Posts by Bob Metz


Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,

And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,

Must ask permission to know it and be known.

–– from “Lost” by David Wagoner

Once many years ago, I was hiking by myself in the White Mountains of northern New Hampshire in the late spring. I was following the Tripyramid Trail to Mount Whiteface, one of the lesser known 4,000 footers. It was a place I had not been before. Somewhat near the top of the mountain but still below tree line, the open path was blocked by several large, fallen trees. I climbed over the many thick, leafed-out limbs and branches and continued on up to rock-faced pinnacle. It was a lovely clear day. I enjoyed the beautiful expansive view, had a snack, and started down. When I got back to the tree-blocked area, I again climbed through the congestion of rubble, but this time it wasn’t so easy to relocate the trail. I tried going back a couple of times, but each time I got even more tangled. As I am writing this now, it seems impossible that I couldn’t find the trail, but I could not. I got confused, lost, and very scared.

I felt panicky, but I was able to regain enough presence of mind to calm down and deal with the precariousness of the situation. It was mid-afternoon. The Tripyramid Trail was not well known. I had seen no one else on it that day, and I had not told anyone at home where I was going that morning. (I have never made that reckless mistake again!) Given that I was on top of a mountain, I decided that the best course of action would be to head downward through the woods without delay. I bushwhacked through the forest for a time and then came to a stream. I followed it. After about two hours of scrambling, the growth around the stream became too thick for me to continue along it. I headed back into the woods while trying to keep a sense of the stream. Miraculously, very soon––after less than twenty steps––the trees opened onto the trail! I had been found. I lay down on that wide, clear path feeling enormous relief, joy, gratitude filling my entire being.

Path is a metaphor that plays an important role in many of the Buddha’s teachings, and just like any other metaphor, it has an open-ended beauty with a vast potential for our minds to explore. It is like a finger pointing at the moon: we want to look at the moon, not the finger. The path metaphor itself actually leads us on a path to understanding path viscerally––in our own lived experience. 

I have, in the past, used the story of my being lost and found on Tripyramid to talk about the tremendous solace of finding the Buddhist path in my life in the midst of the experience of stress and angst. I have at other times used the story to talk of being found by the path. Until now, I have thought that the first part of my downhill journey had not been on the path, but now I think it too was a path, one which contained the gift of the five spiritual faculties. I had some confidence (1) that going downhill would work. I put some effort (2) into that. The heightened awareness that we could call mindfulness (3) accompanied my unmapped walk through the forest. A steadiness of mind––concentration (4)––grew to the point that I could see the trail emerge––wisdom (5) when I arrived on the well-traveled part. 

Isn’t this a story for all of us? The path emerges as we walk it.

Dharma teacher Diego Hartgarten said recently: “This planting of seeds is what we call the path,” and “what we are doing now is the path.” And he said of the path’s direction and intention that it is “conducive to our well-being and to that of the world around us.”

As Buddhists, we have the Eightfold Path, which leads the way out of the suffering, which is constructed and embellished by our tendency to react unwisely to the constantly changing, unpredictable, often unsatisfactory and uncontrollable aspects of our human lives. This important pathway is dependent on and consists of having the appropriate understanding, intentions, effortful actions, and mental training.

The Buddha claims that Satipatthana, his basic teaching on the mindfulness of the Eightfold Path, offers a “direct path”:

“This is the direct path for the purification of beings, for the surmounting of sorrow and lamentation, for the disappearance of dukkha and discontent, for acquiring the true method, for the realization of nirvana, namely, the four satipatthanas.”

The teaching on Dependent Origination is a different path, one that leads to suffering and ignorance again and again. Knowing this path allows us to walk in a different direction. Saddha (confidence in the teaching) can transform even this path into a skillful one, designated as Transcendent Dependent Origination.

Every meditation practice we do is a path with a beginning, middle, and end. Regular practice creates a clear trail in the mind. A group of us at VIMS have been exploring an eight-step practice called The Gradual Entry into Emptiness. It is repetitive and cumulative: each time that we add a step, we repeat all the others. It is as if we are laying down a neurological pathway in the mind and in the heart. Increasingly, we can let go and trust that the path will open to us and guide our way. 

“Stand still. The forest knows where you are. You must let it find you.”  (David Wagoner)

I am told that the Thai Forest monks each have an individual khutti, a meditation hut in which they live and practice. Each hut has a well-worn path in front of it on which they do their meditation. In that tradition, it is said that one can get a sense of the depth of a monk’s practice by looking at the depth of the walking path. Keep calmly noticing the path––externally, internally, and both internally and externally.

The Path will take you
whenever you’re ready––

just as you are

(from The First Free Women: Poems of the Early Buddhist Nuns, translated by Matty Weingast)

A Large, Old Branch Falling Quietly from a Mighty Hardwood Tree

A Gentle Passing

Jane Mitchell Ross (1925-2020) died on April 23, 2020. Jane had been an invaluable part of the early, formative years of Valley Insight Meditation Society. Ready to help, she was an active board member and a wonderfully dependable, all-around support in every step we took towards making the early Buddhist teachings readily available in the Upper Valley and beyond. She was one of the original volunteers in our prison Dharma Practice and Study program. Her own ever-increasing understanding of the teachings and her ongoing, committed meditation practice grew to be steady and deep over the years. They transformed her and sustained her through the death of her grandson Michael and continued to do so as she adjusted into life in assisted living––first locally, near her older son and family, and for the past few years in Maine, near her second son and daughter-in-law. 

Jane’s was a peaceful death. She had not been sick. Her son wrote: 

“I write to deliver sad news –– my mother passed away last Thursday afternoon. She had laid down for a nap after lunch and, within a very short time, was gone. May we all be so lucky. She had turned 95 in February.

Jane had a long and rich life, one that she described as “a good one.”  I know that at the top of her list would be her friendship with people such as yourself and others at Valley Insight ….  Would you mind passing along this news to others in the sangha that she knew?” 

An obituary for Jane appeared in the April 29, 2020 Valley News. VIMS will be sending a note to the family. If you would also like to do so, here are their addresses: 

Mitchell and Cathy Ross, 126, Stoney Brook Road, Lebanon, NH 03766. 

Carr and Eileen Ross, 115 Stagecoach Road, Woolwich, ME 04579.

In the Cunda Sutta SN 47.13, the Buddha speaks to his cousin Ananda’s sadness upon hearing of their colleague Sariputta’s death:  

“It is, Ananda, as though from a mighty hardwood tree a large branch should break off, so has Sariputta now had his final passing away from this great and sound community of practitioners. Indeed, Ananda, of that which is born, come to being, put together, and so is subject to dissolution, how should it be said that it should not depart? This, indeed, is not possible.

“Therefore, Ananda, be ye an island unto yourself, a refuge unto yourself, seeking no external refuge; with the Teaching as your island, the Teaching your refuge, seeking no other refuge.”

… so that you may also become a refuge unto others.

Three Bright Jewels in the Midst of a Pandemic

I take refuge in the Buddha;
I take refuge in the Dharma,
I take refuge in the Sangha.
–– Buddhist Going-for-Refuge Chant

I once heard a scholar of comparative religion say that the above words are the closest thing in Buddhism to a “statement of faith.” So, I have worked to understand them in that way, while at the same time cherishing the Buddha’s advice to the Kalama people to not take his teachings on “blind faith” but to try them out themselves––to see if they work or not.

The word Buddha literally translates as “awake,” one who is awake. I think of taking refuge in the Buddha as trusting my own ability to be awake and clear in the moment and to be kind. Taking refuge in the Dharma means trusting the Buddha’s teachings as a means of nurturing and stabilizing that wakefulness and kindness. Taking refuge in the Sangha means trusting the goodness and kindness of others and having confidence that their wakefulness and kindness support and grow my own and vice versa. I have tried these ideas out, tested them. They work for me. I find this to be exponentially true in our current global crisis brought on by the spread of the Corona Virus.

But what about this being “a statement of faith”? What does this sometimes-problematic word “faith” mean in Buddhism if not faith in an external deity?

Gil Fronsdal has been teaching a series online on the Five Spiritual Faculties over these early weeks of the pandemic. [You can find a direct link to these and other talks on the Valley Insight Website Resource page ] Faith is the first of these Five Faculties. The word in the Pali language is saddha, which is usually translated as faith or confidence. The Burmese teacher U Tejaniya describes saddha as “that in us which wants to practice.” In this way, faith might be understood as an inner rumbling, an urge perhaps. In the Buddhist teachings, such a stirring or possibility is referred to as a faculty, something inherent in all humans. Like language, its potential is in us, but it must be activated and trained or cultivated to come into being. This inner faculty of faith is said to be conditioned––aroused and nourished––by a recognition of dukkha, another Pali word. This one is most often translated as unsatisfactoriness or suffering, but really, dukkha points to the undeniable fragility and vulnerability of our entire existence, as well as that of our loved ones and our entire world. The unreliability of our lives is now undeniable in the face of the un-predictableness of the seemingly sudden and drastic changes occurring all round us––moment by moment. As the pandemic continues to surge, uncertainty has become the norm. There is a very natural anxiety rising. What will happen next? What shall we do? Where can we turn for refuge? It may be that a parallel natural arising and growing of faith is occurring.

“I am so grateful for my practice.”
“I am so grateful for these teachings.”
“I am so grateful for the sangha.”

I have heard these words expressed so often in the last weeks. I have spoken them myself. We all have. The first sentence expresses a confidence in and a recognized reliance on the Buddha, our inherent wakefulness. The second, confidence in the Dharma, is acknowledged for the teachings. The third, of course, is a knowing of our reliance on and trust in one another, in a wakeful, caring community. Before this global crisis, we all had some level of trust in our practice and study and sangha, at least enough of what is called “bright faith” to have been exploring this path together. Now we each seem to be finding solace and refuge as we turn towards it. Our initial draw towards (faith in) the Buddha Dharma as a helpful, beneficial teaching is being tested and verified; and for many of us, it is growing. Our sense of direction is getting clearer. Easy access to the VIMS sitting groups––and to a vast array of study and practice opportunities with senior teachers in the Insight tradition via the internet––is feeding and strengthening our initial inkling that there is a way to proceed, one which can lessen our own discontent, fear, and reactivity, while also easing the stress in the lives of others. This path even opens us to happiness and a greater felt-sense of connection in the midst of the pandemic.

The Five Spiritual Faculties develop naturally into the Five Spiritual Powers as we explore them. Our growing Confidence (1) fuels the emergence of the others––giving rise to a persevering Energy (2), which supports and sustains Mindfulness (3), which builds the stability of mind, which we often refer to as Concentration (4), which allows Wisdom (5) to open into our minds and hearts. Our steadiness on and in the path is gradually becoming unshakeable. Our actions, based on wisdom, are becoming embodied compassion.

In the quiet deepening of our personal practice, we are all increasingly taking refuge in Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. Even as we are “seeing for ourselves,” we are transformed as the pandemic’s surge continues all around us.

“All conditioned things pass away; continue with care.”
–– the Buddha’s last words

Internally, Externally, and Both

As a beautiful flower without fragrance is disappointing,
So are wise words without right action.
–– Dhammapada, “Flowers,” verse 51


An important set of four instructions is given by the Buddha in his basic teaching on Mindfulness, the Satipatthana Sutta. This set is referred to as the Refrain, and it occurs thirteen different times within the discourse. The first of these four instructions is, “We abide contemplating our experiences internally; we abide contemplating our experiences externally; and we abide contemplating our experiences both internally and externally.” There are many ways to interpret this, and, as we do, it is important to keep in mind that that the overall purpose of the Buddhist ethic is the end of suffering and the causes of suffering––internally, externally, and both. The Dharma teachings are about personal and collective transformation. These are inextricably linked. We want to “see clearly” the effects of our behavior––internally, externally, and both––in order to act wisely and compassionately and thereby change ourselves and change the world we share. “Freedom is possible,” states the third Noble Truth. “What we do in this world has an effect in this world” is the basic teaching on Karma.


The fragrance of flowers or sandalwood blows only with the prevailing wind,
But the fragrance of a wise, kind person pervades all directions.  
–– Dhammapada, “Flowers,” verse 54


The Refrain’s instruction supports a scope of practice that encompasses our inner cognitive and emotional lives, as well as our relationships with all others––people, plants, animals, the planet, the culture. It includes our interactive creation of sangha. It also enters into our individual and collective engagement in social, environmental, and political justice concerns. You will encounter this “boundless” range of Dharma practice reflected in the variety of items in this current newsletter––all of which reveal that VIMS is a vibrant, alive Buddhist community steeped in a wholistic view.


The VIMS teachers have been revisiting our community’s roots in the Early Buddhist Insight Tradition in order to deepen and clarify our direction. In so doing, we have, not surprisingly, found a strong emphasis in two areas: 1) personal and emotional healing and transformation; and 2) natural, active involvement in the collective life of our times. Bhikkhu Analayo affirms this when he speaks about coming to maturity as a monk in Sri Lanka, where there was no distinction between “on the cushion and off the cushion.” Our whole life is our practice––internally, externally, and both.


As many garlands can be made from a heap of flowers,
So too, much that is wholesome can be done during human existence.
–– Dhammapada, “Flowers,” verse 53

2020, The Year of Flowers and Bees:

A Buddhist Environmental Ethic for an Ailing Planet

“A noble person walks through the village in the same manner as a bee gathers nectar and
moves on––without harming the flower, its color, or its fragrance.”
Dhammapada verse 49, translated by Mu Soeng

“Noble persons” from the VIMS community gathered on the morning of January 1, 2020 to be empty, calm, and quiet together; to open freshly, respectfully, to a new calendar year––a new decade; to acknowledge our shared commitment to live our private and our relational lives gently and skillfully, without harming ourselves or others; and, moreover, to act intentionally in ways to reduce the harm already being done to so many and to the planet itself.  Setting aside the specific problems of our personal lives, climate change, and the confusing moral deterioration evident in our politics, we sat in a noble silence––one informed by the basic understanding of the Four Noble Truths: knowing that bad things do happen to ourselves and to others––this cannot be avoided; that there is a human tendency to react in ways that make the situation worse; and that there is a way to refrain from doing so. This effort focused us on three things: a clear, honest understanding; behavioral commitments to not engage in worsening situations; and a well-trained mind, for we know that unkind actions have their roots in the distracted mind. Therefore, an ethics of mind is required to alter our behaviors. As a guide to our post-meditation reflections, we used “Flowers,” chapter four (verses 44-59) in the Dhammapada, which offers us the example of a bee gathering nourishment without harming its source, and which begins with a question: 

“Who is it that can truly see, as they are, this earth, this body; who can skillfully navigate this world with its hell realms and heavenly realms? Who can discern the well-taught path of wisdom, in the way a skilled florist can select perfect blooms for a beautiful garland?” (verse 44)

The verses offer us clues as to what qualities are required for us (like the bee) to find a happier, kinder path through our own frailties and our less-than-idyllic, ailing village, called planet earth.

“…how the water beads shine
like tiny moons on the smooth honeysuckle leaf
and the bushy black and yellow bee
nudges its way gently among the flowers”
–– Anne Shivas, “Thought Snippet” 

WISE UNDERSTANDING: What we do in this world has an effect in this world.

I am mostly using three different translations of the Dhammapada in writing this essay: those by Mu Soeng, Gil Fronsdal, and Bhikkhu Munindo. Throughout the chapter, their translations all use the words body, world, village, and samsara interchangeably to speak of the internal and external spaces in which we live and act. Samsara is an important descriptive Buddhist term, about which Thanissaro Bhikkhu says: “It is not a place; it’s a process: the tendency to keep creating worlds and then moving into them. And note that this creating and moving in doesn’t just happen once, at birth. We’re doing it all the time.” Zen scholar Barbara O’Brien says further of samsara: “It might be understood as the state of being bound by greed, hate, and ignorance, or as a veil of illusion that hides true reality.”

Samsara is the perpetually re-created, highly conditioned world of our human (individual and collective) habits, all of which are based on reactivity prompted by our liking, not liking, and “spacing out.” The resulting “village of samsara” that we inhabit, neuroscience tells us, is perpetuated by “the reward-based network” of our predictive brains. 

Dr. Judson Brewer, who is an expert in this field as well as a long-time Buddhist practitioner, will be talking about this subject at a VIMS gathering later this month.  (Event InformationSeeing, understanding, and deconstructing these habit-patterns in ourselves and others will help prepare us for our skillful journey into the flowers and afford us the freedom to adjust our behaviors accordingly, based on their effects.

WISE ACTION: We act in this world in three ways: through speech, action, and how we spend our time

The Dhammapada passage reminds us that a bee interacts with the outer world carefully––without harming its food sources––and, in so doing, gains nourishment for itself and for others.  Bees are generous. They are part of a larger working community––a hive, a sangha. They are not just feeding themselves with what they gain from the flowers. Bees are wonderful, interesting, and important figures in our world. They instinctively know themselves as part of an even larger community than their individual hive home. They give the planet as much, if not more than, they take. Plants need them to propagate and thrive. So do we. Without them, we would lose all our food sources. Even the animals that some people eat need the bees to be part of the life cycle of the plants they eat. And of course, in turn, the bees need the flowers. Bees have an embodied wisdom. Their behavior is a lived wisdom, one that understands that we are all dependent on one another to survive. If they killed the flowers in interacting with them, they themselves would eventually die. 

I found this bee-wisdom voiced recently in these words from an Australian Aboriginal scholar, Gabrielle Fletcher, Director of Koorie Education at Deakin University, as she explained the felt sense of loss in the wildfire devastation in her direct experience. It has helped me feel the profound dependence inherent in our relationship with the planet.

“Please know that Country moves beyond landscape, allotment, vista or wildlife as discrete components. It is also place, Ancestors, shadows, mist, warble, maps, vapour. It is Knowledge, Ways, Forms, Spirit, Healing––a fluid fixity that is a web of inter-connection that assembles, then re-assembles. A complex system of systems, where everything has its place to teach, feel, show, speak.

 To lose Country, in this way, is a distinct, messy kind of grief. It is not just a loss of connection to these systems and to place, and so an ever-increasing slippage of understanding of who we are and how we fit. It is not just the loss of sentient, sapient Beings, and the torture of captive incineration when there is nowhere else. It is also a grief of guilt in our irresponsible helplessness––our sense of the abandonment of our cultural obligations to Care for Country. Without Country we are ungrounded and un-belonging. Without Country we are nothing. And without us, Country cannot Be.”

WISE MEDITATION consists of Effort, Mindfulness, and Concentration.

This awareness of dependence on the earth, on the body––brought to life through mindfulness––is a basis for early Buddhist environmental ethics. Our very life depends on the well-being of the planet, along with its flora and fauna. The early agrarian and forest-dwelling followers of the Buddha did not have romantic ideas about the nature of animals or an all-nurturing “mother earth.” They knew first hand of the devastations of floods, earthquakes, droughts, famines, and fires; they knew the cruelty and killing done among animals in their efforts to survive; and they definitely knew––directly, and with humility and respect––how dependent we as humans are on this “planet of samsara.” 

Through their meditation practices, the earliest followers of the Buddha also knew a lot about their own minds’ reactive tendencies, and through the Dharma teachings they learned how they could train their perceptions and settle the reactivity in their hearts. They were encouraged to ease their most harmful habit-patterns, those based on desiring, hating, and ignoring the truth.  They became the “noble persons” who could emulate the harmonious behavior displayed by the bee community. The word used for ethics in the Dharma teachings is sila. Bhikkhu Bodhi writes that the best translation of the word sila is harmony. This year as we interact with our inner and outer worlds, perhaps we can begin to be clearer, more direct, kinder, and proactive in regard to our altruistic intentions in the world. Another way of looking at dependency is as connectedness: “as a bee connects with a flower without harming the flower, its color or its fragrance.”

“There is a kind of connectedness, an intentional connectedness, that comes through our actions. These are karma connections . . . the real basis for a sense of connectedness comes through karma. When you interact with another person [or any aspect of the “village of samsara”], a connection is made. Now, it can be a positive or a negative connection. With generosity you create a positive connection, a helpful connection, a connection where you are glad that the boundary is down, a connection where good things can flow back and forth.”
–– Thanissaro Bhikkhu, MEDITATIONS 1

2019: Fletching the Arrow

Just as a fletcher shapes an arrow, so the wise develop the heart/mind [Citta],

So excitable, uncertain, and difficult to control.

Dhammapada, Chapter 3: verse 33

Ever since 2014, the VIMS sangha has gathered on New Year’s morning to welcome the incoming year. We sit in silence, and afterwards we reflect on a few verses from a chapter of the Dhammapada, which is a collection of short, poetic lines from the Buddhist teachings––many of which can also be found in various other places within the longer, collected discourses. Each year in retrospect, the selected verses seem to have had some strong, almost unconscious influence on the unfolding of the year within our sangha.

For example, on January 1, 2018, we reflected on verses from the chapter titled “Appamada,” a word that is variously translated as “appreciative awareness,” “diligence,” or “caring.”  “Caring,” along with the other related definitions, turned out to be a theme for us all that year––internally and externally. During 2018, we saw our wonderful Sangha Support network grow exponentially in providing care to those in our community in need. Our strengthened connection with the UVIP network brought us even more fully into the world of social justice in general, and into immigrant justice specifically. Ruth King’s June visit and powerful talk, “Mindful of Race,” sparked the creation of two book-study groups, through which we have cultivated a fuller understanding of racism and the role of mindfulness in addressing it. We also saw the arising of racial affinity groups within VIMS. 

After our welcoming sit on January first of the recently deceased 2019, we reflected on chapter three of the Dhammapada with its simple title of “The Heart/Mind” and its message about the importance of wisely and kindly shaping this powerful force. Neuro-biologist Dan Siegel refers to this as “a flow; a processing of energy and information.” There are a number of words in the ancient Buddhist teachings that are translated into English as “mind.” The Pali word used here is citta, which refers to the workings of our mental lives and which includes thoughts, emotions, intentions, perceptions, volitions, etc. The verses encourage us to become familiar with the nature of citta––to understand its role in the creation of our direct experience of our perceived inner and outer worlds––and to use our growing wisdom to steer us skillfully towards less distress and agitation for ourselves and for others. And, indeed, this is what we have been doing all year.

This is what I have been doing all day and why not? 

Doesn’t everything die at last and too soon? Tell me.

What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life

Mary Oliver

We have been fletching the arrow of our heart-minds, just as the verse at the beginning of the Dhammapada’s Chapter 3 (and of this essay advise). Last January, in order to more fully understand what the metaphor that is used might suggest, some of us sought out more information about the nature of the arrow and its refinement. What is meant by fletching? we wondered. We learned quite a bit about archery, and, specifically, we found out that a fletcher’s job is to put the feathers on the shaft of the arrow. It is these feathers that guide the direction of the arrow––straight to the target.

Friends, this is the direct path for the purification of beings, for the surmounting of sorrow and lamentation, for the disappearance of dukkha and discontent, for acquiring the true [straight] method, for the realization of nibbana [nirvana], namely, the four satipatthanas [four fields of awareness in which to apply mindfulness]  

 Buddha, the opening to the Satipatthana Sutta

Together this year, we have been carefully and kindly, wisely and patiently fletching the arrow of our heart-minds. The VIMS sangha has seen the steady continuance and growth of Dharma study in each of our weekly groups, as well as the birth of the wonderful Dhamma Study Group. A new offering, this study group has been working directly with the Satipatthana Sutta quoted above, and has delved deeply into the workings of the heart-mind––deconstructing them in such a way as to allow the application of skillful mindfulness to address the human situation laid out so clearly in the Four Noble Truths teaching. In related, very important, and consistent ways, all of the VIMS study and practice groups as well as our daylong retreat offerings have been refining and sharpening our understanding of citta, and thereby carefully guiding the direction of the heart and mind. Through these same groups, as well as in our friendships and collegial relationships, we have also been supporting one another in the practical applications of the teachings beyond our formal meditation and into our daily lives, thereby clarifying and easing our experiences within the many personal and social worlds we share with all beings. 

More than a thief,

More than an enemy,

A misdirected heart

Brings one to harm.

Neither mother, father,

Nor any member of a family

Can give you the blessings generated

By your own well-directed heart.

Dhammapada Chapter 3: verses 42-43

Although you will be reading this essay in 2020, I must submit it to the newsletter crew before the end of 2019.  In the next issue, I will let you know more about our welcoming reflections for our new decade! I can say now that when the morning of 2020 opens to the light of day, some of the VIMS sangha will be sitting together in silence and then reflecting on the Dhammapada’s advice from Chapter Four, which is titled “Flowers.” The year of the flowers. What will blossom for VIMS in 2020? And in our larger shared world? May it be beautiful: free from hostility and ill-will; and may it be of great benefit to all. Happy New Year!

Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. –– Carl Sagan

Keep calmly knowing change. –– Bhikkhu Analayo