Fragrant Palm Leaves: Journals, 1962-1966

Reading Thich Nhat Hanh's 'Essential Writings' is like having Michael Jordan teach you how to play basketball. The focus is not on the dazzling tricks. It's about the fundamentals. And they are few --- compassion, mindfulness, tolerance, breathing. Hearing Thich Nhat Hanh lecture is to experience holiness on a very high order. We once drove hours to hear him talk about death. You would expect him to focus on theology. But what I took away was completely practical: Hold the dying person's feet, as he/she may not feel connected to the earth. But it is when he is most personal that Thich Nhat Hanh is at his best. And 1962 to 1966 were key years for him. With some other "committed" Buddhist monks, he had tried to broker peace in his native Vietnam. No one --- not even the Buddhist hierarchy --- wanted any. In 1966, he was exiled. (He didn't return to Vietnam for 40 years.) 'Fragrant Palm Leaves' begins in a cabin in the New Jersey woods. It's 1962. Thich Nhat Hanh is 36. American troops have not yet been dispatched to Vietnam, but there has already been death aplenty. Thich Nhat Hanh, sick of heart, has come to teach and study at Columbia University. The journals begin with scenes of a peace that Thich Nhat Hanh can find anywhere, even in this unfamiliar country: "Some mornings I stay in the woods all day, strolling leisurely beneath the trees and lying down on the carpet of soft moss, my arms folded, my eyes looking up to the sky. In those moments, I'm a different person; it would probably be accurate to say that I am 'my true' self." He is childlike: "Today I went with two eight-year-old boys to pick some [berries], and we stuffed our mouths until they turned blue!" Surrounded by nature, he can't help recalling Phuong Boi, the monastery he and some friends built in Vietnam. In 1957, its 60 acres cost $140. "Here, for the first time," he recalls, "we were sheltered from the harshness of worldly affairs." On full moon nights, in deep silence, he watches, in awe, as the moon and forest merge. By day, he works the land, meditates and prays. Walking can't express his joy at being here --- so he runs. You may feel a great peace as you read his account of daily life at the monastery. At the same time, you'll feel a deep dread --- you know this peace can't last. And, soon enough, the arrests begin: "You could be accused of being a Viet Cong by anyone who opposed you." For Thich Nhat Hanh, the war is both external and internal. "Finding truth is not the same as finding happiness," he cautions. "You aspire to see the truth, but once you have seen it, you cannot avoid suffering." And does he ever suffer! "I feel the unbearable pain of a woman who is about to give birth to a child she already knows will be sentenced to death." But he always finds a balance. Suffering is a wonder. It helps us learn "how to ride the waves of impermanence, smiling as one who knows he has never been born and will never die." In 1964, he returns to Vietnam, and the ideas he

Even if you're not interested in Buddhism, this book offers food for our everyday thoughts. Written in a clean, lucid style, Thich Nhat Hahn shares moments from his life during the tubulent period of the 1960's. From the shores of a lake in New Jersey, to the bustling streets of New York City, back again to his beloved homeland of Vietnam, Nhat Hahn's experiences appear to have provided him with valuable insight, strengthing his resolve in matters concerning compassion and love. For those who enjoy memoirs, this book is a must read. His approach to writing is simple, yet poetic, offering sections both humorous and sad. In other words, it's about life in the here and now.

Thich would not need my review of his work. I can no longer wash my hands and not think of rain and mountain streams.This is an incredible memoir and philosophical discussion. Thich uses the memoir as a vehicle to teach his philosophy. But in that you can still sense the pain of loss, the pain and frustration of rejection by his country and his abandonment. But it is also a hopeful piece. He does not let the external struggle defeat his soul and his personal peace. He accepts wars and destruction as things he must try to change but must not allow to change him. The beauty of this book is its honesty. Thich's religion is attractive as a portrait of his individual testimony and light. There is also a history in the story. A struggle of a simple man and a patriot. A patriot who perhaps lost the war for now.Also a man who understands that thought and love and peace are separate from the boundaries of politics and culture. He may have lost his war at home, but he certainly won a larger war.-Mike

I agree with every word of the review written by the Jerusalem reviewer found on this page! This slender volume contains much that could save the world, indeed the profound beauty that emanates from the soul of this revered teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh, is such that one is transformed by it fundamentally each time one soaks up its light. These journals, covering especially those periods of his life that manifested for him tremendous human strengths within himself, and from which he has conscientiously built a kind of life-giving ark for the rest of us, are a joy to read, and read again. Everything Nhat Hanh writes is essential. Nothing is wasted, or wastefully passive. Interior action is his watchword, and his own life's example. The milieu of violence and war that so influenced his early adult life he has transformed into a life-giving teaching for humankind. The mark of the poet is everywhere in these pages- slaying the mediocre, lifting up the discarded, transforming the lost. One really cannot praise adequately this unique and gentle volume. If you seek to understand the nature of suffering, its true character, the inevitability of its power to redeem, and are unafraid of confronting the chagrin of your own wastefulness and fearfulness, read this book. It can only leave you freer.

At one point Thich Nhat Hanh writes: "The storm will break at any moment. We can't hide our heads in the sand. We must be like the trees. We must dispel all indifference and uncertainty and be ready to face the storm. We cannot remain attached to our youthful innocence. We must strengthen ourselves for the coming test." And this for me is representative of the book - simple yet strong, rooted, inspiring. Beautifully written and fascinating. Nhat Hanh is 36 years old; in exile in America, remembering the community he built in Vietnam. It is remarkable that he wrote it nearly 40 years ago; and for those who know of his subsequent achievements and writings it reads prophetically also - the strength and simplicity of his outlook shine through.