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Message
from the President
by Tim Kennedy
I'm finding it a struggle to relax into my practice and life.
Stillpoint is moving to another location, we're working to purchase a
property and we just did a great retreat with Reb Anderson.
Then we lost a much loved member of our sangha.
In our practice, we try to take a particular stance regarding circumstances
as they occur. We try to be upright with things as they come along. This
can be a problem.
When I learned that Stephanie had passed away, many things came to mind.
I had just become aware that she was in a very serious stage of her illness.
I made plans to spend time visiting and reading to her as she rallied
back to health. i felt that this was a good response to the situation.
Then I learned that Stephanie died. It was so sudden - I was shocked.
I felt somehow guilty. Then I wished I had known her better. Truth is,
I really hadn't talked much to Stephanie. The things that I remember her
saying were mostly her comments at the precepts group meetings and her
comments at the Shohaku retreat.
But it also reminds me of another response to her-and how I really feel
about Stephanie. I remember her in the silence of the sesshin-sitting;
I remember the quality of her work to prepare a meal that I would share;
I remember her kinhin. I remember these things and am grateful. This helps
me to feel a sense of sangha. I can see how it is that sangha is one of
the three treasures.
We missed Stephanie at the Reb Anderson retreat, It was a wonderful retreat.
So much was said that allowed me to see things that I had never known
about my sangha. In our practice there is so much silence that when people
do open up it can be so appropriate and meaningful, It may sound odd (or
maybe not)-but I am pretty shy in group interaction. I admire how others
can so bravely share and I can see how valuable that is. Fortunately,
I don't think that I missed out on the value of the retreat due to my
scant sharing. In fact, one of the best things that was shared was how
one retreatant said that she "was apologizing for just observing."
I thought, "What a wonderful thing to say-I wish I had said that."
In addition to the sharing and maybe what allowed the sharing to be so
great was how deep the sitting practice was. Toward the end I heard Reb
say "Feel the thing that we have created." I really did feel
a particular quality about the zendo that we had created. Reb suggested
that we not hold onto that quality. He said, "Give it to Brother
Fred and Sister Damien." For me, that is the practice.
Gassho,
Tim Kennedy
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Sangha News
- A New Home -
Stillpoint continues to search for a new home. Sangha member Catherine
Gammon has most generously opened her home as a temporary sangha, but
we will need to relocate by the end of November. Catherine has left the
area to begin her studies and the house has been sold. Several sangha
members are exploring other options, including trying to purchase a property
that would serve as a sitting and retreat space. Your suggestions and
support are important. Anyone with ideas for temporary or permanent space
can contact any board member. Many of you have kindly offered pledges
to help this become a reality. If you have not yet done so, please send
them in so that we can be ready to move forward with this project.
- Special Events
for Friends of Stillpoint -
Please join us on Thursday, October 11, when Stillpoint and Peaceful
Dwelling Place will cohost "An Evening with Beth Goldring,"
featuring a talk on the second of the Four Great Vows: "Delusions
are inexhaustible. I vow to end them." Exploring what it means to
end delusion, Beth will discuss how this vow can help us to find a peaceful
heart in the midst of troubling times and terrible conditions.
This will be the third annual visit and talk by Beth with the Pittsburgh
community. A student of the late Maurine Stuart Roshi, she began her Zen
practice in 1978 and was ordained in 1995. For several years, Beth has
worked with destitute AIDS patients in Cambodia.
The event will be held at the Nuin Center, 5655 Bryant Street, one block
from N. Negley Avenue in Highland Park. The schedule is
6:30 p.m. Zazen, sitting meditation
7:00 pm. Kinhin, walking meditation
7:10 p.m. Zazen
8:00 p.m. Program: "What Does It Mean to End Delusion?"
Those planning to take part in the meditation should arrive by 6:20 and
bring cushions if they have them (a limited number will be on hand).
Orientation for newcomers will start at 5:45 p.m.
Donations will be used to support Beth's work among the poor in Cambodia.
For more information, call Barbara Lebeau at 412-422-3456.
Sensei Janet Jiryu Abels will visit Stillpoint in October. During
the all-day sitting on Oct. 13, she will give one teisho in the afternoon
on the Evening Gatha ("Life and death are of supreme importance...")
Sensei will also be available throughout the day for dokusan (private
meetings with the teacher).
On Oct. 14, following the morning sitting and chanting service, she'll
give a more informal teisho.
Her lineage is the White Plum Sangha of Soto Zen, which was founded by
Maezumi Roshi and carried on by Roshi Bernie Glassman. Her teacher is
Roshi Robert Kennedy, a Jesuit priest and author of books on Christianity
and Zen. She's also the mother of sangha member Carrie Abels.
- Many Thanks to...
CATHERINE GAMMON for opening her home to Stillpoint as a temporary home
while the sangha searches for a new space.
DON and CAROLE ORR for once again hosting a wonderful day in the sun
at the third annual Stillpoint picnic and bocci tournament
ANGUS MACDONALD for putting together the chant books we now use on Sundays,
and for organizing the Hana Matsuri celebration in May
MARK PFAFF for web site redesign and timely updates
CARRIE ABELS for organizing the Sunday discussion series, and Mark Pfaff
for launching a new Sunday evening sitting group
And to NEAL and BEV GRIEBLING, TIM KENNEDY and DON ORR for taking on
the task of organizing our retreats. There have been three successful
and memorable ones so far this year.
- Practice Schedule
-
EVENING SITTINGS
7:00 p.m. Tuesday 6:30 p.m. Wednesday
Upcoming Sesshin Schedule:
Shohaku Okumura - November 8-11, 2001
Sangha-led sesshin are generally held the 2nd and 4th Saturday of the
month. Please contact Don Orr at 412-366-4268 or Jay Hershey at 412-885-6204
for details.
Note: Please arrive at least 10 minutes early as we begin zazen promptly
at the scheduled times. Latecomers are urged to remain in the foyer until
a round of zazen has been completed. Newcomers are asked to schedule an
orientation with a senior member before attending a scheduled sitting.
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Peaceful
Dwelling Place: A Progress Report
By Neal Griebling
A number of people within and outside Stillpoint have inquired about
the ongoing development of Peaceful Dwelling Place. I'd like to take this
opportunity to share the latest news about the project.
Peaceful Dwelling Place is a vision that emerged from a feasibility study
commissioned by Cathy Raphael to explore how a Buddhist approach to death
and dying might be of value to residents of southwestern Pennsylvania.
I was asked to coordinate the study.
The initial focus of the study team was on providing residential hospice
care for those unable to remain in their own homes. As we explored end
of life issues more deeply, however, we felt the need to broaden our scope
to include how we might provide individuals with approaches for living
more fully within the reality of our common mortality.
What has emerged is the notion of a community of healing intention that
would focus our attention and our compassion upon ourselves and our relationships
with all sentient beings. The vision asks us to take what we learn on
our meditation cushion and integrate it within the fabric of our daily
lives.
Throughout the body of his teachings, the revered Vietnamese zen master
Thich Nhat Hanh weaves the themes of connection, community and healing.
He wrote that we can only "inter-be" with others, including
our ancestors and future generations, and that the self is made only of
non-self elements. He urged communities of practice to create environments
in which people can succeed in the practice.
We hope Peaceful Dwelling Place will offer a deep sense of spaciousness
and belonging to individuals from all faith traditions and belief systems.
We hope to provide an environment in which people from diverse sectors
of the larger community feel free to pursue their own path, access their
inner wisdom, and draw upon their innate resources to support healing
and transformation within themselves and others.
The basic components of the vision of Peaceful Dwelling Place include:
An ongoing workshop series devoted to providing individuals with healing
approaches to examining their lives, with mercy and awareness, within
the light of suffering, aging and death
o A Living Fully with Illness component that offers individuals with
serious illness opportunities to live purpose-centered lives within
the realistic limits imposed by their illness.
o A Guest House that provides 24-hour compassionate residential care
to terminally ill patients. It is anticipated the Guest House would
broker with other community hospices to provide direct medical services;
it would not provide these services on its own. A key element of this
component is the continuous availability of skilled volunteers who are
trained in deep listening and other aspects of compassionate caregiving.
o A pool of volunteer caregivers available for service outside the Guest
House: in their own homes, area nursing homes, in other hospice programs
It is our human destiny to meet with suffering, sickness, aging and death.
We know Buddha's practice and teaching was a direct response to his encounter
with these "gifts" of reality. His wisdom remains as valid today
as it was in his lifetime. We have drawn deeply from the Buddhist tradition
in crafting our vision.
A contemporary example of engaged compassion can found at the Zen Hospice
Project in San Francisco. My wife and I made a site visit to this remarkable
organization in May of this year. We met with Frank Ostaseski, ZHPís
Founding Director, and Brad Byrum, the organization's current Executive
Director. I was also able to meet and talk with residents and staff of
their Guest House. Beverly and I were struck with how deeply spiritual
practice manifested itself as compassionate caregiving within the organization
and in the larger community. Our visit provided further us with inspiration
to move forward with the development of Peaceful Dwelling Place. Staff
members of Zen Hospice Project have offered their ongoing support.
On September 22-23, 2001, Peaceful Dwelling Place sponsored "Being
a Compassionate Companion" at Magee Hospital, with Frank Ostaseski
as teacher and facilitator. The workshop offered a mindful and compassionate
approach to addressing the practical, emotional and spiritual issues that
are inherent in being a companion to the dying. The scheduling of the
workshop coincided with the formal and public launching of Peaceful Dwelling
Place in the larger community.
We are currently planning the development of a four-part workshop, "Exploring
our Humanity," that will be held during the fall of 2001.
"Exploring our Humanity" will be offered to the general public
and will allow individuals to examine four basic questions:
Who am I?
What do I love?
Given the reality of my mortality, how shall I live?
What do I want to leave behind for family, friends, and community after
I leave this life?
The workshop will incorporate meditative and contemplative approaches
to self exploration and discovery within the living tapestry of our relationships
with all sentient beings.
We will also be taking actions to build an infrastructure that will establish
and sustain Peaceful Dwelling Place in future years. During the next 12-18
months, we intend to:
o Incorporate as a nonprofit organization
o Create a community of individuals who seek to express their spiritual
practice through service to others.
o Identify and recruit teachers for lectures, workshops and retreats
Secure facilities for lectures, training and practice.
o Establish a Guest House for residents with a terminal illness.
o Offer comprehensive training for volunteers to serve as compassionate
companions to the dying and their families.
Peaceful Dwelling Place is expressly designed to serve as a resource
to the larger community. We welcome participation from spiritual seekers
from all wisdom traditions, from hospice staff and volunteers within the
area, and from the general public.
For more information on Peaceful Dwelling Place and how you might become
involved, please contact me at:
412-481-0970 or e-mail: kakuju@bellatlantic.net
Blessings.
Neal Griebling
Stephanie
Bodhisattva
by Catherine Gammon
I wanted to write about Stephanie. Every start I made was about Stephanie
dying.
Dying was how I knew her, how we knew her: living in her dying, living
fully in her dying.
In a sense this is no different from any of us: dying, living in our
dying.
This after all is our practice, to meet birth and death, moment by moment,
in the ongoing arising and vanishing of life.
But for those of us who are well, or imagine we are well, this practiced
living with dying does not yet require that we face the extreme physicality
of our body's dying truth: this dying isn't upon us, doesn't move through
our flesh and bones, presenting fatality with every agitation, discomfort
and minor symptom.
Yet it does prepare us for that, and it may have been this preparation,
this plain awareness without flinching, that drew Stephanie to our practice.
In Stephanie's dying there was this teaching: that birth, life, lives
all the way to death. That with the jaundice that yellowed her skin and
the whites of her eyes, Stephanie was present, alive, and expressing her
whole beautiful big self. That with the tumor that fed itself and grew
as her liver, her passion and humor made if not friends, yet intimacy:
she named it after Harriet the Spy, a child's hero, because, she said,
Harriet always enters the room first.
My most present memories of Stephanie are of her last days, when her
body was already transformed and transforming for leaving, when her pain
was visible even when she wouldn't speak it, or couldn't, when her heart-mind
rose to meet the certainty that this dying she had been so consciously
preparing for was now, so almost suddenly, at hand.
What struck me, maybe all of us, was the nearly exponential acceleration
of her body's change in those last days. From Wednesday's drowsy visiting
from the couch in her living room, with peaceful energy for conversation
and reading (still preparing to receive the precepts) and narrating me
through a photo of her husband Garth and his brothers (all strangers to
me then), to Thursday night's long hours in emergency waiting for transfusion,
the change in her circumstances was radical.
I don't know that anyone fully kept pace with the change, other than
Stephanie herself. Holding my rakusu, she went over with Garth and Barbara,
her mother, the disposition of some of her personal belongings; then keeping
pace also with living, she asked for a reading from the precept materials,
the group's next assignment, the opening chapters of John Daido Loori's
Heart of Being.
Friday, transfused and stable, her color better, hooked up to a machine
regulating medication and hydration, she was determined to go home the
next day instead of waiting for Sunday. By then her father, Mike, had
arrived, and she joked with him about work she had ready for him in her
garden. We read more Loori (a little dry that day) and some passages from
Cultivating the Empty Field by the twelfth-century Chinese Zen master
Hongzhi, a reading that touched Mike's experience of nonseparation in
Northwest forests.
Nonseparation.
What could be more separate, more separating, than dying and death? And
yet in Stephanie's dying, nonseparation manifested again and again.
Even the last day, Saturday, when Stephanie gave the appearance of unconsciousness,
everyone continued to speak with her, to address the life in her: not
to keep her, not to hold her back from going, but to go as far with her
as we could, to give her our voices and our hands and our attention along
her way.
This was what she asked of us: to know that she was alive every minute
of her dying, to meet her aliveness.
It was an incredible generosity that allowed this to all of us: Stephanie's
generosity, which asked for it, and her family's generosity, which gave
it.
I said my own goodbye to Stephanie in her hospital room early that evening.
Even then, with knowing she was soon to go home, was going home so she
could die at home as she had wished, her death at home a few hours later
came faster than anticipation could prepare for.
Visitors had been in and out throughout the day. Neal and Bev had come
to say their goodbyes and with their hospice experience helped Garth make
hospice arrangements. Now Garth's brothers were getting the house ready.
Garth was answering cell-phone calls and consulting with nurses and doctors.
Earlier in the day Don and I had read Stephanie the precept ceremony,
her hand loosely circling the small white Buddha Don had brought from
his home altar for her. A little collection of gifts and memorabilia rose
on the bed beside her - photographs, cards, the Buddha, a heart-shaped
stone found on her honeymoon. We heard stories of her marriage to Garth
just two years before, their "wild and succulent" wedding, their
honeymoon in the Andes, with a shaman's healing ceremony unexpectedly
performed.
When I came again in the afternoon, family and friends had been reading
the Loori chapters aloud, the music of Loreena McKennitt playing softly
in the background.
Visitors kept arriving, taking their turns beside Stephanie and with
one another out in the hall. The hours were slowing. Stephanie's breathing
became more audibly labored and her pain more apparent. Nurses came in
to adjust the level of her pain medication. Taking her home waited on
the ambulance. It was time to go.
As others had done, I sat beside her and whispered a while into her ear.
Then I said goodbye to Stephanie's family, Barbara, Mike, Garth, and her
sister, Staci. In so short a time, they had become, for that brief time,
my family too. This feels a little silly or presumptuous to assert, at
best poetic hyperbole. But it is none of that. This intimacy that our
practice allows us, to offer and to receive, was Stephanie's gift to us,
and her family's.
I have heard that when she got settled at home, Stephanie knew where
she was, that she recognized its sounds and smells, that she smiled before
she died.
For all of us of Stillpoint I would like to say, to Garth, to Barbara,
Mike, and Staci, and to Garth's bodhisattva brothers:
We bow in deep gratitude to all of you, for opening your hearts with
us, and to us, and we bow especially to Stephanie, for living with us,
and inviting us in.
May she save all beings.
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