Haemin Sunim's book Love for Imperfect Things (2016, English translation with Deborah Smith in 2018) is gentle and kind, with lovely artwork (by Lisk Feng) and short essays followed by shorter prose-poetic aphorisms. Among the most touching-memorable bits:

... in Chapter 1, "Self-Care"

"Be good to yourself first, then to others."

and

It's okay not to be ranked first, second, or even third. Compare yourself not with others, but with the old you. Like yourself for making an honest effort. And continue to have faith in yourself.

... in Chapter 2, "Family"

If you love someone, rather than doing what you think they need, do what they themselves ask you to do. Though it comes from a good place, doing what you think someone needs can be the seed of wanting to control them, to make them a certain way to please yourself.

and

With a little planning, you can continue to enjoy your life while looking after someone close to you. Sacrificing yourself completely won't be good in the long run, not even for the person you're taking care of. Only if you yourself are reasonably well will you be able to look after someone properly.

and

If you want to help your child, your partner, or your friend, simply listen without offering advice or your own interpretation. And empathize, imagining that you yourself just had that experience. Don't turn away from difficulties, but endure them together. That is how you can be of greatest help.

and

If you give something your full attention, whatever it is, and examine it closely, it will come to attract your interest and care. Just as the face of your child is the most familiar and the loveliest thing in the world, constant attention will turn an ordinary object into an extraordinary one.

... and perhaps most important of all, "the quiet space between thoughts" as described in Chapter 7, "Enlightenment"

As my practice of mindful breathing deepens, the door of wisdom begins to open. People typically equate the mind with thoughts, as if thoughts are the only things there. However, once experiencing the peaceful silence that lies in the gap between one thought and the next, I see how a thought appears from that silence and also disappears into it by itself. Consequently, I don't attach too much importance to each thought but pay more attention to the quiet space in between thoughts. The space of silence then gradually expands, and I begin to feel that even a good thought is not as pleasant as the peaceful silence. Eventually I come to realize that this peaceful silence exists not only inside my body, but outside it as well, as it is impossible to pinpoint precisely where the silence begins and ends. The conceptual division between the self and the world collapses, and I come to realize that the silence is the mind's unshakable true nature as well as the unmanifested ground of the universe before its creation. I finally come to understand the Zen proverb "There is no difference whatsoever among the mind, the world, and the Buddha."

And there are jokes! — e.g., in Chapter 6, "Healing":

"Is it appropriate for a monk to use email?" "Sure, but only if there are no attachments!"

Sweet, thoughtful, and full of goodness!

_{(cf Coming to Our Senses (2009-01-01), Embracing Imperfection (2019-04-13), Tips for NQTs and Everybody Else (2020-06-24), Self-Care Matrix (2020-10-15), ...) - ^z - 2024-02-12}