BLOG POSTS

I first met Jack in 1979 when I entered his class on Religions of India at the University of California at Santa Cruz.

He was gifted at explaining complex topics.  He told us stories of Dipa Ma, Munindra-ji, Ajahn Chah, and Ajahn Buddhadassa showing us why they were loved and regarded as great meditation masters. When students asked him questions, he responded to the human being underneath the question.

I was riveted, sitting on the edge of my chair, soaking up what he was saying, letting my worldview re-organize itself around what I was hearing and what he was modeling. After a week of being in that class, I knew that spiritual life would be the cornerstone of my world. After a month, I had a vision of being a nun and ended up spending 28 years living as a monastic.  I had never known anyone with Jack’s combination of brilliance, humility, wisdom, and kindness. It didn’t matter if I could verify in my own direct experience much of what he talked about. I wanted to be like him.

On March 12, 2023, Jack passed away peacefully with his immediate family at his side. Jack radically shifted the course of my life. I know this is true for many others. I take this time to honor him and celebrate his life.

Jack was a renowned meditation teacher and clinical psychologist. He is known for studying the self from both psychological and Buddhist perspectives and creating a bridge between psychoanalysis and Theravada Buddhist practice. The groundbreaking book, Transformations of Consciousness: Conventional and Contemplative Perspectives on Development, co-authored with Ken Wilber and Dan Brown, affirmed the importance of both psychological development and profound spiritual insights. Jack’s famous line: “You have to be somebody before you can be nobody,” distills these truths.

Born in Boston, on June 19, 1939, Jack’s spiritual journey began with his Catholic upbringing. At age 16, he read Thomas Merton’s autobiography as a Trappist monk, The Seven Storey Mountain, kindling Jack’s interest in a life dedicated to contemplation and service. As a student at the University of Notre Dame, he visited Merton’s Abbey of Gethsemani, and by the time he graduated, he decided to become a monk. Eventually, he went to Gethsemani, where he practiced under the guidance of Thomas Merton for a brief time.

His academic interests took him back to Europe to pursue graduate work in Munich and England, where he went to Oxford for a doctorate in theology.

It was while he was at the University of Chicago, where he earned a PhD in clinical psychology, that Jack’s search took a life-changing turn after an unplanned stop at a bookstore. He found a copy of The Heart of Buddhist Meditation, by the Theravada scholar and monk, Nyanaponika Thera. “I got about thirty pages into it,” he recalled, “and I knew that I had found what I had been looking for all my life.”

In 1975, he received a Fulbright scholarship that took him to India to study how the self constellates in a meditation master’s mind. Jack told mesmerizing stories about his experiences spending extended time with Dipa Ma and Munidraji. One of these stories lit me up.

“Munindra-ji was speaking about the textual reference that said you had to be a man to be a Buddha. Dipa Ma was in the back of the room and looked like she was dozing, like she was asleep – but she sat bolt upright and said ‘I can do anything a man can do.’” When I heard this, I was determined to meet her. Nine years later, I did.

When Jack returned to the U.S. from India, he wrote scholarly articles and co-authored books on psychotherapy and meditation, including Transformations of Consciousness, The Consumer’s Guide to Psychotherapy, and was invited by the Dalai Lama join him as a panelist summarized in Worlds in Harmony: Dialogues on Compassionate Action. Returning from India, Jack became a board of director for both the Insight Meditation Society and the Barre Center for Buddhist Studies, where he served for many years.

Jack’s time in India was transformative. “I had finally seen not only my own suffering but everybody else’s,” he said. He devoted the last 25 years of his career to private practice in Cambridge, MA. He continued with a post-doctoral-studies at the Menninger Foundation where he met his wife, Renee DeYoe. He also taught and supervised psychotherapy in the Department of Psychiatry at Cambridge Hospital and Harvard Medical School.

in 1985, Jack came to Insight Meditation Society at the end of the 3-month retreat that I was on. I was excited to share my insights. He looked at me with very loving eyes and said, “Ah yes there are many big and small insights on the path.” It was a very gentle way to help me normalize what was happening and feel more rooted.

Several times I met Jack at his office in Cambridge. When I shared some of my own stories meeting Dipa Ma and experiences of her after she died.  He lit up, “Ma, is always with me.” Hearing Jack describe his love for horses and how alive he felt around them; the communication he shared with them; I could see his love for authentic connection.

He laughed when he recounted how Thomas Merton told him he wasn’t suited to being a monk. Yet, whenever he talked about his family, he beamed with pride, joy and deep satisfaction.

Jack was a magnificent human. He leaves a big empty place in our world. I miss him as I know his family and many of his colleagues, friends, students, and patients do too. And yet, I recognize Jack’s legacy is living. What he clarified, built, taught and the myriad ways he loved, carries on.

On Easter Sunday, I went to the beach. I took grief with me.

The day before, I had the privilege of attending a memorial—a kind of bullshit-free zone where people showed up raw and real. It was one of those rare spaces where love and grief exist side-by-side without pretense. Again and again, people said things like, “He was my best friend. He saved my life. I wouldn’t be here without him.”

In that circle of grief, I could feel the sacredness of what we were witnessing. People spoke without censure, honoring the life of their friend, listened with their hearts, with love, friendship, and mutual support.

We all carry our personal history. Even after decades of inner work, even when we’ve become a force for good in other people’s lives, even after deep insight—we may not be able to save ourselves. Who amongst us is immune from this truth?

We live in an age of socially engineered trauma. This isn’t just about our personal pasts. There is something larger, something insidious: the intentional spread of chaos and cruelty designed to destabilize us. It’s an assault on the nervous system that makes us more vulnerable, more likely to fall back into patterns we thought we had outgrown.

That’s why we need to pay attention to the signs.

If your go-to tools aren’t helping you find your center, it’s not because you failed. It’s a signal: you’re in over your head. That’s when we need to find our way to shallower waters. Sometimes we need life rafts.

Start with self-awareness. What are your early signs of dysregulation? Do you freeze or go numb? Maybe you feel the need to fight, flee, or disappear altogether. These are real responses. And when you’re outside your window of tolerance, the first thing to go offline is your memory of what helps.

Body awareness is essential. When the mind goes offline, the body still whispers. Can you notice the difference between flesh and something that feels like concrete? The sense of collapse, or the charge of fight in your limbs? Learning to listen to the body can give us a way back in when everything else feels scrambled.

Are there places that help you settle—somewhere that brings comfort or a sense of being more resourced? Sometimes, even when our thinking mind shuts down, the body remembers. A quiet pull to walk, to lie down, to be with a close friend or an animal you love, to go to the ocean—it can be a lifeline when words and thoughts aren’t available.

Community support matters. What are the feedback loops in your communities? Are there people who check in when you start going quiet? Do you have systems that reflect back when something seems off? We need more than individual resilience. We need networks of care.

To those in recovery, in helping professions, or simply committed to growth and awakening: this is our collective work now. Not just to heal ourselves, but to recognize the scale of what we’re up against and to create practices, feedback systems in our communities that help.

Grief walks with us. But so does love.

I say this with care, not to capitalize on a tragedy, but to offer support: Integrated Meditation is a 6-month program with tools, practices that may genuinely help at a time like this. If it feels resonant, I’d love to explore how to make this work accessible to you and your communities.

If we continue building the capacity we need to meet these challenging times—together, we honor the lives that have been dedicated to this pursuit, even when they no longer walk amongst us.

With care,

Amma Thanasanti

Dear Friends,

It has been some time since the last Awakening Truth blog. I am happy to write to you, and I hope your practice continues to sustain you during these turbulent times.

A brief update

The past year I had surgery followed by chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Gratefully, the treatments are over. This journey has made it clear that resilience is not just a matter of basic health, good practices, determination, or resources—but is ultimately sustained by the strength of the networks that hold us. While full recovery will take time, I have an excellent prognosis and deep gratitude for the support and care that carried me through.

The recent U.S. inauguration and ensuing political turmoil affect not only those in the U.S. but people worldwide. As we navigate this complex moment—politically, socially, and ecologically—many of us may experience a wide range of emotions in response – our body, heart, and mind struggling under the weight of the chaos.

Wood Wide Web

Looking to find perspective, I spent a weekend immersed in the ecosystem of an old-growth redwood grove. I saw how they weathered storms, fires, and floods and created symbiosis with fungi, all the while reaching toward the sun. Their roots intertwine, offering one another structural support and sharing nutrients through vast underground networks. They care for their young, defend against threats, and communicate with each other. Yet, that grove wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for benefactors who purchased the land and the team of people committed to protecting it. Every part made the whole.

I left the redwood grove filled with gratitude, locating a source of inner strength, resilience, and hope. The ancient ones helped me see how as human beings we can get through these times. What I offer next is a reflection combining their successful strategies and trauma-informed Dharma.

Navigating the Fork in the Road

The Dharma offers us guidance, and the Second Noble Truth—understanding how suffering is created and how it can end—illuminates a path forward. It shows us the choices we have and the consequences of where we place our attention.

From a trauma-informed lens, we encounter two sequential forks in the road.

1. The First Fork: Can we be with our experience? If we are numb, frozen or the feelings are too intense, we pause—soothing ourselves, connecting with inner resources, and finding a sense of safety. If we are managing what we are experiencing, proceed to the second fork.

2. The Second Fork: Will the thoughts, beliefs, and habit patterns we focus on deepen suffering or lessen it?

Many people are feeling numb or frozen right now. It’s hard to focus and do simple tasks. Our first job is to come out of the freeze. Trauma-informed Dharma tools can help. Movement, focusing attention on comforting things, avoiding stressful things, and connecting with humans, animals, and nature can help. Once there is a modicum of capacity to be with what is going on, if the impulse to distract arises, rather than following it, we might turn our attention to the body. What sensations are present? What feeling tones do they have? Simply witnessing, without acting on impulse, begins to unwind the cycle that feeds distraction. This leads to greater choice in where we can focus,  increased capacity to be with our experience, and more clarity.

Turning Toward the Light

Like the trees, we are naturally flexible and responsive. We can pause, soften tension, and reconnect with the ground beneath us. And once resourced, we might ask:

• Who in our community is struggling?

• Right from where we are, with what we have available now, how can we support each other?

Even when we are in the middle of a socially engineered trauma activation where shock, anger, division, despair, or overwhelm are the desired results—we can refuse to succumb to hatred. Instead, we commit to being present to what we are thinking and feeling, and discern what we choose to follow. In this way, we find the next available step of where to focus and what we can do to help. We don’t need to resolve the bigger problems, have special qualities, be particularly strong, or be spiritually evolved. We need the determination to take the next step toward the reality of how interconnected life is and we are.

None of us can manage multiple crises alone. We need each other. Wise friends and shared practices help us keep perspective. Some days, we reach out for support. On other days, we extend it. Often, we are held in mutual-support circles. Particularly because this past year was so rough, I made it a priority to dance.

Awakening Truth Leadership Sangha

Our Awakening Truth Leadership Sangha—Kat DiPietro, Brian Smith, and myself—brings together a combined 108 years of committed meditation practice. For over two years, we have met monthly, dedicated to deepening trauma-informed Dharma and community. Our work includes:

• Offering a Trauma-Informed Satipatthana Series, applying trauma-sensitive insights and practices to the Four Foundations of Mindfulness. More details here.

• Leading the Integrated Meditation Program (IMP) a three-dimensional field designed to transform challenging patterns, cultivate confidence, and foster authentic connection.

• Creating an Integrated Meditation Program Facilitator Training to support future IMP cohorts.

• Meditation

• Compassionate Witness

Closing Reflections

Repeatedly shifting from the cycle of suffering to the ending of suffering illuminates who we are beneath the patterns of thoughts and emotions. Knowing this fundamental truth of who and what we are is where we find sustainable courage, determination, and hope. It helps us move beyond narratives of domination and separation into a lived understanding of our interconnectedness. It supports creating islands of sanity and circles of safety where we offer the skills and resources we have available. Each time we deliberately choose the path of less suffering, we ease the pain for ourselves and others. We go against the forces designed to numb, confuse, divide, and overwhelm us. Instead, we take a stand, expressing our humanity, our connection to each other, and to the web of life where we are inextricably embedded. Each time we choose the second fork in the road, each time we support another to do this, our diamond-like brilliance emerges, shedding light despite the darkness.

Together, one step at a time, we walk this path.

Yours in the Dharma,

Amma

Photo: Joeyy Lee from Unsplash

Numb. Frozen. Unable to sleep, focus, or think clearly. Simple tasks are difficult. Emotions are intense and unmanageable. You feel exhausted, shattered, and overwhelmed.

This is not random or personal. This is the designed effect of Socially Engineered Trauma.

Traditional meditation tells us to sit alone, close our eyes, and focus inward. Sometimes, that can make things worse. We don’t need to abandon meditation—we need trauma-informed tools that help us harness meditation’s power for times just like this.

Here’s what can help right now:

• Connect – with people, animals, nature. This is not a time to isolate.
• Move – clap, rock, stretch, dance. Let your body release what it’s holding.
• Breathe deeply – sing, hum, chant, or even shout. Let your breath reset your nervous system.
• Soothe your system – engage in activities that calm and comfort you.
• Take care of the basics –  food, water, sunlight, exercise, elimination, and rest.
• Laugh – even if you have to fake it at first, laughter is a nervous system reset.
• Sleep, if you can – even small moments of rest will help.

If you’re looking for more support:

• Trauma-Informed Satipatthana – a series that explores a trauma-informed approach to the Foundations of Mindfulness, making use of this ancient set of practices for times like this.
• Integrated Meditation Program – a community-based, evidence-backed program designed to create safety and deep healing through meditation and connection.

You are not alone. We’re in this together. I’ll do whatever I can to help.

Amma

Photo: Brandon Green on Unsplash

I feel passionate about the Integrated Meditation Program (IMP) because its tools and practices bring a sense of aliveness, joy, and connection to me, my colleagues, and students. I see the impact in all parts of my life.

If, like me, you’ve felt a persistence of lack of safety and confidence, subtle or not, and are ready to practice in a way that supports every aspect of your life, I invite you to learn more about this process and my journey to get here.

For 26 years, I lived as a Buddhist nun, immersing myself in classical meditation practices and community life. Meditation and the community in which we practiced, were my life—it’s where I sought refuge, healing, and meaning. Meditation has been invaluable, offering strength, clarity, and insights, guiding me to qualities of the heart and quieting the agitated mind. But even with decades of practice and deep insights, I was left with pervasive experiences of lack of safety and low self-worth. My observations included seeing how senior monastics who had signs of deep states of realization yet were blind to the impact of their personal bias’, attitudes, words and actions.

It would be hard to list all the tools, supports and insights meditation has offered me. Yet as invaluable as it’s been, by itself it didn’t help me learn to notice when my overwhelm was taking me out of my window of tolerance, shift my focus then to notice pleasant experiences to stay present with what was happening and not disassociate. Meditating didn’t help me understand why my tendency is to freeze. Nor did it help me identify and defend against micro and macro aggressions living in this world as a woman. Meditation didn’t help me see the pattern of trauma passed on by my ancestors. Meditation didn’t help me differentiate between the dark night of the soul, the natural fear before opening to liberating insights and the terror of a trauma activation. It didn’t show me how I was using meditation to solidify patterns that no longer served me. Nor did meditation help me discern when turning towards pain wasn’t helpful.

These experiences are not unique to me. As a meditation teacher, I see students struggle with similar issues. For some, traditional meditation can be triggering or be a vehicle for dissociation – checking out rather than checking in. This leaves students further from the deeper states they seek and confused because they are following the meditation instructions as they have been taught.

In the monastery and after I left the UK to live as an independent monastic, and then eventually disrobed, I wrestled with the dawning realization that meditation was not the only practice I needed to end my personal suffering. Yet I remained deeply committed to ‘the truth’ that the Buddha spoke of, and found skillful means to end the kinds of suffering I was experiencing. I studied Integral Theory, Attachment Theory, practiced relational practices including Insight Dialogue, inquiry, and other forms of meditation, movement and energy practices. Everything had meaning and value and yet, attachment theory was the missing piece. It gave me a framework for understanding and tools to transform patterns that hadn’t shifted with any other practice. My personal experience is that with the tools of attachment repair, I have developed a level of resilience that makes healing other challenging patterns more accessible. I’ve noticed that instead of subtly dissociating, I can stay present and track my own sensations more accurately, I am able to safely feel and release the charge connected with challenging patterns and, thus transform them.

A relevant application for meditators is that when approaching profound states of meditation it’s common for fear to show up. When underlying causes of challenging patterns are not repaired, this natural fear can lead to an intense activation. When that occurs, it often leads to retreating from these deep insights. I have heard my students’ describe profound states of meditation, the fear arising and the dissociation and retreat away from the fear which prevented access to the deep insights. When the underlying causes of challenging patterns were repaired, they had greater capacity to access and stabilize in the deeper states of meditation.

The late Dr. Daniel P Brown and Dr David Elliott’s 3-pillar program, blends collaboration, mentalization, and attachment repair work using their innovative Idealized Parental Figure (IPF) imagery. My personal journey with this program and working directly with Dr Elliott, revealed the profound impact of combining these tools, leading me to develop a community-based practice where meditators can heal challenging patterns and discover, individually and in community, the peace they long for. Through community practices we foster feelings of safety and belonging, enabling participants to first imagine and later feel directly the 5 qualities of an ideal parental figure – protection, attunement, soothing, delight, and encouragement. The absence of these 5 qualities during formative years is often what gives rise to the challenging patterns that are so resistant to change. Regular experience of these 5 qualities naturally transforms challenging patterns, giving rise to the development of self-compassion, healthy self-view, and confidence. These emerge alongside the softening or falling into abeyance of challenging patterns, allowing practitioners to approach emotional challenges with greater ease and resilience. By practicing in a community that mirrors our experiences and strengths, we build an internalized sense of security and a sense of community that genuinely sees and supports us. This safer holding environment enables access to deeper meditation states and insights that were once out of reach.

So, what have people experienced in IMP? Feedback shows a deep and pervasive shift in their lives and well being. Participants share their experiences:

“I feel less vulnerable to being hijacked by behaviors and beliefs.”

“I’ve had many years of really difficult meditation retreats where terror and existential dread would bubble up early in the retreat and wouldn’t leave. Since beginning my work with Amma, I have had two out of two meditation retreats
where no fear and dread have arisen, and in their place, peace and joy.”

“I am much quicker to open to and embrace difficult, strong emotions as they arise in my experience.”

If you’re ready to bring aliveness, joy, and connection into your meditation practice and all parts of your life, I invite you to join the drop in groups where you can experience some of the practices and get a feeling for the potential of what a community committed to these tools and practices might offer.

We are currently accepting applications for the IMP May 2025 cohort.

If you are interested in the program evaluation results of our first cohort, click here.

Photo: Rene Bohmer Unsplash

We launched the Integrated Meditation Program (IMP) in 2024. The first cohort ran from January to July 2024.  The premise behind this innovative blend of mindfulness, attachment repair, and community practice was that it could fill some of the gaps left by traditional meditation approaches. To see how the results measured against the premises, Hannah Smith, a professional program evaluator, compiled and processed the qualitative and quantitative data. A summary of the results follows.

Program evaluation is important for us to understand how the program works—and for whom—in the service of its evolution and its ability to deliver meaningful and lasting change. During the first cohort, the faculty and participants felt the power of this program and its practices – and the data helped validate this felt experience. We want to share some of these key findings with you. It’s important to keep in mind while reading, all participants in the program had been meditating for at least three years prior to joining the IMP, so these improvements occurred with folks that already had experience as meditators. Here’s a taste of what we discovered:

• Mindfulness Deepened: Participants showed statistically significant improvements in mindfulness, particularly in their ability to observe thoughts and emotions without reacting immediately. This kind of nonreactivity is a game-changer for anyone seeking inner calm and clarity, even for those experienced with meditation.
• Negative Thought Patterns Softened: Assessments revealed significant reductions in deeply ingrained schemas like “vulnerability to harm” and “negativity.” For many, this meant a quieter, kinder inner narrative.
• Relationships Transformed: Every single participant reported positive changes in their relationships—with themselves or with others. They described feeling more compassionate, connected, and confident, not just in their meditation practice but in their everyday interactions.
• Emotional Resilience Strengthened: Using tools like the Idealized Parent Figure (IPF), participants learned to stay present with strong emotions, approaching them with curiosity instead of avoidance. This resilience rippled out into other areas of their lives, from managing stress to navigating difficult conversations.

A common theme identified among participant responses regarding the overall impact of the IMP was the power of community. Meditation in community isn’t just about practicing together; it’s about creating a container with intelligence that supports, protects, and heals. As one participant stated in reference to the power of connection and community: “I have a much deeper sense that I am not alone.”

It’s important to acknowledge the limitations of the study. We had a small sample size so we know more research is needed. We are committed to continuing the IMP, which will include data driven assessments in order to refine the program and build a robust body of evidence. And we are delighted to see initial results indicating this program has the potential to foster mindfulness, emotional resilience, and healthier relationships.

If you are interested in looking at the complete program evaluation please see: Integrated Meditation Program 2024 – Evaluation Report

If you are interested in looking at the information for Integrated Meditation Program Cohort 2 starting May 2025, look here.