By Ann
This morning, I want to share a few thoughts on the word “becoming”—a word that holds a special place in my Zen practice. When I separate it—“be-coming”—I notice how “be” is about presence, and “coming” is about movement. That contradiction is at the heart of Zen: being exactly where you are, while also moving forward.
I’ve been blessed with teachers who shaped how I understand this journey. The first was Sister Margaret Miller, my spiritual director from the Holy Name Sisters. In those days, Catholicism was about believing in a God out there—a God who judged right and wrong. Sister Margaret couldn’t hear very well, and I’m not sure she always understood me. But what she gave me was the pure gift of acceptance, even without full understanding. She believed in me without comprehending all my struggles to blend psychology and spirituality, and that belief was a quiet force in my life.
My second teacher was Father Tom Hand, a Jesuit who studied Zen in Japan for decades. His Zen training changed the way he read the stories of Jesus. He saw the host—the bread—as not just the body of Christ, but a symbol of everything being connected. As Thich Nhat Hanh says, a piece of paper is also the sun and the rain. Father Tom helped me see the unity in all things and introduced me to the gifts of zazen.
My third teacher was Reverend Ito, who brought Rinzai Zen to our area. He was strict in outward ways—white socks, bows, silence—but inside, he taught me the radical lesson of trusting myself. As a Catholic, I was taught to look outside for authority. Reverend Ito challenged me: when I told him I’d sit with a Soto group, he told me never to return. But I did, and he never brought it up again. I realized later he was asking: What do you truly believe? Will you follow instructions blindly, or listen to your own heart?
If we get quiet—quiet enough to hear both the noise and the peace—we can start to hear that deeper voice within. All of us have teachers who shaped us. If you look back, you’ll see the gifts they left with you. Sometimes, it’s simply learning to trust yourself.
Hakone Zendo 