I believe every child here deserves a certificate for having “participated really into the retreat,” learning “things they can learn here but not in school,” like “sitting quietly, experiencing that atmosphere of peace and brotherhood,” playing mindfully and meeting peaceful, kind people.

Thay illustrates the wisdom of non-discrimination with the story of his two hands: though one writes poems and the other holds a nail, neither claims superiority, and both care for each other without anger when one accidentally pounds the other’s finger. Just as left and right hands “live very peacefully together,” if groups like Israelis and Palestinians or Hindus and Muslims see each other “inside of each other,” there will be peace.

There are three doors of liberation:

1. The door of emptiness (Śūnyatā): everything—including a flower or piece of bread—is “made only of non-flower elements” and “empty of a separate self,” so “things are inside of each other, not outside.”
2. The door of signlessness (Vô tướng/Animitta): forms are impermanent manifestations (cloud, rain, fog); clinging to one appearance blinds us to the “continuation” of what we love beyond that sign.
3. The door of aimlessness (Vô tác/Apranihita): “you are already perfect” in the here and now, without running after enlightenment or any future condition—“the perfection of the present moment of life.”

Henry, a mathematics professor, discovered compassion during a Plum Village retreat. After five or six weeks back home, he gave up fishing—no longer wanting to hook fish “playing…like children”—and instead brought mindfulness into his university teaching. Each ten minutes a student would clap to replace the bell of mindfulness, and teacher and students would breathe in, out three times, smile, and deepen concentration. Soon the whole school adopted this practice, improving focus, calmness, and kindness. Henry documented his story in a book available in French, English, and Vietnamese.

Buddhist teaching describes three layers of consciousness:

1. store consciousness – like a basement where we hide what we don’t need
2. mind consciousness – like a living room we want to keep beautiful
3. mind base (manas) – always seeking pleasure but ignoring:
   a) the danger of pleasure seeking
   b) the law of moderation
   c) the goodness of suffering

Five aggregates (skandhas) define our person:
• form
• feelings
• perceptions
• mental formations
• consciousness

When fear, anger, or despair emerge, mindfulness and concentration allow us to recognize and embrace them—“giving your pain…a bath of mindfulness.” Habit energies—patterns that make us react the same way—are met by returning to mindful breathing (“Dear habit energy, I know you… but here is my mindful breathing”). Right Thinking (acceptance, compassion, insight), Right Speech (loving, hopeful communication), and Right Action (protecting and helping) can heal ourselves and the world. Wrong thinking is the root of violence and terrorism; only through deep listening and loving speech can we uproot misunderstanding and restore harmony.

Today the most precious gift we can offer our beloved is our presence—that which is fresh, solid, and loving. By following the in-breath and out-breath or taking a mindful step, we unite body and mind and truly say to the other: “Darling, I am here for you.” This practice, called a mantra, need only be uttered in English (or any language) with full mindfulness and concentration to become a magic formula that brings joy and relief immediately—“quicker than instant coffee or instant noodle.”

Thay introduces three mantras to practice:

1. “Darling, I am here for you.”
2. “Darling, I know you are there, and that makes me very happy.”
3. “Darling, I know you suffer. That is why I am here for you.”

He then explains the island within—a refuge built of mindfulness, concentration, and insight—where we return by breathing or walking mindfully. Our person comprises the five skandhas (aggregates): form, feelings, perceptions, mental formations (51 in total), and consciousness (store consciousness containing wholesome and unwholesome seeds). Through selective watering we nurture good seeds like compassion and forgiveness, refrain from watering seeds like jealousy or anger, and transform suffering (the “mud”) into understanding and compassion (the “lotus”).

Pebble Meditation requires four pebbles and a bell master. Seated in a circle of six, seven, or eight, the bell master invites the bell to sound three times, and participants breathe in and out nine times. Then, each person picks up four pebbles and does the following, placing each pebble on the left before practice and on the right afterward:

1. Flower – Breathing in, I see myself as a flower. Breathing out, I feel fresh.
2. Mountain – Breathing in, I see myself as a mountain. Breathing out, I feel solid.
3. Still water – Breathing in, I see myself as still water. Breathing out, I reflect things as they are.
4. Space – Breathing in, I see myself as space. Breathing out, I feel free.
   Afterwards the bell sounds three more times for nine breaths of peace and joy.

Mindfulness of breathing is the practice of being aware of our in-breath and out-breath without forcing change. In the Sutra on Mindful Breathing, the Buddha proposes sixteen exercises; the first four are:
• Identify in-breath and out-breath (“in, out”).
• Follow the in-breath and out-breath all the way through.
• Become aware of and smile to the whole body.
• Release the tension and pain in the body.

Walking meditation brings us back to the here and the now. With slow walking, one breath is combined with one step—breathing in, you arrive; breathing out, you’re home—and you smile when fully present. Whether alone or with Sangha, each step is an opportunity to live deeply, generate energy of mindfulness, and touch the kingdom of God or Pure Land in the here and now.

When we bring our attention to our in-breath or our step, something happens: the “energy of mindfulness” gently penetrates and transforms the breath or the movement—deeper, slower, more harmonious—without any intention to change it. Mindfulness is like sunshine on vegetation: it will have an effect on every mental formation—negative ones such as anger, fear, worries, jealousy, despair, and positive ones such as compassion, tolerance, loving-kindness, hope, joy. In Thay’s tradition there are fifty-one mental formations, mindfulness and concentration among them, and the basic practice of Buddhist meditation is to cultivate mindfulness, which brings concentration, insight, and compassion, able to liberate us from fear, anger, confusion, and so on.

Mindful breathing, walking, drinking, cooking, driving—any activity—brings us back to the present moment, releasing past regret and future worry. One in-breath or one step can already be liberating, nourishing, and healing; when deeply established in the here and now, we touch “all the wonders of life” and discover “many conditions of happiness” available for our transformation and healing. With mindfulness and concentration we can

1. recognize pain, sorrow, fear, and embrace them tenderly to bring relief,
2. look deeply to discover their roots and gain insight of impermanence and no-self,
3. cultivate understanding and compassion (Buddha nature),
4. enact right thinking, right speech, and right action to heal ourselves and the world.

True love in Buddhism has four elements—loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity—and when our heart is vast, like an immense river, even “hundreds of kilograms of salt” (afflictions) cannot make us suffer.