Quan Am Practice 

Taking Refuge and Setting Intentions 

Taking refuge and setting the intention for realizing bodhicitta is something that is strongly recommended and suggested before engaging in any practice. Bodhicitta serves to counteract the tendency we have of trying to get something from our practice—whether it’s some form of personal gain or emotional benefit. This is something worth reflecting on, especially as we begin any form of spiritual practice. If we constantly remind ourselves of the purpose of taking refuge, it provides a grounding force. It’s something that everyone must figure out for themselves.

Our understanding of what we take refuge in can change over time. At this moment, you may be taking refuge in something mundane, such as watching Netflix, or something seemingly benign. However, refuge, at its core, is about calling on and resting into something that holds and supports us. It’s about bringing our awareness and attention to the heart area, to the heart-mind, and opening ourselves to the possibility that even if we’re having a difficult day or feel disconnected, even if we’re merely going through the motions, the effort we make in practicing might still benefit some being—whether it’s a family member, a friend, or even your pet, like a dog or cat. This is the essence of refuge.

The following is an example of a refuge prayer, but feel free to recite whatever is meaningful to you.

“With a wish for all beings to be free—free of the contraction and constriction of held thought patterns and belief systems. Free of the automatic reactivity of learned and held emotional patterns, and free of distorted perception. I will always go for refuge to alive, vibrant, radiant, spacious awareness until awareness is ongoing, like the flow of a river, enthused by wisdom and compassion. Today, in the presence of all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, of any lineage, or none at all, I generate the mind of full awakening for the benefit of all beings. As long as space remains, as long as beings remain, may I manifest in such a way to ease and dispel the miseries in the universe.”

Commentary on Refuge and Bodhicitta

Now, in my practice, I often envision a beautiful form of Quan Am, although sometimes it is not exactly her. Sometimes it may manifest more as Tara, or even Cundi—the mother of seven million Buddhas. Whether we visualize a male form or female form isn’t important. What is more important is that who we envision is the embodiment of compassion, beyond the usual dualistic thinking of male and female.

In traditional practice, the teachings emphasize how everything in our lives is fluid and transient. In the midst of feeling overwhelmed by life’s challenges—when everything seemed to collapse and we may feel a sense of despair—we may find that, despite all the chaos, we are able to experience a profound sense of open-hearted connectedness. This is wonderful, because so often, we think that when we practice, we must experience warmth and connection all the time. We think the goal is to always feel that sense of open-heartedness and peace, to stay in that feeling.

However, life doesn’t always give us that. There will be times when things don’t feel right. There will be moments of pain, emotional suffering, or deep mental anguish. It’s during these times that I often try to hold on to that sense of peace or openness, but it becomes elusive when I try to force it. The reality is that this practice teaches us how to remain present in the messiness of life. It’s not about forcing ourselves into feeling a certain way or chasing after something fleeting. It’s about staying present and resting in openness—even when the experience is not what we expected.

Even when everything feels like a disaster, and we are overwhelmed with discomfort, we can still find presence and awareness. This presence doesn’t eliminate the pain or suffering, but it provides a wider container for us to be with it. It shows us that there is openness even in the midst of suffering. Over time, the intensity of suffering may lessen, but the goal is not to eliminate suffering altogether. The goal is to experience life fully, with all of its ups and downs, and to learn how to stay with that.

We often begin our practices by recalling a time when we felt a sense of complete open-heartedness—perhaps when we saw a baby, a puppy, a kitten, or a breathtaking sunset after a long hike. These moments of connection are beautiful, but often, we get attached to them, thinking that the key to happiness lies in finding those moments again.

But Bodhicitta, at its core, is not about feeling compassion in the conventional way. It’s not just about caring for others in the way that we typically define it. It’s about understanding the interconnectedness of all beings. We often search for something outside ourselves to fill a perceived emptiness, whether it’s through external experiences or relationships. But Bodhicitta teaches us that the love and connection we seek are not found in external objects. They are present within us right here and right now.

This is a hard truth for many of us to face. We crave love, and we often look for it in relationships—whether it’s romantic love, love from our children, love from our friends, or love from our family members. These attachments can give us temporary glimpses of the open-heartedness we desire, but they are not the ultimate answer. These attachments don’t satisfy us in the way we hope they will.

When we connect with Bodhicitta, we begin to realize that the interconnectedness and open-heartedness we crave are not somewhere “out there.” They are right here, inside us. They are always present.

There’s a lot of anger, fear, and confusion in the world today. But let’s not fool ourselves into thinking that this is something new. These emotions have always been present in varying degrees throughout history. Sometimes they are more pronounced; sometimes they are less so. However, when we experience anger or fear—especially in the current global climate—our best response is to remain present with these emotions. We can sit with them, allowing them to be, rather than running away or trying to escape from them.

When you are feeling anger or fear, feel free to call on the presence of Quan Am or any other being you resonate with. There are countless beings—whether they are realized bodhisattvas or teachers—who are tirelessly working to alleviate the suffering in this world. They have been offering their compassion, wisdom, and presence for lifetimes. But we must also recognize that anger, fear, and suffering are part of the human experience. They are not something to shy away from.

When we rest in the understanding that all beings are interconnected, we begin to see that we are not isolated in our suffering. Even in moments of fear, there is the potential for aliveness and richness. These moments, though difficult, can serve as opportunities for us to recognize the vastness of our experience. We do not wish this experience on anyone, but we do recognize that, in these intense moments, there is a fullness of life that we might otherwise miss.

For the Quan Am practice, our wish for us is to open ourselves to the rays of loving compassion from all Buddhas and bodhisattvas. May they touch all beings, especially those who are suffering. And may we remember to offer this practice of compassion again and again, knowing that we are not separate from each other. We are all in this together, and we are connected in our shared humanity.

It’s natural for us to try to protect ourselves with anger, fear, and other reactive emotions. These reactions are often ways to shield ourselves from perceived harm. However, these emotional defenses don’t help us connect with others. What we can do instead is allow ourselves to rest in the open-heartedness that is always present, even when emotions like anger and fear arise. We don’t need to push them away; we simply allow them to be, without identifying with them.

In doing so, we open ourselves to the wisdom that naturally arises when we let go of control and surrender to the present moment. Wisdom isn’t about analyzing or figuring things out. It’s about recognizing the open spaciousness of the heart and mind, where all things arise and pass away.

When we acknowledge that we cannot control everything in life, we begin to free ourselves from the burden of trying to hold on to things. We stop clinging to fixed outcomes and instead allow the natural flow of life to guide us. This doesn’t mean we give up on our intentions or goals, but we cease trying to control every detail.

It is a challenging process, but there is tenderness in it. When we stop struggling against the uncontrollable aspects of life, we create space for something new to emerge. This is not about surrendering to defeat; it’s about releasing the need to control everything. In doing so, we make room for a deeper, more expansive wisdom to arise.

We all have a natural desire for certainty and control, but life is inherently uncertain. Yet, if we can rest in that uncertainty, we allow ourselves to be open to the wisdom that comes from simply being present with whatever arises.

The Main Practice: The Visualization

To start, we will visualize, feel, or sense a lotus of a thousand petals in that heart chakra. The lotus of the heart. From our experience of having been hurt, it is usually fairly held, a bit closed—maybe a lot closed. And we feed and nourish this lotus, our heart, with this warm wave, which allows our heart lotus to open into its natural state—out of the muck, the mud, the swampy goop where the lotus originates. From comes the total open beauty of a lotus where nothing sticks to it, and water just beats and runs off.

As our heart lotus opens, that symbol of heart, we see inside, six petals of different colors of the rainbow. There are many traditional descriptions of what these represent. If you choose to follow a yidam practice fully in the more ancient traditional manner, it’s important to learn the symbols, what they represent, the whole thing. But it is like learning another language, so we have to have some patience with it. If you aren’t drawn to do that, this is a fairly simple practice. The traditional method will bring you to that fullness, and the simplified method of how we describe it here may be more meaningful to you to taste the essence of what’s being pointed at. But we don’t have to get into a deep level of detail and complexity. We especially don’t want to get lost or overwhelmed in the complexity of the practice.

So we’ll mix a little bit. We will keep it very simple. We have the six inner petals of different colors, perhaps representing the six realms, perhaps representing all life. We start to say the mantra, which is simply the sound, sound symbol of open-hearted, open-minded, spacious love.

The mantra is:

Om Mani Padme Hum

It is suggested that you continue to say this mantra with a mala if you want, moving one bead for each time you say the mantra. It is said that that will hold this energy. When you need it, you could reach for your mala and be reminded of this essence. If you are a sound person feeling the vibration of the sound in your body. You can use your hand on your chest and feel the vibration of the sound.

You can hear the sound. Is it inside or outside? Impossible to tell. And as we say the mantra, the six petals of light start to spin clockwise. You can say it at any rate that’s comfortable in this moment.

As those six colors, which represent all life, all colors, start to spin, they start to blend together. This happens organically. When all light blends together, it becomes white—not a stark white, like a spotlight, but a warm light, sparkly, alive, a wave of light. Not static in any way, moving. And as that light fills those six petals, they extend into rays of that light—rays that, for me, carry the sound and vibration of the mantra.

This light fills the lotus, all thousand petals, until there are a thousand rays of light, luminous, vibrant, radiant, radiating out into the universe, touching a thousand beings. Allowing their hearts, their lotus to relax and open into its natural essence. And again, those petals extend into rays of light. Now there are a thousand thousand rays of light, don’t think the math is accurate. We’ll stay with the essence. A thousand thousand rays of light touching a thousand thousand beings, some of those rays coming back and filling your lotus, your heart again and again.

Not with the personality of the beings, but with the actual essence of interconnected Bodhicitta. There are no limits to these rays. They are not limited in time. They can reach into the past, through the present, into the future, into imaginary time. There is no limit in space. As far as your imagination, your creativity, if you will, reaches. These rays of light reach to the edge of the universe, into the multiverse. There’s no limit on the life forms that the rays can touch.

Inside, touching every cell in your body—micro scale, what we perceive as inside. Outside, perhaps touching a being so large that we cannot perceive it. Rays can touch insects and whales and trees, ants, worms—whatever you can imagine, those rays can touch. As they touch again and again, and we are touched again and again, those rays expand, so that a thousand thousand rays are touching a thousand thousand beings, allowing their heart lotus to relax and open, until there are a thousand thousand thousand rays of light coming out of each of their hearts, touching a thousand thousand thousand beings.

And onward, touching all beings in the six realms.

With no limit, you continue radiating outwards, for the benefit of others—Bodhicitta, for the awakening of all beings. The light of your heart, the essence of love and compassion, extends infinitely, dissolving any barriers or separations that may have existed. You are no longer just a separate being; you are part of a vast, interconnected web of life. As the rays of light touch each being, they awaken to their own potential for love, compassion, and wisdom.

In this moment, you are not only offering healing and love to others, but also to yourself. The energy you send out, the compassion you generate, reflects back to you in the form of peace, joy, and a sense of connection to all beings. You are no longer bound by the limitations of the self. The boundaries of “I” and “other” blur, and you realize that the well-being of others is intimately tied to your own.

As these rays of light continue to expand, they touch beings in realms you may not even be aware of. They heal wounds, ease suffering, and offer the potential for awakening. This radiant, boundless love flows freely, without attachment, without judgment, touching each being exactly where they are, as they are, offering them the possibility of liberation from their suffering.

Allow yourself to feel the vastness of this practice, knowing that with every breath, with every moment, you are contributing to the welfare and awakening of all beings. Let the warmth of your heart fill you, knowing that you are participating in the grand and timeless flow of compassion and wisdom that transcends individual lives and connects all of existence.

Feel the radiance and openness of your heart expanding further and further, and rest in this boundless love and compassion, knowing that it is always available to you. As you continue to practice, remember that you are both the light and the receiver of the light. There is no distinction, no separation, only the continuous, loving, and compassionate flow of the universe moving through you.

As it is said in the gatha of our lineage transmission by our Grand-Father teacher Zen Master Chân Thật, “the lamp of our mind shines light on its own nature”

And so, with every moment, with every breath, may your heart remain open, and may you continue to radiate love, compassion, and wisdom to all beings, forever and always.

Commentary on the Main Practice

It is always wonderful to come together as a community to practice. When we practice collectively, there is a certain arising that occurs, a shared energy. However, if you have not yet cultivated this practice on your own, I encourage you to explore it at your own pace. Even if you practice for just fifteen minutes, which may prove challenging because we often get caught up in the experience, even a brief moment can bring great benefit. There is no need to impose strict time constraints on yourself—this practice is about the quality of your connection rather than the quantity of time spent.

If you choose to practice independently, you have the freedom to control the time and space of your practice. You are in charge of when and where you rest, which aspects of the practice you focus on, and how deeply you engage. On some days, you may feel drawn to rest in one particular aspect, but remember, no single aspect defines the whole practice. If you have not practiced yet, and you choose to try it now, you may wish to do so when your heart feels particularly open. Perhaps there is a specific memory or experience that evokes warmth or openness. It could be a memory of hiking in nature, being with loved ones, or even an experience that arises spontaneously, with no obvious external cause. This open-heartedness can arise out of nowhere, and it is not always something you can hold onto.

Once you connect with that feeling of warmth and open-heartedness, you can proceed with the full visualization. However, you don’t have to do a full visualization if you don’t wish to. The essence of the practice lies in the experience itself, not in the specific details. Sometimes the visualizations and instructions can help bring us into that state, but don’t get caught up in them if it feels burdensome. The mantra is a key element of this practice, as it carries the sound of open-heartedness. The sound itself is like the energy of compassion and wisdom, which is always present but often hidden beneath the surface.

If you are drawn to the mantra, allow it to guide you. You don’t have to force anything. Simply let the sound of the mantra carry you into that open-hearted, compassionate state. When you speak or chant the mantra, it vibrates through your body, creating a sense of connection. The rays of light that you visualize or feel in the practice are not just about imagery; they are expressions of your open-heartedness. They carry the essence of your compassion and wisdom, and they radiate outward, touching others, bringing light and energy into the world.

The rays of light are not limited in where they can reach—they can extend as far as the imagination can conceive. These rays of light carry with them the vibration of the mantra, as well as the quality of open-heartedness. It’s important to recognize that these rays, these sounds, and these vibrations are alive. They are not static; they move and expand freely. The light that you send out is not limited by time, space, or any material boundary. It moves beyond physical limits, traveling through the universe, touching countless beings in all directions, reaching both within and beyond yourself.

There may be days when you wish to focus on the suffering of others, perhaps of soldiers in battle or those affected by violence or hardship. These rays of light can be directed towards them, to help ease their suffering. But you can also choose to broaden your focus, sending rays to all beings, indiscriminately. It’s not about counting or measuring; it’s about sending that open-hearted energy without restriction, allowing it to flow to anyone in need, at any time. Every being, every form, has within it the essence of the dharmakaya—the ultimate nature of reality—and the sambhogakaya, the embodiment of compassion. These rays you send out touch that essence, helping to open the hearts of all beings, allowing them to experience a moment of freedom from suffering.

As you allow these rays of light and sound to touch others, you may experience a shift in your own awareness. You may notice that the sense of separation between you and other beings begins to dissolve. You might find that the idea of “you” and “them” is not as fixed as you once thought. In this practice, the distinction between self and other starts to blur, and the realization arises that we are all interconnected, all part of the same network of energy and light. This understanding can feel like a deep and expansive web of interconnectedness, where every node or point of intersection represents a being, a moment, an experience. You are part of this web, just as all beings are part of it.

As you continue the practice, you can visualize all the rays of light connecting with each other, creating an intricate web of light, sound, and vibration. This web represents the unity of all beings. In moments of deep practice, you may feel that you are not separate from the web, but rather that you are the web itself, and that all beings are interconnected through this shared essence.

Traditionally, when practicing this, one might choose to either bring all the rays of light and sound back into the center of one’s heart, represented by a seed syllable, or simply rest in the awareness of spaciousness. There is no “right” or “wrong” way to do this. The key is to let go of attachment to specific experiences or outcomes and to rest in the open, expansive awareness that is always present, even when we are not consciously aware of it.

This is a practice that can help us relax into the natural expansiveness and interconnectedness of the universe. When we let go of the habitual patterns of thought and emotion that constrict us, we can rest in the natural flow of awareness, which is limitless and unbounded. It is this open, radiant, alive awareness that connects us to everything and everyone. And when we begin to rest in this awareness, we start to recognize that we are not separate from the universe but are an integral part of it.

The opening practice of taking refuge is also not about trying to “grasp” something, but rather about learning to relax into the openness that is always there. It is about letting go of the tendency to protect ourselves, the tendency to grasp for safety or comfort, and allowing ourselves to rest in the natural expansiveness of awareness. When we release this need to control or possess, we discover that we are already connected to the refuge that we seek. This refuge is not separate from us, and it is always present, even when we forget it.

As we continue this practice, we learn to let go of the need to hold on to any particular experience or understanding. This is a journey of continually relaxing into the open-hearted awareness that transcends all boundaries, all dualities. It is the awareness that permeates all things, allowing us to rest in the unchanging, always-present refuge. When we remember this, we experience a deep sense of peace and connection with all beings.

In the end, the practice is about recognizing that the essence of all beings is the same. The open-hearted awareness that you are sending out to others is also within you, and through this realization, you can begin to let go of the habitual patterns that limit your experience of the world. You are the awareness, the light, and the interconnectedness that you seek. In the words of a traditional teaching: “Enlightenment is when a wave recognizes itself as water.” You are that wave, and you are also the water.

As we end our practice session, we dedicate the merit of our practice. This means that whatever has arisen in this shared moment of practice, whatever energy or awareness has been cultivated, may it radiate out into the world, touching all beings, bringing them moments of freedom from the confusion of attachment and suffering. May we continue to walk together on this path, ever grateful for the opportunity to practice and to share this journey. May we all continue to open our hearts and minds in the coming days.