Dharma Library

Hebe Welbourne, who died a few months ago at the age of 100, was one of the first people to attend John Crook’s retreats at the Maenllwyd and continued to sit with the Bristol Chan group until just before the Covid lockdown. Even then she went on meditating alone with the group in her room every Thursday evening until her death, and we always lit an extra candle to symbolise her ‘presence’ with…

This dialogue is reprinted with permission from the Institute of Chung Hua Buddhist Culture in New York. It was first published in Chan Magazine Volume 12, Number 4, Fall 1992.

Question: How is Chan similar or different from psychotherapy? Is the relationship between student and Master similar to that of patient and therapist?

Shifu: There are similarities and differences. The goals of Chan are…

It's a dark night
The trees stretch their limbs in the breeze.
The air is cool and the nostrils flare.
Suddenly, the clouds part
And there stands the moon, bright and serene.

A poem in old Welsh style

I am chief doctor unto six thousand,
My country of origin was the Land of Angles.
Ruth and Hilda called me Roger.
I was the question set Sir Gwain;
I am the father of three doctors;
I am the husband of their mother;
I am the voter much misled;
I am a debtor, yet a householder;
I am little Gwion's hurt child;
I am a sleeket cowering timorous beasty;
I am a dense thicket of thorne;
I…

A Western Zen Retreat Poem

The Universe is as the Boundless Sky,
I should have had another piece of bread and jam
As lotus blossom above
I wonder if we'll have tea after this meal
unclean water,
Pure and beyond the World is the mind
Bloody Buddhist Ceremonials
of the trainee,
O Silence of Nature
Don't like him
We take refuge in Thee
Here we go again.

Calm and Clear

Cars converge on Swindon station,
Strained commuters clamber on,
Briefcase, mala, travel passes,
"Sorry, power unit problems."
I take refuge in the jewels,
Generating Boddicitta,
Through the virtues I, by giving,
"Train departing, Platform one."

Free from hatred and attachment,
"Passengers who've just got on,
Please, your tickets for inspection."
Offer objects of attachment,
Visualise, arrayed before me
All…

A haiku diary of a tour through Uttar Pradesh by bus, boat, plane and rickshaw in the winter of 1992.

The plane stops at Abu Dhabi.
White faces recede;
The Fast floods in.

Against a high-rise backdrop,
Two vultures on a pig's back.
Third World.

The fawning rickshaw wallah's
Smile
Frames my guilt.

A black bull
With a white egret on his back;
Time out of mind.

Muzzafarnagar -
Dust and Chaos
No, not chaos.
Everybo…

I have just returned home, and it seems sensible to write the report before the memories of the retreat begin to slip away. Yet even by writing about it, the events seem so strange and wonderful that words alone cannot express the sheer depth and vast space that has at times punctuated the practise; the clarity of perception, the long silences that can only be likened to the desert, not a silence…

It felt such a privilege to be attending the retreat with Shifu. I couldn't make the effort to go to New York, but he had come here! And yet a retreat is just a retreat. Really it was like a solitary retreat, as I just isolated myself from the environment and continued my practice.

I came to the retreat feeling that I wanted to be there, and John wanted me to be there in particular to confirm my…

I was fortunate to be able to collect Shifu, Guo Yen Hse and Paul Kennedy from the airport. We broke our journey to Wales in Bristol in order to see my family for lunch. As we were leaving and my wife was wishing us well for the retreat, Shifu said, in reference to the retreat, "It's a trick!"

"Yes," my wife replied, "But it's a very good one, and a very necessary one," looking pointedly in my…