The recent passing away of Thich Nhat Hanh has caused me to linger in some grateful recognition. Of course, the man's influence in terms of spirituality, psychology and activism, was great, but in terms of my current winter retreat, his example brings to mind the value and ongoing need for aspiration. Aspiration ('May I be...') provides an uplift that isn't goal-oriented. It channels desire (chanda), into required motivation. With aspiration we can transform the craving for achievement into an affirmation; without aspiration our hearts wither and sink. And Nhat Hanh (his specific name) set a blazing example of aspiration (and commitment) through non-violent activism, his support for refugees, and his Dhamma teachings . It was an example that touched the hearts of many and brought light into the world.
When I first came across Thich Nhat Hanh, it was via his book 'A Guide to Walking Meditation'.* I don't remember much of the text now, but it referred to connecting to the Earth as one walked, and walking slowly with a smile. One was encouraged to be aware of the trees, the sky the Earth and to extend impressions of walking on lotus blossoms ... of relating to the manifest world, enjoying it and generating positive impressions with regard to being in it. To make it the Pure Land.
However, what I found most memorable was the cover. It had a photograph of Nhat Hanh with a smile on his face, walking in a field holding a sunflower aloft in his right hand, like some kind of flag or totem. Flower-power? Yes, it did stir a recollection of the movement of the late 60s, which was the launching pad of my own spiritual quest. It had been tremendously strengthening to realize that there were other people who believed, like me, that harmlessness and loving kindness could heal humanity. That aspiration, shared and lived, created a culture, an environment based on goodwill, sharing and a return to more natural ways. For a while it seems like there was an entire generation following that theme.
As it happened that flower faded in the seventies (despite the aspirations, the movement had no adequate ethical training, and moneyed interests took over), but the aspiration is timeless. And it keeps manifesting in cultures and religions over the world as we attempt to realize and purify our shared environment. Its most striking example in Buddhist terms is in Pure Land Buddhism, which entails committing to, and even visualizing the Pure Land of Amitabha Buddha, complete with its celestial gardens and deities. The aim being to purify the heart and its relationship to what manifests. This Pure Land practice often accompanies the straight sitting in the Ch'an Buddhism that Thich Nhat Hanh had trained in. Bringing forth aspiration must have been part of his training from an early age.
But not for me. The inadequacies of mainstream Christianity removed any celestial realm from my perspectives and aims. So as the flowers faded, I headed East looking for an adequate spiritual training to take me deeper into myself – a pragmatic deepening down rather than a visionary rising up. A doorway to that opened in Thailand in 1975, when I stumbled into a monastery where I was instructed in a version of the Burmese satipaṭṭhāna meditation method. Apart from fixing attention onto the rising and falling of the diaphragm during the breathing process, this also included walking meditation. Such walking was practised by focusing on the feet, specifically on points in the process such as 'lifting', 'moving' , 'lowering' , 'touching' as a foot was very slowly raised off the floor, moved and lowered to the floor again. As with breathing, any phenomenon occurring other than that point was to be noted with a brief verbal label such as 'thinking', 'hearing', (or, with increased practice, 'aversion', 'frustration') before returning to the focal point. Any degree of feeling – 'pleasant' or 'unpleasant'– was also to be dealt with in like manner in order to firm up the focus on the very moment of the sensation occurring. This was said to lead to 'dry insight' a way that avoided the pitfall of lingering in the pleasurable mental quality that might arise as the mind settled down. Not that there was much of that.
As I later discovered, this was different from the early teachings of the Buddha, wherein agreeable and uplifting states were to be thoroughly felt and explored. In his teaching, Nhat Hanh's embellished that, adding aspirations to spread this happiness through the world. Walking peacefully, one would bring peace into the world.
As for my walking practice, the emphasis was on solitude with no conversation. No gatherings, no shared purpose. Pacing inside my 2.5 metres wide kuti, to avoid distractions – and mosquitoes – things did get more quiet. But externally, the environment was a rectangle of cement paths, void of charm with no affirming connection to the world. At one time, in an attempt to present an external image of something inviting and serene, I collected some large rocks and assembled a Zen-style rock garden. The abbot came by a with a few men and ordered it to be dismantled. Dry indeed.
Returning to Britain in 1978 and joining the small community training under Ajahn Sumedho was a welcome change of environment. Its internal mainspring wasn't one of microscopic attention in meditation, but of intentions of ethics and renunciation. Around that internal axis, behaviour was mediated in terms of relationship to the monastic community, the laity and the tradition. Meditation was geared towards letting go of the obsessive thinking that arose from programs of achievement, sense-desire, and negative self-image. Fortunately it was considered fine and indeed helpful to appreciate natural surroundings, and the chief non-self, Ajahn Sumedho, somehow manifested genial good-humour in the midst of all this sober stuff. And with the daily chanting to bring forth values and commitments, along with a huge amount of togetherness (alms-rounds, the meal, the daily work and the meditation were all communal) a livable aspiration environment grew to encourage an internal flowering.
As that aspiration environment became known as something that lay people could participate in, almost inevitably, and guided by Ajahn Sumedho's compassion, Amaravati, the 'Deathless Realm', arose. It was envisioned both as a centre to support lay people with retreats, and public occasions, and as a vihara for the nuns; bhikkhus were there to help out. Amaravati Buddhist Centre, as it was then called, encompassed interfaith meditation evenings, and offered opportunities for teachers from a range of traditions to teach retreats in its Retreat Centre. Even though we were shivering with cold in unheated rooms, it was a bright if chaotic time.
Thich Nhat Hanh visited Amaravati shortly after his book on walking meditation was being passed around, maybe in 1986 or 1987. By then I knew him to be a peace activist who had committed to non-violence in a country that had been in conflict for over twenty years, a conflict that had escalated to holocaust proportions. He was exiled for his pacifist views, but moved to the USA, where he lectured extensively, raised funds for refugee and children; eventually he founded Plum Village in France. Even that brief summary made it obvious that Nhat Hanh had plenty of spine and a strong heart to back up his smile. His expression was more withdrawn and impassive than that of the book cover; his speech was measured but he clearly didn't go along with our cherished Forest Tradition austerities: noting that it was our lunar all-night meditation vigil, he recommended that we take a rest and look after ourselves instead. But when I asked him about maintaining calm and compassion while his sangha were being attacked and even killed, his reply was steady. The practice of non-violence in the midst of conflict and loss made the heart 'like a diamond that no fire can burn.' It looked like he knew that personally. The War must have offered a Dhamma practice like no other.
Another victim of that war wrote of how Nhat Hanh had saved his life. Returning to the USA after combat in the Vietnam War, Claude Ashin Thomas was psychologically wrecked. Receiving scant sympathy or support in his home country, he had been directed to attend one of Nhat Hanh's talks about peace and reconciliation – and as a result of that, the Vietnamese community in the US offered the funds to send him to Plum Village in France. In the course of a few months, spending time in a community of safety and peace helped him to come to terms with his demons – every night he would be assailed with terror – and eventually determine to take on the life of a monk who led peace pilgrimages over the world.§ That's how important environment is – when you've given up on yourself and run out of road, that's where you can find orientation. Then if you stand up and live out its meaning, you find purpose.
I mention this during our three-month retreat period at Cittaviveka, because although the external setting is pretty idyllic and resonant with images and teachings, still you have to make an effort to internalize the environment. This is because your world depends on what your mind brings in. Which for those not familiar with a retreat isn't always good news, because in this situation, you are deprived of the input that would normally provide orientation, and (admittedly changeable) degrees of personal validity and well-being. This input comes not just through contact (I am affected) but also through interaction (I respond, I am valid) . In normal mainstream life, this interaction is generally fairly brisk, and carries the emotional charge of social contact, work, doing things and getting a result – as measured by an external environment. So the nervous system gets set to externally-based input and response, often at a rapid rate. Then to relax, one turns to music, socializing, jogging, computer games, sport, a hot bath, etc. Then, suitably refreshed, one is ready to go back to another set of external circumstances. It's a precarious balance.
But on a retreat all of that is gone. One receives the input of a mind that isn't supported by doing and having and making things happen. The land is beautiful, but you don't have to interact with it (although gardening days are offered here, to support interaction). Without interaction, the heart gets disoriented and restless, so it broods and mopes; it gets flooded with memories and uncertainties about the future; it worries about its identity and what others are thinking – and it doesn't know how to relax, clear and reset by engaging with and responding to its strengths and values. Thus it gets stuck in a flood of afflictive mind states that, because they seem permanent, familiar and intimate become 'me' 'myself'.
This scenario can also unfold outside of retreat. In daily life, if the world you live in doesn't offer relax-reset messages (and with constant media stimulation, there is no 'It's over, you're fine, relax' message) one gets stuck in the residues of what life throws at you. These are especially dire when there is constant pressure to achieve, to make a living and be happy in the midst of ever-present threat and a perilous future. It's worse in the case of someone who grows up adapting to a lack of welcome and safety: the nervous system is set to orange alert and generates performance drives in terms of appearance or activity in order to be acceptable. People get frantic; either that or sink into depression and meaninglessness. Being unable to access a ground of well-being and security in oneself, one doesn't relax and reset; instead one gets stressed, overwhelmed, depressed and reactive.
The turning point is a sign that arouses trust and faith: a person of truth (sappurisa), someone who stands for wisdom and compassion and who says you too can access these. You receive, feel the effect and are encouraged to respond. And the first response is to align to the spiritual Refuge and train in interaction based on simple moral precepts. These aren't laws or commandments, but aspirations: 'I undertake to train in not harming other living creatures' ... ' to train in refraining from misappropriating and manipulating'... 'in refraining from sexual abusiveness and stereotyping ...' 'in refraining from false or injurious speech' ... 'in refraining from intoxicants that blur the mind and promote carelessness'. To emphasize that these are to be contemplated in terms of effects on oneself and others, the Buddha presented them in terms of the environment that they generate. Take the precept to refrain from harmful speech:
one is [someone] who reunites those who are divided, a promoter of friendships, who enjoys ... rejoices [and] delights in harmony, a speaker of words that promote harmony. Abandoning harsh speech ... one speaks such words as are gentle, pleasing to the ear, and loveable, as go to the heart, are courteous, desired by many and agreeable to many. Abandoning gossip, one abstains from gossip; one speaks at the right time, speaks what is fact, speaks on what is good, speaks on the Way and the Training; at an appropriate time one speaks such words as are worth remembering, well-reasoned, moderate, and beneficial.” (M 27.13)
So you may not incline towards visualising lotus blossoms and smiling Buddhas, but with ethical aspiration, mindfully sustained, you gain the capacity to switch off the agitating 'What's the point?' 'I can't calm down' 'What am I supposed to do?' programs and reflexes.
I never saw Nhat Hanh again, and the sweetness of the approach on his books and talks didn't work for me. Diamonds are tough as well as bright, and I would have liked to have heard more of that - and of managing the pressure that creates them. Because looking deeply into a loved one's eyes is never going to work in the Monastic Forest Tradition; and equating the peace of nibbana to the gentle happiness of communing with the natural world doesn't quite ring true. However, for me Nhat Hanh's most important teaching ( and practice ) was on cultivating community. And in this respect, different expressions have value inasmuch as they meet individual ways of sustaining the aspiration environment. But the universal bedrock of that environment, in both imaginative and pragmatic terms, is the Precepts. In a world on fire with deceit, environmental abuse and bullying egotistical political leaders, they all serve to support our shared cosmos and enrich the heart. So it is: in my aspiration environment, the great champions of the spirit are still standing upright, steady and extending open hands.
***
*Thich Naht Hanh: A Guide to Walking Meditation (Nyack NY 1985, Fellowship Publications)
§ See: Claude Anshin Thomas At Hell’s Gate (Boston MA 2004, Shambhala Publications)
§ See: Claude Anshin Thomas At Hell’s Gate (Boston MA 2004, Shambhala Publications)
†Thich Nhat Hanh's renderings of these core Buddhist precepts is particularly impressive. See http://www.abuddhistlibrary.com/Buddhism/G%20-%20TNH/TNH/The%20Five%20Precepts/Five%20Wonderful%20Precepts.htm
