'No Mud, No Lotus' - Page 50
When you look at a tree in a storm, if you focus your attention on the top of the tree, you’ll see the leaves and branches blowing wildly in the wind, and the tree will look so vulnerable, as though it could be broken at any time. But when you direct your attention down to the trunk of the tree, there is not so much movement. You see the stability of the tree, and you see that the tree is deeply rooted in the soil and can with stand the storm. When we experience a strong emotion, the mind is agitated like the top of the tree. We have to bring our mind down to the trunk, to the abdomen, and focus all our attention on the rise and fall of the abdomen.
from query to ChatGPT: on Oct 4
Thich Nhat Hanh frequently offers metaphors to illustrate how the breath can serve as a refuge in the midst of overwhelming emotions. One of the most well-known instances of this metaphor is found in his book Peace Is Every Step, where he describes the breath as an anchor that helps us remain grounded, especially when we feel emotionally swept away. He also discusses similar ideas in The Art of Living and No Mud, No Lotus. In these works, Hanh emphasizes the importance of mindful breathing to stay connected to the present moment and to cultivate inner calm.
The metaphor you mention, comparing emotions to the violent swaying of branches while the trunk remains steady, reflects Thich Nhat Hanh's teaching that mindful breathing helps us return to our core stability, much like the rooted trunk of a tree. The storm of emotions is natural and inevitable, but the breath is our refuge, allowing us to ride through turbulent experiences without being overwhelmed by them.
Bringing in Guanyin, the bodhisattva of compassion, offers a deepened perspective on this metaphor. Guanyin embodies both compassion and the power of deep listening. Her practice involves truly hearing and responding to the cries of the world. If we apply Guanyin's insight to Thich Nhat Hanh's metaphor, we can view our breath as not only a source of grounding but also an expression of self-compassion. By returning to our breath, we are, in essence, practicing deep listening to ourselves—tuning into our emotions without judgment or resistance. Just as Guanyin listens with boundless compassion, we too can listen to our inner storm with kindness, allowing the breath to calm and soothe, much like her presence would comfort those in distress.
This insight encourages a dual process: using the breath to stay rooted, and applying the spirit of compassionate listening to our inner emotional life, just as Guanyin would listen to the suffering of others. It is both a practical and compassionate approach to working with strong emotions.
Like a mountain: 山
