By: Brian Holtvedt
In the midst of the season of Lent, we invite you to reflect on our common humanity from a Zen Buddhist perspective with one of our assistants, Brian Holtvedt.
A monk asked, ‘What is the practice hall?’
The Master said, ‘From the practice hall you have come. From the practice hall you will go. Everything [everywhere] is the practice hall. There is no other place.’”
Jōshū’s Recorded Sayings
Two years ago as a JV in Day Support, I remember reflecting on whether or not I wanted to stay on as a live in assistant. At the time, I felt a call towards the image of a Buddhist monastic life that was thoroughly romantic. “Life would be simpler,” I thought. “And I would finally be able to align my principles with my life.” A Thomas Merton quote I had read many years before rang like a promise through my head: in monastic life, I too would find “the four walls of my new freedom.” But, freedom from what?
Whether I like it or not, I find myself constantly caught in a spiritual struggle with my humanity. On my worst days I see my humanity as a hindrance that gets in the way of the spiritual maturity I want to express in my life. I want to be compassionate to myself and others, but sometimes I find myself reacting to others in ways I regret – because I’m feeling tired, or irritated, or judgmental. I want to love myself, but fall into cycles of shame, self-hatred or self-deprecation. With every upward trajectory towards my goal, there seems to be an equal gravitational pull away from it. On my best days, however, I see that learning to embrace and celebrate my humanity is the path to spiritual maturity. There is no getting around being limited, having flaws, being imperfect. What I need to do is reconcile myself to my humanity and learn how to move with it gracefully – to make mistakes, forgive myself, apologize to others; to fail and recognize that the only way to grow or learn is through failing.
I became a Zen Buddhist years ago because it consistently reminded me of this: that embracing my humanity is the spiritual journey, not transcending it. While the Zen tradition says humans have a habit of falling into patterns of delusion, anger and greed, it is only because we find ourselves running from our humanity, busily hiding away our vulnerabilities and flaws, terrified of the fact that things change and some day we will die. In prompting me to practice letting go, Zen Buddhism grounds me in who I am and encourages me to make peace
I decided to stay at L’Arche because I recognized in L’Arche the same statement about humanity. We’re a group of imperfect people who see dignity in our imperfections. But we also believe that embracing imperfection is the remedy the world needs. Whereas before I had only known this to be important theoretically, it wasn’t until L’Arche that I had the opportunity to practice it and make it real. Community life can be taxing – but it can also be full of love, forgiveness and cooperation. The difference is the web of loving support. In those moments when any one of us becomes overwhelmed by the realization that we can’t do it all, the community comes together and says, “It’s okay. How can I help?”
There is a short, lovely phrase by the Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh that goes: “No mud, no lotus.” The majority of cultural opinion tells us that mud is dirty and disgusting, that we need to cleanse ourselves of it to reach a state of purity. But maybe we’ve been thinking about it wrong. Maybe we need to think of the mud less as an impurity, and rather as the fertile soil that gives birth to beautiful flowers. Our lives, at their best, can be these flowers. But only if we reconcile ourselves with our mud.
There is another image that I think Thich Nhat Hanh is missing though. When I think of mud and flowers, I think of our farm, and while there are plenty of flowers doing their best to work their way up through the mud, there are also countless people there to help them grow. This is the beauty of community: we might all be on our own journey towards embracing our mud, but we don’t have to go it alone. We can work together to live in harmony with ourselves and one another.
