When my naturopathic doctor told me I’d need to get rid of much of my books because they collect mold I said “No way”. “Do you want to get healthy or do you want to keep the books?” I hesitated. I treasure my books. They are a life line to a larger limitless world. This love of books goes deep. My mother read at least one book a week and held a seminar each Wednesday afternoon to share what she was learning from these books with other women. Her love of books goes back to her father who cherished reading, mostly Spinoza. Spinoza was a free thinker in the 1700’s, when free thinking was considered a heresy and grounds for expulsion and even death. Throughout human history there have been a handful of people who had the emotional courage to follow their hearts and minds instead of social norms. Oftentimes they sacrificed their lives and well- being to speak truth to the powers that be. Some were killed and some, like Spinoza, were exiled from their communities. How do we thank the people who write words that push human evolution forward even at the threat of exile and death? So you see why I treasure books.

My primary Zen vow is to bear witness to the joy and suffering of life. Some consider joy Pollyanna and naive, thinking that despair, given the horrors of the world, is much more realistic. But both joy and suffering are essential aspects of every life, to deny either is unrealistic. At this time, when there is so much despair and dark news, joy becomes a form of activism.

Last month I shared a story about Siddhartha sitting under a Rose Apple tree as a young boy during his town’s harvest festival. Today I’d like to share a story about Siddhartha under the sacred fig, or bodhi, tree. Fig trees go by numerous names- ficus, bodhi, banyon, pippala. In Hindu tradition the sacred fig tree represents the infinite expanse of the universe. It is known as the tree of life. If you have ever sat beneath the 150 year old Banyon Tree in Maui, or a seasoned banyon tree anywhere, you have a sense of the apparent boundlessness of these trees. They send out shoots that root into the ground expanding the reach of the mother tree. The banyon tree in Maui has thrown out new shoots that expand the tree to cover a full block in Lahaina. Although burnt by the fires, this banyon tree is already showing new signs of life.

I’d like to share a story with you. When Siddhartha, the future Buddha, was a child he went with his family to the annual planting festival, which took place in spring when the farmers were preparing to sow the year’s crops. It was an important event for the whole community. Local farmers and villagers would come from all around to celebrate. The highlight of the ceremony was the ritual plowing of the first furrow. Only after this official opening of the planting season, and the blessing of the crops, would local farmers begin to sow their fields.

I know it is a challenging time and sometimes we may feel too small to do anything significant about all the problems we meet. I hope you bring a bit of kindness and sanity into a world that is sorely in need of these qualities. Even just a simple smile at the check- out person at the grocery store. These things reverberate.  And, I hope you find joy in self-expression and in the company other others who support and love you.

As 2023 draws to a close, it’s a great time to sweep the old path clean of leaves and debris in order to better see the first step into the unknowable future.  I invite you to join me in a very special, very ancient, practice of remembering together. The practice is called council. In council we sit together around a virtual fire as we speak and listen in a safe space. The space is made safe by the mutual agreement of the group to speak from the heart, listen from the heart, not comment on one another’s words and, as they say in Las Vegas, “what is said here stays here”. This practice started with American indigenous cultures around the camp fire and moved into Zen centers, prisons, and meeting spaces around the world. It has helped create transformation in board rooms, zendos, and living rooms. Council provides us with a safe space to speak into, a space where we are not judged, where no one tries to fix us, where we can just take a breath and be ourselves. I have personally found this practice of speaking and listening immensely helpful and healing. It has created a level of comfort and self- acceptance I’ve never known before.