Days after Thich Nhat Hanh’s mother died he wrote in his journal:

“That night at about one a.m. I awoke and my grief was gone.  I saw that the idea that I had lost my mother was only an idea.  Being able to see my mother in my dream, I realized that I could see my mother everywhere.  When I stepped out into the garden flooded with soft moonlight, I experienced the light as my mother’s presence. It was not just a thought.  I could really see my mother everywhere, all the time.”

After this, he wrote a small book titled “A rose for your pocket” to help people appreciate the miracle of having a mother.

“Because you are alive, everything is possible.”

In my inevitable moments of suffering and struggle, I have so often turned to Thich Nhat Hanh.  His pillar work, Living Buddha, Living Christ, has been my greatest refuge and provided the clarity and peace I’ve needed a thousand times over.

“I always encourage them to practice in a way that will help them go back to their own tradition and get re-rooted. If they succeed at becoming reintegrated, they will be an important instrument in transforming and renewing their tradition.

When we respect our blood ancestors and our spiritual ancestors, we feel rooted. If we find ways to cherish and develop our spiritual heritage, we will avoid the kind of alienation that is destroying society, and we will become whole again. … Learning to touch deeply the jewels of our own tradition will allow us to understand and appreciate the values of other traditions, and this will benefit everyone.”

Each page is tatted and worn, the aftermath of being deeply cherished.

Again today I pause and send Thich Nhat Hanh as much loving-kindness as I can spare, in reverence to his work and his life.  He’s been with so many of us in our times of great need, let’s Bow and be with him today in his.   _/\_

 

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