Author Mary Hillebrand On Finding Happiness and Joy During Turbulent Times
An Interview With Jake Frankel
Physiologically, focusing on our breath slows our heartbeat, brings our temperature down, relaxes our muscles, and brings energy to all parts of our body. Without that bodily presence, how can we fully experience anything, including joy?
It sometimes feels like it is so hard to avoid feeling down or depressed these days. Between the sad news coming from world headlines, the impact of the ongoing pandemic, and the constant negative messages popping up on social and traditional media, it sometimes feels like the entire world is pulling you down. What do you do to feel happiness and joy during these troubled and turbulent times?
In this interview series called “Finding Happiness and Joy During Turbulent Times” we are talking to experts, authors, and mental health professionals who share lessons from their research or experience.
As a part of this series, I had the pleasure of interviewing Mary Hillebrand.
Mary has been studying and practicing mindfulness and meditation in the Plum Village tradition of Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh since 2001. She has practiced with mindfulness communities, called “sanghas,” in Washington, DC, and Madison, Wisconsin, and has attended retreats with the Zen master. Formerly a magazine editor and writer, Hillebrand is now a teacher in therapeutic settings for teenagers and adults. She has recently published the book, Tears Become Rain: Stories of Transformation and Healing Inspired by Thích Nhât Hạnh, with co-editor Jeanine Cogan. Learn more at parallax.org/product/tears-become-rain/.
Thank you so much for joining us in this interview series! Before we dive into the main focus of our interview, our readers would love to “get to know you” a bit better. Can you tell us a bit about your childhood backstory?
Sure! I grew up in southern Wisconsin, in a large, loving family. We had lots of outdoor time together, bicycling, hiking, and enjoying the beautiful winters. Family dinner was special, a time for talking about the news of the day and learning how to argue and disagree. My parents were important role models for me, demonstrating compassion for others and curiosity about the world around us, and I feel very grateful for the close, supportive relationships I have with my three siblings and their families.
What or who inspired you to pursue mindfulness? We’d love to hear the story.
My mindfulness journey started at a time of personal turmoil, which I have since discovered is not uncommon, as these are moments when many people are inclined to look around for support or ideas for how to cope with difficulties. Professionally, I was burning out, full of so much stress from my job as a magazine editor that I had slipped into a rather unhealthy lifestyle. To manage my stress, I relied mainly on caffeine, alcohol, and food, turning away from the values I had grown up with, which included healthy consumption, supportive friends, and lots of exercise, fresh air, and connection to nature. At the same time, a long-term romantic relationship was coming to an end, and although that was definitely the right thing for me, I wasn’t the one who chose it. This left me full of questions about my ability to see what was right in front of me, doubts about my own value, and uncertainty about where I was headed.
None of us can achieve success without some help along the way. Was there a particular person who you feel gave you the most help or encouragement to be who you are today? Can you share a story about that?
My brother Eric saw me struggling with these big life changes, but rather than trying to preach to me or tell me what was “right,” as we had experienced growing up in our family’s religious tradition, he said “I’m learning about the nature of suffering, and part of that is that there is a way out.”
This was not long after my romantic relationship had ended, and Eric had flown in from Chicago to be with me. Even before his words hit me, his presence communicated hope. This learning he had embarked on, while looking for help with his own problems, had changed his countenance, his energy, and his language. It was like the way Gary Gach describes Thich Nhat Hanh in “Wandering Along Like A Masterless Samurai,” a story in Tears Become Rain: “Through his calm, sure steps, he was communicating that he was completely present, from scalp to toes.”
Eric listened intently to what I was grappling with, then he explained that suffering is part of our human existence. This was a new concept to me. I had lived my first 31 years thinking the goal of life was to avoid suffering, to get to a place where everything was comfortable and happy and settled and… the ending of a Disney movie, I suppose. I thought that was how my relationship was supposed to feel, and we were just not trying hard enough to achieve it. And my job as a reporter and editor was supposed to look like it does in the movies, where everyone moves so fast and talks so cleverly and juggles all the deadlines and demands without coming apart, so I just needed to work harder to make that happen.
And here comes Eric, telling me that suffering is part of life? Part of me resisted this as giving in or giving up, but I could also see it made a lot of sense. Like the Buddha, who as a young prince left his sheltered life inside his father’s palace and discovered suffering all around him in the world, I knew deep down that suffering is reality. But it doesn’t have to break us. We don’t have to run from it. We have what we need, within us, to be free of the ties that suffering can create to restrict us. We can find joy even in the midst of pain. Eric had demonstrated this over years of fighting his own battles one minute and marveling at the wonders of life in the next.
The path forward did not magically unfold for me from that moment. Rather, all this looking and listening revealed a tension between this new way of thinking, which resonated so powerfully in me, and my deep-seated belief, built all the way from birth, that my religious tradition was where I should be turning for a solution. And that’s where Thich Nhat Hanh came in, where I got my first sample of his wisdom, in a book a friend helped me pick out, called Living Buddha, Living Christ. Here, Thich Nhat Hanh explains that we can identify and tap into the nurturing, helpful parts of our religious tradition while also embracing new ideas and practices. We don’t have to choose one over the other. Choosing is the path to conflict, not to peace.
One of the things I most loved about growing up in the church of my family and my ancestors was being part of a strong community; people showed up for each other in times of celebration and times of struggle. The “parish” was defined by the church, but it was truly created and sustained by the people, even as the church itself issued directives that excluded people and, some years into my adulthood, made me feel like it was no longer my home. However, my understanding of the power of caring for others, that core value of community, remained.
The Buddha teaches that community is an important part of mindful living. When we dig into heavy, painful, difficult problems, a nurturing and supportive community can hold our suffering with us. So that was the obvious next step for me, seeking out a group of people who could support my budding practice of meditation and inquiry. The Washington Mindfulness Community, founded by people who had been learning from Thich Nhat Hanh for decades, provided the space and encouragement I needed.
Can you share the funniest or most interesting mistake that occurred to you on your path of learning? What lesson or take away did you learn from that?
Meditation, a key aspect of mindfulness practice, teaches us to use our breath to slow down and look deeply at what is within us, or what is in front of us. It’s simple, but it’s not easy, because so many thoughts and feelings pass through our consciousness all the time. Even when we’ve established a steady meditation habit, we’re still beginners, which can be easy to forget.
One June morning, when I was 6 months pregnant with my second child, I woke up determined to do something to help around the house, despite the limitations of my growing belly. My wife and I had been working together for a couple of years, project by project, to renovate our condo. It was hands-on work that I really enjoyed. So while she and our baby daughter were having breakfast downstairs, I went from our second floor bedroom up to the rooftop deck to cut some boards for the new floor we were installing.
As I lined up a board lengthwise before the exposed blade of the table saw, I said out loud, “Okay, this is dangerous. Remember to use your mindfulness practice. Breathe in and out, go slowly, pay attention.” I thought I had this mindfulness thing down; I had the super-power and was ready to use it! Ha, such hubris. You know what’s coming, don’t you?
“Breathe in, breathe out,” turn on the table saw, carefully push the board. Keep eyes on the spinning blade. Look down to make sure the board is staying with the guide… Aggghhhh! There goes my guiding thumb, right into the blade. About an hour later, I marveled at how useful mindfulness turned out to be in the busy hospital emergency room. So when the doctor noted how calm I was while she probed, cleaned, and put 18 stitches into the shredded pad of my thumb, I smiled and told her all about Thich Nhat Hanh!
The concept of “beginner’s mind” has popped up over and over for me in my 22 years of practicing mindfulness. When we approach anything in life with the understanding that, even though we’ve done it many times, learned all about it, or given it much deep thought, we’re still new to it in this moment, we’re most open to the insight and joy it brings. I forgot my beginner’s mind when I went up to cut that board. I thought I was both an experienced meditator and a competent table saw operator. What I learned is that a beginner’s mind would have kept me safe, if I’d treated both my breathing and the table saw as if they were brand new and unfamiliar, and thus given them the attention that was truly needed in that moment.
What are some of the most interesting or exciting projects you are working on now? How do you think that might help people?
Releasing our new book, Tears Become Rain, is the most exciting thing in my life right now, especially because it took us four years to bring it to the world. It’s full of stories that continue to resonate with things that are happening in my life or come up in conversation with people around me. These stories about using mindfulness to cope with life’s challenges, some of which are pretty intense, bring a lot of hope and help us see the possibility of joy in so many aspects of our lives.
You are a successful leader. Which three character traits do you think were most instrumental to your success? Can you please share a story or example for each?
My consciousness is far more essential to my happiness than any personal character traits. I have learned to, as Thich Nhat Hanh says, “water the seeds of joy” in myself and others. This is something I can do in the present moment, anytime. A simple example: Exclaiming out loud my delight at seeing a small puffy cloud in a blue sky never gets old, and if others hear me, then I’m watering their seeds of joy, too.
That cloud is impermanent, but it never dies. I know that it still exists in the form of water vapor, or rain, or a puddle, or a stream. I’m “successful,” in your words, when I stay in touch with the freedom that impermanence brings. When I see the cloud, I already know that it’s not going to last in that form, just like I know my loved one, or my relationship, or my job, or my ice cream cone is not going to last in its current form. Remembering this regularly, by expressing my gratitude for that person or thing in the moment, can keep me free from the sorrow of one day losing it. I work towards caring deeply while not being attached. That’s where joy is for me — and it’s how I can be of service to others.
For the benefit of our readers, can you briefly let us know why you are an authority about the topic of finding joy?
I’m not an authority, but I do have a lot of joy. When I come back to the present moment, a smile instantly grows on my face. It might be a small smile, knowing that I’m holding pain at the same time that I’m witnessing the wonders right in front of me. I’ve come back to my breath and smiled many times over the years, so it has become easier to connect with joy as I go along. It’s like any other muscle: the more I use it, the quicker and stronger it becomes. My smile is powerful, and I see its impact on people around me.
When I landed in an emergency room in Northern Wisconsin not long ago, after landing very badly on a downhill ski run, joy was not the first thing on my mind. But from years of practicing “yoga for the face,” as Thich Nhat Hanh calls it, I knew that the physical act of smiling could calm me in the midst of my intense physical pain.
And calming could bring joy, because when I was calm I could see clearly that my two children were okay and were at my side. I could hear the kindness and compassion of the ski patrol, the paramedics, and the hospital staff coming to my aid. I could show my gratitude to all of them for being present with me. Katie Sheen illustrates this beautifully in Tears Become Rain, writing about receiving her cancer diagnosis in the story “Phew! What a wonderful colon I have!” These moments when we’re most stressed or most afraid can also be moments of gratitude and joy, if we’re awake to what’s real in the present moment.
Ok, thank you for all of that. Let’s now shift to the main focus of our interview about finding joy. Even before the pandemic hit, the US was ranked #19 in the World Happiness Report. Can you share a few reasons why you think the ranking is so low, despite all of the privileges and opportunities that we have in the US?
Although we have no concrete assurance that happiness will automatically arrive when we acquire things or achieve an easier lifestyle, we keep grasping for it anyway, and the media and other voices around us keep pushing us in that direction. I think, in part, our country’s self-reported low happiness ratings come from disappointment because we haven’t met those artificial goals. Or sometimes we have in fact grasped those magical things, but we see that as a step that’s now complete, and we believe we must strive and reach for the next rung on the ladder. Our basic needs are met, but we miss this opportunity to appreciate what we have, because our eyes are always on the future.
When we look at what’s right in front of us, we can see that we have what we need in order to be okay. We can choose the criteria for our happiness — we don’t have to accept what’s dictated by those around us. That old Bobby McFerrin song “Don’t worry, be happy,” is spot on; worrying about achieving what we want is a mental exercise based on something we have no control over, the future. In this moment, I have my breath. That means I’m alive. I’m alive! How wonderful!
What are the main myths or misconceptions you’d like to dispel about finding joy and happiness? Can you please share some stories or examples?
Myth: Joy is achieving our goals. (explained above)
Myth: If we’re serious about the big problems in the world, we can’t possibly feel joyful.
My response: As the Buddha put it, suffering is always here, part of life. Indeed, we wouldn’t recognize joy if we didn’t have pain to compare it to. We don’t need to turn away from the big problems to protect our joy, because we learn to take care of ourselves when we meditate and when we ask our community of practice to help us hold our suffering. Doing so, we come to see that we can be okay with not knowing whether we’ll be okay. In that non-attachment, that freedom, we discover joy and maintain the capacity to keep working to end the suffering we’re witnessing.
In a related, but slightly different question, what are the main mistakes you have seen people make when they try to find happiness? Can you please share some stories or examples?
Not noticing what’s right in front of us. And forgetting that we’re all interconnected.
I’m a teacher at a hospital where all of my students are locked up. They can’t move around freely, they don’t go home at the end of the day, most don’t even get to choose their meals. Yet, every day I see patients smiling and laughing, joking with each other, creating art, playing games, learning, and working on themselves. Many of the patients I work with are practicing the skill of focusing on what’s in front of them, and I get to see that and learn from them every day.
They look right at me, with their smiles, so they can enjoy my smile and my laughter, and we can share those moments. It’s the most beautiful feeling, this togetherness.
People often think they can find joy on their own, in devices or in substances or in vigorous exercise or work or creativity, but they forget about the people who are connected to them, even in those solo pursuits. When I walk in the woods, without anyone walking with me, I’m never alone. My parents are there, the last person I walked with is there, the people who created the path before I arrived are there.
Joy is powered by our awareness of interbeing — the understanding that we’re all one, all connected. Community can be built and nurtured in so many different places, and where the struggle is pretty intense, the need for community and the benefit of community is that much stronger.
Can you please share with our readers your “5 things you need to live with more joie de vivre, more joy and happiness in life, particularly during turbulent times?”
Your in breath
Your out breath
Your in breath
Your out breath
Your in breath
(you know what comes next).
Physiologically, focusing on our breath slows our heartbeat, brings our temperature down, relaxes our muscles, and brings energy to all parts of our body. Without that bodily presence, how can we fully experience anything, including joy?
And focusing on our breath means we move our attention away from “turbulent times” as a source of suffering. Turning to our breath doesn’t mean turning away from what’s around us. It means grounding ourselves first, so we can see more clearly, without the haze of anger or fear clouding our vision. We discover our power to engage in solutions by trying to see what others are experiencing.
What can concerned friends, colleagues, and life partners do to effectively help support someone they care about who is feeling down or depressed?
Depression is a real, clinical condition, so I’m not in a position to give advice on how to help someone in that position. It’s important to seek professional help. But I will add that when we work on ourselves and develop our capacity to “be peace,” it does have benefits for those around us. So rather than always thinking we need to do something for our friend, we may need to be instead. Every time we practice meditation as a way to calm ourselves, we’re practicing for others too. We’re building those muscles, or those habits, that enable us to show up peacefully and with our full attention when others need us to.
And remember the power of smiling.
Ok, we are nearly done. You are a person of great influence. If you could inspire a movement that would bring the most amount of good for the greatest number of people, what would that be? You never know what your idea can trigger.
The movement is already happening. With our book Tears Become Rain, Jeanine and I are just helping it continue to flow. It’s a collection of stories about all that I’ve just been describing, happening all over the world, and they’re only a tiny fraction of the ocean of mindfulness that’s out there.
We are very blessed that some of the biggest names in Business, VC funding, Sports, and Entertainment read this column. Is there a person in the world, or in the US, whom you would love to have a private breakfast or lunch with, and why? He or she might just see this, especially if we both tag them.
Even though they are hugely popular, it would be a mistake not to mention that Glennon Doyle and Abby Wambach are doing the same kind of work Jeanine and I are engaged in, helping people realize that “We can do hard things.” So it would be lovely to meet them and share stories.
But I would also be very honored to meet the writer and poet Judith Bowles, who recently evoked from me a shriek of excitement when she expressed her love of Thich Nhat Hanh’s teachings on her daughter Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ “Wiser Than Me” podcast. I already enjoyed the wisdom and humor that Judith brought to Julia’s post-interview analyses, and then in that episode I also discovered she loves walking meditation as much as I do. I think we would have much to talk about, and she will love the first story in our book, Eliza King’s “My Place in the Circle.”
How can our readers further follow your work online?
Parallax press: https://www.parallax.org/product/tears-become-rain/
Instagram: Tears_Become_Rain
Thank you for these really excellent insights, and we greatly appreciate the time you spent with this. We wish you continued success and good health!
Thanks for the opportunity. This was a real treat!
