To set this up, rewind almost 20 years ago. I’m in Korea, teaching English, studying meditation, and doing a lot of self-discovery. It was 2003 and the US had just declared war on Iraq and despite the anti-American sentiment in Korea at the time, I decided to take a train up to Seoul to attend a peace rally. Peace advocate and Zen monk Thich Nhat Hanh was going to be there to offer a peace march, a slow walking prayer for peace. I LOVE Thich Nhat Hanh, had read several of his books, and couldn’t believe that I was going to finally see him.
There were more than 10,000 people at this peace rally and as one of the only white people there, I stood out making me a potential target for anti-American sentiment. But I figured that being a peace rally and all, I’d hopefully be ok.
While I was waving my hand-made sign which read “American for Peace,” a kind Korean monk began talking to me, sharing his warm smile and words, acknowledging my decision to be there.
Soon, the crowd hushed as Thich Nhat Hanh took the stage and instructed us on how to breathe in peace and breathe out peace as he and a select group of about a dozen monks would walk slowly along a cordoned-off path in the center of the crowd of 10,000 people.
Thich Nhat Hanh began his peace march through the silent crowd. As Thich Nhat Hanh and his posse of monks approached where I was standing, I heard my new monk friend whisper in my ear, “Stay close to me.” “Sure,” I thought, “we are packed in here like sardines. Where am I going to go?” Then, as Thich Nhat Hanh and his wake of monks passed in front of where I was standing, my kind Korean monk friend lifted the rope separating the crowd from the small double-row of monks performing the peace walk. I felt a gentle hand on my back pushing me into the slow procession of monks and before I knew it, we took up the caboose position in the peace walk with 10,000 pairs of eyes watching us.
We completed the peace walk with the monks and ended up on stage facing the entire crowd. Thich Nhat Hanh gave some final remarks and everyone erupted into celebratory applause.
I’ll never forget that day as long as I live. Read the entire story here (blog)
Now, fast forward to January of 2022 and I am living in France. I was crushed to hear that at 95 years old, Thich Nhat Hanh had died. I knew he had Plum Village—his headquarters, meditation halls, and retreat center—was somewhere in the South of France but I was shocked to learn that it was only about 20 minutes from where I’d be hosting my retreats in June. I had to go and I desperately wanted to bring my retreat attendees with me.
I scoured the Plum Village website to make arrangements but couldn’t quite discern whether or not we’d be welcome to visit Plum Village. I’d written an email to the administration of Plum Village which went unanswered. One page on the website said that we could show up and that lunch would be provided and on another part indicated the contrary. There were so many variables that I thought we should simply show up, trust fate, and be ready to roll with whatever presents itself.
So one beautiful June morning at my Bordeaux retreat, the bus picked us up from the chateau and we headed to Plum Village. We had all packed some fruit, granola bars, and whatever other food we could in our bags to be prepared regardless of whether or not we were served lunch.
As we unloaded from the bus we saw a busy but easy going community of monks, practitioners, and lay people on a meditation retreat. I’m not sure if any of them were also visiting for just the day. Some people were volunteers on their Happy Farm project, others were lounging in hammocks or meditating as they sat in the grass.
We milled about for a bit as I tried to catch my bearings and figure out what to do and where to go. I introduced myself to a few monks, told them who we were, and I asked them if we were welcome and how we could participate. They kindly indicated we were welcome for the day, that we could join for a meditation and Dharma talk offered by some of the senior monks, but that we were on our own for lunch. Score!
As we waited for the meeting to start, we were all standing around and taking in this incredible fact that WE WERE AT PLUM VILLAGE. While we were standing there, a big warm-hearted black man who was attending the meditation retreat at Plum Village saw one of the attendees of my retreat, a black woman, and he jumped up in the air and shouted, “Yes! Now there’s two of us!” He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her with a big, long, hug. We all met and introduced ourselves before the two of them celebrated their blackness together and immediately dove into deep and warm conversation about the need for meditation in their communities.
His name is Ofosu and I eventually learned that he is a Ghanian-American hip-hop and electronic musician in the Washington DC area and calls himself Born I. He teaches meditation, is a practicing buddhist, and devotes much of his music to waking up. Incredible.
Eventually, we entered a large meditation hall. There were chairs set up as well as meditation cushions on the floor and in several sections of the hall there were chords and headphones so that the talks could be translated into several different languages.
The warm tones of a large bell greeted several of the head monks who entered and took their seats on the stage. We meditated. After, they hosted a moving Q&A session. One man asked the monks through tears how we can meditate when there is war going on. Then Ofosu approached the stage and asked a heart-felt question about how to reconcile racism through meditation. I was blown away by how compassionately the monks answered the questions.
After the Q&A, the monks indicated that today was the celebration of the 40th anniversary of Plum Village. My heart leapt. I just happened to bring my group to Plum Village on this momentous day! The monks talked lovingly of their leader Thay (Thich Nhat Hanh’s familiar name), and illustrated the origins and evolutions that Plum Village has experienced over the years. They showed a video montage of Thich Nhat Hanh’s life as well as the ongoing life of Plum Village and even though none of the pictures were of the peace march I’d attended in Seoul in 2003, the photos took me back there as if it were yesterday.
Eventually, we shuffled out of the hall and I was moved to find my new friend, Ofosu. I gave him a big hug and thanked him for his question about reconciling race issues with meditation and mindfulness and told him how his question invited me to be more mindful about race. We had a warm moment and a brief chat.
Then the few hundred people in attendance at Plum Village that day, went outside to participate in our own peace march. We started at a large tower with an enormous bell which they rang several times as they evoked a prayer. Then we walked in silence in a thin line through the forest breathing and thinking peace. I felt as if I were reliving my impromptu peace march with Thich Nhat Hanh almost 20 years prior.