White Tulip – No 2

Growing up is a journey of learning not to be surprised anymore – by the big or small things life throws at you.
It’s a journey of acceptance, of learning to receive whatever comes your way. Some people live all the way to the finish line without ever truly growing up. And yet, there are lives that seem to mature in spirit even when they’re still young and green.

This past week, I had the chance to spend a few days with three young people just entering the beautiful early years of their twenties. Two of them are American, and the other is Vietnamese who has lived in the U.S. since she was fourteen. I felt incredibly happy – because I got to speak with young people whose inner maturity was simply astonishing. (To be more accurate, it was spiritual maturity – but that word is often misunderstood, so I hesitate to use it.)

One of the American friends had read almost all of Thich Nhat Hanh’s books, and could recite lines of poetry from memory, recalling entire passages with ease. He doesn’t use social media, and yet was able to talk to me – deeply, honestly – about things I often find difficult to share with people my age, or even older. In this realm, age truly is just a number.

During one of our conversations, I told them how grateful I was. Because despite what the media often says about a shallow, detached younger generation, what I saw in front of me was the complete opposite. Even if these three are rare among their peers, it gave me real hope.

My son is a few years younger than them, and he’s still charging into life with all the hunger and desire that youth often brings. A few years ago, for a small school project, he made a vlog reviewing a book – and he chose The Power of Now. I never got to hear what exactly he said about it in the video, but even so, I felt it was a kind of quiet sign, a small beginning.

Maybe not now. Maybe not even within the next ten years. But I believe – deeply – that our children, this younger generation, will come to see life more clearly and touch awakening earlier than we did. Earlier than us, their parents – who grew up in a time of profound societal transformation, when values shifted and changed so rapidly it was hard to hold on to anything for long.

When you’re not caught in survival, not constantly dealing with money, food, and basic needs – maybe the spiritual path opens sooner. Maybe it’s in those quieter spaces that the deeper questions of existence begin to surface.

The white flowers in this painting were made on the day those young friends came to my studio. I carried the resonance of our conversations into these quiet brushstrokes. And perhaps, something of those moments still lingers in the white.