The Things You Can See Only When You Slow Down: How to Be Calm and Mindful in a Fast-Paced World

by Haemin Sunim

  Demonstrations of love are small, compared with the great thing that is hidden behind them.*

  Gibran’s tender spirit and his language moved me deeply. Even though I had never fallen in love, his words dug into my heart as if I were experiencing it myself.

  When love beckons to you, follow him,

  Though his ways are hard and steep.

  And when his wings enfold you, yield to him,

  Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.*

  I promised myself that when love found me, I, too, would pour all of myself into it, without calculation or fear, even if deep pain lurked behind it. But, as everyone knows, love does not arrive just because you want it to, or think you are ready for it. In fact, elusiveness seems to be the nature of love: The harder you try to grasp it, the further away it remains.

  A few years later I woke up one morning and realized that my long-awaited love had finally found me. It was like an unexpected guest walking straight into my heart, regardless of my will or readiness. It is embarrassing for a monk to talk about his first love, but she was an American missionary whom I met by chance on the streets of Seoul. I was interested in religion and spirituality, so we had a lot to talk about. She taught English to me and my friends, and we helped her learn Korean. Although she was several years older than I was, we shared several interests beyond religion and languages. We both liked George Winston’s music, Luc Besson’s films, and musicals like Les Misérables. I made her mixtapes, and she baked me cookies and pies. Even though I rarely had a chance to be with her one-on-one, I looked forward to seeing her, even if it was in a class setting. Soon I realized this was not just a youthful crush; it was love.

  But could this love come to fruition? It was fated to be one-sided. In her eyes I was just a high school student. She was due to return to the U.S. after six months, back to her longtime boyfriend. It was clearly not going to work out, but I could not do anything about how I felt. When love finds you, it consumes you; everything else becomes unimportant. My thoughts were circling her all day long, and my heart was wide open and vulnerable. Everything looked more vivid and meaningful. I felt so happy when I thought about her, as if I were flying to the highest peak in the world with her. But as the date for her to return home approached, I also felt unbearable sorrow. I was so very happy, and at the same time in acute pain.

  Two weeks before her departure for the U.S., I felt my selfishness gradually dissipate. Nothing was important other than her. It was like I was disappearing from the world, leaving only her in it—as though everything in the world sprang from her. That was when I finally understood what Gibran meant when he said there was an unknown god between him and Mary. Love seemed so sacred and mysterious, like the work of a god far more powerful and significant than either of us. All of Gibran’s words took on new meaning. The whole world appeared quite different to me.

  Three years after she left Korea, she wrote to me to announce her wedding: She would finally be marrying her boyfriend. At that point I was in college, in California; I wanted to fly to the South to congratulate her. But I had neither the money nor the time. What really stopped me from attending her wedding, though, was the fear that seeing her get married would be too painful. I could only send a letter wishing her the best, along with a small present. Two years later I graduated from college and decided to drive cross-country with a friend. When we passed through her town, I called and asked if she would like to have coffee with me. She was thrilled to see me, and we reminisced about our time together in Korea. Her husband came with her and treated me warmly. He was a kindhearted person, just like her.

  AFTER COLLEGE I lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts, where I was studying for my master’s degree. I frequently visited Boston’s South End, where Gibran’s family lived after emigrating from Lebanon at the end of the nineteenth century—when the South End was one of the largest slums in Boston, populated largely by Syrian and Lebanese immigrants. Today, though, it’s a beautiful neighborhood, with New England red-brick buildings. Gibran grew up there, living with his mother and siblings and learning English at school. He enrolled in art school and blossomed into a talented artist. In 1904 he had his first exhibition, and Mary Haskell, who was ten years older, was taken with his artistry; she became his patron for the rest of his life. Gibran sent her letters filled with insights about love and life, and those letters, having nestled deep in my teenage heart, remain with me even today.

  And when he speaks to you, believe in him,

  Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

  For even as love crowns you, so shall he crucify you.*

  Haskell eventually left Boston and moved to the South. Three years later she wrote to Gibran to inform him that she was to be married—just as my first love announced to me three years after her move to the South. Having this in common with Gibran made me feel closer to him, and his writings felt even more special to me. Today, when I think about my first love, I no longer feel sorrow. At the time, though, my heart ached. Those feelings are long gone, replaced with a deep gratitude. I am so grateful to my first love, to Gibran, and to the universe for introducing me to the wonder of love and devotion and to the feeling of being truly alive, and for giving me the experience of a vanishing ego, a universe of infinite meanings, and a glimpse of God.

  If you look for love, in pursuit of what it can give you,

  it will hide itself.

  If you ask love to arrive because you are now ready,

  it will skip your door.

  Love is like an uninvited guest.

  Love will come when it wants to.

  Love will leave when you ask more of it.

  If you attempt to find a love that meets certain criteria,

  your new love may also make certain demands of you.

  Drop your demands quickly when love knocks on your door.

  Love is warm and freeing.

  It is innocent, like a child

  without a hidden agenda.

  We can determine how close we are to someone by asking,

  “Can I act like a little kid in front of that person?”

  When we love someone, we feel like a little kid in our heart.

  When I began looking for my first teaching job,

  I thought it was similar to going out on a date.

  I might like it, but it might not like me.

  Or it might like me, but I might not like it.

  To cook something delicious,

  you need time for the ingredients to marinate.

  To build a lasting relationship,

  you need time for trust to develop.

  When you are dating, temper your enthusiasm.

  You may ask, “What is wrong with expressing my honest feelings?

  Why can’t I give her a gift and tell her I love her?”

  Your words and gifts will mean more to her when she is ready.

  Love her, not your feelings.

  Love needs to be balanced.

  If you like him more than he likes you,

  give him time and space to catch up.

  It is important to hold back your emotions

  when your feelings are not in balance with his.

  “Haemin Sunim, I found myself getting so upset with him.

  At first I thought it was because I did not like him.

  But then I realized it was because he was not interested in me.”

  Anger for no reason could be the expression of a crush.

  In elementary school

  I met a tall girl who made fun of me.

  Later I learned she was doing it to get my attention.

  That was my first insight into the complexities of human psychology.

  One of the worst feelings is to believe

  that you don’t matter.

  Look around you.


  Have you intentionally or unintentionally

  ignored anyone?

  Only when we are hurt

  do we think of someone

  whom we have hurt

  and feel true remorse.

  The end of a relationship reveals what we are made of.

  Move away, just one step, from your stubbornness and anger.

  That one step is more significant than ten steps when things are fine.

  It will diminish your pain and rescue you from insanity.

  The heart is slower than the mind.

  The mind knows you must part ways, but your heart does not.

  This is because your feelings are settled deeper in your heart.

  When one day, after many days of disappointment,

  your partner deals the final blow,

  the light finally dims in your heart.

  Fallen gingko nuts are like a failed relationship.

  Once so lovely hanging from the tree,

  they emit a stink as they are crushed underfoot.

  Be as gentle in ending a relationship

  as you were in starting it.

  Proof of having really loved:

  You do not speak ill of your ex

  even after your relationship has ended.

  Sometimes, after a relationship is over,

  you catch yourself thinking,

  “I hope she is happy,” without bitterness.

  This is a sign you have moved on.

  Pain caused by one person can be healed by another.

  But before you go out to meet someone new,

  make sure to give yourself time to be whole again.

  Otherwise you may end up using the new person you meet.

  An exceptional relationship is not

  one with a good beginning

  but one with a good ending.

  Relationships often begin accidentally,

  but when it comes to ending them,

  we usually have choices.

  Choose the ending wisely.

  I Love Your Ordinariness

  After my Dharma talk, you approached me shyly, with a warm bottle of soy milk in your hands, and said tenderly, “Sunim, I am sorry I can only afford to offer you this.” After handing me the bottle and a note, you disappeared into the crowd.

  When I read your note, I was deeply touched: “Thank you from the bottom of my heart for listening to me and offering your advice to such an unremarkable, ordinary person like me.”

  With the warmth of the bottle still lingering in my hands, I regretted that I missed the opportunity to speak with you further. Since we may not meet again, I decided to write to you here, hoping this message might somehow reach you.

  I want you to know that I love your ordinariness, because I, too, am ordinary. The truth is, we are all ordinary.

  No matter how famous or beautiful one is, no matter how much money or power one has, no matter how many wonderful accomplishments one has had, we all have our share of setbacks, heartbreak, and loss. We have to face challenges we have no control over. Loneliness and the fear of death will accompany us to our final days. Everyone is on the same treacherous journey of life’s tainted glory.

  So I love you, you who shyly stood before me, murmuring softly that you are ordinary, offering the warm bottle of your heart.

  Without love,

  our lives would pass us by

  in the blink of an eye.

  Love has the power to stop the world for a moment.

  Love makes the world look beautiful.

  When there is love, there is beauty.

  When love is drying up in your life,

  look for the beauty around you.

  That is where love can be found.

  You are beautiful

  not because you are better than others

  but because there is only you who can smile like that.

  May you fall in love with your unique self.

  One summer night, I look up and focus on one star out of many.

  That star also chooses to look at me, out of all the people on earth.

  A meeting between two people is like this, a rare cosmic event.

  It is one in a million, a billion, a trillion.

  Love is

  trusting someone,

  being there for someone,

  being ready to listen with a tender heart

  for no other reason than love.

  At times we are not sure

  whether what we feel is love.

  At that moment, ask yourself this:

  “Am I happy to give more even after having given a lot?”

  If the answer is yes, and there is no regret afterward,

  then that is probably love.

  Love means loving someone the way she is.

  Wanting her to be a certain way is not love but your desire.

  Do not attempt to improve someone in the name of love.

  It is improvement only in your eyes, not in hers.

  If something is meant to blossom into a relationship,

  it usually works out without much difficulty.

  If you are the only one putting in effort, then let him go.

  This may relieve the pressure, and motivate him to make effort.

  If not, then it will open up a new path for you.

  Love comes naturally and effortlessly.

  If you try to love someone, then it is not real until you stop trying.

  A casting director auditions many actors

  but recognizes the right one as soon as he walks in.

  It can be the same with a new house, a diamond ring, a future spouse.

  If you are hesitant, then you might not have found the right one yet.

  Love her

  without “What if,”

  without calculation,

  without second-guessing,

  without comparing her to others.

  Love her with the steadfast conviction of your soul.

  If one of you is unshakable, then the relationship can last.

  Please don’t call it love.

  What you are experiencing is infatuation

  with no commitment or responsibility.

  Infatuation is not love

  because it begins and ends with you.

  It is more about your feelings, and less about the other person.

  When we are in love, we like to do nice things for the one we love.

  But it is equally important to refrain from doing unnecessary things.

  We often overlook that part.

  We like to get involved in other people’s business,

  thinking we are doing so for them.

  We offer unsolicited help and interfere with their lives.

  We take away their power and make them feel incapable.

  This stems from our desire for control and recognition.

  It has little to do with love.

  We should love people like the sun loves the earth.

  The sun loves the earth without choosing to.

  It nourishes trees and flowers, expecting nothing in return.

  It does not withhold its rays but brightens everything with its presence.

  Like Kahlil Gibran said,

  love each other like

  two pillars supporting the same roof.

  While looking out on the horizon together,

  allow space between you and your loved one.

  Without it, you will suffocate and exhaust your love.

  Remember this:

  When you struggle to hold on to her, she leaves.

  When you decide to let her go, she stays.

  We do things for the one we love,

  but sometimes just being
there expresses even deeper love.

  Give the gift of your full presence.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Life

  Do You Know Kung Fu?

  WHEN I WALK around New York City in my gray monastic robes, I often encounter little boys who imitate Bruce Lee upon seeing me. At first I didn’t understand what they were doing, but soon enough I did—they assumed anyone with a shaved head, wearing robes, would know martial arts. I thought this was cute and amusing. A more forward boy even asked me if I knew kung fu like those Chinese monks at Shaolin Temple. The playful side of me wanted to make a few fake kung fu poses, slowly raising my arms and my right leg.

  When adults find out that I am a Buddhist monastic, they ask with curiosity, “What kind of meditation do you practice?” or “How many hours do you sit every morning? Your mind must be very peaceful.” Then they talk about their experiences at a local Zen center or yoga studio, or tell me about a book on mindfulness they have come across. For many adults in the West, it seems that a Buddhist teacher is someone who is serene and collected thanks to daily meditation. Although the assumptions of the child and the adult are different, I find that there is an underlying similarity. Both child and adult are curious about what it is that a monk does. In other words, when it comes to imagining a monk’s identity, people in the West tend to zero in on his behavior.

  When I am in Korea, a different set of questions awaits me. On the subway, for instance, the person sitting next to me might ask, “Where is your home monastery?” or “Which temple do you currently reside in?” For Koreans it appears that the most defining part of a person is where he lives. Even in the U.S., when Koreans first meet, after exchanging names the first question they ask is, “Where in Korea are you from?” It seems that for many Koreans, one’s identity is tied closely to his hometown rather than to what he is doing.