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Seeds of Resilience

Forged in the Fire of Community

Lee Klinger Lesser

article Trauma and healing

Seeds of Resilience

Published in Volume 26 Issue 3

Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it.
Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.
-Howard Thurman

Tassajara Zen Mountain Center is located deep in the Los Padres National Forest in northern California. The natural hot springs that arise from deep within the earth remain sacred to the Esselen people who have lived in the area for more than six thousand years. Tassajara is a major guardian of these waters that now offer healing and renewal for students and guests seeking the wisdom and understanding offered by meditation, teachings and workshops.

Surrounded by miles of oak, pine, manzanita, and madrone, the Center has been threatened by the increasing wildfires that endanger the area. Wildland firefighters have spent long periods of time working with Zen students to enhance the safety of the Center, cutting back growth, doing small controlled burns, setting up a sprinkler system to create a moisture barrier around the buildings.

Firefighter training photo by Matt C.

Living at Tassajara during their work, these firefighters have witnessed the impact the quiet, deep practice of sitting meditation has on the community and visitors. One year after fire season was over, several of them approached the Zen Center staff and asked if someone there could teach wildland firefighters how to meditate because there was so much suffering in their community. Working intensively in critical situations while trying to maintain a family life has led to many divorces. Seeing colleagues injured or killed in their work or dying by suicide has left many of them with suppressed grief. Being on the cutting edge of climate change and confronting the harm being done by the intensifying wildfires also contribute to grief and discouragement. Being exposed to toxic smoke for long periods of time without protective gear is leading to increasing rates of cancer, cardiovascular issues and premature death. My friend Chris Fortin and I had been working with military veterans facing similar trauma, so we were asked to create and begin leading these retreats.

Buddha statue at Tassajara, Wikimedia

Partnering with several firefighters, we developed what the retreat would offer, bringing in Sensory Awareness practices, guided meditation, dialogue about the impact of firefighting on their lives, including a grief ritual to help them come in touch with what was longing to be felt and released. The firefighters brought in another crucial element. They told us, “You cannot bring a crew of wildland firefighters together and not have them work on the land!” So caring for the land and offering service to whatever Center is hosting the retreat has become a pivotal part of the process. Because the need for this kind of supportive and healing work for firefighters is so great, the program continues to expand to other states and communities.

One year at the annual Tassajara retreat, as part of the work on the land, twenty firefighters were given a monumental task. A foundational Zen Center teacher had recently died, and their assignment was to move a five-hundred-pound stone a quarter mile up a steep, narrow trail with sharp switchbacks to a memorial site where it would be placed alongside stones honoring Suzuki Roshi and other Zen teachers.

A team of firefighters brainstormed for days imagining various possibilities for how to move the rock. Then the day came to put the plan into action. The stone was removed from the creek by a truck with a winch, wrapped to protect it, and strapped to a board with several long boards underneath. That was then attached to a long, thick rope to tow it up the hill.  At the entryway to the trail, we all gathered in a circle around the rock. Excitement grew as one of the leaders in the group explained how they were going to move the stone. They would have to take it slow and figure out as they went along how things would actually work. Everyone was well-aware that this was a precarious undertaking—the stone slipping off the narrow trail and pulling someone down with it was a serious risk.

We stood quietly for a few minutes of silent meditation to focus our minds and bodies before beginning the journey. Just as we were finishing, one of the firefighters shouted out, “We should hug the stone!” After a surprised pause, one after another began stepping up to hug the stone. Suddenly several firefighters rushed over at the same time, piling onto each other as they lay across the stone, laughing as more joined them. Then the work began. It took about five hours to make the journey up the trail. Rotating leaders would take on the task of guiding the process, “This time we are going to do two pulls,” might be the command, then: “Ready? One, two, three—pull!” If the rock stayed on the boards and centered on the trail, they would go on to the next pull forward. They never went more than five pulls before they had to readjust something, moving one incremental, unpredictable change at a time.

Following a few yards behind the team, Chris and I would from time to time ring a mindfulness bell, inviting everyone to pause and connect with breath. Sometimes someone would begin a song and everyone would join in. Even while there were jokes and playfulness aplenty, everyone was very careful and attentive. Although these firefighters were used to working on teams, they later would comment that they were inspired anew by the cooperation, respect, and shared leadership that emerged during this endeavor. They were all flexible, open to changes, responsive when problems arose—in short, they were resilient in response to what each moment called for, and their dynamic teamwork awakened both joy and energy. This was something they said they could all carry with them from the retreat.

A peaceful area at Tessajara

What contributed to that sustained resilience and cooperation in the face of a significant challenge? Author and coach Carole Pemberton describes resilience as the “capacity to remain flexible in our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors when faced by life disruption, or extended periods of pressure, so that we emerge from difficulty stronger, wiser, and more able.”[i] As neuroscience research points out, this capacity for resilience is hardwired into our brains, but like any innate capacity, when we cultivate it, it grows stronger. The retreat had offered these firefighters the opportunity to develop that resilience by inviting them to consciously face the kind of thoughts and fears that may have led their colleagues into depression and collapse. Many of them said they had been able to find the transformation that supported their resiliency because they had been given the space “to grieve, cry, laugh and share open hearts in order to heal.” One of them said, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt safe enough to sit still to meet myself until now,” while another shared that the retreat “has helped me recover from the toll that life experiences and working fire has had on me.” What they were cultivating is what can support any of us as we face challenges in our lives—showing up openly to meet whatever is before us.

While facing their personal challenges that week, and coming together to move a massive rock up the hill, these firefighters were calling on what Linda Graham, author of Bouncing Back: Rewiring Your Brain for Maximum Resilience and Well-Being, calls the five C’s of resilience: Calm, Clarity, Connection, Competence, and Courage.[ii] When they paused along the way to reconnect with breath, they were calming their minds. This helped cultivate the clarity, the insight and clear seeing, that supported them in finding the way forward as they met new challenges, such as getting that mammoth rock around a very sharp curve, using ropes and pulleys and lots of patience. Over and over, they paused and connected with their own bodies, with the natural setting around them, with each other, and with the task they were engaged in.

They listened to each other and honored each other’s competence and the skill that had been developed through their training and experience. And they sustained their courage, knowing that, even though this was a difficult and unfamiliar undertaking, they could accomplish it as each of them showed up fully.  That willingness partly arose from their courage throughout the week together to be open and vulnerable, in themselves and with each other. As one firefighter put it: “There is something profoundly impactful about cracking your heart open with those who have also been forged in the fire.”

As these firefighters well knew, while fire is destructive, it can also lead to new life. The heat from wildfires cracks open the seeds of the pine trees in the forests surrounding Tassajara, leading to renewal and new growth. Likewise, the heat from the “fires” in our lives can help us burn through patterns of constriction, open our hearts and build the resilience that supports our growth and capacity to flourish. This resilience is increasingly important as we are being forged in the fires of these times. When we come together, we strengthen our capacity to meet the challenges that surround us.

Michael Beasley, a retired firefighter who participated in that retreat at Tassajara, pinpointed what lay behind the success of that group together. “It was such a lovely example of what is so special about fire folks. They are task oriented. They love, maybe even crave the belongingness of being part of a team, part of something larger than themselves. . . . They are the helpers, and they seek to serve. . .  to serve the public, to serve the Earth, to serve the mountains, the streams and the sacred groves.” Not only were these firefighters demonstrating their professionalism and heart of service, they had learned during the week together to contribute their personal resilience to the resilience of the whole group. By being open and honest with themselves and each other, they had deepened their trust in the resilience that sustains them in their challenging lives. We plant the seeds of resilience as we recognize and heal what holds us back from life, and we cultivate that resilience by discovering what enlivens us and connects us to each other and the world we live in.

Excerpted from Return to Our Senses: Finding Stability in an Unstable World (Bell Ringer Press, April 2026) Used with permission.

[i] Jeremy Sutton, “What Is Resilience & Why is it Important to Bounce Back?” Positive Psychology, January 3, 2019, https://positivepsychology.com/what-is-resilience/

[ii] Linda Graham, Bouncing Back: Rewiring Your Brain for Maximum Resilience and Well-Being (Novato, New World Library, 2013) vxxvi

Lee Klinger Lesser

About Lee Klinger Lesser

Lee Klinger Lesser is the author of Return to Our Senses: Finding Stability in an Unstable World. Lee teaches the somatic mindfulness practice of Sensory Awareness bilingually in English and Spanish, bringing embodied practices across cultures and languages. Lee began offering programs to military veterans in 2008 and to Wildland Firefighters in 2019, fostering healing and growth through mindfulness, meditation, community dialogue, and nature-based programming.  She is also a mother and grandmother, roles that continue to enrich and expand her life.

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