Thich Nhat Hanh - ‘Belly breathing to ride the storm' from Thich Nhat Hanh's 'The Art of Living'

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'The Art of Living' by Thich Nhat Hanh

"It is possible to use our breathing to embrace our strong emotions and experience relief. We are so vast, and our emotions are just one part of us; we are much more than our emotions. A strong emotion is like a storm that comes, stays a while, and passes. Everyone must learn to survive a storm. The practice of belly breathing is essential. Every time a strong emotion like anger, fear, sadness, or despair comes up, we should go back to our breathing right away so we can take care of the storm raging within us. We are like a tree in a storm. The top branches of the tree may be blowing wildly in the wind, but the trunk and roots are stable and firm. With belly breathing we bring our mind down to our trunk, our abdomen, where it is calm and stable. We should not stay high up in the branches, where we are blown about.

Internet Archive.org

'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 

Ram Dass - Words, word play

"Auspicious Arrival of Yong Tao" - Zhia Dao

 

This morning laughing together,

Just a few such days 

In a hundred.

After birds fly over South Gate, it's calm;

Invaders from the south 

Have withdrawn to the Lu River Wilds.

We walk on frosted ground 

Praising chrysanthemums bordering fields.

Sit on the east edge of the woods,

Waiting for the moon to rise.

Not having to be alone is happiness,

We do not talk of failure or success. 

Wallace Stevens: The Plain Sense of Things

 The Plain Sense of Things

Wallace Stevens - 1879-1955

After the leaves have fallen, we return
To a plain sense of things. It is as if
We had come to an end of the imagination,
Inanimate in an inert savoir.

It is difficult even to choose the adjective
For this blank cold, this sadness without cause.
The great structure has become a minor house.
No turban walks across the lessened floors.

The greenhouse never so badly needed paint.
The chimney is fifty years old and slants to one side.
A fantastic effort has failed, a repetition
In a repetitiousness of men and flies.

Yet the absence of the imagination had
Itself to be imagined. The great pond,
The plain sense of it, without reflections, leaves,
Mud, water like dirty glass, expressing silence

Of a sort, silence of a rat come out to see,
The great pond and its waste of the lilies, all this
Had to be imagined as an inevitable knowledge,
Required, as a necessity requires.

https://poets.org/poem/plain-sense-things

Portuguese Poet: Fernando Pessoa: A little larger than the entire Universe: Selected Poems

 

“Calm because I’m unknown, 
And myself because I’m calm, I want to fill my days 
With wanting nothing from them. For those whom wealth touches, Gold irritates the skin. For those on whom fame blows, Life fogs over. On those for whom happiness Is their sun, night will fall. But those who hope for nothing Are glad for whatever comes.”

― Fernando Pessoa, A Little Larger Than the Entire Universe: Selected Poems

Distant Regard by Tony Hoagland

Distant Regard

 by Tony Hoagland

If I knew I would be dead by this time next year, 

I believe I would spend the months from now till then 

writing thank-you notes to strangers and acquaintances, 

telling them, “You really were a great travel agent,”
or 

“I never got the taste of your kisses out of my mouth.”
or 

“Watching you walk across the room was part of my destination.”

It would be the equivalent, I think, 

of leaving a chocolate wrapped in shiny foil 

on the pillow of a guest in a hotel– 

“Hotel of earth, where we resided for some years together,”
I start to say, 

Before I realize it is a terrible cliche, 

and stop,
and then go on, forgiving myself in a mere split second.





Because now that I’m dying, I just go
forward like water, 

flowing around obstacles
and second thoughts, 

not getting snagged, just continuing
with my long list of thank-yous, 


which seems to naturally expand to include sunlight and wind, 

and the aspen trees which gleam and shimmer in the yard 

as if grateful for being soaked last night 

by the irrigation system invented by an individual 

to whom I am quietly grateful.

Outside it is autumn, the philosophical season, 

When cold air sharpens the intellect; 

The hills are red and copper in their shaggy majesty. 

The clouds blow overhead like governments and years.










It took me a long time to understand the phrase “distant regard,” 

but I am grateful for it now,
and I am grateful for my heart, 

that turned out to be good, after all; 

and grateful for my mind,
to which, in retrospect, 

I can see
I have never been sufficiently kind.

________

TONY HOAGLAND'S sixth book of poems, Priest Turned Therapist Treats Fear of God, will be issued by Craywolf Press in 2018.

He teaches at the University of Houston and is working on a craft book about poetry, called Five Powers, Forty Lessons. He has also published two collections of craft essays about poetry, Real Sofistakashun and Twenty Poems That Could Save America.

Drink, walk, breathe as if..

Drink your tea slowly, reverently
as if it is the axis on which the World Earth revolves, 
Slowly, evenly without rushing towards the future.

--Thich Nhat Hahn

Vigilance v. Negligence

Warren's talk tonight was marvelous.

We recited the Hakuin Wakan Zazenji..(?).
Then he talked about how 'the clear path is always in front of us...right in front of us.'

He spoke about vigilance, aka attentiveness as that 'which we are'... and that attentivness can help calm the 'turbulence'.  The same turbulence that we have lived with all our lives...so much so that we don't know that we have 'walked so many dark paths....continually as it were since we have been young.  The trubulance of thought, of the provoked emotions....the reactive self.  of fear, of desire, of unworthiness, of anger.  The light of attentiveness can calm us and open up spaciousness.   Recognize the feelings, observe them, but learn to let go of the reactive conditioned response..

We practice attentiveness to learn how to take the 'backwards step'.

'Those who are vigilant will experience the deathless;  those who are negligent are already as if dead'   Buddha supposedly said. this.  

Marion had a delightful description of the spaciousness that obtains when her time at Lake Superior is long enough to let the calm in.