New Years 2026 Council
We gathered on January 24th to pay celebrate to the Chinese New Year, soon to arrive. Coincidentally, this day positioned us between those of our Roman/Gregorian calendar and the Chinese. We embraced a moment to reflect, scan the old year, glance ahead, and pause to feel what’s happening in us now.
This one marks an especially extraordinary year, of the Fire Horse, a rare occurrence. Every two years the elements, including earth, metal, and water, cycle. The animals have one year. Last year, Wood Snake gave us time for cautious progress. Now fire—the most volatile of the five elements—conjoining the galloping, sprinting horse, warns of potential chaos. However, on the brighter side, their forces inspire passionate action with creativity. This combination occurs only once in 60 years. In 1966, major events, some of them upheavals, occurred. The Chinese Cultural Revolution began, and the Vietnam War escalated. A light shined as the Voting Rights Act of the previous year began to find its way. But a major upheaval occurred in the Civil Rights Movement when, in ’66, Stokely Carmichael (soon AKA Kwame Ture) took control of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and coined the phrase “Black Power.” Suddenly, a direct confrontation flamed the previously exclusively nonviolent civil rights movement.
Today’s events whirl like wild horses; forces unabated boil up around our precious globe. Amid these surroundings, the Fire Horse reminds us of change, integral in our practice. Transformation may open uplifting possibilities. It’s a loud world outside as we gather in our Sangha nest.
We brought ourselves here today for Council Practice*. We slowed down. We listened to a moving, edifying, and encouraging Dharma talk by our dear Sensei Shinzan, and now we move to the center together, pull our nest in closer, more intimate: a dear, careful circle of refuge, trust, and acceptance. We sit, kneel, and… a pause… a collective breath… We look; we face one another, willing to support as we each take us all in, preparing to open our personal thoughts, events, successes, and troubles. Honestly and openly, we offer our hearts and get ready to reveal what’s in here, and the feelings can surface. Here, one will be heard fully, without comment or any judgment. What will be said here stays here. We nestle in our discreet realm of compassion.
We lean in; the form begins when one speaks a dedication and lights the candle. Then, one by one, the talking piece passes. Guidelines include speaking from and listening with the heart. At best, we are not rehearsing in our head what to say, but giving all of us to the words of the speaker. We learn, (now some of us for the first time, and many of us over years of this) that listening is a skill, a practice that can ever be refined, improved. This major step melds us as one body, one Shin (meaning mind/heart).
On this day, our topic of the combined New Years brought forth a variety of voices. There were family issues, personal triumphs, and painful burdens. A couple of us expressed their own take on the madness going on in our world outside these walls. One, then another, expressed how they felt safe to open and reveal their inner story here. And one gave voice to their own change in opening with new strength this time. Here, in this circle today, they could do it.
Blowing out the candle, clearing that service, we segued through the kitchen, collecting all the victuals we brought, and continued talking, now in an hour-long potluck feast, redolent with some serious, others laughing, all gratefully immersed in lively conversations emanating from all points and tables outside in our beautiful back garden.
May beings be relieved of suffering in the Fire Horse, 2026 Common Era year.
- Mushin
*Council, in its origin, a Native American practice, often precedes important decisions or tribal actions. Joan Halifax, our Sensei Shinzan’s latest teacher, discovered it and brought it into her Zen practice. It offers a unique opportunity. We Buddhists spend numerous hours, days, and more in ubiquitous silence. We rarely talk together. Council opens a powerful door of communication.
