BULLETIN
May 2026
Reclining Buddha at Pidurangala Peak, Sri Lanka
“Rest is not a luxury. It is fuel. It is the source of all things.” —Jeff Foster
Dear Sangha,
I’m exhausted. Spent. Kaput. Dunzo.
Sorry, I don’t mean to complain, but I get the sense I’m not alone in feeling this way, like we’re getting it from all angles at all times these days: a constant bombardment of too much too much. No rest for the weary, I guess.
Or is that what our practice is—a space of rest? Not an escape, exactly, but a kind of refuge. A place to come home to. The relative sanity of Sangha. The welcome truth of Dharma. The reassuring peace and comfort of the Buddha that resides in us all. And zazen, that good old gate of ease and joy, and the way that through it, we can rest for a while in the sweet darkness of the moment—the great underbelly of life, Tao, shadowed and refreshing and cool.
Sometimes when I sit at home, I let out a hefty sigh when I first settle in—much the way one might upon stretching out on a couch after a long day—a sound of deep satisfaction and relaxation. Or maybe it’s like opening the door to home after a long trip overseas. You drop your bags to the floor, release the weight of them from your shoulders. Your family is there to greet you, the dogs—familiar and full of love. This is where you belong. You can let it all go. You can be yourself. You can rest your weary bones, your tired, knotted up mind.
We’re so lucky to have this in our lives: this Zendo, this practice, each other. So many people out there don’t have anything like this, nowhere they can really turn, not in the same kind of way. (When “Work for Dharma Day” happens this month on May 11, honor this truth however you’re able.)
And like I said, this is not escape. “Real life” isn’t going anywhere, after all—and neither are all your worries. But it’s OK to set all that aside for a moment—indeed, if you are to fully engage with this life of yours, it’s essential. Rest, after all, is what allows us, finally, to awaken.
With love and peace,
Taylor Plimpton
Editor
MAY CALENDAR
Friday, May 1: Village Zendo Dharma Salon,
in-person and online, 6:30 pm
Sunday, May 3: Online: Practice and Inquiry with Joshin Roshi, 9:30 am
In-person: Body, Breath & Mind, Intro to Zen, 9:30 am
Thursday, May 7: Zazen with Dharma Talk by Kim
Sunday, May 10: Zazen with Dharma Talk by Jiryu
Monday, May 11: Work for Dharma Day
Thursday, May 14: Zazen with Dharma Talk by Rakushin
Newcomers Meeting, 6:40 pm
Saturday, May 16: Zazenkai with Dharma Talk by Mukei
Sunday, May 17: Zazen with Dharma Talk by Seiryu
Path Class, 2 pm
Thursday, May 21: Zazen and Dharma Talk by Fugan Sensei
Sunday, May 24: Zazen and Dharma Talk by Joren
Monday, May 25: Online and In-Person Zendo Closed
Thursday, May 28: Fusatsu with Precepts Talk by Bokushu Sensei
Sunday, May 31: Zazen with Dharma Talk by Shinryu Sensei
Gate of Sweet Nectar, 9:30 am
Village Zendo 40th Anniversary Party!
ONGOING GROUPS
The Bolivian Sitting Group meets online Saturdays: 8 am
Bolivia Zoom Meeting ID: 297 525 8394; Password: 1234
The People of Color Sitting Group meets online Saturdays: 10:30 am
How to Meditate meets Monday evenings online: 6:30 pm
Sorting Out Your Stuff meets online Tuesdays: 10 am
Liturgy Training: In-Person
1st and 3rd Wednesdays of each month: 6 pm
Grace and Grit meets online, first Thursday of each month: 3 pm
Friday, May 1, 6:30 – 8 pm, In-Person and Online
Please join us on May 1 for the Village Zendo’s first Dharma Salon of 2026.
Dharma Salon offers an occasion for Zendo sangha members and friends to share art, film, music and other creative expressions and explore their connections to the dharma.
Each salon will feature a presentation and a conversation about the influence of our practice on the material, followed by a gathering with light snacks and beverages.
Our first Dharma Salon will feature a private screening of Lay Lefty Down, a new short film by Sensei Traven Fusho Rice, with a conversation between Fusho and filmmaker Jean Yugetsu Carlomusto.
Lay Lefty Down (15:00) is a dark comedy that will resonate with anyone who has gone through breast cancer treatment or has had someone close to them go through it. The film was funded by over 300 passionate supporters who continue to follow its progress. It’s a big-hearted conversation starter that offers a safe way for people to share their own experiences, and to feel less alone while going through the trials and tribulations of diagnosis and treatment.
Suggested Donation $15.
You are encouraged to bring guests.
If attending in person, please RSVP below:
Monday, May 11, Work for Dharma Day
This Spring, as in years past, we will have the opportunity to join together as a community to support our community. Monday, May 11, is Work for Dharma Day, the Village Zendo’s annual Spring fundraiser. On Work for Dharma Day, we are asked to donate all or a portion of what we earn for the day to the Village Zendo as a way of expressing our appreciation for its nearly 40 years of teaching, practice, and lively expression of the Dharma. The formal letter from the VZ Board of Directors follows:
Dear Friends and Sangha Members,
This year the Village Zendo celebrates its 40th year as a Zen community. It has grown from a small group sitting in the apartment of our founders’, Enkyo and Joshin Roshi, to an organization that is thriving under new leadership with hundreds of practitioners, studying the Dharma both in person and online.
Like any community, we have our traditions. For more than 20 years, the Village Zendo sangha has come together to support VZ on Work for Dharma Day, the Zendo’s annual spring fundraiser. On Work for Dharma Day, we donate all or a portion of what we earn on that day to the Village Zendo. Whether the amount we are able to contribute is large or small, each of us can work for the Dharma and join equally with our fellow sangha members to support an institution that is so meaningful in our lives.
This year Work for Dharma Day will be held on Monday, May 11. Won’t you take a moment to reflect on how important it is to have a place of refuge in these difficult and unsettled times? Do you enjoy the beauty and peace of our Zendo in lower Manhattan? Or perhaps, if you live further away, you appreciate the opportunity to sit online with a welcoming community wherever you happen to be.
If the Village Zendo has had a positive impact on your life, please join with fellow sangha members and work for the Dharma on May 11. You can make your contribution by going to villagezendo.org/support-us/ or, if you prefer, you can use the donation envelope enclosed in the mailed letter for your convenience.
We thank you warmly in advance for working for the Dharma and sustaining our community now and in the years to come.
Yours in the Dharma,
The Village Zendo Board of Directors
TEACHINGS
Bearing Witness to Trauma
The following is an edited version of a Dharma Talk given by Tokuyu Sensei on March 5, 2026. To listen to the original on YouTube, go here.
I wanted to start this evening by asking a question: What's going on?
I wanted to start my talk off with that—I was just like, what's going on? And then that brought me back to thinking about the Marvin Gaye song, which was a protest song written in 1971 for the Vietnam War. And when I looked at the lyrics, I thought that it was just as appropriate today as it was more than 50 years ago.
Mother, mother, there's too many of you crying. Brother, brother, there's far too many of you dying. Father, Father, we don't need to escalate. War is not the answer, for only love can conquer hate. You know, we've got to find a way to bring some loving here today. Picket lines, picket signs, don't punish me with brutality. Talk to me so you can see what's going on.
And I think the last line was the one that really hit me. Talk to me so you can see what's going on. I feel like that's not happening today at all. So: What is going on? What's going on with you? It's rough out there these days. It's pretty rough. And how are you handling it?
I feel like we are all kind of living through a shared trauma these days, and I think it is affecting everyone differently. I think that even people who are maybe not affected by it directly are still affected by it in some way. I don't know about you, but for me, every day tends to have a roller coaster of emotions, reaching extreme lows and sometimes some highs. Overwhelm. Disbelief. It’s hard to believe what's unfolding before us these days. And I'm not the one that usually gives these kinds of talks. I usually like to talk about music. I'm a musician, so I usually like to talk about ways that lessons in music have kind of intersected the lessons that I've learned through Zen. But as I was preparing this talk, I just felt like there was no way that I could not talk about this. There's just a feeling of rage, of sadness—every day—for the amount of lives being lost and the amount of lies being told.
This past summer, at our retreat up in Litchfield, Connecticut, our abbot Shinryu Roshi gave a very powerful talk where he was recalling the assassination or the murder of this Palestinian peace activist, Awdah Hathaleen. And we had been hearing about what had happened with Awdah throughout the retreat. It was kind of a senseless kind of situation where he was shot in Israel. And what Roshi asked us is if we could simply see all the elements of this story. Could we see Awdah? Could we see Awdah, and could we see the people that were mourning for Awdah’s untimely death. Could we just see them? Just see them. Could we see the person who pulled the trigger? Could we see the involvement that different governments played in this happening? He asked us to look at all sides of the story—in a way, kind of like treating it like a koan. Can we just see it without getting swept away by our own emotional response, while at the same time bearing witness to our emotional response. Our emotional response is a part of it, but just one side, and all of it is woven into this fabric that connects all of us. I've been trying to practice this since the summer, and I've found it extremely hard. I think it's very difficult to do—maybe I experience fleeting moments where I'm able to simply bear witness—but it usually doesn't last that long. There’s usually something that pulls me out, and it's very often anger these days—and it's a healthy anger—but can we simply bear witness?
Can we bear witness? Or can we simply see? Can we see? Maybe that's easier to say. Can we see the Venezuelan fishermen who were blown out of the ocean? Can we see all the people that were killed by ICE? Can we see Renee Good? Can we see Alex Petti? Can we see the people that pulled the triggers? Can we see the 175 people that were killed in a school that was just bombed in Iran? 175 people. And even here in our country, just a few little stories, from what I've heard—can we see the 21-year-old woman who was going with her family to the courthouse for her assigned immigration hearing, only to be swiftly picked up by ICE and a day later she was in a prison in Florida? Went with her family to a meeting that she was planned for, a legal meeting, and was picked up and arrested. Can we see her? Can we see her family? Can we see all the people that are in that prison with her who don't have blankets and are cold? Can we see the 80-year-old man who has been living in the United States since the late 90s, whose case was reopened, and is now being sent back to Serbia, where he hasn't been in more than 30 years?
So the list goes on and on and on, which is why it is so quite overwhelming these days. It's just kind of have to put the newspaper down, have to turn the TV off, because we get swept away. I get swept away. I get swept away into my anger and sadness.
So this is one thing that we can do to practice just being in the world today—not to leave yourself out of it, because what's happening internally is also extremely important—but to see it, to see that. Can you see that, as well as everything that's going on around us? Can we see it all? And just bear witness—that’s the first thing that needs to happen, because if we can't see anything clearly, then how can we act appropriately?
You know, I teach at a college, and it's a music school and I'm getting this sense from some conversations I have with students, but also from what I see in their compositions: There's a real fear. And I think the real angst comes from forgetting who you are. And I get this from the compositions I see coming from my students, that there's something very painful about forgetting who you are, and if we're able to just really bear witness and see what is happening around us and within us, seeing that we are a part of it all, we're not separate from it all, and just see, and just kind of allow ourselves to just kind of be there. I think we all know how much zazen can help in these times and in situations like this. I can't tell you how many times in my life I'd been in a place that felt almost unbearable, and when I brought it to the cushion, there's something in the slowing down, in the not turning away from what's inside that always made things okay. In that moment, things can be okay.
And I think a big part of that comes from leaving our minds and kind of going into our bodies. And I wanted to talk a little bit about a couple movies, because I feel like art is always a reflection of what's happening in the time that it's made.
And there were three movies this past year that hit home for me, and I just wanted to kind of like look at them a little bit and see how maybe art has a way of inviting us to leave our minds and to enter our body and to enter the experience, instead of trying to understand the experience, especially when things are so hard to understand, like they are these days. In a way, Art offers us the question for us to answer: What's going on?
I think all these movies deal with tragedy and trauma in different ways, and the first one is the movie One Battle After Another, which many of you may have seen. It’s basically a movie about the fight against oppression and how the fight against oppression never ends, which is illustrated by these rolling hills at the end of the movie, where there’s this kind of a slow car chase where they're driving through these hills, and the hills, in a sense, illustrate how you get on the top of one hill, you get over that hill, and then there's always another hill waiting. There's always another battle waiting. It's a never-ending thing. It's a part of the constant ebb and flow of life. There are victories and there are defeats, but nothing is permanent.
You know, I ended up doing just a tiny little bit of research about this—I think there's a lot more to uncover here—but the idea of protest songs goes all the way back in this country to the time to colonial times. There were songs that were written in response to the Revolutionary War, and then later, there were songs written in response to the Civil War, to slavery. And then also in this last century, the many wars and conflicts of the 20th Century was filled with protest songs as well as “What's going on?” by Marvin Gaye, so One Battle After Another reminds us that time swiftly passes by, and that all things are impermanent, all things.
There was another movie called Train Dreams, which had a particular weight for me. I think this movie is asking us constantly, Do you see? Can you see? Can you see? The movie follows a man in the mid-to-late 1800s who was an orphan. He never knew who his parents were, and he works with lumber. He's a lumberjack, and some particularly tragic things happened to him—this is kind of the sad story of his life. But he's constantly surrounded by the beauty of the Midwest in the mid 1800s, and the film is asking you, Can you see that? Can you see all the trees being cut? Can you see the companies that are profiting from these trees being cut? Can you see all the nameless workers who worked on cutting these trees and also building the railroads. At a certain point, you kind of got the feeling that the story of this man was like a story of countless hundreds and hundreds of people who had come to work in this country. Can we see the Chinese immigrants that came to work on the on the railroad? Can we see the natives who were pushed aside? And can we also see the tragedy and the trauma of this one man? And can we see the beauty? There's one point in the movie when he's sitting with William H Macy, who plays this wonderful character, and William H Macy goes, “It's so beautiful”—out of nowhere. And the main character says, “What is?” And he says, “All of it.” Can we see that?
And the last one I wanted to just touch on was the movie Hamnet, about William Shakespeare and his family. And in this movie, they show how art, specifically, is used to process trauma experienced from a tragedy, and how the process of art is used to see—to see what's going on. And also what I liked about that movie was it showed how art can be a tool—how when art is created from that, it can be a tool that can be used to help others. So we had three different ways of art trying to kind of make sense out of tragedy and trauma, which I think is all around us these days.
So I wanted to bring up a quote of one of my favorite artists, and try to unpack this a little bit in a Zen way, also. One of my favorite composers of all time is the French composer Maurice Ravel, and Ravel in an article that he wrote once said, “Were I in the position to fully explain my music, I should then be inclined to doubt its worth and value.” And just understand that Ravel was a very schooled musician. He's not someone who just kind of played by ear and winged it, and who just wrote what he heard. He studied many composers that came before him. He knew as much as it was possible to know about music, and yet he's saying that if he was in the position to explain his music, he would be inclined to doubt its worth and value.
Why do you think he said that?
You know, in the precepts that we study, there are these three precepts that kind of are an umbrella that go over the whole thing, and the first one of those precepts is not knowing, giving up fixed ideas about myself in the universe. Not knowing. And after we can embody not knowing, then we can truly bear witness. Ravel is saying that he doesn't know why he writes the music that he writes. He doesn't know why he makes the choices that he makes. He's allowing himself to abide in not knowing and to create his expression through that.
That's what I think we have to do now. We have to find a way to create our expression—what is our expression?—and it can't come from a place of knowing. This is kind of illustrated in this famous koan involving Joshu, who was a famous master in China, and his teacher, Nansen. And one day Joshu earnestly asked Nansen, “What is the way?” Nansen answered, “Ordinary mind is the way.” Joshua asked, “Should I direct myself towards it or not?” And Nansen said, “If you seek it, you go against it.” And Joshua asked, “If I do not seek, how can I know that it's the way?” Nansen answered, “The way does not belong to knowing or not knowing. To know is to have a concept. To not know is to be ignorant. If you truly realize the way of no doubt, it's just like the sky—wide open, vast emptiness. How can you say yes or no to it?” And at these words, Joshu was suddenly enlightened.
So the crux, I think, in this koan, is that you can't direct yourself towards it. It seems like a real contradiction. How can I know that it's the way? You can't. But what we can do is we can live our life in this moment and experience it, and experience what is arising in us and around us—and a true expression from who you are can then come from that.
This is why zazen is so important for us. You know, the great illustration of zazen is that of a jar of muddy water. If you're always shaking it and shaking it, you can't see through it. But if you let it sit for a while, then the mud finally comes down, falls to the bottom, and we can see clearly through—and this is what happens when we sit. And I think in times like this that are so confusing and that create so many different internal emotions for us, it's important that we see who we are clearly, because then we can have a response that we feel good about, that feels right to us, and we can make a difference, in whatever way that is.
There are so many of us on the planet. There's so much that we can do, but first we have to just sit through it, go to the cushion, breathe, bear witness.
And then after things settle and things are clear, then you can really ask, What's going on?
FROM THE SANGHA
TANGARYO REPORT
Tangaryo 2026
On Saturday, April, 2026, a robust group of 10 people sat Tangaryo from 7:30 am to 3:30 pm, followed by a ceremonial tea and welcome by Shinryu Roshi on behalf of the Village Zendo teachers. Participants were able to sit online as well as in person.
This practice dates to the earliest days of Zen when those wishing to enter into training would sit for long periods of time in order to demonstrate the sincerity of their aspiration.
Becoming a formal student is not a requirement to study at the Village Zendo, but represents an ongoing commitment to Zen training and entering a formal teacher/student relationship with Shinryu Roshi and the Village Zendo teaching staff.
Here’s the final list by seniority (from longest association with the Village Zendo to the most recent):
Paul Abraham
Chris Brumwell
Bill Dolive
Tom Bean
Mike Gargano
Suman Patnaik
Deborah Sherman
Sarah Nagy
Noelle Wyman
Sam Margevicius
Come celebrate 40 years of sangha with the Village Zendo on May 31!
Since 1986, the Village Zendo has been welcoming folks of all kinds (and all quirks!) to join in supportive practice, accepting community, and the quest to live mindfully together, under the empathetic guidance of Enkyo and Joshin Roshis. To commemorate our 40th year of practicing together, on May 31, we will:
* Sit together in the morning as usual, starting at 9:30 a.m., followed by a Gate of Sweet Nectar service and a dharma talk from abbot Shinryu Roshi.
* Mingle with light refreshments from 1:30-3 p.m. in the small park across from the zendo.
* Gather for food and festivities at 3 p.m. in the zendo. (Please consider sharing your dharma assets by bringing a potluck dish. Email Tokuyu Sensei to coordinate what you'd like to bring: jmanasia@gmail.com.)
We look forward to recognizing this milestone with all of you,
and to another 40 years of sangha together!
REFLECTIONS
May the Fourth
by Taylor Plimpton
May the force be with you
As it is with me
When I raise my hand
And the grocery store doors slide open
As if by magic.
May the red light turn green
Just when you want it to
And the watched pot boil
As soon as you turn, knowingly, away.
It is all a matter of faith, somehow—
Though also, it is not:
The force is with you, always,
Either way.
One should be careful not to overdo it, though.
This is what I tell my son
When I inform him I am a jedi
And he says prove it
And I say no:
The force must not be used
For trivial matters.
But then I remind him
That there are no trivial matters,
Which is a truth I welcome.
After all, I do love the way
When I hold my finger up,
The dog sits.
The way, when I envision these words,
They somehow just appear.
Editor: Taylor Plimpton
Editor Emerita: Nina Shuka Klippel
Design & Production: Howard Thoresen
In these trying times, the Village Zendo still relies on your support.
If you are able, please make a donation.
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