thay's Center in France. Several months earlier they had flown to France to visit Thay. I asked how Thay was doing even though he was no longer able to speak. Michael smiled deeply and said "he's doing some of his best teaching!" Like me, many people who have been with him speak of how simply being in his presence was a teaching, and that when meditating at a retreat you knew when he entered the room, not because you heard him enter, but because you felt him enter.
He is the most amazing human being I have ever been in the presence of.