Last week, I turned forty-six. In the Plum Village Community of Engaged Buddhism, instead of birthday, we say continuation day. A reminder that there is no coming and no going. What we call a beginning is only a continuation in another form. A cloud does not die. It becomes rain. Rain becomes a river. We have never been separate from the conditions that continue us.

As I step into my 46th year, I feel less like I am beginning something and more like I am inhabiting my life more fully. It happened to fall on a blood moon, the earth’s shadow crossing the light, and still luminous.

There is a steadiness that was not there before. A sense of being where I am meant to be. Deep gratitude lives there.

Chihiro asked what my aspiration is for this year. The answer that came was simple: to have no aspiration.

Alignment. Surrender. Trust.

And part of what has shaped that trust is the long journey of learning to belong wherever I stand.

Being born in my particular form as a woman of color, I learned early that I would not automatically be invited to take a seat at the table. No one said it directly. It lived in who was centered without question. In whose voice carried authority. In whose belonging was assumed. In the absence of belonging being extended, I learned to cultivate it within, through an unbroken connection to my own indigenous wisdom stream, for which I feel immense gratitude.

Over the years, I’ve learned how to take my seat. Not by demanding recognition, but by allowing my presence to settle fully into the space, without apology. Taking one’s seat is an inner turning. A quiet release of waiting for permission to belong.

And when I take my seat now, I look around. I notice who may still be standing at the edges. I widen the circle so more of us can sit together.

I learned this not only from my own experience, but from elders who embodied it before me. Recently, our wider Dharma family experienced another continuation as Venerable Dr. Pannavati transitioned.

More than a decade ago, Chihiro and I created two short films about her work. Touching the Untouchable followed her as one of the few Black Buddhist nuns working with the Dalit Buddhist community in Tamil Nadu, my ancestral homeland. We filmed it just a week before our wedding. My Place told the story of her gluten free baking enterprise supporting at risk youth in recovery.

She embodied sacred activism. Contemplation expressed as courageous action. Faith woven into service. A fearless bridge builder across differences. We felt blessed to call her Mammavati. Those films were made more than a decade ago, and still, when I watch them, they move me.

Continuation also lives in what we nurture, what we build, what we devote our life force to.

Many of you know that one expression of this right now is the School of Interbeing. This is not an individual dream. It is a collective one. The School of Interbeing is creating spaces where children grow up knowing they already have a seat. Where awareness and compassion are foundational. Where belonging is practiced daily.

This spring, Brother Phap Dung is offering an eight week course, Americanizing Buddhism, exploring how the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh are taking root in America, with all proceeds supporting the School of Interbeing.

The Mindfulness Bell recently published an article about our family’s move to the foothills of Deer Park Monastery to help begin this school. If you missed our global launch event, Educating for Interbeing, with Jon Kabat-Zinn, Thay Phap Luu, and Kaira Jewel Lingo, here’s the recording. More than 1,300 people registered from over 60 countries, a reminder that this vision is already shared across continents.

If this collective dream resonates, I would be happy to share a funding prospectus and speak more about what we are building. If you know someone who may feel called to step forward with a major gift, I would be grateful for the connection.

For those feeling called to deepen leadership practice this season, the application for the next Transformative Educational Leadership (TEL) cohort has been extended and will officially close on March 15. There are still a few days to apply.

At its heart, this work of leadership is not about certainty or control. It is about learning how to remain present with the world as it is, and to act from that place of awareness and care.

There is a line from Mark Nepo that continues to reverberate in my heart:

“Everything is beautiful and I am so sad.”

Perhaps staying present means allowing both to be true.

I take my seat.
And I make room.

With deep bows

P.S. On the third day of Tet, we were blessed to host several monastics and lay friends for an Indian dinner. Sharing a short 30-second clip, a small glimpse of the joy of our togetherness.