*Sensei Michael Brunner and Hoshi Vanessa Roddam were married in Paris on December 17, 2025*

As many of you know, Hoshi Vanessa and I recently took a trip to Paris. While we were there, Vanessa and I were married. She made an honest man of me! The trip was made possible by a generous donor, but the culmination—the event itself—came about through a lot of difficult practice and challenges. As we begin sharing some photos from this trip, I think you’ll notice something magical. We certainly felt the magic when we were there. It’s the kind of magic we often want to manifest in our relationships, in our daily walks, and in our lives. But if you look deeper, there’s a lot more in these photos than meets the eye.

This talk is a difficult one to give because it tends to bring forward things we might prefer to forget. But forgetting puts our practice out of balance. It’s important to keep everything in front of us—the things we call the past and the hopes we call the future—so that we stay grounded.

Many moons ago, as you know, I had an affair. Worse yet, it was with a Sangha member. The pain caused by my actions was tremendous, and not a day goes by that I don’t reflect on it. As those of you who were here at the time know, I faced public condemnation, and Vanessa was in agony. I quickly found myself in a place none of us would want to be.

Our organizational constitution includes clauses to address situations like this when the Abbot takes a misstep. Roshi Diane Martin, now our honorary founder and my teacher, stepped in as a custodial abbot. Her Sangha reached out to support affected members of our community. Some folks stayed and practiced with even greater vigor; some left, and not all found new Dharma homes, which saddens me deeply. At the time, I made a tour of the town, explaining what had happened to other members of the clergy. I visited five houses of worship, sat with other teachers and priests, and went and spoke with civic leaders. I had the same conversation repeatedly, sometimes many times per day, explaining my actions, expressing contrition, and sharing how we intended to practice and work through the situation.

Roshi Diane began an arduous process of psychotherapy with me that spanned hundreds of hours. Together, we examined the events, the beliefs that led to my actions, and the false steps I had taken. She worked with Vanessa in a similar way. There were moments when I wondered if it was hopeless, if it was time to throw in the towel and admit I had strayed too far from the path. Despair and doubt about the Way crept in. Dōgen writes:

“Even at a stage where it would seem that you’ve taken a false step, this condition will be a state of being. Further, should you just leave the matter at this, your condition will still constitute a persistence of the time being, or uji, which will include both a before and after to having taken a false step. Dealing with thoughts and things while they persist is like a fish darting a barbed hook, running freely through the water. It is indeed what being here just for the time being, what being uji, is all about. So do not be upset over what is not; do not be pressured by what is.”

These words remind us that mistakes are not deviations from the path; they are the path itself. Even when we falter, this is part of our practice. When we understand this, our relationship with mistakes transforms. Instead of viewing them through the lens of shame and regret, we can see them as opportunities for growth and awakening by opening the Dharma gate that presents itself. Mistakes are perfect expressions of the moment, ripe for learning and actualization. This isn’t to say we should revel in making mistakes, but rather, each moment offers a new opportunity for awakening. Squandering it would be like squandering your inheritance, as Dōgen says.

It’s not easy to walk through that gate. It won’t take your problems away. In fact, the further you push your problems away, the larger they loom over you. Avoidance gives them power. But when you pull them in closer—so close that you transcend them—you can work with them to transform them. Not with the intention of changing or eliminating them, but by working with them as they are. That’s when the alchemy happens, the magic unfolds, and you find that planting seeds of sorrow can reap a harvest of joy. There’s a case in the Mumonkan called “Joshu’s Wash Your Bowls”:

A monk asked Joshu, “I’ve just entered this monastery. I beg you, Master, give me instruction.” Joshu asked, “Have you eaten your rice gruel yet?” The monk replied, “Yes, I have.” Joshu then said, “Then wash your bowls.” At this, the monk attained some realization.

It seems so simple, doesn’t it? But this is the magic! There’s a backstory to this case that we often overlook–we think of the monk as someone who simply finds himself in the monastery, but there’s so much more. To knock on the temple gate in medieval Japan meant being turned away, sometimes many times. The monk had to prove his ardor to be admitted. When the gate finally opened, he was placed in a tiny room, fed one meal a day, and monitored closely. Falling short meant being sent away again.

When the monk was finally admitted to the practice community, his training began with the forms: how to sit, eat, sleep, even how to wipe his tail. Everything was prescribed. Yet, believing himself ordained to seek something greater, something beyond the mundane, he confronted Joshu and broke all protocol. In the silence of the dining hall, he asked for instruction. Joshu’s response was simple but profound: “Have you eaten? Then wash your bowls.”

Mumon’s commentary sums it up beautifully: “Joshu, in opening his mouth, showed his gallbladder, revealed his heart and liver. He cut right to the heart of the matter. There was nothing hidden from this monk. Yet, if the monk had not grasped the teaching, he would have mistaken a bell for a pot.” Isn’t that what we often do? We mistake challenges for obstacles, not seeing the opportunities for awakening they present.

When you look at the pictures of Paris, you might see the beauty and charm of the streets, but I hope you also see everything that is there. See the immense care of Roshi Diane, who stepped forward with such grace and compassion during a time of turmoil. See the incredible strength and determination of Vanessa, who faced unimaginable pain with unwavering love and resilience. See the devotion of this Sangha, who chose to remain and practice through difficulty, transforming hardship into an opportunity for growth and healing. See a human being—this humble Zen teacher—deeply moved by the compassionate Way that emerged through suffering. These moments didn’t lead me around the challenges but brought me directly through them. It was in this process of facing everything fully that the situation was transformed, and I was transformed alongside it.

As we share these pictures, let them be reminders of how practice unfolds in our lives: not in avoiding the messiness of life, but in stepping fully into it. Through this, we find that even the deepest sorrows can bloom into profound joy, compassion, and wisdom. And in that, it transforms us.

Thank you all for being a part of this journey. Each one of us, as we practice together, will falter at times. If we don’t see one another falter, we are not practicing well as Sangha. To see these moments is to witness the Dharma gates that open for each of us, and through them, we find our true purpose. But if we see these moments as Dharma gates, opportunities for awakening, then we will find our true purpose and manifest the compassion and medicine this world so desperately needs.