Thích Nhất Hạnh’s Impact and the Importance of Impermanence
I am experiencing my first deep loss with a public figure. It wasn’t until Thích Nhất Hạnh’s transition that his impact on my life was so clearly revealed. I’ve never felt this gravity of loss with any other public figure because I never felt as connected to their lives as I did with Thích Nhất Hạnh.
Thích Nhất Hạnh embodied a deeper understanding of what it means to be human. His sacrifices to be of service to causes much bigger than all of us revealed a rare way of existing in our modern time. He was an example of how one could live a life with clarity, wisdom, compassion, and peace. What Thích Nhất Hạnh represents to me is everything that I believe we need more of in this world to restore balance and sanity.
The loss I feel is an opportunity to open my heart and reflect even deeper on Thích Nhất Hạnh’s connection to my own lived experience. I was born and raised in the United States to a Laotian immigrant of war who taught me compassion and how to exist in a world counter-culturally to my peers. As my parents both worked full-time factory jobs, that left little time for them to guide me as I tried to understand the reasons for the suffering and violence around me.
My Eastern values often contrasted with my Western environment. My father taught me to let those who are hateful, be, as they too are suffering. By my father merely existing, his response to racism and violence was met with peace and passiveness. This enraged me. I took it upon myself to try to defend and protect my father as I was aware of my own privileges at a young age — especially being able to speak fluent and clear English compared to my father’s heavily accented tongue.
I was taught that I am only hurting myself, as anger met with anger does nothing worthwhile, and it’s not worth sacrificing my peace. Although I knew my father was right in many ways, there were other parts of this dynamic that I knew in my heart were not. I couldn’t fully understand why. Being raised in tiny towns where my family were the only people of Asian descent left me feeling even more disconnected from who I could learn from and what was relatable. Growing up, I often found myself in libraries as it was a place where I felt safe and there were so many different books I could escape into.
When I found a book written by Thích Nhất Hạnh, everything clicked. This was an Asian author writing on topics that didn’t exist in the rural America I grew up in. He wrote in a way that was easy for me to understand. It wasn’t foreign, it wasn’t complicated, it was how my father spoke to me. These simple words hit so deep. Throughout my life, I would listen to Thích Nhất Hạnh in times of upheaval, rage, distress, and uncertainty. His words brought me peace and his voice reminded me of home. Thích Nhất Hạnh filled in the spaces where my father wasn’t able to.
I learned about engaged Buddhism which means, “the capacity to be aware of what is going on, and what is there.” To me, this meant we could apply the teachings of Buddhism without having to bypass ourselves, or ignore the very real harm that we are experiencing, because of the very real identities that we exist in. This was what I realized my father wasn’t able to teach me when I witnessed him in moments bypassing his own experiences as an act of survival and to protect us both. This is something I’ve internalized and done myself. This is also the beauty of awareness. Although it may be painful, once we can see clearly, we can learn how to understand and cultivate a new way.
My father spoke on impermanence throughout my life to ignite inspiration for how I want to live. “Do what makes you happy” was more important than a title. Thích Nhất Hạnh taught me about impermanence in an expansive way and how it can positively impact the world. This may sound like a strange concept, yet it isn’t for many outside of the Western world.
Today, this is what my life work is rooted in: mindfully bringing awareness to our impermanence. I believe one of the most important things we can do while we are alive is to get in touch with our deepest truths before we die. What we tend to discover matters most to us goes beyond the material world, revealing what matters most in our hearts. Death gives you the clearest perspective. My work is centered on impermanence because I believe this is what will help set us free. This is what will help us love ourselves and others. This is what will restore true connection.
This may sound idealistic or inaccessible to some, but that is a lie we tell ourselves. That is the voice of our systems that keep us distracted and disconnected from our own being. Capitalism doesn’t value this work. These voices may even be from the people who raised us or surround us today, who may not know another way. We tend to teach what’s been taught. We can know there is another way. It is available to you in every single breath that you take, in every moment, in each thought and action.
We know violence, we know hate, we know separation. We can know compassion, love, and interconnection — and it starts with ourselves. How do you care for yourself? How do you love yourself? How do you experience your life? Everything you do matters whether you accept it or not. Be it a thought, tone, glance, or what you may decide to do or not. We can have compassion for ourselves for whatever we’ve done or didn’t do.
Thích Nhất Hạnh showed me and many others around the world that there can be another way.
That it is possible to change your life through understanding new ways that may not have been taught to us or demonstrated in our lives or society. To fully honor Thích Nhất Hạnh’s life and his teachings, we can begin anew in this very moment. We can remember that we too will die — so how do we really wish to live? Who do we need to say I love you to? Who do you need to forgive? What do you need to do to embody what the world needs more of?
In honor of Thích Nhất Hạnh, may we all understand the invaluable wisdom of impermanence, may we remember our interconnection, and may we know the power of compassion and peace.
