Natt til i går døde Thich Nhat Hanh, og han ble 95 år gammel. Han har inspirert meg på flere områder, og dette sitatet er veldig “kvekersk”:
På #SoMe har det dukket opp mange bilder siste døgnet, og dette oppsummerer godt hans gjerning:
Under andakten hos kvekerne i dag dukket også navnet hans opp. Da leste jeg en tekst med tittelen: “I asked the leaf…“. Den ser slik ut:
Denne teksten finnes også i en litt annen versjon.
Nettidsskriftet “The Lion´s Roar – Buddhist Wisdom for Our Time” har lagt ut en lengre artikkel om Thich Nhat Hanh sitt liv og virke: The Life of Thich Nhat Hanh. The Buddhist review Tricycle har også en artikkel med tittlen: Thich Nhat Hanh, Vietnamese Zen Master, Dies at 95
Vi også minne om dokumentarfilmen “Walk with me” – her er traileren (kan leies her):
Takk for alt!
Oppdatering mai 2022 – kom over en biografisk dokumentar med tittelen “A Cloud Never Dies“:
Her er et forsøk på å oversette teksten:
Jeg spurte bladet
av Thich Nhat Hanh,
(oversatt av Lars Verket)
Jeg spurte bladet om det
var redd fordi det var
høst og de andre bladene
falt. Bladet fortalte meg,
«Nei. Gjennom hele våren og
sommeren har jeg vært fullstendig
i live. Jeg arbeidet hardt for å nære
treet, og nå er mye
av meg i treet. Jeg er ikke begrenset av
denne formen. Jeg er også
hele treet, og når jeg igjen blir til
jord, vil jeg fortsette
å nære treet. Så jeg er ikke redd i det
hele tatt. Når jeg forlater denne
grenen og seiler mot bakken, vil jeg
vinke til treet og fortelle
henne, «Jeg vil møte deg igjen snart.»
Den dagen var det en vind som blåste, og
etter en stund, så jeg
bladet forlate grenen og seile
ned til jorden, dansende med
glede, fordi når det seilte ned så
det seg selv allerede i
treet. Det var lykkelig. Jeg bøyde mitt
hode, og visste at jeg hadde
masse å lære fra bladet.
This body is not me.
I am not limited by this body.
I am life without boundaries.
I have never been born,
and I have never died.
Look at the ocean and the sky filled with stars,
manifestations from my wondrous true mind.
Since before time, I have been free.
Birth and death are only doors through which we pass,
sacred thresholds on our journey.
Birth and death are a game of hide-and-seek.
So laugh with me,
hold my hand,
let us say good-bye,
say good-bye, to meet again soon.
We meet today.
We will meet again tomorrow.
We will meet at the source every moment.
We meet each other in all forms of life.
——
“This Body is Not Me,” by Thick Nhat Hanh. Beloved and revered Zen Buddhist teacher, peace activist and author.
11th October 1926 – 22nd January 2022.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/obituaries/2022/01/22/thich-nhat-hanh-monk-dead/
“The moment I die
I will try to come back to you
as quickly as possible.
I promise it will not take long.
Isn’t it true
I am already with you
as I die each moment?
I come back to you
in every moment.
Just look,
feel my presence.
If you want to cry,
please cry,
And Know
that I will cry with you.
The tears you shed
will heal us both.
Your tears and mine.
The earth I tread this morning
transcends history.
Spring and Winter are both present in the moment.
The young leaf and the old leaf are really one.
My feet touch deathlessness,
And my feet are yours.
Walk with me now.
Let us enter the dimension of oneness
and see the cherry tree blossom in Winter.
Why should we talk about death?
I don’t need to die
to be back with you.”
Thich Nhat Hanh, (October 11, 1926 – January 22, 2022) was a Vietnamese Thiền Buddhist monk, peace activist, and founder of the Plum Village Tradition, historically recognized as the main inspiration for engaged Buddhism.
Dette!
Please Call Me by My True Names – Thich Nhat Hanh
Don’t say that I will depart tomorrow —
even today I am still arriving.
Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.
I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that is alive.
I am the mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And I am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.
I am the frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.
I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.
I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.
I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands.
And I am the man who has to pay
his “debt of blood” to my people
dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.
My joy is like Spring, so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and my laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart
can be left open,
the door of compassion.