'Shyonnü Post' - letters of inspiration
Rigpé Shyonnü
As a way of sharing their insights and inspiration with each other and the wider sangha, a few Shyonnüs (Rigpa’s 18-35 year olds) are writing each other letters. These are collected in the ‘Shyönnu Post’.
Dear fellow Shyönnu,
Last summer, we sat in a big circle and each of us wrote a one-line love letter to ourselves. Then, we gathered the pieces, shuffled the deck and randomly redistributed the notes, so that everyone ended up holding a one-line love letter written by another person to themselves.
We read them out one by one to the group. I remember I was listening, nodding, smiling, laughing and tearing up, sometimes all at the same time. We acknowledged the confusion, doubt, struggle and fear in ourselves. In return, we extended our encouragement, acceptance, gentleness and wisdom to each other. Within the space of openness and simplicity, it was easy to be authentic and connect with our fundamental goodness.
The light in me recognises the light in you. The light in you illuminates the aspects of myself that I almost forgot. May our connection remain pure and strong.
Love, on a cloudless sunny day,
A Shyönnu
Dear fellow Shyönnu,
On Saturday evening, I was cycling and thinking about the Shyönnu practice session I was holding the next day. I didn’t prepare it yet and it was supposed to be about radical tenderness, inspired by the book of Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche about tsewa. Quite cool, but not if you have to think about facilitating an investigation of tenderness for people when you do not at all feel connected to a soft spot in yourself. Anyway, I was cycling past a field, the sun was setting. It was all quite beautiful, but I was stuck in my head trying to structure that session. When I looked up I suddenly I saw three small deer’s running in the field next to me. They were so gracious, tenderness suddenly was present all over.
The next day, after the session I got to talk with two Shyönnu friends about how we were doing. I was touched by the way they really listened to me and I felt I could really express myself without having to hold back or fit in. Hearing stories about how people follow their own process inspires me to find my own way in relating to the dharma, my experiences and the world. Having friends like you makes it possible to always have deer’s around me. I realized.
Maybe all experiences can teach you something, as long as you are able to open yourself for them. But opening up to experiences rising in relation to Rigpé Shyönnu makes it easier for me to do that, because I trust you as being something that can teach me.
I can write a lot more about that, but this letter shouldn’t be too long. I wonder what your experience is with trusting experiences as teachings and how holding an event can actually teach or show you something?
Lots of Love from the bank of a canal in the evening sun,
A Shyönnu
Dear fellow Shyönnu,
It’s funny, I have been reflecting about a related topic the last few of days (although they’re all related in some way, aren’t they? ah well).
On Sunday during the Wisdom Working for the Earth day Rigpé Shyönnu organised, another Shyönnu expressed the love she had for the beauty of nature, and the frustration she experienced of not owning that beauty. I could see clearly that I had experienced that same frustration but hadn’t been able to identify or understand what it was – it was just this slight nag when in awe of a gorgeous cloud or vast valley. It is such a precious gift to have you all in my life, you kind, caring, giggly mirrors which allow me to better understand my own experience.
During this event, I realised I hadn’t allowed myself to fully feel the love I experience for nature and I hadn’t acknowledged the grief and sadness that I feel around the critical state of our environment.
This specific example is representative of a tendency I’ve been noticing more and more. I don’t truly allow myself to fully feel things, whether positive or negative experiences because part of me is afraid of their power if they are fully felt.
I am not completely open, neither to the love nor the grief. So, both sort of stay stuck. There is a false sense of safety in being closed. I can tell myself I am holding the experience, the emotion, when in fact I am just holding the watered-down version of it, the disempowered shadow of it, and supressing or staying closed to the actual thing.
Actually, this reminds me of a conversation we had as part of one of our Shyönnu practice sessions. Someone shared that they were investigating why they get distracted. And this answer sprung to my mind: I get distracted because I don’t want to simply fully feel whatever is there, so I get carried away in unimportant stories and comments.
It also reminds me of Jetsün Khandro Rinpoche’s recent explanation of renunciation. In my understanding of what she taught renunciation is the strong aspiration to go beyond ignorance – to free self and others from suffering and its causes – which arises when we see clearly how things are, when we see the loop of ignorance and pain. I cannot truly follow this path if I can’t open myself up completely to clearly see my own pain and that of others.
It’s so cool to see that the various events and sessions – that I have the good fortune to engage in – can build on each other. That they can lead to a heart insight, the kind of thing I know will stay in my mind until I have integrated it into how I am. Into who I am.
All my love,
Another Shyönnu
