Really Get Into It

“It’s also important to get into what’s left of nature. Really get into it. 
Walk across a moor for an afternoon - be open to it, whatever the weather. 
Let yourself be affected by it. 
Because when you feel nature and adapt to it, when you let it adjust the way you walk,
your speed, your directions and plans, then you come to love it. 
This is your teacher or your mother, and you love it. 
And what you love deeply, you’ll sacrifice for. ”

— Ajahn Sucitto

Kumu June with baby Kaia, daughter of Junko and Man Chow, and newest Halau member.

We practiced hula outside together (socially distanced) a week ago in front of the Field House at Thatcher Woods in Illinois. It’s the first time we’ve danced together and outside since Covid arrived in mid-March. It was glorious!!! 

I had forgotten, how inspiring something as simple as dancing on the grass on the wide commons under a big cloudy sky could be. Dancing surrounded by trees that danced with us when the wind blew had such huge effects on my entire being.

It was a symphony of leaves rustling as branches bent and swayed with us. I heard a squirrel, in a nearby tree, chirping with me as I chanted the songs of Pele, our volcano goddess, and her sister, Hi’iakaikapoliopele, goddess of hula and healing.

Once I looked up at the sky and saw a hummingbird. It’s wings were beating fast but it stayed stationary, defying gravity, magically facing the tree's tall boughs. 

There is also a beautiful energy that builds when we physically dance together - just like when we meditate together. Being in nature amplifies that energy.

One of my favorite dances is Kukaniloko - to anchor the cry within - about the birthing stones on Oahu. It was taught to us by Kuana Torres Kahele. I love the message of the mele (song). There are so many feelings swirling about these days of Covid and the upcoming presidential election. Kukaniloko teaches us to be patient and work with our feelings instead of reacting. Notice them, pause, and bear witness to them.

You don't have to change your feelings, but to work skillfully with them, you must breathe and notice how they feel in your body. Also notice your thoughts and try not to feed them. Shift your focus to your breath, go for a walk or practice loving kindness for you and your feelings. Say to yourself over and over again like a soothing mantra, "May I be safe. May I be happy. May I be healthy. May I live with ease."

When we danced this mele, I knew we all put our everything into the dance. We were the women giving birth, the birds, the sound of the pahu (drums).  I noticed that the wind, whipping up a bit and rushing through the trees, caused them to sway in unison with us - exhilarating and still we kept our focus! 

We danced ancient and modern hula in this marvelous environment for two hours. I felt so grounded and embodied. By the time we left, Thatcher Woods was not just a park but our dear, dear old friend connected by a strong aloha (love).

Malama pono (take good care of body, mind, and heart),

June Kaililani Ryushin Tanoue

Kumu Hula, Sensei

P.S. Please vote everyone! And if you want to do something valuable go to Vote Forward, https://votefwd.org/ and sign up to send non-partisan letters to important swing states. It's easy to do and you'll be helping to turn out the vote!

It's Loving That Leads to Love

“When I’m moved to complain about others, I vow with all beings to remember that karma is endless and it’s loving that leads to love.”

— Robert Aitken

Chicago’s hot summer weather is changing into that of September - mild, sunny with cool morning breezes. Darkness comes earlier each evening. A full harvest moon lights up the vast sky, gentle and strong.

I’ve been meditating a lot these last six days during our silent zen retreat. I’m not trying to become enlightened. I’m just being still. Breathing. I’m trying different, subtle physical postures to see if I can breathe easier like lowering my chin or straightening my back a little more by stretching the crown of my head upwards. I’m noticing a lot of thoughts which sometimes I hang out with them and sometimes let go. I’m noticing how my brain likes to think. I’m noticing that sitting helps me cut out distractions and come home to myself.

Humility is a key teaching in Zen as well as Hula. I know how the blinding light of Ego keeps me from seeing reality as it is vs how I want to see it. Ego always has to dominate. It’s like when you’re in a room at night, and you have a light on but you can only see the inside of the room and can’t see out through the window. If you turn the light off, you can see outside much more. 

So, how to turn off the light?

Letting go is one way to dim the light of Ego. Try letting go of having to be right, of grudges, of the busy-ness we’ve let surround our days. How do we live a life that is full of ha (breath/life) and aloha (deep love/compassion) for self and other?

Remember that wisdom goes hand-in-hand with aloha. Pono means wisdom that comes from being grounded in goodness and uprightness. It is to listen, to be prepared, to respect all, to sacrifice, and to be patient. This is pono - doing what needs to be done in the circumstance you find yourself in, with humility, aloha, and steadfastness.

And pule (prayer) or meditation is also so important. In prayer/meditation we can see and feel our connection to our Kupuna (ancestors); their ‘ike (insight); the elemental forces of Nature: earth, water, wind, fire; and to each other. That is sacred. That is loving which leads to ever more love.

Malama pono (take good care of body, mind, and heart),

June Kaililani Ryushin Tanoue

Kumu Hula, Sensei

P.S. Sending pule (prayers) for people and all beings in California where fires are burning. Also prayers for all who are affected by Covid.

P.P.S. Watch a recent talk on youtube that Sensei June gave during the silent retreat on Genjo Koan and Love or listen to our Sunday Morning Zen podcasts. Listen to an interview that Nance Klehm did with Kumu June last month on her Spontaneous Vegetation program.

Ceremony is Our Prayer

“Ceremony is our pule (prayer) - it ascends and is heard by your land, our kupuna (ancestors), by our akua (god). It unifies us with one intention - connects us to our kupuna, their ‘ike (knowledge); elemental forces that surrounds - land, water, wind, rain, lava. We put aside shame and self-consciousness to unite our leo (voice), na’au (gut, mind, heart) and intention - altogether. Ceremonies are passed down - it’s a lineal connection and commitment to the kupuna.”

— Leilani Lindsey-Ka’apuni

June Ryushin Tanoue and Linda Gyokuzan Warring

I just took part in a beautiful Zen novitiate priest ordination called Shukke Tokudo this past Sunday for a member of our Zen community. To prepare for the ceremony, Linda shaved her head. This is a big step for many people. It’s what novitiates do traditionally. It’s a letting go of vanity and fear. It’s not required.

To be a zen priest is to renounce - to let go of everything you have and thereby to see that everything you are and have is in the service of dharma. For me dharma, like hula, means life.

It’s about healing and helping others. We offer the merit of our prayers to people who are ill or dying. We practice loving kindness with all we meet including ourselves when needed. It’s feeding hungry people with food as well as friendship.

Another important practice is humility/ha’a ha’a. It’s sacrificing the need to be right all the time. It’s practicing being open and ok with not knowing. It’s respecting everyone and seeing that everyone is your teacher. 

As Linda took her vows on Sunday, it was an opportunity for all in the community to remember why we practice and to consider again our universally applicable values. Affirm life, don’t kill. Be giving, don’t steal. Honor the body, don’t misuse sexuality. Manifest Truth, don’t lie. Proceed clearly, don’t cloud the mind. See perfection, don’t speak of others’ errors or faults. Realize Self and Other as One. Don’t elevate the self and blame others. Give generously, don’t withhold. Actualize harmony, don’t indulge in anger. Experience the intimacy of things-as-they-are, don't defile the Three Treasures.

This is the fourth time I’ve shaved my head as part of my practice as a zen priest. There is always a sense of freedom when I do it. As I let go of my hair, I also let go of thoughts: about how I look better with hair, or that people might think it’s weird, or have cancer, or whatever. Afterwards I enjoy the direct feel of water on my head as I shower, the cool morning air on my scalp as I sweep the front sidewalk, the sandpapery feel against my pillowcase or hand as the hair quickly grows back. 

But more than that, it’s an opportunity to remember my vows. Vows that seem impossible yet spur me on to do my best to live them. I was moved when I heard Leilani Lindsey-Ka’apuni talk about ceremony as pule/prayer. She is one of the ki’ai/protectors of Mauna Kea and the 'aina/land. I too believe that ceremony as prayer ascends and pervades - heard by our land, our ancestors, our god. It unifies us with one intention to connect with our ancestors, their knowledge, and the essential elements. Ceremonies are our lineal connection and commitment to the ancestors in service to life.

Malama pono (take good care of body, mind, and heart),

June Kaililani Ryushin Tanoue

Kumu Hula, Sensei

P.S. Here's a slide-show of the behind the scenes and ordination ceremony for Linda Gyokuzan Warring. Mahalo to Israel Kamakawiwo'ole for his timeless song and Liz Carabello for her photographs.

Do You Know How Important You Are?

“Do you know how important you are?”

— Maya Angelou

Summer Solstice is here in Oak Park, IL! The linden trees across the street are laden with fragrant flowers. I’ve started hugging the elm tree outside the front door whenever I water the plants in our beautiful new Dharma Path garden. The elm gives me deep feelings of calm and peace. Everywhere there are luscious bursts of green leaves and flowers. The weather is hot and muggy in Chicago, but there’s a breeze blowing with a promise of rain by the end of day.

I watched a documentary about Maya Angelou and David Chapelle. She told of an encounter, on the set of Poetic Justice, with Tupac Shakur. Two young black men were verbally cursing at each other. Angelou took hold of one young man saying to him in the midst of his anger, “Do you know how important you are? Do you know how our people lay spoon fashion in the slave ships in their own and each other’s excrement, urine and menstrual flow so that you could live? Do you know that a lot of us stood on auction blocks so that you could live? When’s the last time anyone told you how important you are?” 

She said that then his tears started to flow and the fight stopped. She learned later the name of the young man was Tupac Shakur, now considered to be one of the most significant rappers of all time and a symbol of resistance and activism against inequality. 

We’re witnessing an incredible time of speaking out and demonstrating for what we think to be right and just. Black, Brown, Red and Yellow Lives Matter. They haven’t mattered nearly enough for a long time because of deep insidious racist thinking. It’s going to take effort, but we can change, and we must.

I turned 70 this month and appreciate my parents and my grandparents and their parents for all the sacrifices they went through that shaped who I am. Hawaiians know this connection to kupuna/ancestors and understand that we are part of the past, present and future. 

This month is also the 20th anniversary of my ‘uniki/graduation as kumu hula. An ‘uniki is a recognition of one’s place in a lineage. And though I consider myself an imperfect link, I nevertheless embrace my tradition and try my best to carry it forward. I have spent 32 years practicing hula, almost half of those years teaching it. Hula nourishes me. It reminds me of my deep connection with Nature for Hula is Nature and Nature is Life. 

We dance for the sake of it. Hula is the energy of Nature, of our kupuna, of life, and of divine love. It is a gift of grace for our times to help us to become clear about truth and how to stand for it.

Do you know how important you are?

Malama pono (take good care of body, mind, and heart)

June Kaililani Ryushin Tanoue

Kumu Hula, Sensei

What You Are Really Prepared to Give Up

“Ask yourself what
you are really
prepared
to give up
in order to be free.”

— Uppalavana the first free women - poems of the early buddhist nuns  translated by Matty Weingast.

On Friday mornings, a group of us has gotten together after meditation to share our favorite poetry. We’ve been doing this for a few years. Now, during coronavirus times, we have continued to meet on zoom. More people have joined us as a result including Jason Poole from Pennsylvania!

This past Sunday in honor of Bob Dylan’s birthday our Friday morning group shared poetry during our Sunday Morning Zen. I shared an amazing poem written by Uppalavana, the Buddha’s foremost female disciple. She was beautiful and the daughter of a wealthy merchant so she had many suitors. Another sutra says she had a tumultuous marriage and may have been a courtesan. Instead of marrying [again] she entered the monastic life under the Buddha.

The poem is taken from the book, “the first free women - poems of early buddhist nuns” translated by Matty Weingast. It’s from the Therigatha (Verses of the Elder Nuns), one of the sacred texts of early Buddhism. It’s the world’s oldest collection of women’s literature. 

There are powerful images in this poem. Uppalavana has practiced hard. She knows her mind and how it can be used either as a knife or a chain. Her last line, “Ask yourself what you are really prepared to give up in order to be free” is one that I’ve contemplated.

Freedom. What is freedom? Freedom from what? Freedom from unpleasant thoughts and feelings? Freedom from society’s expectations? Freedom from your own expectations and judgments? Freedom from having to be right all the time? In the poem she says she handled the darkness with a chain. What does that mean? Does that mean it weighed on her? Yet she also says there is great strength in the darkness.

In my Zen tradition, sitting with a question that doesn’t have a ready answer is good practice. By that I mean to meditate with the question in your mind and staying open to not knowing or having to come up with an answer. Then just notice what comes up for you. Bearing witness, without judgment, to whatever arises is the next practice. Is anxiety, sadness, anger, confusion arising? Can you just sit and be with the feelings and let go of your thoughts?  Then can you return to your breath, your breathing body? 

If you do this practice with intention, commitment and regularity, something good will happen, something that can change your life. Just as meditation changed Uppalavana.

Malama pono (take care of body, mind and heart),

June Kaililani Tanoue

Kumu Hula, Sensei

This is Humanity's Wake Up Call

“This is humanity’s wake up call. As we awaken to the truth of the profound failure of our existing institutions we also awaken to the truth of our possibilities and interconnections with one another and with the earth. With that awakening comes the recognition that we must live lightly on the earth. To war no more, to dedicate ourselves to the well-being of all in an interdependent world.”

— David Korton

It has been 6 weeks now that we’ve been sheltering-in-place. What a huge change this has been for all of us around the world! A shake-up of our “normal” lives into something totally different. I wonder how this will change our ways of thinking and being?

We’d been living quite a “caterpillar” existence pre-coronavirus — consuming, consuming, consuming. We were defined and valued as consumers. Names are powerful - we tend to live up to them. But now everything has stopped. We’re not purchasing as much as we have been. 

Two weeks ago, David Loy spoke at our Sunday Morning Zen and talked about the lifecycle of a caterpillar. The most interesting stage is the chrysalis.

The chrysalis stage is when consuming stops. This is a time when things change dramatically. The caterpillar dies and slowly changes into a soupy goo. Imaginal cells that were originally in the caterpillar continue to live and feed off of this goo. 

Initially, these imaginal cells operate as single-cell organisms - entirely independent of one another. Then they start to multiply and connect with one another forming clusters. At some point they stop acting as individual, separate cells and, instead, transform into a multiple-celled organism - a butterfly! 

Like those imaginal cells, we may initially think that we’re separate beings, but deep down I think that we know that we’re interconnected. The virus has made that clear. It’s also clear that we are all the same in that we all want to be happy, avoid illness and other negative impacts.

This chrysalis phase we find ourselves in, like the butterfly’s chrysalis, is wisdom and compassion. Imaginal cells come together like people coming together to help each other. What will emerge has got to be as magnificent as a butterfly.

I give my deep gratitude to all those working in the health care professions and food industry - farmworkers, farmers, grocery store workers, restauranteurs who make food and people who deliver helping many of us shelter-in-place relatively easily. 

Thank you to those in the teaching profession for helping our children to keep learning in a new way. And mahalo nui to all the people helping others by making masks, sheltering the ill, and being kind.

Malama pono (take care of body, mind and heart),

June Kaililani Tanoue

Kumu Hula/Sensei

---

Zen Life & Meditation Center's ZenCare - Mask Making Project

Our ZenCare team of some 30 volunteers have been coming together to cut, sew, and deliver masks to members and non-profit organizations who serve disadvantaged populations.

Numerous people have also donated money, fabric and sewing supplies. We just received a donation of 1,000 metal nose pieces from the Smart International Association of Sheet Metal Workers Local #73!!!

TO DATE:

600 masks made

577 distributed

Thanks to the ZenCare Team!!!

Your Place is the Storm's Eye of the Universe

“Today

Today I’m flying low and I’m
not saying a word.
I’m letting all of the voodoos of ambition
sleep.

The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.

But I’m taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I’m traveling
a terrific distance.

Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.”

— Mary Oliver

A week and a half ago, when news of the coronavirus was just starting to heat up, I woke up from an early morning dream with this thought, “Your place is the storm’s center of the universe.” I’ve been sitting with this since then - not sure of its meaning. After last week of sitting in a silent mediation retreat, I’m a little clearer.

The storm’s eye is the eye of a hurricane where all is calm and peaceful. Yet it is right in the midst of dangerous, swirling, and destructive winds. Your place is where you belong yes like your home or our Zen center. But more than that, it’s the center in the midst of your being where no matter what, all is absolutely still and calm and grounded. It’s your hub of awareness, the very ground of being.

This ground of being is who we essentially are. We get so distracted and fragmented from it by our thoughts fueled by news and social media that we become top heavy — living in our heads. This causes stress and suffering. 

The coronavirus has given many of us precious time. It’s time to reconnect to our whole selves. Now we can get back to basics: take good care of our physical bodies by resting, eating healthy, exercising and sleeping. And taking good care of our minds through meditation. Then we can nurture relationships with our family and friends. 

Fear has an intelligence. We become more alert and mindful of where our hands are and what they touch. We notice our distance between people. We clean mindfully. That’s how we practice safety and prevention. Fearlessness comes from entering fear and bearing witness to it. It’s deep listening to how our body and mind are responding. Fear is always about loss. 

So we notice our thoughts and give ourselves empathy with loving attention. We work to gently release our grip on the stories we tell ourselves that are not helpful. We practice returning to the body through the breath over and over again. This is mindfulness meditation that strengthens our hub of awareness and our frontal cortex that modulates our fear response and brings us back to emotional balance. 

This place of deep calm abiding is our storm’s eye of the universe. This is our true home. It is who we are.

Malama pono (take care of body, mind and heart),

June Kaililani Tanoue, Kumu Hula/Sensei

Run to the Rescue with Love, and Peace Will Follow

“I have been a scoundrel all my life, I’ve been selfish. I’ve been cruel at times, hard to work with, and I’m grateful that so many of you in this room have given me a second chance. I think that’s when we’re at our best: when we support each other. Not when we cancel each other out for our past mistakes, but when we help each other to grow. When we educate each other; when we guide each other towards redemption.  
That is the best of humanity.

When he was 17, my brother River wrote this lyric. He said, 
”Run to the rescue with love, and peace will follow.””

— Joaquin Phoenix Acceptance Speech for Best Actor 2020 Academy Awards 2/9/20

June Tanoue teaching Mindfulness at Holmes Elementary School in Oak Park. Photo by Nicole Sumida

It was a cold, brisk 10 minute walk from the parking lot to the security stationed at the entrance of Cook County Jail’s Division 11.   

We showed our volunteer ID and walked into Division 11’s big open atrium.  I noticed signs warning not to carry guns and in the atrium there were the words Gun Locker that was above what looked like big mailboxes.

I and two other Zen Center volunteers were there to observe a mindfulness meditation class that Claire Seryak was teaching to 10 maximum security detainees.  

We met Claire, the teacher, there.  A white officer dressed in navy blue came to escort us to the gymnasium.  He lit up when he heard we were there for Zen meditation and joked saying that it was something he could use.  We walked to a door marked C - the maximum security section - and when the door opened there was an African American man with a big bag of trash.  It looked a little ominous and I noticed a quick flash of fear come up for me.  

We were escorted into a concrete gymnasium with a lone basketball hoop and doors that had rectangular windows.  Ten African American detainees in identical worn, tan, cotton scrubs sat in sturdy, slightly beat up, plastic chairs in a big circle.  I casually looked around to see if there were any guards outside the doors.  I didn't see any.  Here we were, 4 women in a large room, with 10 maximum security detainees.

I quickly assessed the danger factor and it seemed manageable though I was still a little on edge.   My friend and co-volunteer Ruth told me once that you're absolutely safe when you volunteer at the jail.  But I also remembered that a detainee had just been murdered in his cell.  

I'm conscious of my demeanor when I'm volunteering in jail.  I know what I reflect affects others.  So I consciously worked to relax as the mindfulness teacher talked.  When it came time to introduce myself, I spoke about how important the practice of mindfulness meditation was to strengthen your brain's frontal cortex which has everything to do with emotional balance, impulse control and fear modulation.  I said that mindfulness meditation helps you to be aware of what you're thinking and doing and it's how you start to change habits that no longer serve you.

In the middle of my brief introduction, I noticed that I felt like crying - sobbing actually.  I didn't act on it and kept talking, putting the energy of that feeling into what I was saying to the men.  

The class started with three very fun mindfulness games where we paired up.  I was paired with an African American man.  It's a game where you have to really pay attention to what the other is doing.  Then came some gentle standing yoga movements.  I shared some energy medicine movement.  And then they meditated for 20 minutes at the end of which I and others felt very calm and peaceful.

On the way home I told Ruth how I felt when I was doing my introduction.  She asked if I knew what I was feeling?  I wasn't sure why I felt like crying and thought that maybe it was because I was sad and felt for the men.  She said what always gets her is feeling the indomitable spirit of people who are in such inhumane conditions. She quoted Edward Abbey who wrote, "There is a god and his name is ‘Carry On.’”

She said in Denmark and Sweden prisons are totally different than our's. Prison there is about rehabilitation and it’s proved to be effective with lower incarceration and crime rates.

I loved the statement by Joaquin Phoenix when he won the best actor award at the 2020 Academy Awards.  Supporting each other is when we are at our best.  Yes, we make mistakes, but we're not written off because of them and instead help each other to grow.  That is the best of humanity.

Malama pono (take care of body, mind and heart),

June Kaililani Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sensei

P.S.  Keeping this slideshow of our trip to Hawaii last December to warm your winter day.  The beautiful music “Color in Your Heart” and “Let's Kiss the Sky” is by my very dear friends on Hawaii Island Keoki Apokolani Carter and Yvonne Yarber from their new album  “Auwe Nohoʻi Pili ʻĀina Kahi.”  Enjoy and Happy Valentine's Day!!!

Learn All You Can, Then Practice

“O ke kahua mamua, mahope ke kukulu.
The site first, and then the building.
Learn all you can, then practice.”

— 'Olelo No'eau by Mary Kawena Pukui Hawaiian Proverbs & Poetical Sayings # 2459

Attending class with my Kumu Hula Michael Pili Pang and my hula sisters, Waimea, Hawaii Island December 2019

I just looked up from my desk and noticed beautiful white clouds, kind of scrappy looking with blue sky poking through cottony wispy holes.  A mass of these clouds moved across the Chicago sun, slowly yet energetically as if pushed by brisk winds.  

It's the Makahiki season in Hawaii.  This is the ancient Hawaiian new year festival that covers four consecutive lunar months in honor of the god Lono.  It used to be a time of spiritual cleansing and offerings to the gods and local ali'i, rest, practicing sports, dancing, and renewing communal bonds.  Warfare was forbidden. 

The season is marked by specific cloud formations, life giving rain and peace.  Our stay in Hawaii included a weekend of very strong 50 - 60 mph winds, drenching night rains as well as warm, humid sea air, gentle breezes, rainbows and sunny skies.

Hawaii seems like a dream now that two weeks have passed since we got back to Chicago.  But I remember the large stand of Keawe (mesquite) trees we stayed next to - largest in the state. An organic silence emanated from that forest that felt like deep samadhi.  Past the Keawe trees, there was vast open space up to Mauna Kea.  Gazing past the trees to the mountain was healing - something that my body and mind needed.

To the east and south I saw the mountains Mauna Loa and Hualalai.  The Kohala Mountains were to the north.  Zebra doves, francolins, sparrows, mynahs, and a night heron were there.  I even saw five long legged turkeys in someone's driveway on a morning walk.

I visited the kia'i (protectors) of Mauna Kea.  They were still blocking the road up to the mountain from any Thirty Meter Telescope construction vehicles. Other vehicles were passing to the side of the ten.  They've been doing this for over 180 days. They were organized and in good spirits.  

They do ceremonial protocols three times a day every day which includes oil (chanting) and hula.  I attended their noon protocol and joined the hula noa (free) section.  It was energizing to be on the ala (road) dancing with many others I didn't know and yet feeling part of a whole.  We honored the elements and especially Big Mama - Mauna Kea.   At the very end, we gathered all of our intentions/deep aloha and with hands outstretched and palms facing the mountain we sent these blessings to Big Mama.  The love for the mountain was palpable.

I know this issue has been difficult for some to agree upon and has caused splits in family and friends.  Is it possible to appreciate each other even when we disagree?  Is this what it means to practice kapu aloha or sacred love: practicing nonviolent principles of love and respect for others as well as ourselves in the face of great challenge and change?

I hope so.  We need this now more than ever.

Malama pono (take care of body, mind and heart),

June Kaililani Tanoue, Kumu Hula and Sensei

P.S.  Here is a slideshow of our trip to Hawaii.  Beautiful music "Color in Your Heart" and "Let's Kiss the Sky" by Keoki Apokolani Carter and Yvonne Yarber from their new album  "Auwe Nohoʻi Pili ʻĀina Kahi."

Being Love by Loving, I Awaken

“DAYSTART
This day of being blessed by blessing
Being honored by honoring
Being love by loving, I awaken
”

— Bonnie Myotai Treace, Wake Up -How to Practice Zen Buddhism

Joshin and I made it to Kailua-Kona last night after an hour delay at O’Hare and a tight connection in San Francisco!  Our bodies, not used to being squeezed into a small space - the economy seats - for a total of 10 hours, took time to expand again.  ; )

This morning we rose about an hour before a Hawaiian sunrise. The sky slowly lightened with pinks and corals illuminating our lush natural surroundings.  Hawaii is gorgeous.

I hear zebra doves cooing in the distance.  I grew up hearing that cooing every time my family went to the beach.  My father drove the four of us kids and our mom there every other Sunday - what a treat!  We all loved going to the beach.  We packed a delicious lunch.  My father was good at frying up chicken and my mom, sister and I were in charge of making musubi - triangular rice balls with umeboshi (pickled plum) in the middle and nori - seaweed wrapped around it.  

From our balcony we see elegant palms, tall with thin trunks and wind-swept leaves drinking in the beautiful morning light. I recognize three big kukui trees with their full, light green leaves as if I am seeing old friends.  

I can see Hualalai, the mountain, dark green against a clear blue sky. Hualalai last erupted in 1801 and remains an active volcano. After 200 years, its slopes are again green. Houses dot the bottom half of the mountain.  A thick blanket of clouds rolls in to cover the summit during the afternoon and stay through evening.

The light blue sky matches the deep blue of the Moana - the ocean.   I hear Moana as she roars and flows onto the black lava - the pele - fingers of land again and again.  Much of the pele’s sharp edges have been worn smooth by her constant flow.  Sometimes Moana murmurs, sometimes she crashes with great energy. Pele never complains.  She is there like a true friend noticing and bearing witness without trying to change Moana.

Today, we went to Kahalu’u Beach for a swim.   It was a renown snorkeling park with schools of reef fish.  When I snorkeled there 20 years ago, I was entranced by the beautiful fish.  But, I only saw yellow tangs here and there.  Where have all the fish gone?  

Resting and enjoying nature are so important.  Always hustling and bustling about is a good way to forget what's important in life.  December is a time to be with people you love, your family and friends.  You may not always get along but nothing is perfect.  

Tonight I had dinner with my two brothers and sister, talking stories, and laughing.  Catching up.  It was good. I also visited my kumu and hula sisters in the halau I spent many hours dancing in over the 10 years of my training.  It was good to be with them also.

Wishing you, your family, friends and all beings a safe and joyous holiday season!

Malama pono (take care of body, mind and heart),

June Kaililani Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sensei

P.S.  Here is a slide show of Halau I Ka Pono's 10th Anniversary Year - 2019. Photographs by Elizabeth Carabello, Tom Neiman, Robert Althouse and June Tanoue. Beautiful music by Kuana Torres Kahele and Jason Poole. Happy Holidays everyone!!!

Turn the Face to the Wall

“Huli ke alo i ka paia.
Turn the face to the wall.
There is nothing to fear.  To go to sleep with one’s face to the wall 
is an indication of confidence in one’s safety.”

— ~Mary Kawena Pukui, 'Olelo No'eau: #1139 The Hawaiian Book of Proverbs & Poetical Sayings

Halau i Ka Pono dancing at the ZLMC Luncheon Fundraiser

It’s snowing.  Small flakes are swirling in the breeze.  Everywhere is a beautiful white. 

Three of us went to Cook County Jail last Monday to sit with the women detainees in Divison 5, Tier 2L.  We’ve been going weekly to spend an hour on this tier for over a year now.  The women there are waiting for their court date.  A few of the women have been there longer than we've been there.   Sometimes there are 20+ women, sometimes 8 - 10.  

Tier 2L has become part of my extended 'ohana (family).  We meditate for ten minutes, talk a little about what they experienced and answer questions.  Then we sit for at least another 10 minutes.   The room is concrete on all sides.   The walls have pieces of paper taped on them with quotes and art.  

As I was meditating with them last week, I felt a lot of sadness and grief come up for me.  My eyes filled with tears. I didn't know why sadness came up - only that it did.  I focused on the sadness and really felt it.  During the discussion I shared what had happened to me.  It resonated with the women.

One woman said her father-in-law had just died, and she was feeling sad as she contemplated writing an obituary for him.  Another spoke about the deep love she had for her father who had died 10 years ago.  She hadn't really cry when he died or since then.   But every year around the time of his birthday, she starts getting agitated and does something really stupid. She wondered if not grieving and her behavior were related.

I’ve learned through my mindfulness practice that our bodies always remember feelings that haven’t been resolved or integrated.  If we stamp down our feelings and distract ourselves from emotional pain, the pain will return.  My practice of meditation gives me space and time to build courage to face feelings that are uncomfortable.  

When they arise, it’s a message for me to pay full attention. I pay attention to the story that’s running in my brain and work to shift my focus to my breath and sensations in my body.   Sometimes, the answer may not be readily apparent, but there’s no need to figure it out immediately. 

Jack Kornfield spoke about the importance of opening to a full awareness of feelings in his book, A Path with Heart:     "...in Buddhist psychology bringing consciousness to feelings is critical for awakening. In a teaching called the Cycle of the Arising Conditions, the Buddha explains how humans become entangled. 

It is the place of feeling that binds us or frees us. When pleasant feelings arise and we automatically grasp them, or when unpleasant feelings arise and we try to avoid them, we set up a chain reaction of entanglement and suffering. This perpetuates the body of fear. 

However, if we learn to be aware of feelings without grasping or aversion, then they can move through us like changing weather, and we can be free to feel them and move on like the wind. It can be a very interesting meditation exercise to focus specifically on our feelings for several days. We can name each one and see which ones we are afraid of, which we are entangled by, which generate stories, and how we become free. 

'Free' is not free from feelings, but free to feel each one and let it move on, unafraid of the movement of life."

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Malama pono (take care of body, mind and heart),

June Kaililani Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sensei

P.S.  Here is a slide show of ZLMC's 2019 Year in Action.  Photographs by Elizabeth Carabello, Tom Neiman, Susan Sensemann, Robert Althouse and June Tanoue.  Music by Deva Premal & Miten.  Enjoy!

To Anchor The Cry From Within

“Kukaniloko: To anchor the cry from within.”

HIKP 10th Anniversary Celebration, Photo by Elizabeth Carabello

It was an afternoon of aloha (love) to remember. 

Halau i Ka Pono celebrated its 10th anniversary with a performance in our new home.  I started the program and began to chant but could hardly hold it together.  I was so overcome with gratitude and love for what everyone in the Halau throughout the years has accomplished together to bring us to this day.  Tears immediately sprang and my voice weakened as my heart claimed the moment.  

Our dancing began with a chant to Laka, our male/female deity of hula.  Next we humbled ourselves as we came into the presence of the sacred.  We danced the hula pahu (drum dance) in honor of Poliahu, our goddess of compassion and of the snows of Mauna Kea.  

Young and old danced from their pu'uwai (hearts). There were 28 dancers ranging from our youngest, Chloe Hernandez age 7, to our eldest, Cissy Plekavic age 87.  Jason Poole, our dear hula brother, traveled from Pennsylvania to be with us.  He wrote a special song for the occasion called "Aloha is Spoken Here."

Our finale was danced to the song, Kukaniloko (to anchor the cry from within), written and choreographed by Kuana Torres Kahele.  Kukaniloko is the name of a place in Wahiawa, Oahu where certain female chiefs were allowed to give birth.  Hawaiian Civic Club of Wahiawa historian, Kalimapau notes, "This is a place of spirit.  Spirit doesn't know language, nationality or color.  It only knows heart.  We all have a cry from within."

To anchor the cry from within...but how?  When grappling with life's issues and challenges, I find it useful to sit down and anchor myself through the process of mindfulness meditation.  I notice a lot of thoughts swirling around causing discomfort, pain, confusion, hurt, anger, and fear.   Meditation and breath are my anchors in this rough sea.  It's the way I can truly calm my heart.

Letting go of any judgment or opinions when they arise is also helpful.  Saying "not now"  when they arise is helpful in returning focus to your breath.  This is practicing not knowing and then bearing witness to what you do - all with a gentle touch. It is a practice that you can do for the rest of your life.

Cry can mean many things.  According to the dictionary, cry can mean, "a sound or call of an animal; to shout; or shed tears due to pain, distress, rage or anger."  Tears also come when one is deeply joyful.  To anchor the cry from within watch how your heart feels.  Is it broken?  Does it ache? Is it overflowing? Be brave and anchor here for awhile.  Notice what happens.   

Your heart is your anchor, moment by moment.  In your true heart, there are no walls or barriers.  No separation, no fear, no loss - only love.

Malama pono (take care of body, mind and heart),

June Kaililani Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sense

P.S.  Here is a slide show of the 10th Anniversary Performance.  Photographs by Elizabeth Carabello, music by Kuana Torres Kahele.  Enjoy!

Love Gives Life Within

“Ua ola loko i ke aloha. 
Love gives life within.
Love is imperative to one’s mental and physical welfare.”

— Collected, Translated, and Annotated by Mary Kawena Pukui  ʻOlelo Noʻeau - Hawaiian Proverbs & Poetical Sayings  #2836

Kumu Hula Kuana Torres Kahele and Kumu June

September marks the 10th anniversary of Halau I Ka Pono and my 15th year of teaching hula in Oak Park, IL, a Chicago suburb.  Like the rich moss growing on the elm tree outside my window, it's been a good and beautiful decade.  Hula is life and no matter what - great sadness included - it has been a decade abundant with heartfulness.

Last month Kumu Hula Kuana Torres Kahele came to our Halau and zen center to teach a hula kahiko (ancient dance) for Poliʻahu and Mauna Kea.  Poliʻahu is the snow goddess who lives at the top of Mauna Kea.  Poliʻahu is also known as the deity of compassion.  I particularly loved this hula pahu (drum dance).

Kumu Kuana is a kind, generous and very talented man.  I introduced him to Avalokiteshvara, our Buddhist deity of compassion, who sits in our Buddha Hall where we meditate and also dance hula.  It seemed perfect to have Avalokiteshvara watching thirty dancers learn this hula for the Hawaiian deity of compassion.  

This hula for Poliʻahu is so relevant as we watch and cheer the Protectors on Mauna Kea.  It's been over 50 days that they've blocked the road to people who want to build a thirty meter telescope at the top of their sacred mountain!  It's been moving to watch on Facebook all the Hawaiian spiritual practices they perform three times a day there.  Visiting Hawaiians from different islands come to support the Protectors.  They speak in their native tongues and share oli (chants) and hula.  International visitors, celebrities, many Kumu hula and their Halau have also come.  

It's a beautiful thing to watch this resurgence of Hawaiian aloha and support. Something deep is swirling there and changing our concepts of land ownership and indigenous consent.

We are sharing this Poliʻahu hula at our 10th Anniversary Performance on Saturday, September 21, 2019 at 3 pm in our new home at 46 Lake St. in Oak Park.  Please join us.  I'm so happy our brother Jason Poole, now a father and living in Pennsylvania, will also be with us.

Meeting Kumu Kuana reinvigorated my practice of hula.  Though my roots are on Hawaii Island, the land of my birth, I now call Oak Park my home after living here for 15 years.  It's a different culture and landscape.  But the Halau keeps the aloha spirit alive and well here in Chicagoland.  

We are so fortunate to have keiki (children) who love dancing hula in the halau joining our core of women. Four of the women are in their eighties and still dancing strong.  One of these women is also legally blind and does hula sitting regally in a chair.  We also now have men.  

My gratitude goes also to my Kumu Hula Michael Pili Pang, without whom I wouldn't be dancing today in the midst of so many.  I'm fortunate to also have kumu hula sisters whom I've danced with for many years.  They support me from afar.  When I come home to Hawaii Island they refresh me with the dances we have done all our hula lives.

I send special blessings to everyone who has danced with Halau I Ka Pono.  May your lives be be strong and full of aloha!

Love you,

June Kaililani Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sensei

It is a Recognizing of the Right Thing

“He ‘ike ‘ana ia i ka pono. 
It is a recognizing of the right thing.
One has seen the right thing to do and has done it.”

— Collected, Translated, and Annotated by Mary Kawena Pukui  'Olelo Noʻeau - Hawaiian Proverbs & Poetical Sayings  #620

Protect Mauna Kea Rally at Lake Opeka, Chicago by members of Halau Hoʻohiwahiwa i Ka Puʻuwai and Halau i Ka Pono

How do you know when itʻs time to stand up for what you believe in?  In Hawaiian they say, "Whatever you feel in your na’au (guts), you have to do."

When I heard that the Japanese and Asian Americans were rallying to support the rights of immigrants at the Chicago Cultural Center, I knew I had to show up. No second thoughts about it. Their rallying cry was "Never Again is Now!"  

I remembered the stories of my maternal grandfather who was taken away from my grandmother and his 9 children during WW II just because he was Japanese and not because he was guilty of anything. That was wrong.  He was interned at Honouliuli Camp in a dry dusty gulch in central Oahu.  He died there of an aneurysm.  When I found this out many years ago, I said to myself Never Again should this happen to anyone.

Immigration Rally, Chicago July 2019

The night before the rally as I lay in bed trying to sleep, I was surprised to find deep feelings of sadness arising as I thought about my grandfather.  The next morning, my husband and I took the L from Oak Park to the Cultural Center.  As we approached the center I saw about 75 Asian Americans heartily chanting, "Never again is now!"  Long buried grief came up as I stood with them - hardly able to speak because of tears.  I had never really grieved about my grandfather.  He died before I was born. 

But there it was!  My heart felt broken for him, for all the immigrants - children and adults - who had died because we had not cared properly for them.  I stayed silent a lot that morning, just bearing witness to this grief that was finally bubbling up for my grandfather who died some 75 years ago.  Paying deep attention to sorrow was healing for me.

This past Sunday, we did a small rally chanting and singing at Lake Opeka in Chicago to show support for the protectors of Mauna Kea.  

The protectors are Native Hawaiians, their families and friends who are standing up for what they believe in.  They are doing civil disobedience against the building of a $1.4 billion Thirty Meter Telescope (TMT) on the mountain that is the tallest in the world measuring from sea bottom. In Hawaiian tradition, Hawaii Island is the eldest child of sky father Wakea and earth mother Papahanaumoku.  Mauna Kea is the umbilical cord that connects Hawaii to the heavens, and connects humans to land. 

The protectors, numbering in the hundreds to thousands on the weekends, have been blocking big trucks from taking equipment up the mountain for the past 20 days.  And they have vowed to stay there as long as TMT plans to build.

It was a hot day at Lake Opeka, but a stiff breeze blowing off the lake kept us cool.  My dear friend was expressing her opinion about the great possibility of the TMT being built.  As I listened to her, I noticed again this deep grief welling up in me.  This great sadness came from my guts, deep within my na’au.  Noticing this feeling reminded me that grief comes from love.  

I trained as a biologist in college.  I know and appreciate the value of science.  I also trained as a kumu hula.  Kumu hula, like ecologists, know and appreciate the value of the natural world.  It is where our hula and our life comes from.  This is not about being anti-science.  It is about respect for indigenous knowledge about the mountain which is different than western knowledge and just as valid.

Poliahu, is the deity of the mountain.  She is the goddess of the snow and also a deity of compassion.  Kapu Aloha, deep compassionate love, is being practiced on the mountain by everyone.  This means bringing your highest self - which I’d call your Christ-consciousness or Buddha Nature - to the mountain.  No matter what happens.

May the protectors’ kapu aloha also inspire us to practice kapu aloha, in our everyday lives, towards ourselves as well as others especially with people who we do not agree with.  Such compassion takes the form of patience, generosity, respect, and loving kindness. Then it can only go well. EO!!!

Malama pono (take good care of body, mind and spirit),

June Kaililani Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sensei

Thank You For Your Unflinching Love and Core Teachings

“To the entire menagerie of animal, fungal and plant beings, both the seen and the unseen, 
thank you for your unflinching love and core teachings.  I am forever your student.”

— Nance Klehm, The Soil Keepers

“I am God’s assassin
And I’m waiting for you
In the dark alley
Of abandoned love
For when you’re brave enough
To run onto my knife.”

— Kabir Turn Me to Gold, Translations by Andrew Harvey

Halau i Ka Pono’s “Hula is Community” Performance at Frank Lloyd Wright’s Unity Temple. Photo by Tom Neiman.

I’ve learned the name of the beautiful tree outside my study.  Itʻs an Elm.  Itʻs tall and has a gorgeous rough trunk that forks. There are different colored mosses growing all over it.  There’s thick dark green moss on the north side, thin yellow green covering most of the tree, and a little brownish orange spot growing higher up.  

Elms are hermaphrodites that have flowers pollinated by the wind.  When I look at the elm deeply, I feel calm.

Linden flowers

I was also excited to learn the name of linden trees.  There are at least six beautiful ones across Lake Street - the street where we live - that are almost at the end of their flowering season. In Romania, linden trees are sacred and symbolize love, fertility, prosperity, peace, justice and altruism. In Greece it is Aphrodite’s tree.  Linden flowers have a delicate fragrance and are used for, among many other things, mild anxiety and insomnia.

Lake Street can be very busy with cars and trucks whizzing by as the day progresses.  These beautiful trees silently bear witness to this with unflinching love.  

Fifth generation horticulturalist Nance Klehm taught me the names of the trees when she took us around our block at our Women’s Retreat last month.  Nance is a person who walks her talk and is our featured person this month. 

We had a beautiful Zen Eye-Opening Ceremony and Celebration this past Saturday.  The ceremony blessed and consecrated our new space as a sanctuary where people can awaken through acts of kindness, generosity, and compassion.

The recent news about the immigrant father and child dying on the banks of the Rio Grande River - near Brownsville, Texas -trying to swim to the U.S. heart-breaking.  The news about 13,000 children living in detention centers and being separated from their parents at the border is horrifying. Closer to home, immigrant communities in Illinois live with the fear of raids and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) ripping families apart.  This must change.

I am the granddaughter of immigrants to Hawaii.  My paternal grandparents came from Kumamoto, Japan to work the sugar plantation on the Hamakua Coast.  My maternal grandfather came from Hiroshima, Japan to build a new life in Hawaii.   I have enjoyed the fruits of their labor and hopefully am also working to leave the earth a better place for the next generation.

Iʻm attending the July 13th Chicago Daley Plaza Rally to End Criminalization, Detention and Deportation of Immigrants.  The Rally is from 11 am to 1 pm.  I hope youʻll join me.

Malama pono (take good care of body, mind and spirit),

June Kaililani Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sensei

Love for Humanity, Love of Nature

“Laka is the mother of the art of Hula. She has qualities of love, kindness, compassion and humbleness of self. Love for humanity, love of Nature - blending of the elements made for peace and harmony in everyday activities of the Hawaiians.”

— Maiki Aiu Lake

Metta or Loving Kindness Practice 

 (repeat as often as needed)

May I be happy.

May I be safe.

May I be healthy.

May I live with ease.

June and Joshin happy in the Zen Life & Meditation Center and Halau i Ka Ponoʻs new home!

June, my favorite month of the year.  It’s the time of year when Chicago weather is very beautiful.  The trees are dressed in their splendor - fresh, lush, green leaves.  Flowers bloom everywhere.  

Itʻs been just two weeks since we moved to our new home. It is a home that so many of you have made possible with your generous contributions, and I am deeply grateful!  Wonderful things will grow here in the fertile soil of aloha.

At our new facility, our Zen community hosted its first two-day silent retreat this past weekend.  Fifteen people completed the retreat.  Their strong silent meditation, mindful work practice - lots of cleaning, weeding and sorting - and gentle rest blessed the space.  

I dreamed about hula on the second night.  I think the dream came because we have an exciting performance to do at another beautiful venue - Frank Lloyd Wright’s newly refurbished Unity Temple on June 8th. Twenty one of my hula students and I have been practicing very hard!

Hula Pele, dances and chants for the Volcano Goddess Pele, are among my favorite.  Pele is the creator of new land.  The fiery magma that comes up through the earth and burns up everything in its path is a great metaphor for life - destruction and creation, redemption and transformation.  

Pele brings the question, “How do we burn up what is no longer useful to us?”   Fear is sometimes useful and sometimes not.  It’s a good emotion to study.  

What do you do when fear arises?  Can you stay with it and bear witness to what is going on in your physical body?  Can you notice the story you are telling yourself, and how it feeds the fear?  Can you return to the feelings in your body - the knots in your stomach, the throbbing headache and just breathe with them.   Can you bring your attention back every time it wanders?  This is a practice of patience that builds courage and slowly opens your closed heart - often closed because of fear of being hurt.  

Itʻs like Hi’iaka, Pele’s baby sister, who says “I will,” when Pele asks, “Who will go to Kauai and fetch my dream lover?”  Everyone knows the way is difficult and fraught with challenges.  All of Pele’s sisters are fearful and say no except for Hi’iaka, the youngest. She says yes and thus begins the mythic journey of growing up.

Opening to the world, to the knot in your stomach, to your heart that is racing, takes courage to pause, breathe and say yes.  These are the very sensations that will help you practice with fear.  Can you be okay with not knowing what will happen and bear witness to your knotted stomach and tender heart?  

Such regular practice of meditation will help you hone your attention and work with your distracted mind with loving kindness.  And if you can do this, you’ll notice a sacred place where love and aloha (compassion, kindness and grace) naturally arise - a place of sanity and basic goodness that has always been there.

Hope to see many of you at our performance - Hula Pele will be there!

Malama pono (take good care of body, mind and spirit),

June Kaililani Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sensei

A Large Rock Standing in the Sea

“‘He puko ʻa ku no ka moana.’
A large rock standing in the sea.
Said of a person who is unchangeable and very determined.”

— Collected, Translated and Annotated  by Mary Kawena Pukui 'Olelo No'eau  #933  Hawaiian Proverbs & Poetical Sayings

Chicago Public Library Budlong Woods Branch Hula Performance

I’m taking a moment to pause to see the rain splashed window next to the dining room table I’ve used as a desk ever since we moved five years ago. We relocated from an 8-bedroom Victorian home on 163 N Humphrey to a 2-bedroom apartment at 38 Lake Street above our one room Zen Center.  Quite a change!

April showers are continuing into May, and the tree outside that has been my close companion is bursting with new yellow green leaves and tiny white flowers.  Many of its branches are covered with a green forest moss.  

We are preparing to move to our new home at 46 Lake Street.  There’s been lots of activity since we closed escrow on Monday.  The old awning has been taken down letting in more light. Seeing open skies through the front windows lifted my heart.

The wood floors are being re-finished as I write this.  Estimates for a fresh coat of paint inside are now being received.  And many volunteers have signed up to help do whatever is needed - pack, move, clean.   

Four of us did deep cleaning of the kitchen and bathroom the other day. I find it very satisfying to clean.  Cleaning can be a meditation - just cleaning without thoughts except for how to get this spot out or rub away this greasy build up.  This kind of work practice surely blesses the space.

I had a dream about a week ago where I saw a great tidal wave slowly growing in size until it was as big as a huge mountain range.  All I could manage to say was "Oh... my... god...!!!"  My husband and I were behind a huge rock that was high enough to shield us from this monster wave.  I watched with a mixture of fear and deep respect for this big wall of water coming toward us.  I didn’t try to run, I knew the rock would protect us.  It was big, solid and firmly rooted to the land.  

I’ve had dreams about tidal waves in the past.  They always seem to come before a big change or move.  This one was different in that I wasn’t alone.  And indeed I feel supported by so many of you who have contributed in so many different ways to this momentous change.  

I am deeply grateful to my husband, Robert Joshin Althouse for his vision and steadfastness, and to all of you for also being my rock in the midst of great change.  May our collective path be clear and strong: full of love for ourselves and each other.

Malama pono (take good care of body, mind and spirit),

June Kaililani Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sensei

P.S.  May is also Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month.  Join us for three free public performances at Chicago Public Library branches as well as the Oak Park Public Library.  

May I Myself Appear as Drink and Sustenance

“In hula the dancers become one with everything in Nature.”

— Nona Beamer, Na Hula o Hawaii

“In the ages marked by scarcity and want, may I myself appear as drink and sustenance.”

— Shantideva, The Way of the Bodhisattva

Liz and Olivia Allenʻs beautiful AirBnB near the Hay River in Prairie Farm, WI

Two beautiful white trumpeter swans glided over the Hay River as we were packing up to leave Prairie Farm in northwestern Wisconsin.  It was a glorious farewell after a week of being in the quiet of Nature.  

Our first day there, a cute chipmunk came to fiddle with some bits of wood on the porch of our comfortable A-frame AirBNB set in the woods.  I think that was his way of saying hello and Liz, who owns the Airbnb, told us his name was Chuck.  

My husband got good at making a fire in the wood stove that warmed our house as it sat in the last of the winter snow.  We dutifully replenished the wood supply for our house from the wood pile - a little ways away - covered by canvas to keep it dry.  Slipping and sliding on the ice to and from the woodpile was about the only exercise we got.  

I cooked on a cute little stove, and we ate at a small round table that overlooked the river.  There were a couple of geese who swam up and down and docked for many days in the section of the river we could see.  One goose always was on watch while the other fished for meals.

We saw a gorgeous wood duck and a flock of mergansers - hooded and common.  The river flowed gently and sometimes fast as the dam further up north released water.  The ducks and geese looked calm and collected gliding above the water.  I thought of their little feet that must have been paddling away fiercely at the same time.

I think about how much I’m doing while not appearing as calm as those ducks.  In fact this week has been a whirlwind of activity - but I know that if I have any equanimity at all, itʻs because of my regular meditation.  I walk downstairs to sit in the meditation hall with others at our three public opportunities each week day.  Sometimes there are one or two - other times itʻs up to 9 or 10 people who have found meditation important to their well-being.  Iʻm glad they sit with me.

Yesterday I also taught three and a half hours of hula classes after not dancing much for 2 weeks.  Hula looks deceptively simple, and yet it uses all the muscles and joints of your body.  I managed to get through one ancient dance of the drum trilogy - and loved each moment of it - but had to stop at the end because my body had not been conditioned through regular practice.  

Later as I was getting ready for bed, I noticed that my right ankle and knees were aching.  “Is this what old feels like?” I asked myself.  I gently massaged my knees and ankles with healing arnica oil before I went to sleep.  The oil was my tried and true remedy, for there was no pain in the morning.

We as hula practitioners have a unique gift of sharing the poetry of the past and our current lives’ narratives through our dance.  Through hula our hearts open allowing our heartʻs natural qualities of love, kindness, compassion and humility to shine forth.  This is healing for ourselves and others.

Malama pono (take good care of body, mind and heart),

June Kaililani Ryushin Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sensei

Take Wisdom and Make It Deep

“Lawe i ka maʻalea a kuʻonoʻono.
Take wisdom and make it deep.”

— Mary Kawena Pukui, ʻOlelo Noʻeau #1957, Hawaiian Book of Proverbs and Poetical Sayings

“Compassion is the functioning of Wisdom.”

— Bernie Glassman, Infinite Circle

Hula with 3rd Grade Girls Scouts at Lincoln Elementary School in Forest Park - Photo by Nicole Sumida

I gave a dharma talk on Compassion recently at our Sunday Morning Zen program.  What I found interesting in my preparation was that you can’t truly be compassionate to others unless you are also compassionate to yourself.  Which means a willingness to feel your own pain, either physical or emotional, without judgment.  It’s a gentle yet strong ability to bear witness to exactly what’s going on, whether within your body or your environment.

Compassion means to directly feel passion with.  Within this context passion means pain.  Another way to say it is that compassion is the willingness to feel another’s pain as your own.  I think that most of us are pretty terrified of our own pain - whether physical or emotional - and seek to fix, change or distract ourselves from it whenever it arises hoping it will go away.

When was the last time that you willingly felt your own pain?  It’s not easy.   Emotional pain includes fear and anxiety, to name just two. Working with pain is practicing self-compassion by which you are willing to shift your attention to be with what is there - to feel your fear or physical pain consciously and breathe. 

In Zen we say that enlightenment or awakening is to see things as they are.

When we’re angry, fearful or anxious can we just breathe and be with those states. Can we try to let go of our grip on the story thatʻs running through our minds?  Larry Yang teaches that if we donʻt look deeply into these states, we deny the authentic reality arising in the moment. He says, “We must listen to what is underneath it all, to where freedom is calling from, by asking: Can I open to this?  Can I turn toward this?  Or in the inadequate language with which we must communicate, can I love this too?”

I was lying in bed last night and noticed my right hip and lower back area felt tight and a bit sore.  I tried to gently stretch my body to see if that would help, but the ache didn’t go away.

I decided to bring my attention to this area and simply witness it.  I greeted it, and said gently to the area, "Hello pain, I see and feel you."  I focused my attention on the pain.  I didn’t try to fix or change it.  I was simply bearing witness to it.  After a few minutes, I noticed the pain shifting and lessening in intensity.  And then it was gone, and I fell asleep.  

Patience is important when practicing compassion.  Little by little we practice and extend our capacity to open our hearts to suffering.  Zen master Bernie Glassman said, “Wisdom is the very state of what we are and being in that state without separation is nothing but wisdom.  But,” he continues, “awakened beings don’t stop there.  Because they are enlightened they practice compassion, the function of wisdom.”

Be compassionate to yourself and witness your pain.  Be braver and love it.

Malama pono (take good care of body, mind and heart),

June Kaililani Ryushin Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sensei

If my mind is weak, even a minor difficulty is oppressive

“He lani i luna, he honua i lalo.
Heaven above, earth beneath.
Said of a person who is sure of his security.  
The sky above him and the earth beneath his feet are his.”

— Mary Kawena Pukui, ʻOlelo Noʻeau #718 Hawaiian Book of Proverbs and Poetical Sayings

“If my mind is weak, even a minor difficulty is oppressive.”

— Shantideva

June Kaililani Ryushin Tanoue and Henry Edward West

I’m really getting to appreciate my sitting meditation practice.  I’ve just completed a 3-day intensive meditation practice period.  They are an important way that I get my mind in shape much like physical practice is for my body.

Meditation helps me in many ways.  It balances me from being mostly in my brain to equally being in my body. It helps me cultivate my attention by sitting with a focus on my breath.  I notice thoughts arising, let them go and return to my breath. I do this over and over again.  Like hula, it’s a continuous practice for me. 

Our quality of attention is everything.  A focused attention helps me know that my two feet are firmly planted on the honua (earth).  Focus is also very important when dancing hula. Sometimes I forget and get stuck in my head. It’s very evident in hula when that happens.  You’re just off and can’t dance very well.

Another clue that alerts me when I’m stuck is noticing when I’m feeling down on myself - ie I’m not a good writer, not a good communicator, not a good human - the list can be endless. I feel overwhelmed and I’m complaining, blaming and judging others or myself.

Shantideva, the brilliant 8th century Buddhist monk and scholar talks about the destructive habit of despair in the face of hardship. He says, “If there is a solution [to your problem], then what is the point of dejection?  What is the point of dejection if there is no solution?”  The text goes on, “There is nothing desirable in the state of dejection.”  

Zen teacher Norman Fischer comments on Shantideva’s quote saying, "if you respond to difficulties primarily with depression and lamentation, with feelings of dejection or claims of unfair victimization, you will simply be wasting your time and deepening the wound.  For if something can now be done about the problem, get busy, do something constructive.  And if this happens to be an unavoidable situation, one completely beyond your control, there is still no point in wallowing in dejection - find some path of human well-being that you can control and get back into the movement of life.  Overindulgence in the emotions of loss brings about further loss."

Meditation is a body practice that bears witness without judgement to whatʻs going on inside.  It’s a practice of kindness.  When I notice that my body feels tight and my vision narrows thatʻs another clue that I’m stuck.  So, what to do?

It takes a certain amount of courage to sit with uncomfortable feelings in the body.  My usual mode is to distract myself from the anxiety in an effort to end the uneasiness.  But that generally doesn’t end well and I find I only feel worse later.  Meditation is a practice of courage.

During the 3-day practice period, I tried bearing witness to anxiety that I noticed from time to time in my body.  It was quite subtle, but it was there - a tenseness in my throat and tenseness in my shoulders.  I brought my attention to this feeling, gently and just breathed with it.  I didn’t try to fix anything or figure something out.  I just “hung” out with the feeling for maybe a minute or so and noticed that after a little while, it just disappeared.  I was giving myself loving kindness by just being with my feelings and breathing.

Bearing witness is a unique practice of staying, not judging or having to change or fix anything.  It’s staying steady and just breathing with challenging situations.  It’s a practice of opening my heart.  The more I meditate, the easier it gets.

So if you’ve never meditated before and want to do something about an unruly mind, I encourage you to try it, preferably with a good teacher.  While a simple practice, it can be quite hard to do regularly.  And if you know how to practice but have stopped, I hope this letter encourages you to begin again.  Meditation can be a powerful antidote to a weak mind. 

Happy Chinese New Year of the Pig!!!

Malama pono (take good care of body, mind and heart),

June Kaililani Ryushin Tanoue

Kumu Hula and Sensei