Fearless Mountain Newsletter
Winter 2009 Articles
Awakened Consciousness From the Monastery From Māra’s Desk Being with Elders Kondañña Was My Teacher The Death of J. Calendar View Archive
Kondañña visiting Wat Pah Nanachat near Ubon, Thailand, July 2007
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The following letter was written by Rachel Starbuck, a student of Kondañña’s, and was sent to Dennis Crean. The letter was read out at the memorial service held for Kondanna on December 7.
Dear Dennis,
Kondañña was my teacher. I now live in Taiwan, so I will not be able to join you at the memorial, but I wish I could be there.
I had the good fortune to study shiatsu with Barry at the San Francisco School of Massage. He really did teach bodywork as nothing less than a spiritual practice. He said: The heart of our work is simply to offer our presence. Don't push, just use the weight of your own body; don't diagnose, just be aware; don't try to help, but also don't turn away—just be with the person, that's all you have to do. And Barry really practiced what he preached. You could see it clear as day, watching him work. It was an amazing and beautiful thing.
When I attended my first week-long silent retreat at Spirit Rock, Barry was there too. The retreat wasn't easy for me, and on the last day I felt quite overwhelmed. I couldn't stop the tears streaming down my face even when it was time for lunch. I remember standing in line, holding my plate, weeping and embarrassed to be weeping, thoroughly miserable. I took my food to the farthest corner of the farthest table and sat down, but I was too upset to eat. Then I noticed that someone had come to sit with me. It was Kondañña, Barry. He didn't say anything, he didn't do anything, he didn't even look at me. He did exactly what he always taught us to do—he just sat there, slowly eating his lunch, being with me in my suffering, neither trying to help nor turning away. But it was so profoundly comforting to me, even now tears come just to think of it.
Some years later my sister was birthing her first child at home and I was there to assist her. I had taken a Page 2 of 2
special class on massage for birthing mothers, but once my sister's labor had started she couldn't stand for anyone to get near her, much less touch her. All she did was scream and scream and there was nothing we could do. Then I remembered what Barry had showed me. I sat down next to her on the floor. I didn't say anything, I didn't look at her, I didn't touch her. I just sat there with her while she suffered through her labor pains, neither trying to help nor turning away. I don't know how long we sat together like that. But later, after her son was born, she told me how profoundly comforting it had been for her, how my just sitting there had somehow allowed her to relax and feel less afraid.
Now Kondañña has died. But what he taught is still moving through those of us who learned from him. Now when I see my sister quietly holding her son after a bad dream, neither trying to help nor turning away, and then I see the comfort he feels as his little body starts to settle and relax, then I see Kondañña's work, alive.
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to tell this story. I truly wish I could be at the memorial service to express the deep gratitude I feel for Kondañña's presence in my life.
Respectfully yours,
Rachel Starbuck
