June Poe: Tenderness Does Not Choose its Own Uses

by Robert Reese

Tenderness does not choose its own uses.
It goes out to everything equally,
circling rabbit and hawk.
Look: in the iron bucket,
a single nail, single ruby—
all the heavens and hells.
They rattle in the heart and make one sound.

Late Prayer, The Lives of the Heart
--- Jane Hirshfield

In recent months I’ve thought of June Poe while attending church. Twice monthly, during the late winter and early spring, I joined Saint Mary’s Episcopal Church in Pacific Grove with a family experiencing some duress who sought spiritual support in Sunday mass.  A grand reddish building, topped with spire and bell tower, Saint Mary’s was erected in 1886 and opened on Annunciation Day by Episcopalian women. For inexplicable reasons, I was asked to attend.  To the family, the fact that I was a Soto Zen priest had no bearing on including me in the service. They may have simply needed another person to feel like church-going. For my part, I enjoyed the aspiration and attention summoned by the liturgy — all the while internally decoding the observance into something more personally familiar and palatable. Still, the long smooth wooden pews, stained glass windows and redwood buildings communicated something vaguely English and distinctly Episcopalian. “Clarity and openness, without confusion and clutter, are necessary for good worship,” states The Church of Common Prayer, a 1994 pamphlet of contemporary Episcopal design guidelines.  The entire focus of this architectural style is on a unifying space connecting the church community and the liturgy.   At the same time, the service resonated with my own Episcopal background and for reasons not entirely clear, reminded me of June Poe and her own spiritual origins. The mass here at St. Mary’s is familiar in the way it makes the least of us philosophical, even if our philosophy is keenly different from the church itself. The hymns and liturgy becomes the shape and center of that particular world. In short, through a kind of half-gainer in logic and timing, the services brought to mind the Church of England, the British Isles and June Poe. 

One virtue of attending church services other than your own is that we can sometimes come to the realization that we don’t know very much and can’t the make the world up from nothing. Most of it is beyond our reach, beyond our summation.  Or, in Buddhist terms, we simply see the sky through the cylinder of our particular beliefs, history, family and education.

I can’t speak to June’s early religious upbringing, but ultimately she appeared religiously pragmatic and in her deepest instincts given to breaking clean with church and country. 

A student of Katherine Thanas, Roshi, June Poe, Renso Jyokun, (Lotus Window, Pure fragrance), took lay initiation (Jukai), on a warm summer evening in 2012.  June studied with Katherine Thanas for a number of years, however Katherine died before the lay ordination process could be completed. She continued her precept studies and practice with me and took Jukai with Susan Rautine on July 17th.

 June’s dharma name, Renso Jyokun, reflects certain characteristics of her life and practice: “Lotus Window” conveys something of June’s personality and nature, her ability rise out of difficulty and pain and use inauspicious conditions to blossom like a lotus in muddy water. The muddy water of difficulty gives rise to the flower.

“Pure Fragrance” is also inherent and characteristic of June’s practice.  The purity suggested here is not one of non-defilement or the personal psychological mind. Rather, “purity” here suggests the interconnection of all dharmas, with nothing left out and existing on its own. From this view, or window, our notions of “pure” and “defiled” remain just that, concepts. At the same time, according to the Abidharma, there are said one hundred and eight defilements, most of which can be removed by practicing the Buddha’s teaching.  The characteristic of “decorum” has often been employed as a corrective to the hindrance of “ill-will.”

“Decorum” has not been a characteristic much admired in the past few years. It seems an attribute from another century. When decorum surfaces we tend to transform into something to be admired from a distance, but not a trait we need bother with. However, decorum is something our grandparents — whether they had it or not—knew all about. On evidence of her own life and relationships, June was a decorous woman—not in a close or oppressive way, but rather, in a light and fragrant way. She had the fragrance of decorum and wore it like a loose garment. This type dignity is a discipline—like practicing patience— a habit of mind that can never be faked but can be trained.

 June was a board member of MBZC for many years and intimately involved in the practice life and development of the center. She created beautifully subtle ink drawings and watercolors for the annual funding letter; attended development meetings and monthly board of directors meetings. Her participation spoke to a deep-seated belief in the ultimate benefit of a Buddhist life and practice, despite its “good for nothing” bravado, she deeply cared and was deeply caring. Her participation also spoke to her underlying decorum and restraint. As we gathered for the Sunday morning board meetings, June would organize herself with a scone and tea, sitting demurely off to the side. She spoke little, mostly offering a kind of calm dignified presence.  I believe she held the rest of us in check some days. If the meeting would digress to quarrel, I would look at June, who always remained constrained and decorous. In her silence, it was as if she was providing us the gift decorum and calm abiding. For my part, it felt a little embarrassed to engage in an argument in front of her. Quarrelling over a budget in front of June always seemed akin to arguing in front of Aubrey Hepburn. June’s practice seemed more of a constant quiet stream rather than a flashing awakening, a slow threading of Buddhist teaching that became no different than her actual life.

Perhaps once a month I stop at the local nursery and walk to the shaded plant area. Here, there are few lotuses at Greggs Nursery, but there are Coral Bells, Astilbe, Foxglove and a variety of ferns. In the cool, enveloping shade, their lush deep green often summons restraint and contemplation. The tenderness of these plants goes out to everything equally, rattling in the heart and making one sound.

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Pink Lotus sora sagano on Unsplash