11.24.2023 Bodhi Leaves   In San Francisco’s Chinatown, 170 years ago, Chinese immigrants established the first Buddhist temple in the United States. Now, Americans of Asian descent are the largest sangha of Buddhists in America. But despite being the oldest and largest Buddhist group in the United States, Asian American voices have been strangely absent in discussions and interpretations of what  “American Buddhism” means. Every month, Lion’s Roar’s new digital publication, Bodhi Leaves, will feature articles and teachings exploring the Asian American Buddhist experience.   While Bodhi Leaves’ content will be solely from an Asian American Buddhist perspective, its themes will be universal. I’ve learned about Buddhism from mostly white Americans. Now I hope that everyone, regardless of race or ethnicity, can gain wisdom from Asian American Buddhists writing with the freedom to be unabashedly ourselves. All are welcome to this party!   We hope Bodhi Leaves will help Asian American Buddhists create space to engage with one another, deepen our practice, and reframe Buddhism in America. To give you a taste of the type of teachings and articles that will be featured in Bodhi Leaves, check out the following three pieces by Chenxing Han, Atia Sattar, and Mushim Ikeda.  In “Searching for Asian American Buddhists,” an excerpt from scholar Chenxing Han’s exquisite book Be the Refuge: Raising the Voices of Asian American Buddhists, she shares how Asian American Buddhists are not only often invisible to the mainstream, but to each other. This insight illuminates the need for a resource like Bodhi Leaves. Bodhi Leaves will regularly feature rich and complex personal stories by Asian American Buddhists. Atia Sattar’s “What Miscarriage Taught Me About Love and Impermanence” is a perfect example of the kind of the work we hope to highlight. Bodhi Leaves will have a specific point of view, but I hope it will help alleviate suffering for all sentient beings. I am reminded of Mushim Ikeda’s teaching, “How to Practice Metta for a Troubled Time.”  Ikeda writes, “May each and every living being without exception live their lives with more joy and ease. And together may we complete the great journey of awakening.” If you’d like to sign up to receive Bodhi Leaves each month, click here.   —Noel Alumit, Associate Editor, Lion’s Roar Searching for Asian American Buddhists Chenxing Han she shares how Asian American Buddhists are not only often invisible to the mainstream, but to each other. After all, as Heather points out, “most of us aren’t really walking around proudly wearing anything that identifies us as Buddhist.” Scholars Duncan Williams and Tomoe Moriya agree. “As long as Buddhists ‘cover’ (using David Yoshino’s term)—for example, by not flaunting monastic robes or shaved heads—their presence in the Americas generally remains invisible to outsiders.” Kei, one of my Shin Buddhist interviewees, relates a personal example of this phenomenon of hiding in plain sight. “I remember being surprised in high school when I found out that a friend of mine since seventh grade was also a Buddhist. It was a moment of, ‘What? Me too!’ as if we’d been keeping some sort of shared secret all those years.” ADVERTISEMENT What Miscarriage Taught Me about Love and Impermanence   Atia Sattar shares her account of the suffering of miscarriage and what it taught her about love, generosity, and impermanence.   To our left, lotus flowers emerge from turquoise waters. “No mud, no lotus,” I thought when I drew them. This Buddhist adage had carried me through the year of losses, pregnancy and eventual birth. Just above, clouds of mist swell from the base of a waterfall. Its dark and wild waters cascade down the top left corner of the page with no crest in sight. The billowing base marks the end of my tumultuous journey. At last, I am at my destination, standing on the shores of a beach with my newly born baby, holding her hand.   How to Practice Metta for a Troubled Time Mushim Patricia Ikeda teaches us how to generate loving-kindness and good will as an antidote to hatred and fear. Illustrations by Tomi Um.   When you practice metta, you kind of work up a ladder. You go from people like family and friends, people it’s easy for you to feel good will toward, to those you don’t know. Then, ascending as you are able to — not forcing anything — you extend wishes for safety, happiness, and peace to those you dislike and those you consider your enemies. Finally, at the ultimate level, you extend your good will to all living beings in the universe. It’s a pretty tall order — although possible for some people — to feel loving and kind toward those who are perpetrators of violence and oppression. Even to feel good will toward them might be difficult. So we can frame this meditation as the cultivation of nonhatred and nonfear in order to become stronger, more stable, and more centered. Then we can move forward in a positive fashion to battle oppression and create some improvement for our communities and the United States overall.   LION’S ROAR PROMOTION