A Summer Sea Dream.
“Ocean, are you listening?
The most beautiful part
of your body is wherever
your mother’s shadow falls.”
“Ocean, are you listening?
The most beautiful part
of your body is wherever
your mother’s shadow falls.”
I have a video recording of my doctoral defense and that moment my advisor welcomed me back into the room and said, “Congratulations, Dr. Hy Huynh.” The moment happened so fast in real-time though, so I’m grateful I can go back, slow it down, and savor that moment, frame by frame.
One of my favorite memories of my recent trip to Colombia was photographing Julian and his abuelo on a hike at Cocora Valley. The day before, his abuelo had asked if he could join us, even expressing interest in hiking with us. He wanted to do it all. It wasn’t until later that I learned he hadn’t been back to Cocora Valley in more than twenty years.
Once on horseback and another time on foot, I’ve been fortunate to experience the wonder and wisdom of Cocora Valley in Salento, Colombia. It’s become my place of refuge this month, a place where I’ve been able to both calmly reflect and seek advice and perspective during these difficult times.
A few months ago, a monk said to me, “It’s easy to be thankful for our friends, family, good health, and positive experiences, but it’s much more difficult to be thankful for challenging situations, difficult people, and other difficult experiences. Now you’re probably wondering: why should we be thankful for these things? Well, sometimes, difficult experiences and people who make us angry or sad can show us where we might need more wisdom.”
A year ago, I moved to a really charming corner of the world called Battambang, Cambodia. I had previously been there one other time for my first 10-day Vipassana meditation retreat, but this time around would be my first time actually living and experiencing a non-monastic life in Cambodia. I was excited to return and reconnect.
“Life has many ways of testing a person’s will, either by having nothing happen at all or by having everything happen all at once.” – Paulo Coehlo
Yep, it’s that time of the year/semester when pretty much everyone I know seems to be inundated by their novel-length to-do lists.
I’m not sure if it was the emerald green glacier lakes or the ethereal elk mating calls that echoed through the valleys at night, but Rocky Mountain National Park set the bar extremely high on my National Park tour this year.
From one forest sanctuary to another.
After my silent meditation retreat in the woods last week, I decided to ease my transition back into this noisy-cluttered-messy world (that I love nonetheless) with a short trip to D.C. for some quiet museum exploration. One place that I’ve always inexplicably overlooked during my D.C. museum days is the United States Botanic Garden, the nation’s oldest continually operating botanic garden. Now, it just might be my favorite space in D.C. (what can I say? I love being in environments that are conducive to getting the Jurassic Park theme song stuck in my head.)
“We always have a choice about how we react.”
I just got back from a Thanksgiving silent meditation retreat at the Bhavana Society Monastery in West Virginia. There’s still so much to process and I haven’t finished reflecting, but I did want to share this one story from a dhamma talk I heard this past weekend. It struck me as a useful and timely reminder that fighting hate with more hate or responding to unskillful thinking with more unskillful thinking doesn’t resolve much of anything.