Monday, September 15, we will meet online.
Dear friends,
This week, we will meet Monday evening, September 15th, from 7-8:30PM EDT online; Wednesday morning, September 17th, from 7-8AM EDT in person at our meditation space (3812 Northampton Street NW); and Friday, September 19th, 12-1PM EDT online.
On Monday, Magda will guide us in coming together with gratitude to honor and celebrate the waters of the Earth. Inspired by Thich Nhat Hanh’s Love Letter to the Earth, she will share her Love Letters to the Waters of the Earth, written in appreciation of the many moments she spent in connection with water during her summer journeys. As the season comes to a close, she wishes to offer her deep gratitude for the waters that nourish and sustain all life. Participants are warmly invited to share their own experiences with the Waters of the Earth this summer and to join in drinking tea or any other beverage of your choice. Together, we will also enjoy a guided meditation on water, inspired by Rachel Carson’s ocean trilogy. You are welcome to bring a small sample of water with you—your tea can serve this purpose as well.
LOVE LETTERS TO THE WATERS OF THE EARTH
When the river woke up the next morning, she discovered something new and
wonderful reflected in her water - the blue sky.
“The Story of a River”, Call Me by My True Names
The full moon of the Buddha travels
In the sky of utmost emptiness.
If the rivers of living being are calm,
The refreshing moon will reflect
Beautifully in their water.
“The Story of a River”, Call Me by My True Names
Dear Waters of the World,
When I look deeply into my life, I see how much I owe to you. My meditative disposition, my peaceful propensities, my sense of refuge—all of them were nourished by you. I grew up on an island in the Caribbean Sea, feeling your presence everywhere I went.
As a child, after leaving the ocean of my mother’s womb, my family life was shaped by you. Our outings were almost always near water, spending time at the beaches of Dorado, where royal poincianas bloomed in radiant red. Even now, when I return to Puerto Rico to accompany my elderly mother, I make an effort to bring her there, to remember my father who drove us to the shore on weekends. I remember feeling a deep natural peace when I sat on Dorado’s warm sand. I would sit in lotus position, long before I knew anything about Buddhism, simply contemplating the shells and tiny sea creatures you offered.
As a teenager, when I could visit you on my own, I would slip away in the late afternoons, after long nights of youthful wandering, and find my friends—and sometimes the boy I liked—by your side. What remains most vivid in my memory are the sunsets you framed, striking in their beauty, offering indescribable peace each time. Again, I sat in lotus position, under the shade of sea-grape trees, my mind quiet, my heart still – meditating, though I did not yet know the word.
Years later, during the pandemic, in the wake of Hurricane Maria and the earthquakes that shook the island, I returned to care for my mother. Puerto Rico was suffering deeply, burdened by political upheaval and dysfunction. In those moments, I leaned into my practice, creating an inner island of peace. And when I needed to be restored, I came back to you. Just as you absorb the heat of the day, you absorbed my sorrows. You breathed with me—my breaths, in and out, followed your waves, your tides providing my rhythm. When I once saw an iguana walking beside me on the beach, I felt that my mindfulness, cultivated on the continental United States, had blossomed into Boricua mindfulness, infused with the aroma of steaming hot coffee.
Interbeing – I Am with You
Now that I am more aware of your significance in my life, I feel fresh awe at the thought that I am about seventy percent water. As you flow through rivers, I too carry rivers in my veins and capillaries. The water within me is a vast source of energy, of life itself, just as your rivers join and renew the seas. You are the womb of life, and I too am a womb of life, capable of nurturing and creation. Through you, I see the truth of interbeing—the unity of all waters, all oceans, moving as one body.
Impermanence and Continuation
You exemplify impermanence, yet you are eternal. You rise as mist, gather as clouds, fall as rain. You flow in tides and rhythms, never ceasing, never dying—only changing form. Your currents weave all seas together, teaching that there is no separation. In my body, you circulate as in the biosphere. You carry not only life but memory, the seeds of personality, and the possibility of peace. When you flow freely, I feel alive. When you stagnate, I suffer. Every river reminds me that movement is purity, that to be alive is to flow. When I continue after this body is gone, I wish to return to you—to flow into the vast sea, to join the eternal current that carries all beings. I wish to become more you: fresh, pure, ever-changing, always healing, always comforting.
Mindfulness – Water as Teacher
My aspiration is to emulate you. Flow like a river—patient and persistent. Be still like a lake—reflecting all things just as they are. You teach me adaptability, freedom, and humility. You are my teacher. You guide me, sustain me, and accompany me like a loyal Friend.
Gratitude and Reverence
I bow deeply before you. Without you, there is no life. Without you, there is no continuation. Our ancestors knew your sacredness. They saw you as bearers of the divine, as mothers, as healing springs. They sang of the Ganges, Sequana of the Seine, Matrona of the Marne, Tamesa of the Thames. Somewhere along the way, we began to forget, treating you as a product, a possession, something to buy and sell. In forgetting, we wounded you—and in wounding you, we wounded ourselves. Dear waters, you have never lost your sacredness. Every time we drink, wash, or listen to the whispering rain, we touch the miracle of life that you are. When I breathe in, I feel your waves rise in me. When I breathe out, I feel your waves return to the great ocean. Your countless droplets together form a great Sangha. We must remember how to bow to you again. We must teach our children to see and revere you as a beloved teacher.
Healing and Resonance
When I contemplate my zodiac sign, Aquarius, I naturally think of you. Through the symbol of water, the Water Bearer pours wisdom, compassion, and healing. Thầy teaches that you are in us and around us, so there is no separation. When I sit beside you, walk with you, or drink you mindfully, my inner rhythms soften, matching your flow. When you are polluted, I too feel polluted. When you are clear, I too feel clarity. Healing is never one-way—when I heal you, you heal me. To resonate with you is to come home, to remember who I truly am—a wave returning to the great ocean.
Source of Life and Commons
As Rachel Carson tells us, you are “the mother of life, the womb from which all life emerged.” Your upwelling lifts nutrients to feed diatoms and plankton, sustaining fish and guiding salmon in their migrations. Your coral reefs, arctic waters, and sargassum forests are nurseries of infinite beginnings. You are not a commodity. As Vandana Shiva would say, you are a commons, a gift, a sacred source of life. Caring for you is Bhakti—a practice of love, service, and reverence. When we protect you, we restore the sacred. Recognizing our own well-being is inseparable from yours.
Energy and Continuation
You carry warmth, tempering heat and cold, guarding life from extremes. You move in waves, tides, and currents, responding to wind and gravity. You shine with light, pulse with electricity, and vibrate with life itself. Caring for you is a prayer, a song, a living meditation. To protect you is to honor life, and to honor ourselves.
Closing Prayer
Let the Earth Holders of the world cultivate reverence, gratitude, and justice for you. Every drop carries life. Every stream sustains the Earth. Every ocean cradles our shared being. May we protect you as you have always protected us—nurturing, sustaining, and connecting all beings. May our actions honor your sacred flow and restore the balance of life. May we live in harmony with your great currents, knowing that in caring for you, we care for ourselves, for each other, and for all that lives.
With gratitude, reverence, and love,
Your child