Thich Nhat Hanh Jewish Roots The Better Way to Live Alone in the ...

wonderful MOMENTYanomono again. I stared into the darkness trying to see where Iwas and what was around me. I saw nothing.My heart began to race. I couldn’t get my breath. I began topaddle frantically through the river, bumping into the right bank,then the left.A bat flew past, brushing my face with its wings. Isquealed.Mosquitoes buzzed my ears, bit my arms.The sounds from the rainforest grew louder: frogs especially,but birds too, and other jungle animals I couldn’t name. I had toget home!I peered anxiously into the darkness, trying to see what wasout there, looking for the bank of mud in front of the path to myhut, looking for the tree root that was my port, looking for anythingfamiliar. I could see nothing.I passed under a low hanging branch and something fell fromthe tree into my hair. A tarantula! A huge tarantula! A huge hairyjungle tarantula!I paddled fast, desperately slapping the water with my paddle.My arms, my shoulders, my whole body was tense. I gasped fora breath.And then a voice from somewhere inside whispered,“Stop.”I stopped. I took a slow breath.I lifted my paddle from the water and let my canoe drift.I stopped telling myself jungle stories. I stopped my Tarzandrama. I just stopped. Stopped and took a long slow breath.Then another.And another.And another.Finally, I forced a little smile.“Hola, rio.” I whispered. Took a breath. Let it out.“Buena noche, ¿no?”The sounds of the jungle softened. The stars brightened. Theriver slowed.I lifted my paddle and gently dipped it into the soft starsparkledriver. I pulled it slowly through the calm waters.Breathing in, I know that I am here, now.(Dip the paddle, pull the water, glide.)Breathing out, I know that I am now here.(No longer inventing scary jungle stories.)In…. here.(Not thinking about the English lessons I just gave; not planninghow to get up the muddy slope when I get home.)Out….here.(Dip, pull, glide.)Here in this present moment.(New trees above me, new stars. New water below, new fishand mud and snakes. The air I now breathe is not the air of mylast breath.)Here in this wonderful moment.(Dip, pull, glide.)After a while I saw some white tree trunks that looked familiarand dipping my paddle in, pulling back easily, I glided slowlytoward them. I had arrived. I was home.“Try living like that,” the Yanomono River said.“Thanks for the dharma talk,” I smiled.The next day it rained most of the day. About an hour beforesunset, when the rain had stopped, I took a small bucket to mycanoe to bail out the rainwater. I also expected to bail out that hugetarantula that I had shook from my hair the night before.There was no tarantula. In the rainwater, in the bottom of mydugout canoe, a small purple flower floated.During the months I lived in the jungle, I became friends withthe trees that lined the banks of the Yanomono River and familiarwith its “S” turns. I came to know the sounds of the jungle and itssmells. I recognized the reeds on the left that meant the river wasgoing to wind to the right; the wide space overhead that meant Iwas to go straight; the cluster of white-barked trees that meant I wasgetting close to home; the hoarse frogs that meant I had arrived.Aware that I was surrounded by friends—the river, the stars,the trees, the sounds, the smells—I was no longer so afraid. In fact,most of the time I was awed by the majesty—by the miracle—ofit all.It was the Yanomono River, deep in the jungle of Peru,that taught me The Better Way to Live Alone.*The “Elder Sutra” as well asthe “Discourse on Knowingthe Better Way to Live Alone”can be found beginning onpage 234 of The Plum VillageChanting and Recitation Book.Both are the subject of OurAppointment with Life byThich Nhat Hanh, whichalso includes his beautifulcommentary on them.Terry Masters, True Actionand Virtue, lives in Austin,Texas where she practiceswith the Plum BlossomSangha. She has justreturned from anothermonth teaching Englishin the jungle of Peru.drawing by Terry Mastersthe Mindfulness Bell 19