Little Plum – a lullaby in memory of Thich Nhat Hanh
What a blessing to be able to practice with the international Plum Village community these past few days, and witness the ceremony for Thich Nhat Hanh's body via the miracle of livestreaming. What a blessing, too, to see so many of Thay's words shared online, about his own death (or, no-death / no-birth / continuation), about losing his mother (and the dream that showed him he had not truly lost her!), and, of course, the ongoing life of a cloud. He continues to offer us so much.
Right around this time in 2014, when I was a few months pregnant with my daughter and singing my 2-year-old son to sleep nightly, I was listening to a lot of dharma talks by Thich Nhat Hanh, recorded in Plum Village. At bedtime, I often practiced this breathing meditation he taught:
Breathing in, I know I am alive. Breathing out, I smile to the life in me and around me
smiling even more widely to know "the life in me" included a little person.
Driving to work one winter day, I wrote this lullaby. It's inspired by Thay's teachings about watering the good seeds in our loved ones (as we all have all possible seeds inside us).
In 2016, my cousin Brian Lazarus came up with guitar parts. This past October, we made our first recording, in a local canyon with stunning acoustics. (See photo below. Photographer Bryan David Hall happened upon us in the canyon, and moved by the song and the moment, photographed us and our recording crew.)
Brian finished mixing a full version of Little Plum for me a few weeks ago. I had told him in early December that I hoped to share it soon, as an offering, while Thay was still with us. I did not know who would hear it, but that didn't matter. I felt moved to sing back my gratitude and prayer.
I had not yet sent it to Plum Village when Thay passed away a few days ago. Tossing about in my wave of gratitude and grief was the little, glittering reminder: "don't wait." The following morning, I shared the song with loved ones, as I had also long intended to do.
My heart was so filled by their responses. So now I'll share it with you, in memory of Thay, in gratitude to the international Plum Village community, and with love for you and our interbeing.
photo by Bryan David Hall
Little Plum
The fruit of years and years
And be here each moment anew
The sun and the soil, the rain and the leaves
And be here each moment anew
You are you, we are us, I am me