My roots are made of music and I can forgive my white ancestors for their hurtful actions, just like I can forgive myself and others who have had unskillful actions in modern times. Those are two of the biggest takeaways from this year’s Honey Locust Sangha retreat that I attended in Griswold, Iowa from Friday, May 15 - Sunday May 17, 2026. This sangha practices in the Plum Village Tradition founded by Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Zen Buddhist Monk, lovingly called in our tradition “Thay,” meaning “Teacher.”
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Led by Brother Joe Reilly, a musician of Cherokee/Choctaw, Irish and Italian descent and adopted into the Anishinaabe family, which includes Ojibwe, Odawa, and Potawatomi nations. He spoke of how white supremacy cuts off people’s roots and I thought to myself how they cut off their own roots as well. I’ve been struggling for many years with the actions of my ancestors who, as they traveled west in this land, removed indigenous people to settle and build their homes here in Platte Country, Missouri. As a child and young adult, I had been so proud of being linked to this land, but as I started acknowledging how it came to be, I’ve grown more conflicted and confused. I want to honor my roots, but what roots am I really honoring? What is my culture? Mid-west casseroles? “Opes” and knee slaps? I know almost nothing about my French roots, except they were Houganots who ran from persecution. What were their customs and traditions? Were they open hearted, welcoming people? Did they work for justice? If they did, was it only for people who were aligned with their views? I could say the same for every part of my European/caucasian lineage. I know so little.
On my three hour drive north to the retreat, I listened to a part of Thich Nhat Hanh’s audiobook, “Fear.” It happened to be the part about healing the actions of our ancestors. His advice was to offer them the same compassion we would offer to anyone who hurt us today in modern times, knowing that our ancestors didn’t have loving and compassionate teachings of the Dharma to guide them. I came to understand that they were trying to make a home for themselves, no different than any living being trying to create safety and shelter, even though there was a lack of compassion for how much suffering they caused in doing so. Please, as you read this, remember that this teaching came from a brown-skinned Vietnamese man who experienced the direct effects of the Vietnam War. Americans wanted to kill him. His own country eventually ousted him for seemingly being an American sympathizer. He just continued to forgive and help people heal, taking care of his own anger so that he could guide people to take care of theirs. He did this while not making excuses for people’s actions, but by cultivating understanding of it. He didn’t turn away from social issues. He worked peacefully for compassionate justice.
I wrote in my journal very early into the first dharma talk of Br. Joe’s that I was able to hear (arriving a day late) “What are my roots?” He went on to talk about using the courage of our ancestors to examine the dharma, interrupt cycles of abuse and replace them with awareness, love, compassion.
He also spoke of the importance of sharing our songs, freedom songs that were once forbidden in America, especially in the Black and Indigenous communities. At the end of the talk, Sangha Sibling Tina, who I adore and admire, cried as she addressed the sangha, encouraging them to support the artists and music makers of the world because we are the ones who can open hearts and make the dharma accessible. I wept, too, silently in my seat, remembering that I am at least a 5th generation music maker. As she spoke, I wrote in my journal, “MUSIC IS MY ROOTS.”
That same afternoon, some of the sangha siblings gathered outside during our free time and shared songs. Some of them were dharma songs, some songs were originals that we created, even some Grateful Dead, Fiona Apple and a standard jazz tune (I forget the name.) Dear Friends who are reading this, I tell you that it healed my heart so much. It was simple and pure joy to make music for the sake of making music, not in preparation for a performance or to share at some later point in time. It was music in the here and now, the present moment, with people whose hearts and minds were open to sharing and receiving. Ahhhh. Yes! I feel like I am a step closer to finding my way with music again.
Later that night during the evening dharma talk with Br. Joe, he invited us music makers to get our instruments out, and make it a dharma talk created by the full sangha. He began a simple rhythm that we joined in on and passed the microphone to any willing member of the sangha who wanted to share their insight from the retreat, their living dharma experience. After each one spoke, we sang their sentiments back to them, feeding off of each other’s creation. We put ourselves in the river of goodness and let it flow. (That’s a reference to a song on Br. Joe’s newest album that he was inspired to write by one of his mentors, Peggy Ward, who told him that every morning when she swings her feet from the bed to the floor, she puts her feet in the “river of goodness.” You can listen to his song HERE.)
Lastly, an experience with the living dharma I had while on the retreat:
It was a little brownish-gray bird with yellow around her eyes and beak. She was sitting still on the boardwalk. I was surprised when I came upon her, so close. I paused for a moment, watching her, smiled and took a gentle step forward, unsure if she was injured. She quickly flew away and I thought, “Oh! She was inviting me to be still!” I walked on to my dorm. When I came out, mindfully walking to the dining hall, there she was again, this time in the parking lot. So together we stayed still, just being present with each other.
But I was hungry so I walked on... ☺️
I reflect on this and think about how sometimes it’s enough to just be still with our loved ones. It is enough just to be present for them and hold the peaceful space, both for our dear ones physically present with us now and the ancestors we carry with us, be they blood or spiritual.
Kasey Dawn
Monday, May 18, 2026
Parkville Home, Platte County, Missouri
KaseyRausch.com
Creighton University Retreat Center - Griswold, Iowa