Walking with Thay

By Susan Poulos

Two birds sit high atop a happy pine tree, enjoying the Mississippi sunshine and life.

One says, “Dear sister, do you know what just happened?” 

“My dear sister. Yes, and no,” the other responds. 

Two sisters stand at the base of this tall tree. 

Kimmy asks, “Dear sister, do you know what just happened?” 

I respond, “My dear sister. Yes, and no!”

It’s the last day of the Order of Interbeing retreat at Magnolia Grove Meditation Practice Center, and we’re all bathed in the energy of mindfulness. With sunshine and fresh air, we breathe and walk in much happiness. The Fourfold Sangha walks together to Thay’s hut across the grass, past the meditation hall, into the forest, and down the narrow shaded path.

The sound of feet touching the Earth, walking softly on grass, dirt, gravel, and slate, accompanies the sound of birds singing all around.

We arrive at Thay’s humble, sweet hut and file up the steps onto the deck, where we calmly and joyfully remove our shoes and cross the threshold into the main room—a small wood-paneled room with an enormous picture window overlooking the deck and the forest. In front of the window is a low table made from a cross section of an enormous tree trunk. We compress ourselves into the small space in silent reverence.  The Sangha sits in gratitude, breathing, and tears flow all around: tears of joy, love, gratitude, and concern for Thay. We breathe together as an organism and soak in this precious opportunity.

Sister Joy tells us that the tree has more than one hundred rings and is at least that many years old. She says the last time Thay was at Magnolia Grove, in 2013, he touched the table and told her that the table contained his energy, and that if she ever felt overwhelmed or needed extra encouragement or energy, she could come back and touch the table to get an infusion of Thay’s energy.

We sing beautiful songs, and Brother Radiance shares about the preciousness of the Fourfold Sangha. He says that we are Thay’s disciples and we carry his continuation, and how fortunate we are to have the right conditions to come back together for the Order of Interbeing retreat that provides and receives nourishment and restoration.

We absorb and assimilate the energy of Thay and the energy of the fourfold community. At the sound of the bell, we stand and begin to empty the crowded hut.

Kimmy, Du, Guido, and I stay to take photos with Sister Joy and Sister Boi Nghiem. Sister Joy asks if we want to see Thay’s sleeping room.

A wave of profound reverence washes over us as we all bow and smile. We approach Thay’s room, and Sister Boi Nghiem taps the door three times before we enter.  

When the door opens, the energy of Thay is palpable—such kindness, love, and understanding. Such wisdom! As we cross the threshold into Thay’s room, tears of gratitude and joy stream down our faces. It is like being in the presence of the soft, shining light of the full moon as it emits gentle, sweet, ever-embracing love (to use the words of Sister Dang Nghiem in her book, Mindfulness as Medicine, about the quality of mindfulness) and illuminates every cell of our beings.

There is Thay’s bed. So sweet and simple. A plain mattress resting on a little platform on the floor. There are Thay’s shoes—small brown clogs, well worn with thousands of mindful steps underneath them.

Sister Joy tells us that after Thay had a stroke in 2014, the monastics at Magnolia Grove asked for a pair of his shoes to be brought back to the monastery. The shoes in front of us were worn by Thay for seven years.

Kimmy and I stay in the room, both touching the Earth in front of Thay’s bed and his shoes. Kimmy kisses the mattress and the shoes. We can’t leave—we don’t want to leave because a transmission is occurring at this moment, a transmission of love, compassion, and discipleship. We are aware of our responsibility to carry and transmit our practice of love, understanding, and mindfulness to transform suffering in ourselves, our families, our communities, and all beings.

Every cell of my body is illuminated for a moment by Thay’s love. I remember that I didn’t find this practice; this practice found me sixteen years ago, when Thay (metaphorically) tapped me on the shoulder in the very midst of deep suffering. It appeared in the form of a library book and cassette tape by Thay. This was very similar to the experience Kimmy had—she was introduced to Thay through a book and a deep desire to transform suffering.

Kimmy and I finally stand, trembling, with tears streaming down our faces. Blood and love course through our veins; our ancestors and descendants are all present, witnessing this moment.

What has happened?

We stand, breathing and smiling, enjoying this exquisite moment, this precious communication. When the moment is right, we walk out of the humble room and return to the wooden table and touch it, absorbing more of Thay’s consciousness and love.

We take more photos with our friends, and then it is time to go. Kimmy and I walk slowly, with the sensation that we are not walking but Thay is literally walking through us. We are not separate from Thay. We are Thay!

We walk from Thay’s hut across the open field, over grass and ground, just as Thay did many times on each of his visits to Magnolia Grove. We walk in his footsteps. We are Thay! Our steps light and easy. Solid and free. Synchronized together, with no separation, we inter-are!

We walk in silence, in joy, feeling the fresh air on our skin, in our lungs. Hearing our soft footprints and birdsongs all around, we walk on the Earth, across the cosmos, with all beings—seen and unseen, born and unborn. We walk in limitless time and space. We walk in pure love in the Pure Land.

We hold on to one another, elbows linked, hands softly joined, enjoying the experience. We come to a stopping place outside the dining hall just as the formal walking meditation begins. We watch the river of brothers and sisters flow by—all ages, heights, and shapes. The river flows happily.

Kimmy and I stand there, holding hands and breathing. Without words, we understand what is happening. Our faces wet with tears, we stand together watching the procession thin; soon we are the only people remaining. 

Two birds atop a pine tree begin a conversation.

“Sister, do you know what just happened?”

“Dear sister, yes, and no!”

As Kimmy and I hear the birds speaking our thoughts, we burst out laughing. We laugh hard. Both of our faces begin to ache from so much smiling. The birds continue to talk, and we listen, laughing. We are changed forever.

After a while, the laughing slows down and we look at one another. 

“Let’s go take care of our feelings now,” Kimmy says.

“Yes, sister, but I don’t want this moment to end!”

“Don’t worry, this moment won’t end. It will just continue.”

Susan Poulos, True Fragrant Magnolia, enjoys practicing with Deep River Sangha in Greensboro, North Carolina. She was ordained into the Order of Interbeing in 2011 at Magnolia Grove under a huge tent, before the Rising Tide Meditation Hall was built.