The Way of Tenderness: Awakening through Race, Sexuality, and Gender

by Zenju Earthlyn Manuel

“What does liberation mean when I have incarnated in a particular body, with a particular shape, color, and sex?”

In The Way of Tenderness , Zen priest Zenju Earthlyn Manuel brings Buddhist philosophies of emptiness and appearance to bear on race, sexuality, and gender, using wisdom forged through personal experience and practice to rethink problems of identity and privilege.
Manuel brings her own experiences as a lesbian black woman into conversation with Buddhism to square our ultimately empty nature with superficial perspectives of everyday life. Her hard-won insights reveal that dry wisdom alone is not sufficient to heal the wounds of the marginalized; an effective practice must embrace the tenderness found where conventional reality and emptiness intersect. Only warmth and compassion can cure hatred and heal the damage it wreaks within us.
This is a book that will teach us all.

Genres: Buddhism, Spirituality, Nonfiction, Race, Zen, Social Justice, Gender

152 pages, Paperback

First published February 17, 2015

Reviews

[Gabrielle (Reading Rampage) · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Hatred remains potent whether directed at a construct, an illusion, or at the reality of others. Therefore, identity should not be dismissed in our efforts toward spiritual awakening. (…) Identity is not the problem, but the distortions we bring to it are.”

This is an unusual dharma book in many ways. Right off the bat, it addresses issues that are usually not discussed in books about Buddhism: race, gender and sexuality. There are books about women in Buddhism out there (“Zen Women” is one I especially recommend if you are interested in the topic: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...), and Brad Warner penned an excellent book about sex from a Buddhist perspective (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...), but generally, those things remain unmentioned because of the idea that “we are not our body”. If you’ve read some books on mediation or Buddhism, you probably heard that before, and it’s all good and well in theory: our bodies are impermanent, and while they are necessary (Shozan Jack Haubner once said that all you really need to sit zazen is two lungs and an ass – both of which are part of one’s body!), they are not often the focus of spiritual seekers. But it is important not to dismiss those bodies, because when we are not sitting in meditation, those bodies often end up determining a lot of our lived experience. You will not come to the meditation cushion with the same experiences and expectations if you are a different gender, sexual orientation and skin tone than the majority of the people in the zendo.

In Buddhism, it is often stated that transcending labels and seeing beyond them is crucial - as labels (such as gender, race and sexual preferences) are constructs our minds make up to classify and understand reality more easily. I am generally on board with that idea, because labels are reductive and can be harmful, as they create divisions between people, which hinders us in perceiving the interconnectedness between beings. But there is a big difference between looking past the labels and pretending they don’t exist: they do exist, and like it or not, we drag them around our daily lives, and they can cause us a great deal of suffering. But what are we to do with that suffering?

Zenju Earthlyn Manuel does not want to do away with these labels: she wants to turn them into tools we can use to work towards enlightenment. “In order to forget the self, we must study it. We must look at the identities that the self is emotionally attached to. This is a life-long practice because identity is ever-evolving.”

Her approach is unusual, but deeply compassionate and insightful. In this book, which is not really a Buddhist manual, but more of a text meant to activate reflection, introspection and open-mindedness, she shares a lot of personal experiences that have led her to Soto Zen Buddhism, but also to what she has come to call the way of tenderness. Her definition of that very word has a lot more to do with when one is feeling tender as in vulnerable, than tender in the soft and mushy meaning of the word. And her personal experience was often really brutal, it must be said. She suffered through a lot of systemic oppression, and when she got seriously involved in Buddhism, it was the emphasis on liberation and compassion that really drew her in. So she was a little shocked by the common attitude of dismissing questions of identity as unenlightened; she felt a disconnect that her lived experience could be made “invisible” in the context of Buddhism.

“We perceive the world through our bodies. If the world of perception resides within the body, then the path of spirituality or Dharma must include the body. The path must include the facts of our being raced, gendered, and sexualized sentient beings.”

Through this telling of her experiences, she explores the idea of multiplicity in oneness, and that Dogen’s famous sentence “to study the self is to forget the self” does not mean having amnesia about one’s identity, but to see the differences between beings as part of a much bigger thing than words can adequately capture.

“When we see multiplicity as the varied expressions of nature we are better able to understand that all living beings on this planet exist within oneness.”

I took off one star because it does end up being a bit repetitive, though the points Manuel makes probably need to be made multiple times. There are no instructions, no concrete recommendations in those pages, but there is a lot of inspiration and food for thought to be gained from her words. This is an important book for anyone belonging to a spiritual group who wants to be truly diverse, and to understand what that means. It has given me a lot to think about.

[Tanya McGinnity · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book by Zenju Earthlyn Manuel is essential reading for all Buddhists. Essential.

It is an honest account which examines the injustices of racism, sexism and gender-based oppression from the standpoint of a Buddhist who has experienced each throughout her life. I believe that all sanghas need to read this book in order to truly examine what it means to provide an inclusive and welcoming environment. Many personal anecdotes are cited within its pages and I was left feeling quite uncomfortable by many parts of the book where I was left feeling so terribly sad after reading about the injustices faced by Zenju throughout her life.

It’s a rare book sadly, as the Buddhist bookshelves are not stocked up with books that cover the topics of race, sexuality and gender (as much as we truly need them). These aren’t topics commonly addressed within our sanghas either, given that we may feel unnecessary discomfort in bringing them up. Our failure to do so prevents us from developing as individuals and as a community. It is quite harmful and limites our potential.

The book offers a call for tenderness in the face of this oppression. Tenderness in exploring the pain and suffering present with such divisiveness and hatred. Sure anger has it’s place, but the author asserts that true change comes from tenderness.

“The Way of Tenderness” isn’t written with just one audience in mind, rather takes into account academics, activists, those who are spiritually-minded and those who are both marginalized and privileged. It’s an accessible, honest and passionate read.

Much of the book speaks to the concept of labels and identity and whether, beyond the Buddhist belief that these are to be transcended, they are actually helpful in order for awakening. The suffering caused from facing the challenges and discrimination inherent having been born in a body deemed ‘not normal’ or ‘displaying tendencies or desires outside of the norm’ are ideal tools for awakening according to Zenju. One needs to study the self in order to discover this very tenderness that she believes is so vital to help with transcendence and liberation. By exploring hatred, we come to know peace.

"How can a path to spiritual liberation possibly unfold if we turn away from the realities that particular embodiments bring? To confront hatred with spirituality is to confront the way we view race, sexuality, gender, or whatever form of embodiment we are as living beings. To provide a meaningful path to spiritual liberation, spirituality must acknowledge the body and the denigration of certain types of bodies in the world. We cannot close our eyes to these phenomenon if we really want to be awake and aware."

“The Way of Tenderness: Awakening Through Race, Sexuality and Gender” is a vital read. I only hope that more books, communities, teachers and students begin the dialogue around the issues which Zenju addresses within this book. This is where we will start to see true change emerge and our sanghas and our selves can be fertile ground for the love, compassion and tenderness that the world so desperately needs – regardless of our perceived differences.

[Catherine · Rating 5 out of 5]

Zenju Earthlyn Manuel’s The Way of Tenderness is a deeply personal meditation on the liberative potential of embracing individual experience and embodied human life. Traditional Zen and Buddhist teachings--of liberation and compassion, unity and multiplicity, emptiness and form, interdependence and identity, and the interrelationship of all beings--come to new and urgent life in the crucible of Zenju’s fire.

Read my full review at http://catherinegammon.com/2015/02/02...

[Claribel · Rating 5 out of 5]

An important, relevant, and elegant read for anyone interested in intersectional spirituality. Manuel speaks from the heart and from lived experience, providing ways for understanding the "multiplicity of oneness" and the importance of delving into identity as a place for spiritual/sociopolitical awakening.

[Andrew Marshall · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this book because I need it but when I put it down I'm not quite certain where I stood or how to implement its ideas.

Manuel has an important central point: to be 'good' people, in religious communities, we often try to by pass the 'messiness' of our lives to enter the gate of tranquillity. So it often means that we don't have the conversations about race, sexuality and gender that are necessary to move forward as humans together (rather than lots of different embodiments). Worse still, unwittingly (or perhaps even knowingly) we can continue to denigrate people who are not the same as us.

Being a Buddhist, Manuel goes a step further. And here my knowledge of Buddhism gets a bit shaky, there is a desire for transcendence, oneness and emptiness which goes beyond our bodies (and embraces all living beings). So it is easy to look past our earthly embodiments on the road to enlightenment - which further reinforces her central point.

However, as Manuel explains, we cannot seek enlightenment beyond through our body (and our life experiences) and all the issues that has for other people - if we are not white, heterosexual and a man - that have been projected onto us by society and in some way absorbed and accepted. Baring in mind that much of the mud that is thrown at gay / lesbian / queer people is thrown from the pulpit of churches - this is important work.

Manuel had a revelation that the way forward is through tenderness - especially for ourselves. However, I finished the book unsure about how to achieve this goal. Coming from a self-help writing background, I rather wanted ideas to adopt, steps to take, summaries of the main points. Instead, I got a rather meandering series of thoughts (which I found hard to digest) and some personal stories (which I found illuminating).

Having said all that, I think my problems with the book are as much to do with me as Manuel's writing. My level of understanding, projecting my needs onto this book and my problems concentrating. One day, I will return to it and try again because this is an important theme and not enough people write about it in such an open and tender way.

My problem is that I am not quite certain

[Colin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Like an extended meditation on the need to retain focus on social justice

Zenju raises an essential point - Buddhists correctly identify our incarnation into bodies as a temporary affair, and tend to de-emphasize the temporary aspects of the body in favor of focusing on eternal truths. We do not have a permanent identity, identity is fluid, not just from incarnation to incarnation (if you believe in that sort of thing), but even within a lifetime, as your body ages and changes, and your experiences shape your "identity" (as much as any such thing truly exists). So, the danger is in ignoring issues relating to the body or identity as unimportant, even engaging in willful blindness about issues of race, gender, and sexuality as uncomfortable, and therefore safely shoved to one side as irrelevant. But Zenju - a bisexual woman of color - points out that we engage with the truth while incarnated in bodies, and our bodies and the things we do with our bodies shape our incarnate experiences. "Race" does not exist scientifically speaking, and is an illusory, fleeting thing according to Buddhist thought, so can't we just ignore "race"? That is a trap, because to do so is to be unjust, and to ignore that the experience of race (as a social construct, if nothing elser) has as much reality as any experience in the body. Our experiences of "race" affect us, cause us to act certain ways, be treated certain ways, which is pretty powerful for something that isn't truly real (which, I suppose, could be taken as exemplary of a certain line of Buddhist thought on ALL experiences in the body) . . . Quite a powerful, and often uncomfortable, book.

[Luna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading this through the anti-Asian violence that murdered 6 Asian women in Atlanta, GA in March 2021 was cathartic. I needed this. I needed to hear Zenju Earthlyn Manuel's words on reconnecting our bodies to nature and letting go of internalized racism and white supremacist biases and beliefs that were forced down our throats as people of color.

I highly recommend even if you have no interest in Buddhist philosophies because the book, writing, and words were so tender and healing.

[Frank Jude · Rating 4 out of 5]

From about 2009 to 2015, I was the guiding teacher of what I thought was a thriving sangha here in Tucson, AZ. We had grown from 8 people in my living room to over 40, renting a space for our weekly practice as well as quarterly day-long retreats and yearly week-long retreats. we had gotten to a place where I thought we could investigate issues of structures of oppression regarding race and sexuality and we held a successful (but pointedly not as well attended) day-long retreat with an expert in such work.

Perhaps it was too soon, and in today's world where the "Me Too" movement and Black Lives Matter have become mainstreamed and issues of White supremacy, nativism and racism have even made it into the inaugural address of President Biden, things would go better, but as we began to discuss concepts of misogyny, privilege, and racism some of the sangha began to grow defensive and those more "progressive" felt unheard and misunderstood. I think many of us were not as skillful as we could have been in presenting these ideas for meditative inquiry and action.

One of our practices was to read from a book that had been selected by consensus at a sangha planning meeting. The Way of Tenderness was the choice of our more "progressive" wing, as well as my personal choice. Written by a Black, lesbian Zen teacher, I thought a book with the subtitle "Awakening Through Race, Sexuality, and Gender" would be a perfect fit. Within a few months, those who most lobbied for the book stopped attending our practice as did those most resistant to this material (they said all they wanted to do was meditate). Soon, the sangha was reduced to a handful of people and then that fizzled out. To say I was disappointed in what I thought a brave experiment: a fully consensus-driven, non-hierarchal structure, where I had also started a Dharma Teacher Training in order to move toward a Teaching Council rather than a single guiding teacher, could present an alternative to the traditional authoritarian structure of Zen sanghas would be an understatement.

So, perhaps out of this woundedness, I shelved The Way of Tenderness until recently, when I felt ready to pick it up again. Overall, I feel it still represents an overdue investigation of some of our most pressing issues facing contemporary practitioners. As Zenju Earthlyn Manuel writes, "...our identities in terms of race, sexuality, and gender cannot be ignored for the sake of some kind of imagined invisibility or to attain spiritual transcendence.” Too often practitioners use the concept of "emptiness" and the contingent nature of phenomena (including race and gender) to ignore the real causal effects racism and sexism have on those who are not White and male! But the great Mahayana Buddhist philosopher, Nagarjuna, pointed out that the two truths of the absolute and the relative are BOTH EQULLY TRUE! Race may be empty of any inherent "reality", but it still plays an oversized role in causing societal suffering.

Manuel's presentation of their thesis is at times a bit repetitive, and her logic at times can be difficult to follow. I think this is more to do with her impressionistic presentation than any issue of incoherence. One of her points, "Multiplicity in Oneness" is something I'd like more people to engage with. She writes: "We may think that oneness should exclude marks of diversity like race, sexuality, and gender, yet oneness is inclusive of everything in our lives." Too often indeed, the concept of "oneness" sounds like all should be as bland as the sameness of tapioca. What Nargajuna is telling us is that we are not the same one 'thing' nor are we radically separate things. Not being "things" or entities, there is no-thing that separates us. We are identically empty of self-nature AND we are each of us unique constructions of non-self elements!

"We don't need to drop our identities in order to exist in a state of oneness: we need only recognize the distortions and disfigurements projected onto our identities" Manuel writes and then asks "Can we identify with nature?" They go on to reframe the "We are not our bodies" kind of thinking by pointing out we are our bodies from the perspective of the interrelated conditions our bodies exist within. AND, we are also not a singular entity but an aggregate that, existing in interpenetrating interrelationship, and thus not only our bodies!

There are a very few passages where Manuel comes too close for my taste to the mystical obfuscation of much Zen. When they write "True interrelationship is like the stem from which the many pedaled layers of life flower" they fall into what the Critical Zen Movement calls "dhatu-vada" or the creation of some kind of substrate. Emptiness is not some-thing from which we arise and to which we return. We are already empty of any such essential nature!

Elsewhere, they write as if bodies can have a non-mediated experience of the world, overlooking the obvious fact that the senses already mediate the world: we see only what we are conditioned to see. She asserts that a newborn sees only the form and has to be taught to see the form as a person. Perhaps, but it has been shown that even a newborn is born already with the proclivity to recognize faces whether presented upside-down or rightside-up. Such pattern recognition seems "hard-wired" in and we cannot not see faces as faces and thus significant.

But these are relatively minor quibbles. This is an important book that can help guide further inquiry, discussion, and practice!

[Robyn · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm largely unfamiliar with Buddhism and its contemporary practice, which I think made engaging thoroughly with this book difficult for me. Still, I got a lot out of the author's approach to understanding anti-oppression through Buddhist philosophy, particularly the later sections on embodiment.

[Ro Mo · Rating 5 out of 5]

A must-read for everyone, particularly bit-by-bit in the quiet honesty of early mornings— this is simply a beautiful, approachable, and true mapping of society’s potential to come together and some ways in which to do so. Zenju draws from her own rich life experience and quotes the wisdom of many others, Buddhist and non, to spark a tenderness in the reader and an urgency to share this book with everyone one knows.

[Sparrow Knight · Rating 3 out of 5]

Because of the author's academic voice, I found this a difficult read, which is unfortunate as I think her message is vital & heartfelt. The language just puts it at a remove for me, I had to spend too much time trying to figure out what she was talking about. I know I would benefit from a second reading.

[Jessica · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant and gorgeously written. Manuel shows us a path to liberation that leaves no part of us—or our shared suffering—out.

[Talbot Hook · Rating 3 out of 5]

There is something persistent in this book that I know will force a re-read in the future. I think it may be the dissonance of the work in my mind, for there are many areas of both agreement and disagreement between the author and myself. I'm very skeptical, as I am toward most things smacking of the modern-day spiritual grab-and-go, of any self-described "divine seer and medicine woman" who is primarily guided by "intuition and lucid dreaming". Those things have a great degree of nuance, of course, so I have not shut them out completely as pathways toward human flourishing, but, in my experience, peddlers of such things tend to bring more danger and ignorance into the world than healing and enlightenment. Furthermore, I have a healthy apprehension toward the Politics of Identity, which is at least a part of the puzzle Manuel lays before us. Yet, I've read the work, and these beliefs and ideologies are not obviously present, so I am willing to grant a bit of leniency. Plus, it's well-written, which is always a triumph in the domain of spiritual teachings. With all this baggage out of the way . . .

The primary question of this book is:

What role do our identities play in enlightenment? Is their discussion necessary and helpful, or ultimately detrimental?

This is a query that could only have come about in the modern West. This marriage of Buddhist practice with Identity is certainly a confusing one, and one that is rather unfamiliar to most Buddhist communities, which tend to focus upon the dispelling of such ignorance concerning the world of forms and their appearances. But the author is correct in saying that each person's embodiment is different, and that their path toward enlightenment will thus be different (at least in flavor if not in progression or aim). That's almost so passé as to spurn addressing. And it is seemingly at odds with many Zen-Buddhist meditations on the unity of the path before our feet and the timelessness and universality of the Dharma. As with all Zen thoughts, though, the answer appears both yes and no. The body is a critical portion of meditative practice, as at least five of our senses flow through it in almost every moment. However, the commonalities between human bodies (once stripped of negative social doctrines and prejudices) seem the key universal here, as all human experience cannot be completely foreign to us. It is often said nowadays that we cannot understand the experiences of others, especially as pertains to minorities within society, but this I have never believed, nor will I ever, most likely, as it is either false or so banal as to be meaningless.

Of course, this book is primarily about healing and tenderness, which is often the last thing on society's mind; we much prefer endless vindication and blame, and seek to justify our own anger at every turn of the road - none of which is healthy. So, what is this Way of Tenderness? Ultimately, I'm not sure. As the author indicates early on, it is neither a moment of awakening nor a path of practice. Rather, it is something that simply appears once we have dealt with our sorrows and hatred. I'm not sure I follow this line of reasoning, however, and tend to think that this phenomenon is, in fact, a practice, slightly similar to Metta (loving-kindness) Meditation, at least in ultimate intention. Yet, any "way" to do something has, implicit in its existence as a "way", some sort of path common to humanity. While our individualized pains and anguish are solely ours, so too are they spread across the panoply of human forms, uniting us in emotional duress and mental dissatisfaction. After all, at their fundamental levels, each minority-specific hardship is ultimately attributable to one of the Three Poisons in life: greed, anger, and delusion; while the surface-level details are culturally unique, these three poisons infect us all in a similar manner. So, if the path is taken by working through anger, fear, and heart-ache, it seems as though there should be better and worse ways of treading that path. (Indeed, Manuel herself first came to the threshold of tenderness through seated meditation!) So, to say that the link between practice and embodied tenderness is tenuous at best seems rather disingenuous. Of course, this book is not Buddhist in itself, being rather syncretic and eclectic, so we should not expect one meditative path to provide the sole answer. But, it seems as though some amount of practice is necessary toward the goal of tenderness. I would argue that tenderness is something that can be practiced; just as we learn to deal with emotional states and thoughts through meditation, so too can we learn to entertain our ignorance, anger, and fear in ways that give them no power over us. They can ultimately be viewed, unraveled, and set free. And, hopefully, in that place, in that new soil, healthier states can arise that endure beyond our meditations.

There are many paths forward in the world, and some are doubtlessly better than others. I think that Manuel's tenderness is certainly a lamp illuminating some of our better options.

[JA Grier · Rating 4 out of 5]

A unique and necessary book that gives new insight into how to integrate our bodied existence into the Zen concept of 'no self.' I will make some attempt to summarize, but I do not have anything like the author's way with words, nor her intimate understanding of Zen. This book is most likely to be appreciated by those who already have some basic understanding of Zen and of meditation (zazen). The author jumps right in with concepts common to Buddhist thought, and through examples and discourse shows her own understanding of the importance of our bodied nature.

I have also struggled with the apparent discord between the necessity to honor the pain and pleasure of living as a bodied person (with traits of race, sexuality, gender, ability, and more) and the teachings of Zen to move towards a perception of no self-identity. This movement towards a no-self seems to dishonor the pain that comes from people making some aspects of the body 'superior' and others 'inferior' and the resultant injustice. The author addresses this difficulty by providing insight into how our difficult embodied experiences (especially those of discrimination, abuse, violence, bullying, neglect, death) can be the entry point for our understanding of the interconnectedness and inter-relationship of all nature/people. She posits that it is this perception of inter-relationship that leads to the Way of Tenderness.

My four star review is a reflection of the fact that I still don't know what the Way of Tenderness is. The book allows us to understand that there is a way forward through our bodied nature which honors that sense of being, but does not come through in the end with enough material to lead us fully towards the tenderness. Still, this is a must read for Zen-ish folks like myself who need new ways of viewing our bodied existences in this time of great injustice and unfairness. I'll certainly be looking into the other books by this author.

[amf · Rating 4 out of 5]

Listened to a recent Dan Harris podcast with Zenju Earthlyn Manuel that struck a chord. In many ways, I thought I've nothing in common with Manuel, yet the words were felt too deeply for that to be true. Ergo, I got ahold of this on audio, read by ZEM, and did a deep dive. Granted, I need to relisten because it was at set at 2x speed, however, the gems that I needed to hear, stuck.

Zenju Earthlyn Manuel writes in a way that takes you alongside without judgement or lecture. However, I am far from a perfect human and have errored many times in letting other get away with bad behavior because I believed a narrative about "us and them and me". ZEM reminds me that these embodied narratives are to be reflected upon and understood for what they are...which is often not the truth.

The first listen offered me two takeaways to immediately reflect upon: the dangers of letting ancestral and societal belief systems "live" regarding race, sexuality, and gender [I'd add age too] & believing that one's outward appearance is who we are....or a reflection of who we are...and letting others set that as our "worth" is an imprisonment of soullessness (my interpretation).

[Ji Song · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really loved this book. And tore through it in a few sittings. I think this is because it resonates. It resonates not because I 100% understand what it is like is be a black lesbian woman growing up in super racist America. But when do I really ever know what it is like to be another person, until I know them? And how will I ever know them if I think we are connected through a boring flattened oneness of blanket white that some people imagine emptiness to be. Rather, of course seeing the person in front of me is to be open to everything that they are :) It sucks... but some of what they are will be the lived experience of being in a body, and in particular, the meaning of the labels that society puts on those bodies... and the hurt that this might have left on them. We are all deeply connected, and one-ness is to be connected to not just our own pain, but the wounds of everyone (and everything). In that way, Z.E. Manuel is truly pointing at that direct truth. I hope many many many people give her book a read :)

[Brett Marcus Cook · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Nature is form. Body is form. Body is nature. Nature is body."

A thoughtful, elegant book built off of the ways that religion and spirituality tend to ignore matters around race, sexuality, and gender, from a mostly Buddhist perspective. The author refers to these three things as different embodiments, and it's the way she discusses embodiment, speaking against the notion that the body and soul are separate entities, along with the idea that we are somehow separate from nature, that made me want to read this.

The main gist is about how we should see each other and ourselves in our totality, without preconceived ideas based on race, sexuality, or gender, without expectation, and that multiplicity and oneness can and do coexist at the same time.

Just really beautiful, thoughtful stuff that's similar to things I've been thinking about lately myself, and a lot here that will hopefully stay with me.

[Guillaume D. · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have offered this book to a friend without reading it two years ago and it came back to me in such a beautiful and great timing. While reading I could see how much I could grasp a more define understanding of it, understanding I was not focused on two years ago. I have to join some other readers finding the discourse a tiny bit too academical for my level (plus being a non English native speaker) but I'm already so much looking forward to second reading that it doesn't matter. It's about what i get from it and I'm deeply thanking our writer for sharing so much of her processes and lessons from life.

[Pontiki · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an atypical, wonderful, thoughtful exploration of the interrelatedness of the spirit and the body.

I really enjoyed the way the embodied experience was described, and how awakening can also be experienced through the body, not just outside it.

The paradoxical argument resonated with me because the issues of racism, gender, and sexuality are so much a part of oppressed peoples’ lives, it’s almost a disservice, even in enlightenment, to move away from these experiences.

The book was short, but very deep and impactful, full of insights and truths from this priest’s perspective.

An excellent read.

[Sol Smith · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book looks at race, sexuality, and gender issues through a Buddhist lens. It asserts that the concepts of emptiness and no-self are helpful in personal liberation, but that collective wisdom must respect collective pain caused by hateful thinking. Basically, honoring the particular suffering of oppressed groups is necessary for understanding the personal suffering of individuals. It makes some wonderful distinctions and demonstrates strong Buddhist thinking, but the language lacked the simplicity that I enjoy in other writers of this genre. I found it a bit repetitive; however I have a feeling it would have seemed better read aloud.

[Chris · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is such a powerful book. I am familiar with the author, but would have avoided it because of the Awakening in the title. I'm not looking to awaken, just to experience my life. I read this with my book group, and reading with them always adds so much to the experience. I am grateful for them in my life. Zen books generally feel very peaceful, and I always appreciate reading them. This one really touched me personally. She reveals her vulnerability, and that touched mine. I want to say I'll reread this one day when I'm feeling stronger, but I probably should reread it especially when I'm not feeling strong.

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

Zenju Earthlyn Manuel has helped me tap into a place where I can acknowledge my own and others' pain, our beauty and strength in suffering through life, and to speak from a tender place. Ignorance, self-annihilation, and silence to our diverse society is what weighs us down. It's not until we open ourselves up to honest dialogue about our differences as human beings can we come to feel and understand the way of tenderness. Hope I didn't miss the point, but I think that her words are enlightening to our ever evolving world.

[Vishnu · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absolutely phenomenal book! I only wish I read it sooner. So powerful, so moving, and so helpful for those engaging with Western Buddhism as a non-white person. I'm not sure how much I can say, or need to say here. The core of the book, which I think is something that non-white practitioners cannot avoid (as much as Buddhist communities may tend to avoid it), is how we might reconcile the Buddha's teachings on "non-self" with the importance of our identities to who we are in this country and in the world.

Again, can't recommend it enough!

[Bradley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent, heart-piercing reflections on how we can make sure our spiritual practices don’t become another place to hide, avoid, repress, or bypass, and instead become places where awakening is possible—all while making sure we look at and address any and all elephants in the room, with love and with care.

"Hatred remains potent whether directed at a construct, an illusion, or at the reality of others. Therefore, identity should not be dismissed in our efforts toward spiritual awakening… Identity is not the problem, but the distortions we bring to it are.”

[Danny Avila · Rating 4 out of 5]

Manuel writes about embodiment in a very clear and elegant way. Coming to accept our human forms as embodiments of nature itself is a freeing revelation to seek further clarity into our own personal experiences of suffering. To accept the interconnectedness of our realities, allowing us to come closer to a deeper understanding of our true nature, is essential insight that will guide us on the path to love and peace. Thank you Earthlyn!

[Melissa Tennyson · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a beautiful memoir and reflection on the author's path to awakening as a queer black woman. I so appreciate her deep reflections on race, sexuality, and gender as they relate to her own liberation. She writes of finding a way to openhearted tenderness in a world full of pain and trauma, and to me, that is so profound. She quotes Audre Lorde often, and it's so powerful to see Buddhist philosophy and practice interwoven with antiracist feminist politics.

[Beanie · Rating 5 out of 5]

An absolute little gem of a book - I wish this was compulsory reading for everyone so that we could cultivate a more tender interconnected society.

“Just as plants are identified, categorized, and named according to the physical forms they inherit, so too are human forms. This naming and labeling, however, is not the affliction of our times. What we assign to those names is what causes affliction”

[Samantha LaChiana · Rating 5 out of 5]

This one found me at the perfect place, and the right time, and for that I’ve never had a more enjoyable reading experience to-date. I found this read to be an explorative, selfless investigative experience heightened my understandings of perception and my existing philosophy on the innate connection between our minds and our expression/autonomy.

[Tyson · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am so hlad that I read this book. Many of the experiences can be shared; regardless the form of discrimination you have faced.

Being brave and treading the waters of interconnectedness can soothe so many pains.

[Jocelyn Phung · Rating 4 out of 5]

intriguing perspective on oppression and identity. i still have some unanswered questions but perhaps that is the intention of the author. might gain a deeper understanding of this book after i rewatch kung fu panda