Rescue Remedy

I had a really bad weekend. Well, it wasn't all bad, but for someone who is generally spreading sunshine everywhere I go, and always seeing the bright side of everything, the silver lining in every cloud, etc...well, "Into every life a little rain must fall," I guess.

The good news is that someone else took their turn to spread the sunshine into my life, and I was most grateful to get it. I was feeling pretty alone, but I checked my Facebook news feed; and there was Thich Nhat Hanh with his hand held out and ready to give me a lift. He had shared a prayer from his blog "Touching the Earth // Guided meditations from the Thich Nhat Hanh book 'Touching The Earth.' ". When I clicked the "Play" button on the sound file, a tone sounded, and then he began the guided meditation. It was generally about how the Earth has the capacity to absorb everything back into itself, to rescue human beings from bad "places" or states. At the sound of the tone I immediately felt myself focus and begin to calm. Then I was able to listen to the words. I was more relaxed, calm and at peace than at any other time during this "bad" weekend. I was (and am) extremely grateful to Thich Nhat Hanh for being there (if only in cyberspace) at precisely the moment I needed to be "rescued" from my bad mood.

Who is Thich Nhat Hanh? He is a Thien Buddhist of the Lâm Tế Dhyana (Linji Chanzong) of Buddhism, and founder of the Order of Interbeing. I learned of him through his wonderful book, "Living Buddha, Living Christ," in which he helps us to understand how Buddhists and Christians are essentially after the same things. (It's a good read. I highly recommend it.)

Some (perhaps many) Christians would start praying for my salvation at this point, since I'm taking prayers and advice from a Buddhist. But they would be misguided. In the 9th book of Mark, verses 38-40, John is all upset because he's seen someone casting demons out of people in Jesus' name, "but I told him not to, because he doesn't follow us." Jesus tells John not to forbid anyone to do good in his name, whether he follows Jesus or not, because doing good for others is a worthy pursuit, and it does the cause of Jesus and his followers no harm.

This is exactly the sort of connection Thich Nhat Hanh makes in his book, "Living Buddha, Living Christ"; and it's exactly the sort of kindness that Thich Nhat Hanh did for me this evening. There were no Christians around when I needed to have my "demons" cast out, but Thich Nhat Hanh was available, and he got the job done. Now I am back in the center of the narrow way, calm and peaceful, able to focus on what's important, thanks to a Buddhist monk. I prayed along with the meditation and felt the peace that passes all understanding. I am certain that Jesus doesn't mind a bit that it wasn't someone from Church who performed this service for me.

Today I was reminded by a Buddhist to thank God for rescuing me; and that there is always help, sometimes from places we least expect to find it. I am grateful for Thich Nhat Hanh, and I am grateful for the words of Jesus in Mark that remind us that we are all connected. Life is good, and I am grateful.

Every thought is a prayer. Every action is a meditation.

Photograph by Jonathan Aspensen.

I used to beat myself up a lot for not praying the way I thought I should. Of course the way I thought I should was the way someone or another had taught was the "right" way to pray. Some teach that you have to do it at a certain time of day; some that you have to say it a certain way; others that you must pray in a language that even you don't understand, and that if you don't then that's evidence you haven't been "anointed by the Holy Spirit," and therefore haven't been "saved."

What I finally figured out was that Jesus already dealt with all of that in his teachings, and made it really, really simple:

5 And when you pray, don't be like the hypocrites: for they love to stand and pray in churches and on the street corners, so everyone will see them. But I'm telling you, the attention they get while they're putting on such a spectacle is their reward. 6 But when you pray, do it privately and where no one can see you, praying to God who meets you in the solitude of your secret place, and receive your reward accordingly. 7 And don't just say the same old tired prayers over and over again, because it's not a contest to see who can say a memorized prayer the most times. 8 So don't be like them: God knows what you need before you even ask. (Matthew 6:5-8, BHTL version)

A few weeks ago, one of my colleagues gave a Japanese Sumi-e painting demonstration for my Art Club students. He explained to them that Sumi-e painting isn't just a watercolor painting technique, but a meditation; and each step in the process of Sumi-e painting is a meditation in itself. Grinding the pigment. Mixing the paint. Visualizing the finished painting. Loading the brush with paint. Making the brush strokes.

I had put on some traditional Japanese Koto and Shakuhachi music to get us all in the mood, and the students were nothing less than enraptured. When it was their turn to try the painting, it struck me that they all looked like they were praying. They didn't have their eyes closed, but they were very still and focused, pictures of intense concentration.

Photograph by Jonathan Aspensen

This past Thursday my husband and I went to Washington, D.C. to see the Cherry Blossoms on the peak day. This is the third year in a row that we have done this. As we walked around the tidal basin (which takes about an hour and a half), we saw some Buddhist monks who were there enjoying the blossoms as well. On any given day in D.C. you will see many people from many countries taking in the sites. Somehow seeing the monks brought to my mind the reality that enjoying the beauty of the Cherry Blossoms, the sunshine, the mild breeze and pleasant temperature--all of these things were a kind of prayer. The monks were praying. I was praying. Everyone was praying.

In the same way that the grinding of the pigment for Sumi-e painting is a meditation, every step I took around the tidal basin was a meditation. Every breath was a prayer, breathing in (thank you), breathing out (thank you). I was immersed in the beauty of creation, grateful to God and the Japanese Mayor Yukio Ozaki of Tokyo who gave us the trees, and grateful to the trees themselves for persevering through the 3 feet of snow that was on the ground just a month and a half ago (many of them had lost low-hanging limbs to the weight of the snow, which had to be cut off, but the trees were as beautiful and hearty as ever).

Even in the public place of the tidal basin, I was able to meet God in the solitude of my secret place, that place inside of me where the "still small voice" resides when I am quiet enough to hear it. Every silent, internal "thank you" was rewarded with yet more beautiful blossoms to enjoy, more soothing breezes, more sunshine, still more beauty. I most definitely received my reward, and it was so worth it.

You may not be able to enjoy the Cherry Blossoms, but there is beauty all around us. A bird on the windowsill in the grayest of concrete cities. A dandelion growing through the crack in a sidewalk. A smile on the face of a friend. The kindness of a stranger. These are all ways that our great Creator whispers "I love you" to us, and when we take notice of the beauty and say "thank you" back from the solitude of our secret place, we are praying. When we breathe in the beauty around us, and exhale our gratitude, we are meditating on the greatness of God.

Life is good. Be grateful, and be happy.