Falling Skillfully

Last August, the monastics of Deer Park Monastery
had the good fortune to offer a six-day retreat at
the YMCA of the Rockies. It was a lovely retreat
in a stunning location in the Rocky Mountains,
Colorado, US. We hope conditions will be favorable for us to return in the future.
After a retreat, monastics like to enjoy a handful of lazy days to rest and play. During our lazy
days in the Rockies, we practiced mindful roller
skating. Imagine for a moment twenty monks and
nuns on roller skates. Twenty monks and nuns,
some very skilled and some with no clue what they
are doing, all skating around a little roller rink high
in the Colorado Rockies. Twenty monks and nuns,
some flying forward and backward, some on one
leg, and some never straying far from the safety of
the wall. We laugh, we yell, and we fall. We do a lot
of falling.
Now, I am not a skilled skater. When I put on
roller skates, I do my best to just keep my balance
and breathe. I did watch my more experienced
monastic siblings handling themselves on skates
and tried to imitate them as best as I could. I asked
questions, listened to the answers, and tried my
best to put everything into practice. Bit by bit I improved, but I still fell many times.
Something I have observed: everybody falls
in their own way. One of my brothers falls like a
cartoon character, his legs flying back and forth
looking for traction on his way to the ground. His
arms windmill, he goes, “Oh oh oh!” and then he
collapses straight down. Then, there is a group of
sisters clinging to each other as they tentatively
skate around the rink. When they fall, it’s in one
great big laughing heap that makes everybody
smile. I don’t know what happens to me when I
fall, but I don’t fall like that. I don’t even know how
I fall. One moment I’m moving fine, the next, I hit
the floor with a loud BOOM. I fall in such a way that
everybody looks over and goes, “Whoa, are you
okay?” I get up, bruised but smiling.
One brother is very skilled, very smooth; he
Falling Skillfully
Brother Minh Niệm shares how the Plum Village
monastic community helped him to better care for
his own suffering and that of others.

even falls gracefully. He makes falling an art form.
He goes down slowly, in total control of his body,
rolls in one motion, and straight up again into
skating. He tries all sorts of things without fear,
because he knows how to fall without getting hurt.
He practices the art of falling skillfully. I think we
would all be wise to learn from this.
Recently, I was asked what in my monastic life
nourishes my aspiration to serve. Honestly, I think
I have aspired to do something about suffering in
the world for most of my life. I just haven’t always
known how. Looking back, one thing is clear to
me: my efforts to help others were complicated
by my struggles to take care of my own suffering.
Many times, my intentions were good, but because
I didn’t understand myself and struggled to take
good care of myself, I wasn’t able to really improve
a situation.
Our roller skating reminded me of this.
Sometimes, roller skating with my brothers and
sisters, watching someone struggle or fall, I felt so
much compassion. I know what it is like to fall, beImagine for a moment
twenty monks and nuns
on roller skates.

cause I also fall. When I see someone else fall, I feel
almost as if I fell myself. When someone is afraid of
coming away from the wall, I know that fear very
well, and compassion arises in me right away. I
want to help so much, but I have learned I can’t
help someone roller skate if I don’t know how to
skate myself. Offering a helping hand might result
in two people going down instead of just one. The
same is true in other situations; first, I must learn
to help myself.
The wonderful thing about being a monastic in
the Plum Village tradition is that we do almost everything together. We get to learn from each other
all the time. If we are going to roller skate, we do it
as a group, and there are always other monastics
who can show you a better way. I know I might
fall, but I also know that some brothers and sisters
know how to skate very well and how to fall skillfully. If I pay attention, I can learn from them.
So, what nourishes my aspiration to serve?
Honestly, the answer has a lot to do with learning
how to fall skillfully. I still fall into old habits, I still
fall into suffering. But I am learning how to suffer
less and how to suffer more skillfully. Living in the
Sangha, I get to learn every day how to understand
myself better, take care of myself better, and love
myself better. Learning to better understand and
take care of myself, I also learn how to better understand and help relieve suffering in others. I
understand anger in others because I practice with
anger in myself. I understand craving in others because I practice with craving in myself. I understand
fear in others because I practice with fear in myself.
One brother is very
skilled, very smooth;
he even falls gracefully.
He makes falling
an art form.

Right now, my aspiration is to simply be a
refuge—first, a refuge for myself, because I know
this will strengthen my capacity to be a refuge for
others. When I see how well my brothers and sisters practice, I know I can learn to be as solid as
they are. Every time I fall into an old habit, I know I
can learn something new. When I see others suffer,
lessons from my own struggles show me the way
to help. I want to help others, which means I need
to help myself. Taking good care of myself, I can’t
help but learn to care for and serve others. This
knowledge nourishes my aspiration to serve.
Brother Minh Niệm (Brother Mindfulness) resides in Deer
Park Monastery, where he was ordained in 2020. He
grew up in Southern California and had the good fortune
to start visiting the monastery as a teenager. He enjoys
spending his time baking bread, drinking tea with his
monastic siblings, and walking in mountains.
I know I might fall, but
I also know that some
brothers and sisters know
how to skate very well
and how to fall skillfully.
If I pay attention, I can
learn from them.