hanoi, vietnam....day one

the crew....we all met in hanoi, coming from various countries: the u.k., canada, korea and the u.s.
thanks to jen's mad research skills and tour leading expertise, we had an amazing customized tour of vietnam and cambodia through haivenu tours....I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS LOCAL TOUR COMPANY! we were able to choose exactly what we wanted to do (visit a nuns' temple for a day, take a cooking class, go sailing on ha long bay, etc...). also, this tour company exhibited values that coincided with ours around environmental conservation and responsible tourism - making sure our money went into the local economy.our first stop was hoan kiem lake....legend has it that long, long ago an enormous turtle came up from under the water with a special sword in its mouth for the king....in the middle of the lake this pagoda marks the spot.
the pollution hanging in the air did not lift until the end of our visit.
this is actually a very mild clip of the traffic in hanoicheck out the powerlinesmany of the buildings in hanoi are very narrow and tall because property tax is based on how much ground a building covers, not how high up it goes.there are no traffic lights or pedestrian crosswalks to speak of so to cross the street, our guide told us to "be like fish in water...don't run or make any sudden movements...walk slowly....when in rome, do as the romans! the bikes will go around you." right, ok...right. much of the time we held hands, closed our eyes and simply hoped for the best.the maze of streets in the old quarter each bear a theme....below is a photo of "candy street." there's t-shirt street, shoe street, silk street, flower street, etc...produce marketthe ho chi minh mausoleum...the russians helped to build it, as you may notice a stark similarity between it and lenin's tomb in red square. ho chi minh made it clear that he wanted his ashes to be scattered in the countryside of vietnam when he died ("not only is cremation good from the point of view of hygiene, but it also saves farmland," he once said). but those in charge went against his wishes and shipped his body off to russia, as the russians had the technology at the time to embalm. still to this day ho chi minh's body lies in this building on display. many vietnamese seem to revere him with a god-like honor, but at the same time there is a down-to-earth, endearing quality as many fondly refer to him as "uncle ho."here we are at this lovely pagoda built over a lotus pond....a many-armed golden kuan yin inside...a breath of fresh air amidst the many monuments to kings, male warriors, and monks that we saw all over the placefresh lotus blossoms and incense prayers burning outside the pagoda...our guide informed us that many people come to this particular pagoda to pray for a son....despite the influence of the new generation, patriarchy in vietnam seems very much intact.all i could think of the leaning tower of pisa!!the opera house....in the french quarter
after that first day out in hanoi, i remember wondering to myself how i would make it there for a week....the over-stimulation of the traffic, the cacophony of noise, the smells, the extreme poverty at every turn, the state of acute alertness one had to be in at all times just to not be run over by a motorized vehicle. and i felt like i was literally choking on the air....the pollution like a dense fog....never had i seen or experienced such a thickness in the air that never seemed to lift. it was extremely sobering. it turned my thoughts very seriously to the present state and the future of this planet...to drastic changes that i will undoubtedly see in my lifetime. no longer was this level of pollution and poverty some sort of reality i had only read about or seen in films....i was in the middle of it, no blind eye left to turn.

before coming to hanoi, we were told that people in northern vietnam were not very open and friendly. there being various reasons for this, but after experiencing the level of traffic and pollution that everyone who lives there must deal with day in and day out, i wonder if the human body must shut down to a certain degree in order to survive it.....not to mention the history that the vietnamese people have with immense suffering and war.

"...and the palm trees grow (the air is thick)
like you said they do (i stick my finger)
and the water here (in it, tastes like)
is freon blue (rotten sky)

so i'm calling you (i think i might)
from a curtained stage (be sick)
in a strange cafe (i think i might)
on the strangest day (die)..."

(part of the lyrics to "freon blue" by copperwimmin)


my blog entry from january 8, 2008:
i am traveling through vietnam, cambodia, and thailand for the month of january. it is my hope to be able to post, but do not know how much access i will have to the internet....so far it's been minimal. i flew from seoul to hanoi on the fourth and met up with my peeps. we are on a guided tour through vietnam and cambodia (thank goodness, otherwise in our state of shock and overwhelm we'd most likely be on the first flight out).
this time in vietnam is clearly not going to be a relaxing vacation...rather it is an immensely educational, consciousness-raising experience....one that pushes my nervous system and psyche to the edge. i had no idea it would be like it is here. i had an idealized, rather ignorant view of things. the pollution alone is beyond what i've ever seen or imagined...i thought daegu, korea was bad...well, i will have a completely different perspective upon returning there. the air hangs heavy and thick like a grey haze above hanoi 24/7. we do not see the sun. when walking on the streets of the city, dodging the 2 million motorbikes, i feel like i'm breathing in air that is pure poison....lungs and throat burning. i realize what a bubble i have lived in back in the u.s. i see what is happening here and i wonder how on earth this level of environmental devastation is reversible.

wat hoppin'

i spent many hours today wandering from wat to wat (temple to temple)...bowing upon entry into each sanctuary, before each giant buddha statue...i began to feel curiosity about all the bowing i was doing...what exactly does this act mean to me right now?
i spent the day letting that inquiry float in and out through my experience...

as much as i love and feel devoted to practicing and studying the buddha's teachings, i do not identify as buddhist. i simply cannot get behind the age-old patriarchal storyline that men should have more power and privilege than women...even if the bearer of such news is dressed in monk's robes, head bowed, carrying an alms bowl. as i have visited more and more temples throughout asia, i have noticed an excessive amount of statuary to men and their power trips. when i come upon these areas within the temple complexes, i just have to roll my eyes and walk on by...i simply don't care to know any more about it. however, i whole-heartedly appreciate the temples and the buddhas for their quiet and their beauty...they feel like a refuge within an overgrown modernity...for the weary, over-stimulated body and the frantic, racing mind.
when i see a statue or image of the buddha i do not see a god, a savior, a lord, or even a man. i see equanimity, compassion, kindness, right mind and wise effort, concentration, peace...a mirror of all beings' true nature...and so i bow to that, out of the deepest gratitude within me...and for a moment the rest just melts away.

safe and sound in chiang mai

sawasdee kah! ("hello" in thai)

i'm now adventuring solo in chiang mai!

yesterday i flew here from bangkok...i got settled into the sweet "3 sisters b&b" in the heart of the old city. i'm still dealing with some intestinal issues, which entailed an emergency stop several days ago in the middle of NOWHERE on the island of koh phangan...we were on the hour-long bumpy backroads F150 ride...making our way from our secluded hotel back to the main town to catch the ferry...i desperately lurched from the truck and scampered off into the jungle, toilet paper roll in hand...i find that the older i get, the less pride i seem to have...i see this as a very positive thing, as norwegians are allotted 200 times more pride than most other human beings are given to begin with.
anyway, due to this bodily issue i have right now, i have not been rip-roaring around town as i might usually upon arrival to a new place. i have been sauntering slowly about...stopping for many water-sipping, people-watching breaks...leisurely hanging out at temples, striking up conversations with monks...going back to the b&b for rests...eating piles of bananas. i am enjoying this city immensely. it reminds me of ubud, bali...but not as crazy...sidewalks are solely for pedestrians (and some PARKED motorbikes!)...and they aren't caving in with areas where you could easily fall into the sewer.
tonight, as i was meandering back to my room after eating an intentionally simple dinner at the only middle-eastern restaurant in town, "jerusalem" (been craving hummus and warm pita bread since the day i left san francisco for korea five months ago), i heard some chanting...i followed my ears and found my way into a beautiful temple grounds. i sat down under the towering, willowy trees and the fullness of the moon and watched as a group of monks, in their flashing orange robes, followed by about twenty lay people, slowly circled a giant golden pagoda/chedi with four golden buddhas...each buddha facing in one of the four directions. every person circling carried a long-stemmed rose and several sticks of incense between their praying hands. when the chanting was finished each person lit their incense and placed their flower in a vase on the altar of one of the four buddhas. it was such a beautiful ritual...i sat there feeling so glad to be alive...so lucky to have witnessed such a moment...and as i settled into the quiet...all alone in an unfamiliar place...i felt nothing but safe...

playthings

from the bangkok post...

"child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all morning!
i smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.
i am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
perhaps you glance at me and think, 'what a stupid game to spoil your morning with!'
child, i have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies.
i seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver.
with whatever you find you create your glad games.
i spend both time and my strength over things i can never obtain.
in my frail cause i struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that i too am playing a game."

by: rabindranath tagore, the crescent moon

an extraordinary privilege

i am writing from the tiny island of koh phangan, off the coast of thailand...it is so quiet here...the only sounds are the ocean waves lapping at the shore...and the chirping and warbling of beings in the jungle.
having spent a week in veitnam and three days in cambodia, many perspectives i have held have widened immensely...some outrightly turned upside down. i feel as though the time i spent in those two countries alone educated me more than all of the stale hours in lutheran high school history class, which was of course taught from the white man's lens anyway.
yesterday i read a joanna macy article in the november 2007 issue of the shambhala sun magazine that seemed to hold all that i have seen and experienced on this new year's journey through parts of asia.

"it is an extraordinary privilege to be accorded a human life, with self-reflexive consciousness that brings awareness of our own actions and the ability to make choices. it lets us choose to take part in the healing of our world. gratitude for the gift of life is the primary wellspring of all religions, the hallmark of the mystic, the source of all true art...
that our world is in crisis - to the point where survival of conscious life on earth is in question - in no way diminishes the value of this gift... to us is granted the privilege of being on hand: to take part, if we choose, in the great turning to a just and sustainable society. we can let life work through us, enlisting all our strength, wisdom, and courage, so that life itself can continue. there is so much to be done, and the time is so short. we can proceed, of course, out of grim and angry desperation. but the tasks proceed more easily and productively with a measure of thankfulness for life; it links us to our deeper powers and lets us rest in them...
gratitude, when it is real, offers no blinders. on the contrary, in the face of devastation and tragedy it can ground us, especially when we are scared. it can hold us steady for the work to be done..."

and at the end of her article, joanna quotes rainer maria rilke:

"then all the work i put my hand to widens from turn to turn."

hanoi, vietnam

i am traveling through vietnam, cambodia, and thailand for the month of january. it is my hope to be able to post, but do not know how much access i will have to the internet....so far it's been minimal. i flew from seoul to hanoi on the fourth and met up with my peeps. we are on a guided tour through vietnam and cambodia (thank goodness, otherwise in our state of shock and overwhelm we'd most likely be on the first flight out).
this time in vietnam is clearly not going to be a relaxing vacation...rather it is an immensely educational, consciousness-raising experience....one that pushes my nervous system and psyche to the edge. i had no idea it would be like it is here. i had an idealized, rather ignorant view of things. the pollution alone is beyond what i've ever seen or imagined...i thought daegu, korea was bad...well, i will have a completely different perspective upon returning there. the air hangs heavy and thick like a grey haze above hanoi 24/7. we do not see the sun. when walking on the streets of the city, dodging the 2 million motorbikes, i feel like i'm breathing in air that is pure poison....lungs and throat burning. i realize what a bubble i have lived in back in the u.s. i see what is happening here and i wonder how on earth this level of environmental devastation is reversible.

"oh nobly born....

....remember your true being.
let go of the body of fear,
the small worries, the plans, the memories, the guilt
and be here in that radiant and dignified essence of your being."


-from a cd lecture series by jack kornfield: "buddhism for beginners"

new year's eve....

".....it's 3:23 in the morning
and I can't sleep
because my great great grandchildren
ask me in dreams
what did you do while the earth was unraveling?"

-excerpt from drew dellinger's poem: "hieroglyphic stairway"
found in his book "love letter to the milky way"

dinner with our therapists

one of my colleagues and i, both regulars at the physical therapy clinic, took our therapists out to dinner to a snazzy vietnamese restaurant "xin chao." here are jieun, mary and sungwoo...we made our own spring rolls with all kinds of fresh veggies...we were given two large bowls of warm water to moisten the rice paper - sungwoo willingly took on this job for all of us....we also had dim sum and a seafood noodle dish. i love the many interesting and palatable dipping sauces! maw-shee-sigh-yo!!! (delicious)jieun, jessa, and sungwoo...a little token of my appreciation!after dinner, we went to a sweet little winebar/coffeeshop "santorini" just a stone's throw from my apartment. we enjoyed our green tea lattes, hot lemonade, peppermint tea and cheesecake while engaging in some pretty funny conversations (with so much lost in translation)!!

the korean way of tea

"tea has five functions:

it quenches thirst.
it consoles the lonely heart.
it draws host and guests closer together.
it ensures good digestion.
it relieves a hangover.





tea has six virtues:

it bestows long life.
it heals disease.
it cheers the spirits.
it soothes the heart.
it purifies the mind.
it bestows propriety."
--yi mok, a scholar of the korean joseon dynasty (late 1400's)
























"the first bowl moistens my lips and throat,
the second bowl banishes all loneliness,
the third bowl clears my mind of words and books,
at the fourth cup, i begin to perspire and
life's troubles evaporate through my pores.
the fifth cup cleanses my entire being.
six cups and i am in the realm of the divine.
seven cups - ah, but i can drink no more:
i can only feel the gentle breeze blowing through my sleeves,
wafting me away to the isle of immortality!"

--lu tung, a poet of the chinese t'ang dynasty

--both quotations taken from the book: "the korean way of tea" by brother anthony of taize and hong kyeong-hee

royal hawaii

i went back for more soakin' and scrubbin' today. i decided to try out a public bathhouse in my neighborhood. royal hawaii. i walked in to find mass chaos in the locker room. a korean drama blasting on the television and naked little kids running around everywhere....moms, aunts, grandmothers all either yelling or chasing after them while at the same time trying to focus on the tv. sheesh. luckily, i made it to my locker safely and got undressed. one little girl kept peeking around the wall at me and as soon as i looked at her she hid and shreeked "meguk!! meguk!!" ("american, american!") i don't blame her really, westerners are not a common sight around gyeongsan, let alone naked ones....i'm sure i looked to her like a very strange, pale creature.
upon entering the bathing area, the vibe was much more calm. the kids had their separate shallow pools to play in....it was really sweet to see so many women of all ages sitting on the edges of the baths scrubbing each other down...strutting around or lounging naked is absolutely no big deal. as i was soaking i tried to imagine what it must be like to grow up in such a physical community of women who bathe together regularly....who relate with such ease to the body, scrubbing every inch of each other while chattering away....it was easy to notice how different my upbringing was....and i vividly remembered the first time i visited the baths at esalen in big sur, california, five years ago...the first time i got naked and bathed in community with others...it was the beginning of a profound liberation.i signed up for a full body scrub with the head agima who was about 65 years old and fit as a fiddle....once again wearing the uniform black lace bra and undies. this woman was serious business...no holds barred. she slapped me on the butt to turn me over, had me spread eagle, and didn't use any oil on my body - so the skin was coming off in sheets. by the end i was one big tingle. i have to admit, it hurt so good! and then to jump into the baths afterward.....oooohhhhh sooo THIS is part of the ecstacy of being in a human body!! my skin felt so alive.
after two hours of soaking, steaming and scrubbing i decided i better get home. having brought no hairdryer, i put my stocking cap over my wet hair, bundled up and caught the bus home...i had some dol sot bibimbap (with extra red hot pepper paste) at a nearby restaurant and then fell asleep for the entire afternoon on my couch! it was divine. when i woke up i felt so unlike doing ANYTHING at all that i put in miyazaki's film "spirited away" and relaxed for a couple of more hours! why haven't i had more days like this in my lifetime?!

viking warrior bodhichitta

"the raw courage of women without men lost in a fantastic hell-on-earth!" wow....fantastic is right...oh, and the sea serpent...how symbolic. anyway, i can't pinpoint the exact reason why i chose this poster to accompany this post, but it made me roll my eyes and i have been sick for so long now (almost six weeks) that rolling my eyes, all the way back into my head, is something of a common feeling these days......a deep, violent cough and total lack of energy have not wanted to let me go....but finally, finally i am feeling vitality coming back....i have started humming again....and entertaining the thought of getting dressed up for an afternoon on the town....

this is the first time in my life that i have felt physical weakness for such a prolonged period of time and actually asked myself "what if this doesn't get better anytime soon? who would i be if i felt like this every single day?" i have felt increased empathy for people who are chronically ill.

during this time, i have hit some pretty intense low points.....coming up against existential angst....wondering why on earth are we all alive anyway. there is so much suffering....why must we experience this? what's the point? there is so much struggle; and at that particular stage in the inquiry my struggle was to simply breathe without coughing up a bronchial tube. my strong-as-an-ox-norwegian-viking-warrior-self (similar to the scantily clad blonde women in the picture above.....um, yeah...right) has been encountering the ever-present, rarely acknowledged fragility of being human. i have been discovering that i have limits that i haven't paid much mind to before....i am not invincible, as previously assumed.

crossing the threshold of 30 has brought some slightly harrowing, coming-of-age realizations....there are indeed some pretty big-time limitations to living in a human body....some dreams may not be possible to manifest this time around, there are things that can't and won't turn out as one would hope, and all beings will most certainly die. there's no escaping any of it....not the pain, the disappointment, the sickness, the broken body and aching heart....the emotions that pass through...loneliness, grief and rage doing their infamous dance together, and the feelings of hopelessness and despair.....i have had glimpses of these inescapeable realities throughout my life....such as remembering my mortality and that of others, but the realness of it has almost always felt like a dream.....so far off from where i was standing.

as i sit here tonight....in the middle of winter, a seemingly archetypal time for such a pondering....i am looking behind me and i can see, waving farewell to me in the rearview mirror, my child-like belief that anything and everything is possible....that optimistic innocence....the belief that somehow there has to be a way to experience this human life without pain.....for most of my life, i thought god would take it all away, if i just followed all of his rules correctly....at least i could get into heaven where there was a guarantee of no misery...only streets of gold and songs of happiness....and it was easy at first to romanticize buddha's promise that there is the possibility of the cessation of suffering. yes....there they are, slowly fading away into the distance.....these steadfastly loyal parts of my consciousness that have held me through some very painful, terrifying times....these companions have stood guard, protecting a deep tender place inside that has felt frighteningly vulnerable, terribly at risk.....
but the winds of change do blow.....especially near the sea.....and in the last few years i have been graced with living into a different kind of wisdom that spaciously and truthfully holds this experience of humanness, with all its incredible suffering and complexities....in a way that allows the loyal soldiers to find moments where they can lay down their weapons and find peace....the beliefs and patterns of protection that keep the tender spot inside guarded and locked away long past the war being over.....but it is not easy.

and it is not linear.

"the buddha said, 'everything dear to us causes pain.' those of us who have chosen relational life have made the choice that the pain is worth it."

-sylvia boorstein, from her book, "it's easier than you think"

**********************************************************
an excerpt from "the places that scare you: a guide to fearlessness in difficult times" by pema chodron:

"When I was about six years old I received the essential bodhichitta teaching from an old woman sitting in the sun. I was walking by her house one day feeling lonely, unloved, and mad, kicking anything I could find. Laughing, she said to me, "Little girl, don't you go letting life harden your heart."

Right there, I received this pith instruction: we can let the circumstances of our lives harden us so that we become increasingly resentful and afraid, or we can let them soften us and make us kinder and more open to what scares us. We always have this choice.

If we were to ask the Buddha, "What is bodhichitta?" he might tell us that this word is easier to understand than to translate. He might encourage us to seek out ways to find its meaning in our own lives. He might tantalize us by adding that it is only bodhichitta that heals, that bodhichitta is capable of transforming the hardest of hearts and the most prejudiced and fearful of minds.

Chitta means "mind" and also "heart" or "attitude." Bodhi means "awake," "enlightened," or "completely open." Sometimes the completely open heart and mind of bodhichitta is called the soft spot, a place as vulnerable and tender as an open wound. It is equated, in part, with our ability to love. Even the cruelest people have this soft spot...

Bodhichitta is also equated, in part, with compassion—our ability to feel the pain that we share with others. Without realizing it we continually shield ourselves from this pain because it scares us. We put up protective walls made of opinions, prejudices, and strategies, barriers that are built on a deep fear of being hurt. These walls are further fortified by emotions of all kinds: anger, craving, indifference, jealousy and envy, arrogance and pride. But fortunately for us, the soft spot—our innate ability to love and to care about things—is like a crack in these walls we erect. It's a natural opening in the barriers we create when we're afraid. With practice we can learn to find this opening. We can learn to seize that vulnerable moment—love, gratitude, loneliness, embarrassment, inadequacy—to awaken bodhichitta.

An analogy for bodhichitta is the rawness of a broken heart. Sometimes this broken heart gives birth to anxiety and panic, sometimes to anger, resentment, and blame. But under the hardness of that armor there is the tenderness of genuine sadness. This is our link with all those who have ever loved. This genuine heart of sadness can teach us great compassion. It can humble us when we're arrogant and soften us when we are unkind. It awakens us when we prefer to sleep and pierces through our indifference. This continual ache of the heart is a blessing that when accepted fully can be shared with all.

The Buddha said that we are never separated from enlightenment. Even at the times we feel most stuck, we are never alienated from the awakened state. This is a revolutionary assertion. Even ordinary people like us with hang-ups and confusion have this mind of enlightenment called bodhichitta. The openness and warmth of bodhichitta is in fact our true nature and condition. Even when our neurosis feels far more basic than our wisdom, even when we're feeling most confused and hopeless, bodhichitta—like the open sky—is always here, undiminished by the clouds that temporarily cover it.
Given that we are so familiar with the clouds, of course, we may find the Buddha's teaching hard to believe. Yet the truth is that in the midst of our suffering, in the hardest of times, we can contact this noble heart of bodhichitta. It is always available, in pain as well as in joy.

A young woman wrote to me about finding herself in a small town in the Middle East surrounded by people jeering, yelling, and threatening to throw stones at her and her friends because they were Americans. Of course, she was terrified, and what happened to her is interesting. Suddenly she identified with every person throughout history who had ever been scorned and hated. She understood what it was like to be despised for any reason: ethnic group, racial background, sexual preference, gender. Something cracked wide open and she stood in the shoes of millions of oppressed people and saw with a new perspective. She even understood her shared humanity with those who hated her. This sense of deep connection, of belonging to the same family, is bodhichitta....

Those who train wholeheartedly in awakening unconditional and relative bodhichitta are called bodhisattvas or warriors—not warriors who kill and harm but warriors of nonaggression who hear the cries of the world. These are men and women who are willing to train in the middle of the fire. Training in the middle of the fire can mean that warrior-bodhisattvas enter challenging situations in order to alleviate suffering. It also refers to their willingness to cut through personal reactivity and self-deception, to their dedication to uncovering the basic undistorted energy of bodhichitta. We have many examples of master warriors—people like Mother Teresa and Martin Luther King—who recognized that the greatest harm comes from our own aggressive minds. They devoted their lives to helping others understand this truth. There are also many ordinary people who spend their lives training in opening their hearts and minds in order to help others do the same. Like them, we could learn to relate to ourselves and our world as warriors. We could train in awakening our courage and love...

Wherever we are, we can train as a warrior. The practices of meditation, loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity are our tools. With the help of these practices, we can uncover the soft spot of bodhichitta. We will find that tenderness in sorrow and in gratitude. We will find it behind the hardness of rage and in the shakiness of fear. It is available in loneliness as well as in kindness.

Many of us prefer practices that will not cause discomfort, yet at the same time we want to be healed. But bodhichitta training doesn't work that way. A warrior accepts that we can never know what will happen to us next. We can try to control the uncontrollable by looking for security and predictability, always hoping to be comfortable and safe. But the truth is that we can never avoid uncertainty. This not knowing is part of the adventure, and it's also what makes us afraid.

Bodhichitta training offers no promise of happy endings. Rather, this "I" who wants to find security—who wants something to hold on to—can finally learn to grow up. The central question of a warrior's training is not how we avoid uncertainty and fear but how we relate to discomfort. How do we practice with difficulty, with our emotions, with the unpredictable encounters of an ordinary day?

All too frequently we relate like timid birds who don't dare to leave the nest. Here we sit in a nest that's getting pretty smelly and that hasn't served its function for a very long time. No one is arriving to feed us. No one is protecting us and keeping us warm. And yet we keep hoping mother bird will arrive.

We could do ourselves the ultimate favor and finally get out of that nest. That this takes courage is obvious. That we could use some helpful hints is also clear. We may doubt that we're up to being a warrior-in-training. But we can ask ourselves this question: "Do I prefer to grow up and relate to life directly, or do I choose to live and die in fear?"

All beings have the capacity to feel tenderness—to experience heartbreak, pain, and uncertainty. Therefore the enlightened heart of bodhichitta is available to us all. The insight meditation teacher Jack Kornfield tells of witnessing this in Cambodia during the time of the Khmer Rouge. Fifty thousand people had become communists at gunpoint, threatened with death if they continued their Buddhist practices. In spite of the danger, a temple was established in the refugee camp, and twenty thousand people attended the opening ceremony. There were no lectures or prayers but simply continuous chanting of one of the central teachings of the Buddha:

Hatred never ceases by hatred
But by love alone is healed.
This is an ancient and eternal law.

Thousands of people chanted and wept, knowing that the truth in these words was even greater than their suffering.

Bodhichitta has this kind of power. It will inspire and support us in good times and bad. It is like discovering a wisdom and courage we do not even know we have. Just as alchemy changes any metal into gold, bodhichitta can, if we let it, transform any activity, word, or thought into a vehicle for awakening our compassion."

prayer for the world

silkscreen by san francisco artist: nancy hom

happy holidays....

james taylor with the dixie chicks singing "sweet baby james."

"listen to the story told by the reed of being separated...

since i was cut from the reedbed,
i have made this crying sound.
anyone apart from someone he loves
understands what i say.
anyone pulled from a source
longs to go back.
at any gathering i am there,
mingling in the laughing and grieving,
a friend to each, but few
will hear the secrets hidden
within the notes. no ears for that.
body flowing out of spirit,
spirit up from body: no concealing
that mixing. but it's not given us
to see the soul. the reed flute
is fire, not wind. be that empty."

by: rumi
from: the essential rumi
translated by: coleman barks