Thích Nhất Hạnh's Vision

Thích Nhất Hạnh’s Vision:
The Village Way as the
Beloved Community of
Engaged Buddhism
Brother Pháp Dung outlines Thầy’s aspiration
and vision for residential spiritual communities
as a service and refuge for society.

Dear Friends on the Path,
Lately, the word village has been occupying
my thoughts, prompted by our dear teacher’s use
of this word in the name Plum Village, our first
practice center in the West that he established.
He used village rather than opting for words like
monastery, temple, or meditation center. Many
well-known Vietnamese monasteries, such as
Thiền Viện Trúc Lâm (Bamboo Forest Meditation
Center) or Chùa Từ Hiếu (Compassionate Filial
Piety Temple), carry these traditional terms in
their names.
By the time I was ordained in Plum Village in
1998, Thầy was already well known in the West,
and Plum Village had become a popular mindfulness practice center, no longer just a gathering
place for Vietnamese refugees. Plum Village was
all that I knew, and I took its name for granted, not
giving it much thought. That was until recently,
when I read a letter titled Non-Action, written
by our teacher in 1973 to Brother Chau Toan,
his younger monastic brother, in which Thầy
reflected on the village cooperatives established
by the Jewish people in Israel in the early twentieth century. This letter was part of a collection of
letters recently compiled and published as In Love
and Trust by Parallax Press.
In this letter, Thầy draws insights from Jewish
cooperative communities (the moshav ovdim and
kibbutz) he learned about in Israel, envisioning
a village model rooted in mindful spiritual living,
mutual support and kinship, and sustainable
ethical livelihood. He also distinguishes his vision
for these new communities from past socialist
cooperatives by emphasizing that they will be
formed through volunteerism and will include a
spiritual component.
I am convinced that when our beloved
teacher Thầy established our community, he
intentionally chose the name Plum Village to
reflect his deep aspiration—carried since the war
in Vietnam—to create a refuge center far more
expansive than a temple or monastery, a progressive model for social development. After the
war and his exile from Vietnam, Thầy established
Plum Village in the West to embody his vision of a

living, dynamic community, where the monastery
is just one essential but integrated element of a
larger societal vision. This vision, which I call the
village way, or làng quê in Vietnamese, aims to
build a community that goes beyond traditional
religious structures, offering a holistic model for
living mindfully and spiritually, close to nature,
with mutual support and collective responsibility.
I believe his vision was to model the traditional
village life in Vietnam, which is evident in his
use of the word hamlet, or xóm in Vietnamese, to
describe the different communities within Plum
Village, such as Xóm Mới (New Hamlet) and Xóm
Thượng (Upper Hamlet). These terms, xóm and
làng, are rooted in Vietnamese village culture,
where they describe the various neighborhoods
that make up an interconnected community. Làng
means village, or thôn in Sino-Vietnamese, as in
Mai Thôn (Plum Village’s formal name), where
mai means plum. Quê means countryside and
connotes a simple rural lifestyle that is deeply
connected to the land, community, and nature.
Làng quê is an endearing term that evokes a life
of simplicity, interconnection, care, and mutual
accountability.
This article seeks to extend Thầy’s message,
reflecting on and exploring this notion of the
village way, làng quê, and offering, in the end, an
invitation to all our sanghas to consider the possibility of forming residential communities as the
next level in realizing our teacher’s vision.
I have always felt empowered and inspired when
hearing Thầy, in many of his talks, describe our
sanghas as communities of resistance. He saw
the sangha as a collective force that resists not
only external negativity and the gloomy narratives
of modern society but also the internal obstacles
that cloud our perception of life’s wonders. Thầy
believed that the world often promotes fear, anger,
separation, and consumerism, which blind us to
the interconnectedness and beauty of existence
and our human species. By cultivating mindfulness, compassion, and collective care, the sangha
resists these forces, creating an environment
where the wonders of life—love, joy, peace—can
be recognized, nurtured, and shared. This resistance is not against people, but against the
harmful mental patterns and societal structures
that perpetuate suffering, disconnection, hate,
and division. He encouraged us to form sanghas and establish practice centers that embody
the very spirit of the village way, which he called
Communities of Mindful Living.
I feel Thầy’s earliest vision for social change
remains as deeply relevant today as it was during
the war. As technology and urbanization accelerate, many of us experience growing loneliness,
isolation, and despair. Modern society often separates us from ourselves, each other, and Mother
Earth, leaving behind a spiritual vacuum, especially in this digital age of gadgets, smartphones,
and social media. The mental health of our families and society is inextricably linked to how we
have organized our cities, neighborhoods, and
communities, as well as to the individualist mindset our culture has long promoted. Neighbors
not knowing each other has become the norm;
“your side of the lawn is your business, not mine”
is a widespread attitude. Meanwhile, the popular
media’s agenda continues to fuel division, suspicion, and hatred. It will truly take a village to resist
this culture of hopelessness and despair.
Thầy foresaw these challenges and offered a
practical, compassionate response rooted in communal living and spiritual practice. As meditation
and mindfulness grew in popularity, Thầy emphasized the essential role of the Sangha, which he
regarded as equally important as the other two
jewels—the Buddha and the Dharma. He continued to lead large retreats, to offer people a direct
experience of this village sense of togetherness,
despite facing disapproval for such large gatherings. Thầy understood the power of the collective
energy for healing and transformation, recognizing the interbeing nature of the individual and the
collective. He consistently invited us to embrace
the noble task of building the beloved community,
a vision shared by Reverend Dr. Martin Luther
King Jr. Thầy proclaimed that the twentieth century’s emphasis on consumerist individualism must
now give way to the twenty-first century’s call for

communities of interbeing—or communities of
mindful resistance—if we are to survive as a species. “Sangha building is the most noble task,” he
often encouraged us.1
Thầy’s dedication to building community
and reviving the Vietnamese village way is not
an abstract ideal or romantic nostalgia—it is a
practical, embodied model for our times, one
that was urgently needed for a country [Vietnam]
suffering from the destruction of war. We can only
imagine that in times of war, there was no room for
ideological dreams—only applicable, real-world
solutions that could bring real hope and purpose
to the Vietnamese people being tormented. The
term làng quê suggests a deep love for the simple
countryside values, the tender togetherness
spirit of the village collective. This revival does
not signal a sentimental return to a pre-modern
agricultural past, but rather offers a clear and
relevant response to today’s most pressing crises:
loneliness, despair, separation, fear, hatred, and
climate anxiety.
The village way blends spiritual practices of
liberation and collective responsibility with active
social engagement and exemplary ethical living.
It is the hidden mycelia network that holds the
spirit of the village community together. This spirit
invites us not only to dream of a better society but
also to build it with our hands and hearts, becoming the change we wish to see in the world—a
healthy, sane, and compassionate society. In
this way, the village or sangha becomes a living
Dharma body—a tangible expression of the path
of awakening, embodying our Buddha nature—
guiding us toward a more mindful, resilient, and
inclusive way of life. As Thầy proposed, the next
Buddha will not be an individual but will be a community living and practicing together in harmony
and awareness.
It is no wonder that Thầy often emphasized
two essential topics during retreats: Sangha
building and The Five Mindfulness Trainings—
community and ethics, or spiritual development
alongside social development. These teachings
are deeply rooted in the Vietnamese tradition,
where the village and temple served as the foundation of social cohesion, collective well-being,
and ethical livelihood and compassionate action
for the benefit of others. Thầy’s renewal of
Buddhism drew from this village soil, returning
to these roots not to preserve them unchanged,
but to reawaken their power in service to the
crises of our times. Buddhism and mindfulness
practice must embrace these two aspects if they
are to avoid appropriating and individualizing this
ancient spiritual tradition.
Thầy first brought this vision for social
development to life in wartime Vietnam through
the School of Youth for Social Service (SYSS),
where he guided thousands of young volunteers
in rebuilding and repairing villages destroyed by
the war, and in establishing new experimental
villages that embodied the integration of spiritual
practice, social transformation, and selfdetermination. Their mission was to help villagers
create a new way of life—fostering resilience,
equity, and sovereignty while addressing poverty,
disease, ignorance, passivity, and disorganization.
These communities explored new approaches in
economics, healthcare, education, and communal
self-governance.2 Each village became a living
expression of the Dharma, integrating Buddhist
ethics into daily life through mindful social
engagement, community care, and sustainable
agriculture. In doing so, they offered a powerful
model of how contemplative practice and social
action could be seamlessly woven together—a
vision of Engaged Buddhism that continues to
inspire and guide us today. These villages were
truly communities of resistance to despair and
hopelessness, so much so that the soldiers felt
threatened and had to destroy them.
Central to Thầy’s vision is the multifold
Sangha—monks, nuns, and laypeople—living in
harmony, practicing together, and supporting
one another in the collective journey of healing
and transformation. While Thầy acknowledged
the value of online sanghas, especially in times
of crisis like the COVID pandemic, he continually
reminded us of the irreplaceable importance of
residential communities. Genuine human connection, collective awakening, and long-term spiritual
nourishment require real presence and shared
space. Virtual communities can inspire and

sustain, but they cannot fully replace the transformative power of embodied communal life. Thầy
established Plum Village in the spirit of this village
way—organizing daily life around mindfulness
practices such as sitting, walking, eating, cooking, and caring for our shared spaces with deep
awareness and contemplation. He restructured
the monastery to function as a true community,
where everyone contributes and serves: cutting
vegetables, cleaning toilets, sweeping meditation
halls, sanitizing dishes, or working in the office—
all are expressions of mindfulness and communal
care. At the heart of true brotherhood, sisterhood,
and siblinghood lies mutual accountability and
our shared interdependence. This is also the
essence of the village way—showing up together
with mindful presence.
At Deer Park Monastery (California, US), we
continue to manifest Thầy’s vision in concrete,
tangible ways, reviving this spirit of the village way
in response to the political, economic, and social
challenges of our time, especially for this nation
[the United States]. One of our most heartfelt
aspirations is to establish a hamlet for lay practitioners at the foot of the monastery, offering an
alternative community model deeply rooted in
Thầy’s teachings. This residential community will
bring together diverse elements identified by our
teacher in his 1973 letter and many articles about
his vision for the SYSS. The lay hamlet will explore
new models in economics, healthcare, education,
organic farming, and communal self-governance
based on the Plum Village tradition. This will be
guided by the monastic community, which will
serve as the spiritual beacon for the hamlet—the
village temple. A lay friend of the monastery, during
a presentation, proposed that this hamlet be
called Simplicity Hamlet, where lay practitioners
and families can come together to live mindfully
and simply, embodying Thầy’s vision of a healthy,
sane, and compassionate society.
At the heart of the new lay hamlet will be the
Happy Farm, where monastics and lay friends will
collaborate to cultivate sustainable agriculture
along with mindfulness practices and community
living. Communal farming and food production
will be an essential bond for all members of the
village. So far, in just a few months, we have tilled
the soil, sowed the first seeds, drilled a well, and
installed solar panels to power a water pump and
a 10,000-gallon storage tank, all with the help of
many local community members. On our first tilling day, over sixty people arrived to joyfully work
the land together. The village life is already a manifested reality, nourishing all who come to serve.
In addition, we have already begun to establish a mindfulness-based primary school in the
Plum Village tradition, which will nurture children
holistically, with compassion and happiness as its
highest goals. This school is a continuation of the
Wake Up Schools movement that seeks to foster
happiness, resilience, peace, and joy in the field
of education in order to support teachers and
students, preparing them to meet the challenges
of our modern global society. Education will not
be limited to the classroom but will flow through
all aspects of daily communal life. As we care
for the future generations, we also aim to create
an elder care center to support and honor the
aging generation of our community, enhancing
the quality of life through compassionate and
life-affirming healthcare. Aging and illness are
inevitable aspects of life. Our aspiration is to bring
mindfulness practice into this area of community
care, improving the quality of life for the elderly
and creating a more sustainable way to serve and
support them. We also envision craft enterprises
and ethical businesses that contribute to the right
livelihood and a self-reliant economy of the entire
community. In addition, Deer Park aspires to
become increasingly self-sufficient, powered by
renewable energy, nourished by our own farming,
and sustained by local water sources. Mindful
stewardship of the Earth and its resources is
woven into the fabric of our daily lives and is
reflected in all the components of our multifold
community—the monastery, the farm, the school,

the elder care center, and the entire village hamlet.
Our vision of sustainability is deeply rooted
in Thầy’s teachings and vision of the village way,
where sustainability is not just about shared
resources but also about how we live as human
beings and treat one another, and how we relate
to Mother Earth. Deer Park aspires to provide a
direct, compassionate response to the crises
of our time—mental imbalance, climate anxiety,
social division, and spiritual disconnection—by
embodying a sustainable way of cooperative living
rooted in mindfulness, interbeing, and community.
Dear Dharma friends in our Plum Village
sanghas, the village way is not just a vision—it
is an invitation that remains profoundly relevant
today, as Thầy once offered in his letters and
articles to fellow social workers at the SYSS and
in the Order of Interbeing. It is a call to walk and
explore a different path together in mindful resistance, building real, thriving communities where
the Dharma, love, simplicity, and interbeing are
woven into daily life and become living models for
social transformation and collective awakening.
Movements rise and fade, retreats are occasional,
and monthly sangha gatherings, while nourishing,
can only go so far. But a true, multifold, embodied
spiritual community offers the steady, long-term
support and continuation that has sustained
the Buddha’s Sangha for more than twenty-five
centuries. This is a call to carry forward Thầy’s
deepest aspiration—born in a time of war and
devastation—to create a beloved village: a refuge
that heals, nourishes, and renews us as Dharma
companions, living in harmony and service to one
another, to all beings, and to Mother Earth. In this
pivotal time of global uncertainty, digital dependency, distress, and division, let us continue—with
each mindful step, each breath, and each act of
care—to manifest this village, this làng quê, for
our teacher, our ancestors, our children, and all
beings.
1 Thích Nhất Hạnh, “True Transmission,” The Mindfulness Bell 81
(2019): 6-15, https://www.parallax.org/mindfulnessbell/article/
true-transmission/.
2 Thích Nhất Hạnh, In Love and Trust: Letters from a Zen Master
(Parallax Press, 2024), 131-143; Thiện Mỹ, Saigon, issues 29-71,
1964-1966. (While still in Vietnam during the war, Thầy was the
editor in chief of this magazine in which he wrote many articles
to help give hope and a direction to the Buddhist youths and
the nation by focusing on building villages and empowering
and organizing the people.)
Retreat at Deer Park Monastery June 2025 photo by Rob Walsh
Expanded article available on mindfulnessbell.org.
Brother Pháp Dung (Dharma Embrace) is a
Vietnamese American monk in the Plum Village
tradition, ordained by Zen Master Thích Nhất Hạnh
in 1998. Before entering monastic life, he graduated
from the University of Southern California’s School of
Architecture and worked as an architect and designer
for four years. He received Lamp Transmission from Thầy
in 2004 and served as abbot of Deer Park Monastery
until 2010. He has been instrumental in designing
meditation programs and retreats for children, teens,
families, and young adults, and in planning the physical
infrastructure, such as Dharma halls and residences,
of Plum Village centers. He devotes himself to training
young monastics from Western backgrounds, building
residential communities of practice, and developing
programs of mindful service such as the Happy Farm
and the Thích Nhất Hạnh School of Interbeing.