A Chan Student’s Guide to Buddhism’s famed Heart Sutra

 A Chan Student’s Guide to Buddhism’s famed Heart Sutra

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For a long time, in my daily life and on Chan and Zen retreats, I had absolutely no clue what I was repeating when chanting Buddhism’s famous Heart Sutra — it was just words without any correlation to my practice or my life. Yet my heart has been pushing me to repeat and contemplate it, until I fully understand its wisdom; that’ll be a lifetime of study and effort, I’m sure! 

So I’m not saying I fully understand it yet. I am not a Buddhist scholar. But I’m a serious practitioner — and did get my bachelor’s in religious studies — and would like to offer some insight to this ancient sutra that might benefit your life and your practice. 

First, let’s look at the English Heart Sutra translation I am most familiar with, which comes from the Dharma Drum Chan Buddhist lineage of Master Sheng Yen.

The Prajnaparamita Heart Sutra

When the Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara
was coursing in the deep Prajnaparamita,
he perceived that all five skandhas are empty,
thereby transcending all sufferings.
Sariputra, form is not other than emptiness
and emptiness not other than form.
Form is precisely emptiness and emptiness precisely form.

So also are sensation, perception, volition, and consciousness.
Sariputra, this voidness of all dharmas
is not born, not destroyed,
not impure, not pure, does not increase or decrease.
In voidness there is no form,
and no sensation, perception, volition or consciousness;
no eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind;
no sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, thought;
there is no realm of the eye
all the way up to no realm of mental cognition.
There is no ignorance and there is no ending of ignorance
through to no aging and death and no ending of aging and death.
There is no suffering, no cause of suffering,
no cessation of suffering, and no path.
There is no wisdom or any attainment.
With nothing to attain, Bodhisattvas relying on Prajnaparamita
have no obstructions in their minds.
Having no obstructions, there is no fear
and departing far from confusion and imaginings,
they reach Ultimate Nirvana.
All past, present and future Buddhas,
relying on Prajnaparamita, attain Anuttara-Samyak-Sambodhi.
Therefore, know that Prajnaparamita
is the great mantra of power,
the great mantra of wisdom, the supreme mantra,
the unequalled mantra,
which is able to remove all sufferings.
It is real and not false.
Therefore recite the mantra of Prajnaparamita:
Gate, Gate, Paragate, Parasamgate, Bodhi Svaha. 

Upon first chanting or reading this, especially with no prior Buddhist background or study, this can all be overwhelmingly unclear and confusing! So let’s consider the wording throughout the sutra. 

When the Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara
was coursing in the deep Prajnaparamita,

I still remember the first time I chanted this on my very first retreat, fumbling around with the pronunciations of Bodhisattva and Avalokiteshvara. “What am I even saying?” I thought to myself. Eventually, I learned the meaning of the first line. “Bodhisattva” literally translates to ”awakened being,” someone who is not only wise but also compassionate, willing to spend their entire life (or perhaps many lifetimes) easing the suffering of the world. Avalokiteshvara (known as Guanyin in Chan Buddhism) is the bodhisattva of compassion whose name literally translates to “the one who hears the cries of the world,” sometimes depicted with many arms, each one reaching out to ease the suffering of the world. 

I personally don’t believe in deities or gods, so my understanding of Avalokiteshvara is that he is a personification of the potential for infinite compassion that already exists within us all. I am not praying to some god outside of myself, but to my own inherent ability for unlimited and unconditional compassion. Much like an acorn that has the potential to become a great oak tree, each one of us has the possibility of becoming a wise, compassionate being like Avalokiteshvara. Buddhists call this “Buddha-nature,” and I have found this concept to be quite helpful for my life. Growing up Catholic, I had the belief that I was born a sinner and needed to be saved by someone outside myself. Buddha-nature flips this concept around and reminds us that we are all born with basic goodness, but due to an innocent misperception of reality, we don’t always recognize it. This sutra, along with our dedicated practice, reminds us that if we tend the garden of our hearts and minds, we too can liberate ourselves from our suffering and become a bodhisattva who can help heal this broken world.

Then comes the second half of that first sentence. Coursing in the deep, what in the what now? Prajnaparamita means for the perfection of wisdom, or perfect wisdom. So, putting it all together, this great compassionate being was resting deeply in perfect wisdom; completely free at home in their true nature. 

Over the years, I’ve come to realize that this perfect wisdom is already who we are. This has simplified my practice tremendously, as early on, I used to practice feverishly for enlightenment. I was hoping for some awakening outside of my direct experience; some blissful explosion that would somehow magically fix my life. Although transformational experiences have happened, they – like all things – have come and gone, and they surely didn’t fix everything I believed was wrong with my life. Over the years of reflecting on this sutra, I eventually realized what I’ve been searching for has been here the entire time. Like a fish swimming around searching for the Great Ocean, I have been intimately connected to what I’ve been looking for all along. This realization, which continues to deepen, has allowed me to relax into my life, warts and all, and recognize that it’s all an expression of the awakened mind. Although I’m nowhere near enlightened, I’ve definitely learned to rest a little more deeply in what I call a profound okayness that lies just beneath the chaos of my everyday life.

he perceived that all five skandhas are empty,
thereby transcending all sufferings.

The five skandhas are form, sensation, perception, volition, and consciousness. Put another way, that may be more helpful: form is our body. Sensations are the feeling tones of any particular object we experience through our senses that are either pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. Perception is our mind’s ability to remember, recognize, and categorize the world around us. Volition is all the mental activity that arises in our minds (memories, judgments, expectations, storylines, etc.), and consciousness is that which knows experience; the silent observer that bears witness to every moment of our lives.

Although it’s pretty easy to understand what the five skandhas are, it’s another thing to decipher what the sutra means by them being empty: My body is empty? Empty of what? Empty of a solid, unchanging, separate self. Typically, we cling to this body and mind and believe that these experiences are who we are. We have a body, and we feel “I am this body,” or at the very least that there is some solid entity that is the owner of the body. But through deep investigation in meditation, we begin to see that things are not necessarily the way that we think they are. 

Where in your body can you locate some unchanging essence that you can call “me” or “mine”? Ever since it was born, your body has been in a constant state of change. We constantly lose skin cells, and even cut our hair and nails, often with no loss to this sense of self. Are we located in our bones? Skin? Organs? When we really observe deeply, we begin to see that “I” cannot be found anywhere in the body. 

Not only can we not find any sense of self in the body, the body itself follows its own nature of change, subject to aging, illness, and death. Although there is some volition in how we decide to move this body, ultimately most of its functions are out of our conscious control: think of your heartbeat or your digestive process. These functions follow their own nature and are empty of some solid self pulling the strings.

Alternatively, instead of the word empty, it may be useful to try “boundless” or even “not independently arising.” Rather than saying the body is empty of a self, we can say the body is boundless and doesn’t arise independently of non-body causes and conditions. 

This isn’t as confusing as it sounds. In order to have a body, there needs to be oxygen for the body to breathe. Oxygen depends on trees, which depend on soil, rain, the sun, and the atmosphere. If one of these non-body conditions vanishe,d there wouldn’t be a body. We can’t have a body without all the proper causes and conditions that allow it to arise in the first place. In this way, the body is boundless because its existence depends on infinite causes and conditions. This body is an expression of the universe being exactly the way it is. If one condition were different, the body wouldn’t be here. If the Earth were closer to or further from the sun, the conditions wouldn’t be optimal for life, hence there would be no body. 

Now, if this all seems very confusing, please don’t worry. What is trying to be expressed is beyond words and intellect. The important point is to contemplate, investigate, experience, and realize it for yourself. 

The last part of this section declares that Avalokiteshvara is now free from all sufferings. How is this possible? Because all of our suffering comes from believing in and living from this solid sense of self. I call this delusion “Me-world,” and define it as the self-centered part of the mind that filters every experience we have. The main theme of Me-world is, “What does this have to do with me?” If it’s pleasant, we want more. Unpleasant, we want to destroy or avoid it. And so we go through life limited by this small filter that has been conditioned by our lives. Once we are able to realize that this self we think we are isn’t as real and solid as we believe it to be, there is immense freedom, ease, and joy.

I have found reflecting on the emptiness of self to be quite liberating, especially when in the middle of a stressful or painful mind state. In moments of suffering – if I’m lucky enough to remember to practice – I pause and reflect on the experience I’m having. Who is it that’s mad at this moment? Is my hair upset? My fingernails? Bones? Organs? Where is this solid, unchanging person that’s creating this issue? No matter how many times I contemplate this, I never find the self I’m looking for. There’s definitely an experience happening, yet the self having that experience is nowhere to be found. Much like a rainbow which exists based on certain causes and conditions, but cannot be found upon searching for it, my self seems to always elude me when I look for it. Realizing the fluidity of the moment and the lack of any self-existence in my thoughts and feelings, which are coloring the moment, my mood lightens, and there is a softening that happens. From this “still point of the turning world,” as TS Eliot once wrote, I’m able to respond to the moment out of wisdom rather than blindly react from my limited conditioning. I’m not saying I have freed myself from all my sufferings, but I’ve definitely reduced some.

Sariputra, form is not other than emptiness
and emptiness not other than form.
Form is precisely emptiness and emptiness precisely form.                        

So also are sensation, perception, volition, and consciousness.

(Sariputra is the name of one of the Buddha’s original disciples, known for his sharp intellect and deep wisdom. This whole sutra is a dialogue between Avalokiteshvara and Sariputra, and I don’t find that to be a coincidence. As I see it, one represents the heart, the other the mind or wisdom. The meeting of wisdom and compassion is not only the essence of this sutra, but is at the heart of all Buddhist practice.)

The next lines further the point made above. Not only is our body boundless and empty of some solid, unchanging entity, but so are the sensations, perceptions, volition, and consciousness. Each of these skandhas are just like the body, all arising due to their own specific causes and conditions. Pleasant sensations, for example, have no sense of self and are simply an expression of certain causes and conditions. If we take a bite of a cookie, the sugar hits the taste buds, which (for most of us) generates a pleasant experience. Perceptions and mental activity generate in the same way. We can only name things in a language that was taught to us. And how our minds respond to what we are experiencing is also conditioned by many factors outside of us, and all of this is subject to change. If I love cookies and eat so much that I throw up, the next time I see a cookie, it may not be a pleasurable experience. The belief that I love cookies may change, now that I’ve gotten sick from eating them. Because the belief changes, so do the cravings and desires associated with it. In this way, there is no self that’s doing all of this, but rather conditions are constantly interacting and playing themselves out.

This all makes sense for the body and mind, but what about consciousness? Isn’t that who we are? Can’t we find a self there? 

Although I won’t argue that it sure does feel like I am the awareness which knows, it’s not actually the case. In fact, as soon as I say that I am aware, I’ve already added a thought on top of the immediate experience of awareness. 

I once heard someone call awareness the “ownerless open,” and I absolutely love that because it’s a perfect expression of consciousness. Ownerless, because no one owns the clarity and luminosity of mind, and open because, like the sky which can hold any amount of storms without being affected, awareness can do the same as it holds all the changing conditions of our lives. As Tara Brach once said, “However it is, there’s room for it.” So, although there is an experience of knowing, there isn’t a solid, unchanging knower that owns it. Consciousness is simply what is, not me or mine. In my own practice, I’ve found that simply pausing and resting in this silent witness, “Buddho” as they would say in the Thai Forest Buddhist Tradition, can be profound and transformative. Once I really got the sense of Brach’s message, I realized at any given moment I could pause and hold things just the way they were. Having a stressful full-time job, along with being a husband and father of four young children, I can’t tell you how many times I simply stop what I’m doing and bear witness to the moment just the way it is. Although not a magic pill by any means – I still usually feel the frustration or stress – there is a sense of relief and coolness that can help refocus my attention and bring me back to the situation from a calm, more balanced space. 

Sariputra, this voidness of all dharmas
is not born, not destroyed,
not impure, not pure, does not increase or decrease.

This verse continues the theme of boundlessness. Because there isn’t one thing that exists separate from everything else, nothing is actually born or destroyed. Anything experienced in this life is an empty, temporary expression of the whole body of life. There is no pure or impure, no coming or going, no increasing or decreasing, but instead the ever-changing play of the one body of the universe. 

In voidness there is no form,
and no sensation, perception, volition or consciousness;
no eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind;
no sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, thought;
there is no realm of the eye
all the way up to no realm of mental cognition.

The sutra repeats what we’ve been saying all along, that everything that makes up who we think we are is not actually how we imagine it to be. Here we go through the six realms that make up our experience and find them all negated. At any given moment, we experience our lives through the six sense doors. Each sense door has its own consciousness, which experiences the six realms that make up our lives. There is the eye, eye consciousness, and sights; the ear, ear consciousness, and sounds; nose, nose consciousness, and smells; etc. Any moment of life has these six realms of experience. Why would the sutra negate them?

It is helpful here to consider the Buddhist concept of the relative and the absolute. Since this whole sutra represents an enlightened being’s expression of perfect wisdom, we are speaking about the absolute; the one body of the universe, the True Self, the Big Mind. From this perspective, there is oneness. And actually, to say all is one still doesn’t capture the actual truth because oneness implies duality, where oneness in truth has no duality. In this sense, the true oneness is actually zero, hence the negation found in the sutra. What’s true is impossible to contend with via only concepts and words, which is why the sutra refers to everything in the negative sense. 

When chanting many of these lines, especially the part which mentions the six senses, I like to go slowly through it and feel and experience each body part, and wonder what the sutra is pointing to. For example, when I get to “no sight, sound…” I pause for a moment and experience both sights and sounds, and rest in the wonder of what I’m chanting. Avalokiteshvara is saying there are no sights and sounds, yet at this moment, I am experiencing both. What could this mean? I like to think of this sense of wonder (or “great doubt” as they call it in the Chan / Zen tradition) as a tea bag steeping in hot water: While I repeat the sutra with this sense of doubt, I let its mystery steep in my heart and mind until it infuses me. If we practice in this way, over time,e the understanding will begin to be experienced directly.

There is no ignorance and there is no ending of ignorance
through to no aging and death and no ending of aging and death.
There is no suffering, no cause of suffering,
no cessation of suffering, and no path.
There is no wisdom or any attainment.
With nothing to attain, Bodhisattvas relying on Prajnaparamita
have no obstructions in their minds.

As the sutra goes on, it even begins negating the foundational teachings of Buddhism: Ignorance as the cause of our suffering, the Buddha’s four noble truths, dependent origination, and the attainment of wisdom. Does this mean that it’s all a waste of time and nothing matters? Not at all. Again, this seems to be the experience of life on the absolute level. Of course, we have a life that begins and ends, and in between there is a path we must walk and cultivate. Yet, on the other hand, there is simply this moment: the one body of life, perfect exactly as it is. This holding of both the relative and the absolute reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from the Lankavatara Sutra, “Things are not what they seem, nor are they otherwise.” An old Zen saying explains similarly, “In the beginning, mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers; later on, mountains are not mountains and rivers are not rivers; and still later, mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers.” I reflect on these teachings often, understanding that on one level, I’m Mark and I have my life to live, yet at the same time, I’m not Mark at all, but rather an expression of the entire cosmos. I try my best to live my life with this understanding, taking it absolutely seriously, while also living light-heartedly, understanding that everything I take to be solid and real, actually doesn’t exist the way it seems (nor is it otherwise!). 

Having no obstructions, there is no fear
and departing far from confusion and imaginings,
they reach Ultimate Nirvana.
All past, present and future Buddhas,
relying on Prajnaparamita, attain Anuttara-Samyak-Sambodhi.
Therefore, know that Prajnaparamita
is the great mantra of power,
the great mantra of wisdom, the supreme mantra,
the unequalled mantra,
which is able to remove all sufferings.
It is real and not false.

If throughout our entire lives we’ve been afraid of a boogeyman in our closet, and finally realize that there wasn’t ever one there to begin with, instantly all our fear should disappear. In the same way, when we get a glimpse of the emptiness or boundlessness of our experience, instantly we recognize freedom, and all our fear and confusion will go away, at least for that particular moment of awakening. 

Although I can’t say too much about Ultimate Nirvana or perfect enlightenment — the translation of Anuttara-Samyak-Sambodhi — I do know that we human beings are capable of waking up to this truth the sutra is pointing toward. Over many years of practice, we can continue to deepen our experiential understanding of the sutra’s mysterious depth, and this can be powerful for our lives. I’m not asking you to believe me, but to see for yourself as the Buddha counseled us to do.

Therefore recite the mantra of Prajnaparamita:
Gate, Gate, Paragate, Parasamgate, Bodhi Svaha.

The final line is the “mantra of perfect wisdom,” which can be translated as, “Gone, gone, gone beyond, gone utterly beyond, Oh what an awakening!” It’s the sutra’s parting wisdom, encouraging us to continue our journeys to the other shore of enlightenment. Repeating this short mantra can remind us of the essence of the Heart Sutra and motivate us to continue practicing.

Recently, I’ve been using this mantra to cultivate concentration during my meditation sessions and to stay present and less in Me-world throughout my day. Sometimes it’s a little more convenient to repeat the short mantra instead of the whole sutra. The mantra alone is filled with just as much mystery, depth, and wisdom, and I find that repeating it can infuse my body with its meaning. 

When studying any text or sutra, one of my favorite professors during my time studying religion would always ask us, “What does this have to do with Tuesday afternoon?” I took that to mean, What does this sutra have to do with my life, here and now? I am now encouraging you to take some time with this sutra yourself and find out what it’s saying about your actual experience. Don’t just read through it once or twice. Recite and contemplate it every day for a few months, a year, a lifetime… 

It is my hope that, at the very least, you can now better understand the Heart Sutra and feel more empowered to reflect on and put into practice its wisdom, ultimately freeing yourself from suffering and being of growing benefit to this world. 

Mark Van Buren

Mark Van Buren is a Buddhist author, meditation instructor, and mindful living trainer. He is the author of Your Life is Meditation and A Fool’s Guide to Actual Happiness. He lives in New Jersey. He can be found online at www.buymeacoffee.com/meditatewithmark

Heading to the Shore Together | Plum Village

Heading to the Shore Together | Plum Village

Favorable conditions

It was an afternoon in July when I first arrived in Lower Hamlet. My sister from the same family tree led me to greet the elder sisters. There was one particularly friendly sister who asked me if I spoke English. That sister was Sister Lan Nghiem. I was thinking in my head: “Whoa, my goodness, how can there be such a tall person on this planet?”

Sister Trang Loc Uyen (center), is an active young Dharma teacher-to-be in Lower Hamlet, Plum Village, France. She volunteered to be sister Lan Nghiem’s attendant along with other sisters while Sister Lan Nghiem was gravely ill until her passing.

Conditions were set that I had many chances to share a room with Sister Lan Nghiêm; we were part of the small minority of Lower Hamlet nuns who liked cool refreshing air and open windows in the winter.

The day she returned to the sangha after discovering that she had cancer, I was working in the office preparing for an online retreat. As much as I wanted to, there was just so much work piling up, and it was difficult to put time aside to be with her. I felt uneasy. I decided to be her attendant as the best means to express my love towards my beloved “young” friend for the past few years. The journey begins.

Familiarizing

I directly thank Sister Lan Nghiem for agreeing to return to the sangha so that the sangha could care for her. This meant so much to the sangha: There is something reassuring to be ill in the community.

After her first chemotherapy session, Sister Lan Nghiem was well enough to tell me all sorts of stories. Stories of her childhood, boating with her father, from buying a house in Amsterdam and leaving everything and moving to France, to living in a community on a farm making cheese…

After so many years of living with her, I thought that my capacity to listen to her never-ending stories was quite solid. But after two weeks of attending to her, I became fearful. Fearful because I heard her voice all the time. When I was doing sitting meditation with my eyes closed, or before I went to sleep I only saw her gestures. I was afraid I carried within myself her energy and had the impression that I was no longer myself. I was the exact replica of Sister Lan Nghiem. 

It wasn’t until a sitting meditation session that I saw clearly: that’s right, how can I not be a replica of Sister Lan Nghiem. Anyone, in an intimate relation more or less will influence one another. 

Everything pours into our store consciousness whether we want it to or not. Then suddenly, when I recognized all of the negative energy one can take in from the person we are caring for, I immediately thought of all of the nurses and caregivers. I am taking care of Sister Lan Nghiem, but I get to live in the sangha, I am in a good environment, I get to do sitting meditation and walking meditation… and I am still met with this difficulty, what do the nurses and caregivers at the hospital do? This awareness helped give me more energy to look deeply into my practice and to take care of myself while being an attendant. One morning, I saw the intimate relationship between myself and everything around me. I saw that I was physically well and was the indirect recipient of the fear and discomfort of Sister Lan Nghiem. And Sister Lan Nghiem was the direct recipient of her physical pain every hour, as well as the fear and confusion of what was going to happen next. This insight gave me more motivation to practice. I thought to myself: Sister Lan Nghiem will endure her pain and I will practice for her. I accepted the truth of interbeing. Instead of fear and denying the energy present, I accepted it as the most precious mud to generate motivation to look deeply into the fear of death that lies deep in my store consciousness. 

At every sitting meditation session, especially before going to sleep, I put myself in a dying person’s shoes and practiced with the gatha “This body is not me…

Whenever I was taking care of Sister Lan Nghiem, I reminded myself to be aware: I am of the same nature, eventually I will grow old, become ill, and be afraid of death, afraid of being lost and confused. Practicing like that, I felt gratitude overflowing within me. Sister Lan Nghiem is a Bodhisattva manifestation, accepting and embracing her physical pain so that I can awaken: Even when young, sickness and death can come at any moment and it doesn’t spare anyone. She reminded me that I need to be diligent in my practice and studies so that I can taste the insight of no birth and no death. 

I directly thank Sister Lan Nghiem for agreeing to return to the sangha so that the sangha could care for her. This meant so much to the sangha: There is something reassuring to be ill in the community. There are many who become ill and do not stay in the community because of the fear of inconveniencing the community. Sister Lan Nghiem was the first non-Vietnamese sister to stay in the sangha while ill until her death. I know taking care of sister Lan Nghiem is also taking care of my and the sangha’s future. The manifestation of her cancer is like a bell of awakening for the community of Lower Hamlet to practice contemplating old age, sickness, death and treasuring each other.

In the forest of fear and confusion 

After a period of time, Sister Lan Nghiem was admitted to the hospital for a blood transfusion and potassium infusion.

Returning to the hamlet, she became oddly difficult; she was short tempered, wanted to be independent but was always forgetful. We were at a loss. I was determined to experiment with a new method. I knew her personality and that is why I dared to experiment. She became irritated at me after I prepared her medication (it was the first time she was ever irritated with me), I was breathing deeply for a while and said: “Dear Sister, we love you very much and we volunteered to care for you with our whole heart. But I also have shortcomings and limitations, especially when it comes to understanding western medicine. If you see that we cannot be of any help, please tell sister Thuy Nghiem so she can change attendants. We don’t wish to make you any more tired.” After saying that to her, I was prepared to receive a reaction. But instead, she became very quiet, her voice became softer but a little more sad. I was worried. I asked if she needed anything else before I left. She said that she could do it with a sad voice. The next morning, a younger sister informed me that Sister Lan Nghiem was sweeter, and everything they did for her she always thanked them. My goodness! That meant my experiment was a success. From that moment on, she completely trusted us, that included Sister Dao Nghiem, the person that helped with her medications and contacting the doctor.

The cancer had begun to spread to her brain. Sister Lan Nghiem started to not understand a lot of things and not know where she was. Sometimes she would ask me questions and I couldn’t help but to half cry, and to half smile: “Why did people create the clock?”, “Why am I here?”, “How did they discover that I had cancer?” 

Her body began to weaken, but her consciousness wasn’t yet able to accept the truth about her cancer, saying “What is this thing called death?” If she were to pass away like this it wouldn’t have been good. Everyone in the sangha knew this but we didn’t know exactly what to do to be really helpful. I remember that around that time, I would chant Avalokiteshvara’s name, hoping that the energy of loving kindness and compassion in me would awaken so that I could do something to help her.

Sr Lan Nghiem loved to take long walks

Strength of the Sangha

After a while, the sangha eventually knew that she had stage four cancer. In the last two sessions of chemotherapy, they only put in enough medication so that she wouldn’t get any sores.  It wasn’t the usual dosage of a normal chemotherapy session.

We couldn’t help sister Lan Nghiem recover. It was now the time to help her go through her depression and accept that she would die in a short period of time. The attendant team started to sing a lot of songs about no-birth and no-death. The sangha started to offer chanting sessions twice a week for her. One evening, as she turned over, she woke up and I asked her: “How is your body?” She replied: “Oh, I feel very happy and comfortable.”

I felt so happy hearing those words. I don’t know how long it had been since she had felt comfortable and peaceful in her body. I said: “Do you know why you feel happy? It is because the sangha sent the energy of peace to you.” When she heard that, she said: “Oh really, I thank the sangha.”

It seemed that she was trying to forget the reality of her situation. There was one day, after sitting, I realised that in order for her to accept the reality of  her coming death, we needed to ask for help from Sister Chan Duc. That morning, when SisterChan Duc came to visit, I shared with her Sister Lan Nghiem’s present status. After singing one or two songs, SisterChan Duc  took off her hat, and I knew that her Dharma talk was about to begin. She shared about the happiness of being Thay’s disciple, getting to know the practice of mindfulness, and getting to live in the embrace of her loving monastic siblings. Then she asked Sister Lan Nghiem if she knew which Dharma talk that Shariputra shared with Anapathindika before he passed away? Without waiting for an answer from Sister Lan Nghiem, she continued: 

These eyes are not me, I am not caught in these eyes.
These ears are not me, I am not caught in these ears.
This body is not me, I am not caught in this body.

(Discourse on teachings to be given to the sick – Plum Village Chanting Book)

The deeper SisterChan Duc went into the sutra, the stronger became Sister Lan Nghiem’s concentrative energy. I remember it as if it were just yesterday, Sister Lan Nghiem was lying perfectly still listening to SisterChan Duc’s words, just as a child would listen to her parents teachings.

After offering the teachings, SisterChan Duc sang a few more songs and left. Sister Lan Nghiem started to feel a rush of pain. We massaged her for an hour to no avail. I knew that this was a strong pain. Because at this time, she was starting to wake up to reality, and to not avoid it.

I felt that [Sister Lan Nghiem] was determined to see the insight of no birth and no death. I said: “I know that the highest purpose of a monk or a nun is to attain the insight of no birth and no death. Even though I am still young I also want to have this insight.” She replied, “Me too”.

The lotus blooms when the mud is accepted

Ten days before leaving her body, she was once more in excruciating pain. I said: “Dear Sister, you know that we love you and aren’t hesitant to care for you. I see that the cancer is spreading quickly. If at any moment you feel you cannot endure the discomfort any longer then you can let go of this body, ok? The sangha is always present to protect and send energy to you.”

She replied: “I am thinking of that. It has been more difficult.”

I was happy to hear that. Those words proved that she had accepted herself – and had accepted the truth.

With a little more confidence, I asked: “How much longer do you think you can continue like this?” She wasn’t ready to answer. Knowing her, I offered a few suggestions: “A few more months, few more weeks, a few days?” She answered: “I think that I can continue on for about two weeks.”

Not trusting what I had just heard, I asked her for confirmation: “You mean two more days or two more weeks?”

She replied: “I think I can continue on for about two weeks.”

“Do you want me to do anything for you? Is there anything that you are remorseful about or have any regrets about?” “No,” she answered.

I continued: “Do you want the monks and nuns to come and sing a few songs for you?” She nodded her head. From that day onwards, her room was filled with songs and sharings of beautiful memories of the brown robed angels.

Two days later it was my turn to take the night shift. Before going to sleep, I sang the song “I have arrived, I am home”. To my surprise, she was singing along with me. At this point her tongue was stiff and curled up so the words weren’t audible. But when we reached the line that says “the door of no birth and no death is open…” she sang with lots of determination. I felt that she was determined to see the insight of no birth and no death. I said: “I know that the highest purpose of a monk or a nun is to attain the insight of no birth and no death. Even though I am still young I also want to have this insight.” She replied, “Me too”. 

Hearing those words, I felt so happy. After breathing a few breaths, I continued, “At present, you are experiencing old age, sickness and death ahead of me, therefore you will realize the insight of no birth and no death before me. If you realize it before me please share it with me.” At that time, Sister Lan Nghiem said in a stiff voice that I cannot forget to this day: “I will let you know before I go. I will let you know before I go.” After that I turned on the Dharma talk given by Thay on no birth and no death. A smile blossomed on her lips. That smile remained there until the next morning, until the moment in which she released her body.

Her two younger blood sisters informed us that two days after listening to the Dharma talk, while lying down she suddenly said twice: “I have understood it, I have understood it.”

I was so happy. From that moment on Sister Lan Nghiem’s energy was completely different. Going from a place of fear, worry and sleeping in order to forget the truth, she became more peaceful and rested deeply. The pain increased more and more everyday but her mind was lighter and lighter. From that day onwards, every time I did sitting meditation in her room I felt a wondrous sense of peace. At times, I felt as if I was sitting in the presence of Thay when I was his attendant.

On Monday November 30, her breathing became weaker, and lighter, we had to look at her abdomen to know whether she was breathing or not. On Monday evening, the three attendants, SisterDao Nghiem, and Sister Lan Nghiem’s two younger blood sisters spent the night in her room. At five in the morning, everyone had tea together. I made black tea, the kind that Sister Lan Nghiem likes, for everyone to drink. We shared so many beautiful memories of Sister Lan Nghiem. That morning was a legendary and spiritual moment for me.  

Two hours later, I returned from washing the teapot, I saw SisterDao Nghiem sitting close to the bed, with her hand on Sister Lan Nghiem’s stomach. She had passed. I placed my hands on her stomach. The body was finally at rest. There was such a deep stillness of body and mind. Everything had become completely still.

I went to the Assembly of Stars meditation hall to announce her passing. At that time the sangha had just finished the morning ceremony. Sister Lan Nghiêm had waited for the sisters to finish the precepts recitation ceremony before passing. She passed away at 7:15 a.m. on December 1st, 2020.

You have left, what of those who remain?

Occasionally, the remark that she made when the brothers came to visit her still rings in my ears: “I think I’m smart but now it doesn’t work.”

That’s right, witnessing what had happened to her, I saw clearly that talents, skills, and intelligence cannot be of any use when you are on your sickbed nearing death. It is the love, the care of your loved ones surrounding you, and completely taking refuge in the sangha that helps us to overcome moments of difficulties. So how should we practice or be of service so that we are not pulled away by our work, pulled away by the desire to develop our skills, that we forget the value of sisterhood and brotherhood and the highest purpose of one who has gone forth?

The path of suffering and the path of happiness

The path of suffering and the path of happiness inter-are. We can choose to transform the one and enjoy the other. ~ Warren     

'There is no way to happiness, happiness is the way.' Do we have to suffer and toil before we can experience happiness and enlightenment'.   Happiness is here and now.