In September 2023, I had the privilege of visiting Deer Park Monastery, nestled high in the chaparral-covered mountains of Escondido, California. As part of my new role at the Thich Nhat Hanh Center for Mindfulness in Public Health at the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health, I spent two and a half weeks at the monastery to support The Buddha, The Scientist retreat. With a mix of excitement and apprehension, I left my life in Boston, unsure of what to expect—especially when it came to communication. I knew the monastery had at least one laptop, as I had previously joined Zoom calls with my monastic colleagues. Just to be safe, I packed an assortment of phone chargers, backup batteries, and various laptop cables.
As I turned onto the unpaved road leading to the monastery, I began to notice carved, calligraphic signs scattered throughout the grounds. These contemplative messages—“peace in every step,” “just be,” and “enjoy being”—were both camouflaged within the natural landscape and radiant, like quiet beacons of mindfulness. On my first day, while sitting beside a koi pond, I asked Brother Mindfulness, “How can I ‘just be’?” He smiled and replied, “You will know in a few days.” I carried that response with me, turning it over in my mind, even as anxiety crept in: Would I have cell service? Reliable Wi-Fi? How would I log into Monday’s departmental Zoom meeting? I found myself caught between two worlds—the stillness of this serene place and the unrelenting pace of my everyday life.
As the days passed, my apprehension slowly dissolved, like the morning fog lifting from the mountainside. By day seventeen, I reluctantly packed my bags—along with the untouched phone chargers and backup batteries—and prepared to leave for the airport. I felt more relaxed than I had in years, though I knew the familiar pressures of academia and a flooded inbox awaited me. Still, I departed with a sense of grounded mindfulness, carrying with me a newfound understanding of deep stillness—and what it means to truly dwell in that sacred, quiet space.
Unplugging during this time cleared my mind and allowed me to truly "just be." When I returned to the office, I brought back a meaningful gift from Sister Dang Nghiem—an original calligraphic painting bearing the message: “Go Off-Line, Be On Life.” It now hangs in the hallway outside my office, a gentle invitation to mindfulness for the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health community.
With much gratitude to the sisters and brothers of Deer Park Monastery for sharing your sacred space. I can’t wait to visit again!
In harmony with Thay’s practice of writing love letters to cultivate love, peace, and reconciliation with those around him, we asked practitioners to share their stories about what Deer Park means to them.
If you would like to submit your own Love Letter to Deer Park, please email us at loveletters@deerparkmonastery.org. We love receiving your writings, poetry, and photos. Please include your name and Dharma name if you have one.
