Yes, and…

Some of you know I have been saying I am in my “yes, and” era. Whether that means “yes, I agree, and I would also add,”… the more powerful “yes, and” that I resonate with is yes, as an acceptance of what is….and, as a decision of what I will commit to, take responsibility for or ask for as I need support or collaboration. I have recently used yes, and more frequently and in different ways…Yes, I am having a surreal trip with many rich experiences, and I can feel my deeper psyche beginning to push the healing work, giving me echoes of times past. In conversations with new friends, I get little hits of reminders of conversations that went well and others that did not. Given these psychological percolations, my planned visit to Hue to visit Từ Hiếu Pagoda, Thich Nhat Hanh’s root pagoda, was timely and fortuitous. If you aren’t familiar with teacher Thich Nhat Hanh, here’s a video clip of how he taught and the community he built. He built his community in France and worldwide, but the pagoda here was his home and first place of study. The turmoil of tourist Vietnam, with the costumed dancers, candy sellers, and various short-term entertainment/satiation vendors situated in ancient and world heritage sites, marked by the various occupiers, notably the French architecture and the American bomb blasts that still remain, was sharply contrasted by the afternoon I gratefully spent in silence and solitude at the Từ Hiếu Pagoda.

After being taken out to a fusion dinner in Hoi An’s old quarter with my friends Maggie, Jason, Harriet and Tom(Thanks again, family!!) and strolling the river banks amidst the bright night markets, my trips became a reflection of prescriptive tourism and lovely moments of real connection. More clearly, though I was clear that I wanted to experience the circular fishing boats or visit the Imperial Citadel for the experience, the tourists who came before me had clearly shown what they wanted and conditioned the guides to literally bring the party vibe (no judgement, just not my vibe) ~ my guide, Phong kept trying to take pictures of me, or to show me where to buy Vietnamese style costumes, or to shop for jewellery. The tension between my discomfort of not wanting to shop or pose, and Phong’s confusion about what I wanted was relieved through a translator app. The moment he understood what I was looking for, he pulled over, asked me some questions, and asked me to trust him. So, I did, and the entire journey changed from amusement park-style fun tourism into connecting with local people, with their version of their Vietnam, and my time in silent contemplation. Everywhere I went, the playful tourism format was evident; however, as I stood still in each spot, I began to notice the quiet current of tradition and practice flowing intermingled with the megaphone tourist groups and (literal) Mickey Mouse costumes. Beyond the abundance of costumed people posing for their pictures in front of the various monuments, a few monks and volunteers moved unobtrusively along the edges of the pathways, moving to worship or care for the pagodas or the land and waters. As we travelled, Phong told me through the app about his life in Hoi An and asked me about my life in Vancouver. The delay of watching each other write out our next words and the patience we gave each other when the translation wasn’t quite right built in another level of slow that I appreciated.

I had anticipated the full moon festival to be an evening where all would slow down to observe the tradition, praying and releasing paper lanterns to float down the river. With my trip to Southeast Asia intended to help me recover from the last few years, I was likely basing my expectations in a novel version of what I needed, rather than reality. While those in the Old Town observed the occasion by turning all electric lights off(except for main walkways) and no motor vehicles moving, most visitors seemed to treat the evening like a novelty. Yes, there were loud groups, Disney-style glow toys, noisemakers and lineups to get on a boat. And, I saw people gather along the riverbed, away from the noise to release their special lanterns after praying. So, I lined up to be taken on the boat and to release my prayer lantern. I was aware of all the shouts of delight around me, but I focused on my lantern, and what it represented. When I released it, I felt calm and at ease. The pattern repeated ~ yes, there were groups of tourists pretending to sit like the Buddha in front of various pagodas, and practicing Buddhists were stepping around these people to go light incense and pray. Yes, there was an amusement park atmosphere in many areas, and there were those who appeared to go with the flow and do what they needed. When I asked my guides and two monks about what I was seeing, they shared that, Yes, tourism has changed over the last few years, becoming more song and dance, full of anticipated performance. And many Vietnamese people, even the monks, have appreciated the heightened income from donations so that they can repair their buildings from the American damage and care for the land. If you are able to focus in the here and now, it can be all things and nothing of a bother at the same time.

Yes, I went to many of the tourist sites ~ to see the history, learn about the people and hear their stories. And, the more I experienced, the more the monks’ teachings of Buddhism reminded me of the framework to understand the journey of all of us together. Movement and change are how the world works; whether loud or quiet, focused or distracted, the world, and all of us, are always moving and changing. Thus we are impermanent. Due to the way we think, we use this impermanence as a cause of suffering. No individual does not know suffering; the more we are attracted to or feel aversive to something, the more the individual suffers. So, yes, I am part of the tourists, the people, the humanity, and, inspired to be like the monks, I can flow with and around all that is.

Which brings me back to Từ Hiếu Pagoda. It was the only place where there were no tourists, noise, and no show. The answers I gave to the questions Phong asked led him to bring me to the pagoda in the middle of the day when the heat was at its highest. Knowing that most people seek to avoid the heat and that I could handle it, he drove me to the main entrance, where a monk asked for donations to help maintain all the buildings and property. The monk quietly pointed me to where the shrine was, likely assuming I was there as a follower of Thich Nhat Hanh due to my foreign look. Other than a few monks moving around with their work, who nodded and smiled kindly at me, I was alone in the pagoda and courtyard for a very long time. The silence was palpable… perhaps my brain elevated the contrast to all that I had previously experienced (as brains like to do), but the sensations of stillness were in all my senses and have stayed with me since. As I looked at a picture of Thich Nhat Hanh laughing with the Dalai Lama, I remembered that he, like other mindfulness teachers said, “Live the actual moment. Only this moment is life.” The reminders and learning continue. 🙂

Picture Gallery ~ Huyen Khong Cave Buddha, Marble Mountain(Danang) ~ Meditation Gong on the path outsideTừ Hiếu Pagoda(Huế) ~ exterior Imperial Citadel(Huế) ~ Hải Vân Pass, interior Imperial Citadel showing where the only white lotuses in Vietnam are permitted to grow(Huế) ~ tomb of Khai Dinh(Huế) ~ Xa Loi Pagoda, Marble Mountain(Danang) ~ Mỹ Sơn Sanctuary, World Heritage Site(4th to 13th century Hindu site) https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/949/

Temple and pagoda in full moon prayer ~ traditional fishing(Hoi An) ~ Hoi An Full Moon Lantern Festival ~ Golden Bridge(Ba Na Hills) ~ Linh Ung surrounded by dragonflies at the Linh Ung Pagoda ~ Nghinh Phong Tower(Ba Na Hills), and a reminder. No Mud, No Lotus(yellow lotus of Vietnam)

Next…..Thailand.