Rev. Danny Fisher

As I mentioned, my grandmother, Mae Hoffman Fisher, passed away the Sunday before last at age 80.  I didn’t notice until this week, though, that her death happened to fall hours ahead of the ten-year anniversary of the death of my first Buddhist teacher, Godwin Samararatne.

I’ve blogged more than a few times about Godwin in the past:  He was a well-known and well-regarded meditation teacher and librarian in Sri Lanka.  He taught primarily at Nilambe Meditation Centre near Kandy, but was called to teach all across Europe and Asia as well.  His posthumously-published books include Talks on Buddhist Meditation and Discovering Meditation.

I studied vipassana meditation with Godwin and Anagarika Shri Munindra when I was a student on Antioch Education Abroad’s Buddhist Studies in India Program in 1999.  I don’t know that I will ever be able to fully convey the extent of his effect on me.  He is my “heart teacher,” and the most “awake” person I have ever known.

“Soft-spoken” in that he not only spoke with little frequency but also just barely above a whisper, Godwin otherwise should have been a constant center of attention.  With his tall stature, shock of silvery hair, and disarming gaze, he was certainly one of the most physically striking individuals I had ever seen.

One would think that these attributes, combined with his regular outfit of a stark-white dhoti kurta, would make him pretty hard to miss.  Somehow, though, he always managed to deflect attention from himself:  walking with our program director Robert Pryor and Munindra-ji, Godwin hung in their shadows, listening to their conversations like a student rather than their equal.

With his head downcast, arms folded across his chest, and gentle steps, Godwin carried himself quietly—completely devoid of any pomp.  I cannot overstate the effect that even just his presence had on me.  Almost the entirety of what I might know or understand about the Buddhist way of life comes from the too brief and too few (but still powerful) interactions I had with him.  His close friend U.C.S. Perera would later say of him that:

Wherever he was, he created a fertile void, a pregnant emptiness, around him, where all barriers melted away.  He infused the environment with gentle compassion, such that his friends became your friends and yours his.  That was the inexplicable phenomenon he was.  His kindness, self benevolence, and genuineness, influenced those he came in contact with, and without exaggeration, they became different, their attitudes changed, there was an irresistible desire to be like him, think like him and act like him.

In his teachings, Godwin stressed the importance of mindful awareness as a key component of Buddhist practice and life generally.  “The importance of meditation is learning to achieve a mind that is free, a mind that is happy, a mind that is peaceful, a mind that has loving kindness,” he once said.  He talked often about how important he felt it was to learn to be “one’s own best friend.”  Too often, he lamented, people assign themselves “pluses” and “minuses” based on their experiences, making it difficult to simply be present in the moment.  In our guided meditation sessions, he would often suggest “no thinking, no judging.  Just breathing.  Moment to moment.  If a thought comes into your head, notice it.  Welcome it with loving kindness.  Treat it as you would an old friend, but being careful not to let it overstay its welcome.  No pluses, no minuses.  Just breathing.  Moment to moment.”  For Godwin, the key to peace was the ability to rest in mindful awareness.  He once said:

A meditation master described his practice as:  “When I eat, I eat.  When I walk, I walk.  When I sleep, I sleep.”  So when you consider this, you’ll realize that meditation is related to ordinary things, not extraordinary things, not special things…[When we do] simple, practical, ordinary things in life consciously, then these ordinary things become extraordinary.

Over at dhamma musings, Ven Shravasti Dhammika offers a lovely remembrance of Godwin on the ten-year anniversary of his passing.  Additionally, over at The Buddhist Channel, a eulogy written by our friend Bhikkhu Bodhi for Godwin at the time of his death has been reprinted.

Ten years.  It really doesn’t seem like that long ago.  Maybe because he and his teachings left such indelible impressions.

At any rate, the end of March seems to have become a time to remember not just one, but two precious teachers.  Grandma, you’re in good company.