By Brother Minh Niệm on
Brother Minh Niệm shares how the Plum Village monastic community helped him to better care for his own suffering and that of others.
Imagine for a moment twenty monks and nuns on roller skates.
Last August, the monastics of Deer Park had the good fortune to offer a six-day retreat at the YMCA of the Rockies.
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By Brother Minh Niệm on
Brother Minh Niệm shares how the Plum Village monastic community helped him to better care for his own suffering and that of others.
Imagine for a moment twenty monks and nuns on roller skates.
Last August, the monastics of Deer Park had the good fortune to offer a six-day retreat at the YMCA of the Rockies. It was a lovely retreat in a stunning location in the Rocky Mountains, Colorado, US. We hope conditions will be favorable for us to return in the future.
After a retreat, monastics like to enjoy a handful of lazy days to rest and play. During our lazy days in the Rockies, we practiced mindful roller skating. Imagine for a moment twenty monks and nuns on roller skates. Twenty monks and nuns, some very skilled and some with no clue what they are doing, all skating around a little roller rink high in the Colorado Rockies. Twenty monks and nuns, some flying forward and backward, some on one leg, and some never straying far from the safety of the wall. We laugh, we yell, and we fall. We do a lot of falling.
Now, I am not a skilled skater. When I put on roller skates, I do my best to just keep my balance and breathe. I did watch my more experienced monastic siblings handling themselves on skates and tried to imitate them as best as I could. I asked questions, listened to the answers, and tried my best to put everything into practice. Bit by bit I improved, but I still fell many times.
One brother is very skilled, very smooth; he even falls gracefully. He makes falling an art form.
Something I have observed: everybody falls in their own way. One of my brothers falls like a cartoon character, his legs flying back and forth looking for traction on his way to the ground. His arms windmill, he goes, “Oh oh oh!” and then he collapses straight down. Then, there is a group of sisters clinging to each other as they tentatively skate around the rink. When they fall, it’s in one great big laughing heap that makes everybody smile. I don’t know what happens to me when I fall, but I don’t fall like that. I don’t even know how I fall. One moment I’m moving fine, the next, I hit the floor with a loud BOOM. I fall in such a way that everybody looks over and goes, “Whoa, are you okay?” I get up, bruised but smiling.
One brother is very skilled, very smooth; he even falls gracefully. He makes falling an art form. He goes down slowly, in total control of his body, rolls in one motion, and straight up again into skating. He tries all sorts of things without fear, because he knows how to fall without getting hurt. He practices the art of falling skillfully. I think we would all be wise to learn from this.
Recently, I was asked what in my monastic life nourishes my aspiration to serve. Honestly, I think I have aspired to do something about suffering in the world for most of my life. I just haven’t always known how. Looking back, one thing is clear to me: my efforts to help others were complicated by my struggles to take care of my own suffering. Many times, my intentions were good, but because I didn’t understand myself and struggled to take good care of myself, I wasn’t able to really improve a situation.
I know I might fall, but I also know that some brothers and sisters know how to skate very well and how to fall skillfully. If I pay attention, I can learn from them.
Our roller skating reminded me of this. Sometimes, roller skating with my brothers and sisters, watching someone struggle or fall, I felt so much compassion. I know what it is like to fall, because I also fall. When I see someone else fall, I feel almost as if I fell myself. When someone is afraid of coming away from the wall, I know that fear very well, and compassion arises in me right away. I want to help so much, but I have learned I can’t help someone roller skate if I don’t know how to skate myself. Offering a helping hand might result in two people going down instead of just one. The same is true in other situations; first, I must learn to help myself.
The wonderful thing about being a monastic in the Plum Village tradition is that we do almost everything together. We get to learn from each other all the time. If we are going to roller skate, we do it as a group, and there are always other monastics who can show you a better way. I know I might fall, but I also know that some brothers and sisters know how to skate very well and how to fall skillfully. If I pay attention, I can learn from them.
So, what nourishes my aspiration to serve? Honestly, the answer has a lot to do with learning how to fall skillfully. I still fall into old habits, I still fall into suffering. But I am learning how to suffer less and how to suffer more skillfully. Living in the sangha, I get to learn every day how to understand myself better, take care of myself better, and love myself better. Learning to better understand and take care of myself, I also learn how to better understand and help relieve suffering in others. I understand anger in others because I practice with anger in myself. I understand craving in others because I practice with craving in myself. I understand fear in others because I practice with fear in myself.
Right now, my aspiration is to simply be a refuge—first, a refuge for myself, because I know this will strengthen my capacity to be a refuge for others. When I see how well my brothers and sisters practice, I know I can learn to be as solid as they are. Every time I fall into an old habit, I know I can learn something new. When I see others suffer, lessons from my own struggles show me the way to help. I want to help others, which means I need to help myself. Taking good care of myself, I can’t help but learn to care for and serve others. This knowledge nourishes my aspiration to serve.
