IMS at 50 Reflections
For 50 years, IMS has been a place of practice, refuge, and transformation. We invited our community to share what this place has meant in their lives.
We’re grateful to all who shared.
nakawe cuebas berrios
Congratulations on the 50th anniversary!
Words cannot express my heartfelt appreciation for all that IMS has given me through its retreats, teachers, and staff—and most of all, for the love and support I receive when I am there.
Over the last 20 years in relationship with IMS, my spiritual growth in the Dhamma has deepened, shaping not only my meditation practice but also how I move through the world—with greater intimacy, authenticity, and compassion.
May IMS continue to spread the blessings of the Dhamma, near and far, in service to the liberation of all beings.
Amita Schmidt
IMS is the first place in my life I felt safe. The people, the practice, and the pond (Gaston) helped repair what was broken in me, and brought me back to the world as a whole person. Even though I live far away now, it will always be my true refuge.
Staff retreats at IMS were a sacred time just for us. One year, a staff member’s “talk” was simply to read, slowly and aloud, the names of the 400 people who had served on staff from the beginning through 2002—one drumbeat for each name. Listening, I realized I belonged—to a lineage of people from all over the world who had helped make IMS a place of refuge.
Barbara Templeton, LMFT
Insight Meditation Society has been a place where I’ve come home to something quiet and steady in myself. Over the years, it has offered not just teachings, but a felt experience of being held in a field of practice, something both deeply personal and shared. Again and again, I’ve returned to that simplicity: sitting, breathing, beginning again.
I came to the Forest Refuge twice, and one of those times was just after both of my parents died within two weeks of each other. I arrived in the midst of grief, and what I found there was not a way out of it, but a way to be with it. The woods, the deep silence, and the physical space, so reminiscent of my time in Thailand, created a container where something in me could soften. It was not dramatic, but something essential shifted and grief became something I could meet rather than something that would overwhelm me.
What has stayed with me is how the teachings continue to live in ordinary moments, in loss, in uncertainty, and in the quiet unfolding of life as it is. IMS has shaped not only how I practice, but how I listen, how I accompany others, and how I understand suffering and its easing. I plan to return again in my 70th year, trusting that the path will continue to unfold.
Erik Knud-Hansen
I have so many wonderful memories: first meeting Joseph Goldstein, Jack Kornfield, and Sharon Salzberg in Boulder on the way to Bucksport, Maine, for the inaugural three-month retreat—preceded by three weeks with Robert Hover, my first Vipassana teacher. The time in Bucksport felt like the beginning of something new and significant in the U.S.
I remember when Chaitanya borrowed my small Datsun pickup camper to drive down to Barre with the other founders to look at a possible new facility—and a deal was made.
I also remember driving into Barre that March for our opening self-retreat. There was a lot of snow, and we all hoped the old oil burners would hold. The radiators became our original mindfulness bells, clanging loudly whenever the heat came on.
For many years—whether on staff at IMS or living on the West Coast—I could not imagine not participating in the now annual three-month retreat.
Among the many gifts IMS offered was the opportunity to meet great Asian teachers. It was there that I first met the Korean master Ku San Sunim, with whom I later ordained and spent a year in Korea until his death in 1983.
I was honored to be invited to teach, first by Ruth Denison, and later by Christopher Titmuss and Vimalo. This has been one of the great joys of my life, and I’m not sure any of it would have unfolded this way without IMS and the community that grew around it.
I could share much more, but I’ll leave it here. I am eternally grateful for the support, insight, and spiritual friendships I found there. Though I now live far away in Hawai‘i and travel less, IMS remains in my heart, evoking deep gratitude and appreciation.
May you all be peaceful and happy. 🙏🙏🙏
Larry C
When I think about my time in the Intentional Practice Program here at IMS, one moment in particular always comes to mind. It was early one morning before a retreat began, and I was helping prepare the dining hall. The sun was just starting to spill in through the windows, the kitchen was alive with quiet movement, and there was this feeling—almost like a gentle hum—that we were getting ready for something deeply important. That morning reminded me of why I’m here.
Yes, we were making oatmeal and laying out breakfast, but beneath those simple tasks was the heart of our work: service to the greater good. We are creating a space where people can set down their burdens, reconnect with themselves, and find a bit of peace in this noisy world. Over time, I’ve come to see how every role here—whether it’s cooking, cleaning, fixing something that’s broken, or offering a kind word to someone who looks lost—plays a part in making that transformation possible. Behind every serene moment a yogi experiences is a web of effort, care, and intention from each of us. What moves me most is how this service changes us as much as it supports others. I’ve learned patience in the middle of a busy day, humility in doing work that no one will notice but everyone will feel, and a quiet joy in knowing my actions ripple out further than I can see.
Serving here is not just a job—it’s a calling. Our work is more than a checklist of tasks; it’s about showing up fully, with an open heart, for the benefit of others. And in doing so, we become part of something larger, something that connects us to every person who walks through these doors.
Through the IPP initiative, I’ve been able to combine deep Dhamma study with meaningful service, supported by a resident teacher. It’s been a powerful container for growth, and I hope it continues to welcome others ready to step into its transformative embrace.
Amy H. Shapiro
A poem I wrote two retreats ago.
On Retreat
On my morning walk
I watched the moon set
Almost full
As it sank below the horizon in the wet mist.
If I am the moon
Who was it who saw the moonset?
Peter D.
I have only attended three in-person retreats, but at each one, when I was overwhelmed with grief, I found Retreat Support (especially Monica) to be an indispensable source of care. It offered a space to release tears and be heard before returning to noble silence.
Bhikkhu Vivekānanda
My heartfelt congratulations to the founders and the entire IMS community on this milestone. For decades, IMS has touched the hearts of many meditators, and may it continue to do so for decades to come.
Through its many programs, may IMS continue to contribute to peace and harmony in society. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to teach mindfulness retreats at the Forest Refuge, in such a beautiful and natural setting.
Sending kind wishes to all at IMS.
Mitch Davidowitz
It is a heartfelt pleasure to share these reflections. I came to IMS in 1976, at age 22, to attend the first three-month retreat with Jack Kornfield, Joseph Goldstein, and Sharon Salzberg. There were 30 of us. While I had attended several courses beginning in 1974, including a one-month retreat, this was an enormous commitment.
Whenever I think about the Center, I am brought back to a deep sense of spiritual home. I returned many times after that initial retreat to sit with a variety of teachers, though Jack, Joseph, or Sharon were always there. I felt deeply held by the love of the staff.
The seeds of stillness, wisdom, presence, courage, and love planted in 1976 continue to grow within me, touching every aspect of my life. That three-month retreat profoundly deepened my practice.
In 1982, I had the opportunity to join the staff, working in the office—a great privilege, and a chance to serve yogis with the same care I had received. At that time, the three-month retreat ended with an “integration week,” helping students slowly return to talking and connecting. This included “Dharma Follies,” where some of us performed music or comedy. One year I served as MC; the next, I performed as a mobster struggling with anger issues on retreat—a joyful spoof on everything from staff life to the teachers.
I am deeply grateful for IMS and the countless ways I have been able to encounter the Buddha’s teachings there. Surrounded by such extraordinary teachers, staff, and conditions, I felt profoundly supported in my efforts to awaken. Over these past 50 years, my time at IMS has allowed me to directly experience Thich Nhat Hanh’s teaching: “Walk as if you are kissing the ground with your feet.”
My time at the Center has been among the most transformative experiences of my life.
Thank you.
Issiah Toner
I wasn’t a spiritual person at all, but I was seeking true fulfillment and contentment. That search led to an examination of the self. The most beautiful shift came when identity moved from the conceptual mind to awareness. So much of my orientation to life changed afterward. I felt I had found my way home, though the habitual pull to identify with the mind was still confusing and painful.
It was the desire to be free that led me to meditation practice, and, in a kind of mystical unfolding, to retreats at IMS. Along with meditation came the dharma and a community of deeply sincere people to practice with. The wisdom there has been, for me, like a lighthouse, guiding me back home and helping me make the most of this life.
It helps me see more clearly, to learn and grow, and to be a bridge for loving awareness to find its way into the world through human being.
I am so grateful for the sangha and these teachings. IMS has become my spiritual home.
Jared Fuller
Over the past few years, IMS—through its online teachings, podcasts, and retreats—has become a steady source of guidance for me. The onsite retreats, in particular, have brought a quiet kind of awakening that stays with me afterward. Nothing dramatic or sudden, something subtler, and more meaningful.
That is, until my last retreat.
I left over Labor Day weekend feeling calm and open, but by the next day back at work, the feeling had already faded into the usual busyness. That evening, I remembered I had a company softball playoff game and felt a familiar resistance—more noise, more time away from home.
But something shifted as soon as I stepped onto the field. Being outside again, away from my phone and computer, brought the retreat back. I had spent much of that weekend doing walking meditation on the front lawn at IMS, back and forth through the grass. Out in left field, I felt that same connection return.
I dropped into a state of flow—no effort, no thought, just presence—that lasted the entire game.
I’m no Babe Ruth, and this is a slow-pitch beer league. But I hit two home runs and went three for four. It all felt effortless. There was no screen of thought between me and the swing. The ball was pitched, the bat moved.
In the final inning, with the bases loaded and our team ahead by a couple of runs, a hard line drive came out to left-center. I moved toward it without thinking. The light was fading at ground level, but the sky still held a soft blue. Everything felt aligned—the path of the ball, my movement, the moment itself. At the fence, I reached up and caught it. We won the game.
I’ve heard Joseph Goldstein speak about the root of the word dukkha—often translated as “suffering,” but originally referring to a wheel that’s off-center. What I felt that night was the opposite: everything on kilter. A sense of ease, of things moving as they should.
In a life where the effects of practice aren’t always so visible, it was a simple, unexpected reminder.
Danielle Lévi Alvarès
After a 2010 retreat with Joseph, I wrote this short poem on the power of metta practice.
Heart dry like
The Sahara desert
Two tears of compassion
For you, sister
For me.
Moist heart feels like
The Nile Delta
After the rain
Fertile, ready for life.
Jesse Williams
I love IMS.
I love the trails in the woods, and the whole meal ritual.
I attended my first “Freedom and Ease of Being” LGBTQIA+ retreat a dozen years ago. IMS was the safest place to be evolving. I could just be me, without worrying about being defined or clocked—by anyone else, or even by myself.
I brought some thrifted clothing to see how it fit.
Was I having too much fun at a retreat?
I thought not.
I sat in the front row. At the end of the retreat, the person sitting behind me said it had been interesting to see what I wore, and whether I changed between sittings. It became a friendly thread in her retreat experience.
It felt good to be calm in the company of a mutually welcoming sangha.
Gender identity?
Relaxed about it.
Ayya Santacitta
Fifty years of IMS—what an amazing accomplishment. IMS has been at the forefront of bringing the Dharma to the West, and I deeply appreciate the great benefit this has brought to many practitioners, far and wide.
The steady refuge and support IMS offers has also been of great benefit to me personally. When I moved to the U.S. in 2009, IMS was the first retreat center to invite me to teach. This was very empowering for me as a new teacher, and a precious opportunity to make connections beyond the monastic scene.
Since then, much has unfolded, and I have returned to IMS many times—always with a happy heart and a sense of coming home. Thank you for all that you are and do for sentient beings in this fractured world. The Dharma is made for these times, and we need places like IMS now more than ever.
Anna McGregor
In 2016, I sat my second Three-Month Retreat. I had been on staff at IMS from 2013 to 2015, and before my retreat began, registrar Christine Marshall asked if I would be willing to serve food to a fellow yogi who would be sitting Part 2 that year. He was a visually impaired gentleman from Germany who would need someone to select foods for him from the dining table for each meal and to whisper where the items were on his plate (“Spanakopita at 2 o’clock; roasted potatoes at 6; green salad at 10”). I was thrilled.
He and I met briefly in the office at the end of Part 1. We exchanged pleasantries, but I learned nothing of his dietary preferences. Then we went into silence. As I bowed in at the front of the lunch line the next day, I realized I had NO IDEA what to feed this man. Did he like eggplant? Beets? Hollyhock? Did he hate olives — or celery — or cilantro?! The dining options had never seemed so vast. Over the next few weeks I drove myself insane trying to figure it all out. He ate everything I put in front of him, so there were no clues. My anxiety rose so high that I would pace the bowling alley before breakfast every morning dreading the bell. Black tea or green? Bagels or toast? Raspberry or apricot?!
One morning, as I described this agonizing pattern to Alexis Santos in interview, he interrupted my mania to say, “The Buddha would not be disturbed by this.” Somehow that wisdom cut through the obsessive suffering, and I began to let go. I realized I would never know what this man liked, or didn’t like, or how I was doing. But he hadn’t starved, so I was doing my job well enough. At last, the integration days of retreat arrived, and we eased out of silence. I gingerly approached my friend with the final plate of food, and he turned to me, uttering some of the finest words I have ever heard: “Thank you, Anna. You were my sunshine.”
Peter S.
One summer in my 20s, when I was looking for something new, three different friends suggested I check out IMS. I had no exposure to dharma practice, but on their recommendation I signed up for a retreat.
It happened to be a metta retreat. A kind person in the front office patiently answered my questions—like whether the metta phrases were a kind of mantra. I really didn’t know much about the dharma.
After the first few days, filled with boredom and doubt, something shifted. I felt my heart soften in a way I had never experienced before. I became aware of my own suffering, and at the same time found a compassion for it I hadn’t known was possible.
I fell in love with the practice then and there—and with IMS, which became a place of real safety and care. I stayed on for the rest of the summer as a work retreatant. My introduction to the dharma became three months on retreat at IMS.
Now in my 60s, I remain deeply devoted to the dharma. That summer shaped the course of my life. I think of IMS as my dharma birthplace, and it is always a joy to return.
James G. McHarg
I happened to have had the good fortune to sit the 1984 three month retreat. There is not enough dana in the world to make up for the gift that I was given. Much metta to all of my IMS teachers from that time. Sharon, Joseph, Jack, and Michelle. And of course Dipa Ma.
I remember most of the events of that retreat (more so than many subsequent moments). Loved the good cop bad cop thing that was happening with Joseph and Sharon during interviews. I will not say who was who, but there was this wonderful metta aspect coming at me as well as a disciplined guide getting me out of bed at 4:00 in the morning.
If I had to choose one moment above all others during that retreat, I would have to say that, during walking meditation I happened to look across the grounds to Dipa Ma’s cottage. She was out back doing her laundry. An every day or once a week occurrence. No big deal. However, there was Dipa Ma in her white sari, all of her white laundry dancing in the breeze, and her movements were like a dance of angels. Having seen that, I thought yes this is what my friend Joseph meant about suchness.
Guessing that even the clothes pegs were enlightening.
John Hanbury
I saw a flyer on a tree in NYC for a retreat with Stephen Levine and Ondrea Levine on death and dying in 1980. My parents were elderly and going through health crises, and I was burning out. At that retreat, I first heard about Insight Meditation in Barre, MA, and began going there for longer retreats.
One was led by Ruth Denison, who was in her 80s. I still remember, after a long sit, hearing us groan collectively. She looked out at us—most in our 20s and 30s, with a few older—and said we needed to get used to it.
Over the years, I sat with many teachers, including Sharon Salzberg and Michele McDonald, who shared her chocolate story. Today, I sit with a group led by Chas DiCapua on Monday nights.
I remember the main hall—so many people sitting quietly, observing the breath, allowing the mind to settle. Evenings sitting late into the night. Mornings beginning with breakfast in silence, followed by chores, sitting, and walking.
After one nine-day silent retreat, I returned home to NYC and met friends for brunch the next day. The noise was overwhelming—knives, forks, spoons, dishes, coffee cups, conversations all at once, orders being called, the sound of eating. I fled back to my quiet apartment to recover for the day.
Jill Guttman
I discovered IMS shortly after beginning my meditation practice in 2019. Sharon Salzberg has changed my life. I’ve participated in many of her courses, including the meditation challenges and others, and I will carry her teachings with me for the rest of my life.
One of my favorite lines from her meditations is: “Don’t worry about it—just begin again.” She speaks to me in ways that help me understand my own mind.
Always a beginner’s mind, and so grateful for IMS.
Serena M
Immense gratitude for the great work and opportunities made available for reaching out to the greater Buddhist sanghas to learn the Dharma from different and meaningful perspectives.
Linda Haller
When I first walked through the doors of IMS 35 years ago for the 9-day 1990 New Year’s Retreat, I had no idea what to expect. It was my first meditation retreat, led by Jack Kornfield, Sylvia Boorstein, and Rodney Smith. While challenging, the experience was overwhelmingly positive and life-changing.
I still have fond memories of watching Jack’s slide show on New Year’s Eve, then brushing my teeth filled with incredible joy and gratitude. The chickadees eating out of my hand are another vivid memory.
IMS, and Jack Kornfield, truly changed the course of my life. Since that first retreat, I have continued to return to IMS, deepen my meditation practice, and study Buddhism, integrating these teachings into my life and my work as a physician.
Now, at 70 years old, I realize I have been coming to IMS for half my life. I feel a deep sense of amazement and gratitude for all the years of practice and teachings.
Much metta and thanks to you all.
Sarra Spierer
Happy anniversary, IMS!
I came to IMS in 2002, just out of college. A friend told me about the center, and though I had virtually no meditation experience—and just as little money—I was intrigued and eager to attend a retreat. I will always be grateful not only to IMS, the staff and teachers, and the teachings, but also to the generous community and the scholarship that made my first retreat possible.
As soon as that retreat ended, I signed up for the next—and then continued attending about twice a year for the next 20 years. The community, and the beautiful, safe, and quiet space that IMS provides, have been truly life-changing and life-giving.
Anonymous
One of the most transformational moments I experienced at IMS took place in the walking meditation room beneath Karuna House, in front of the touching-the-earth Buddha. I was feeling fear and decided to experiment with directing metta toward the object of that fear.
It may be obvious, but metta shifted my focus away from the small self and into a different perspective. In that moment, I felt a sense of goodwill toward what I had feared, rather than feeling subject to it. It was a simple realization, but the power of it was overwhelming.
Since then, I’ve returned to this practice—using it to shift perspective whenever I’m able to recognize fear at the root of my discomfort.
Stephanie Sanchez
Joseph Goldstein’s teachings helped me through the COVID crisis.
Knowing that you are sitting.
Nikki Mirghafori
IMS changed my life in a way that cannot be undone.
Had IMS not invited Venerable Pa Auk Sayadaw to teach at the Forest Refuge in 2008 and again in 2011, the arc of my path would have been utterly different. It was there, through months of rigorous practice under his guidance, that he became my root teacher, shaping not only my path but my understanding of what it means to be alive. Those were among the most formative months of my life, pouring cooling waters on the fires of existential anguish and longing I had carried for as long as I could remember.
Later, through the gift of the four-year Retreat Teacher Training, IMS offered me a Dharma education of remarkable breadth and integrity, along with the practical wisdom to teach and to hold others well—preparing me for the life of service I now live.
What I received here did not end with me. It has continued to flow outward—through practice, through teaching, and through the lives of those touched by that teaching.
My gratitude is immense.
May the many seeds of wisdom, love, discipline, and freedom that IMS has gathered and tended over these fifty years continue to blossom in the world—for the welfare of many, and the awakening of all beings.
Shawn Burke
On retreat at IMS in July 2022, my one-on-one teacher interview was with Steve Armstrong. He spent time asking questions and offering feedback about an insight experience. Then he leaned back, paused, and said, “Let me ask you a question: How does this touch your heart?”
I replied, “Do you mean how I’m relating to this experience?”
“Well, kind of. Let me ask again: How does this touch your heart?”
That question changed my practice and my life. It helped me move beyond seeking “meditation trophies” and toward practices that shape how I am in the world. I keep Steve’s question front and center every day.
With gratitude,
Jeanne Malmgren
I carry a vivid memory from one of Ruth Denison’s Labor Day weekend retreats in the 1990s. Ruth had a gift for encouraging somatic mindfulness. She often brought yogis outside to explore the Dharma through free movement in our own bodies.
After one of those sessions, while everyone else returned to the meditation hall, I stayed outside. I wanted to do walking meditation in a circular garden on the front lawn. It was early September, and the air was golden—soft, warm, radiant. Insects buzzed around me, and I could smell the earthy musk of goldenrod.
During that time, I settled into a profound sense of equanimity and clear, luminous presence. I have never felt more alive.
Now, decades later, that memory returns whenever I find myself in a place where the air and light feel the same as they did on that September day at IMS.
Charlene Pilon
Twenty years ago, I attended my first retreat with Sharon Salzberg, after just beginning a meditation practice with a friend. How hard could it be to step away from the distractions of everyday life and sit in silence for three days? It turned out to be one of the most difficult weekends of my life.
Sharon was funny, genuine, and relatable. What stood out for me was my own restlessness, doubt, and self-judgment as I embarked on a second career. That weekend revealed both the simplicity of the practice and its difficulty—but also offered tools, especially loving-kindness, that have stayed with me ever since.
Over the years, through many retreats and teachers, the restlessness has softened. I now settle more quickly into the simplicity of retreat life, remembering Christina Feldman’s words: “Nothing to do, nowhere to be.”
IMS helped me find a path toward being less judgmental, less doubtful, and more equanimous. The path is not a straight line, but one with many twists and turns—and I’m better at accepting that now.
Thank you to IMS and to all the teachers for your guidance.
Roberta Anderson
I can hardly describe the enormity of the opening I experienced during and after attending a fall/winter retreat at IMS with Joseph Goldstein, Jack Kornfield, and Sharon Salzberg.
That retreat was a profound opening for me, and I can still remember the sense of a NEW WORLD—hitherto unknown—revealing itself. It is a world I have continued to explore, love, and live in ever since. Thank you.
Yolanda W.
I was introduced to IMS in 1977, I believe. After a couple of 10-day retreats, I dove into the Three-Month Retreat in 1979.
That Thanksgiving, all the teachers—including Jack and Joseph—and the staff served the retreatants. One of the servers was a young monk who had led several of the discussion groups I had attended. I was struck by how kind and knowledgeable he was and wanted to express my gratitude.
When it came my turn to be served, I approached him to kiss his cheek. He took a step back; I took two steps forward and kissed him anyway, bowed, and then got my meal.
It was only after the silence was broken that someone informed me of the rules monks have about contact with women. Thoroughly embarrassed by my ignorance, I was still impressed by how graciously he handled it.
Bryony Smith
One of my favorite memories is a photo taken of me with Joseph at the Forest Refuge on April 19, 2017, when I was the Forest Refuge manager. That irreverent playfulness with Joseph—and with Caroline, not pictured—was a delight.
I arrived at IMS to join the staff in November 2008 and was immediately welcomed into a game of four-square with the exuberant team. I was struck by how Chas could offer wise, measured teachings one moment and then pound the four-square ball with competitive fervor the next.
I remember picking up Ruth Denison from the airport in the fall of 2011 and being captivated by her life stories on the drive back to Barre, along with her wonderfully eccentric personality.
During the big ice storm of 2008, when IMS lost power for several days, the staff came together as a true community. We cleaned the center by headlamp and flushed toilets with ice water from a nearby pond. Seeing the paramis in action in that moment was deeply inspiring—everyone contributing to the well-being of the whole. It felt like a real sangha.
There were so many precious moments during my ten years at IMS, including singing with the Dharmettes at Bob Agoglia’s retirement party and again at IMS’s 40th anniversary.
Metta, metta.
Daniel Chowning
IMS has been a source of healing and transformation for me since my first retreat in 1982 with Christina Feldman and Christopher Titmus. From that time on, I returned for many retreats of varying lengths.
Joseph Goldstein and Sharon Salzberg, who were my teachers on several of those retreats, have had a profound influence on my life through both their teaching and their example.
More recently, I made my first retreat at the Forest Refuge. It is a remarkable place. The very idea of creating a center dedicated to deep spiritual practice feels both wise and necessary.
In a world where violence is so widespread, how much we need spaces that support compassion, mercy, and healing—both in our personal lives and in the wider world. Places like IMS and the Forest Refuge offer an opportunity to enter deeply into what is most real, and to support the transformation of our lives and our world.
Peace and metta.
Tom Spies
IMS is my sangha. Before I came across IMS, I was studying in the Theravada tradition. After a number of years, my teacher relocated, and I was left somewhat isolated in my practice.
I came across a book by Jack Kornfield and Joseph Goldstein, Seeking the Heart of Wisdom, which deeply resonated with me. I decided to attend a weeklong retreat at IMS, and it felt like home right away. As a lay Theravada Buddhist, the IMS community was a perfect fit.
I was fortunate to join the IMS staff and remained for five years. During that time, I participated in the Staff Sangha and was exposed to many IMS teachers. Having access to this network of teachers—and their guidance, both in person and online—continues to be a vital part of my practice and my life. I consider IMS an important resource for well-being, not only for myself but for the wider community.
While on staff, Chas DiCapua led the Staff Sangha and became my teacher. He shared the Dhamma in a way that was relatable, pragmatic, and joyful. I carry many of his teachings into my daily practice and remain deeply grateful.
With metta.
Maureen
On one retreat, I found myself curled up on my mat, crying after a brief glimpse of non-self that left me shaken and unsettled. It was a difficult retreat overall. At the time, I was struggling with a painful decision—whether to divorce my partner. The uncertainty was consuming me; I felt stuck and unable to move forward.
I made an appointment with Vance Pryor, and that conversation changed my life. We began by talking about my experience on retreat, and then he gently asked, “What’s really going on?” I shared some of what was happening in my marriage and mentioned that I had struggled with alcohol years earlier. He responded simply, “Of course you did.” No one had ever met me with that kind of understanding. His compassion and lack of judgment lifted a weight I had been carrying for a long time.
Later in the interview, he helped me see more clearly what was happening—that I was being drained, both by the relationship and by my inability to make a decision. He told me I deserved better, and that recognizing this wasn’t selfish.
I still carry that insight with me. I did choose to leave the marriage, and while some sadness remains, I now feel that I am living the life I deserve—one that no longer leaves me feeling small or diminished.
With lovingkindness.
Mary Cottingham
Joseph Goldstein is a rock star to me! I’ve listened to his talks for years and follow his meditations most days.
A heartfelt thank-you to the IMS founders and teachers for bringing vipassana meditation to the West..
Terri Silipo
Over time, my relationship to practice has become quieter and simpler.
In the beginning, I was looking for something—relief, clarity, maybe even a kind of certainty. I listened carefully, followed instructions, and tried to understand things the “right” way. That phase had its place.
What has stayed is something much less complicated: sitting, noticing, returning. Not trying to fix my experience or turn it into anything meaningful. Just allowing what is here to be here.
There is less urgency now. Less need to get somewhere. Practice has become less about insight as an event, and more about a steady willingness to remain present, even when nothing feels resolved.
That has been enough.
Jasper
“Anything can happen at any time.” I believe this quote came from Joseph, and it stays with me each day as I experience the alternating joys and sorrows of daily life.
It doesn’t mean there are no surprises. But the phrase gives me space to pause and reflect, rather than getting carried away by the story.
John Corwin
I attended my first residential retreat (nine days) at IMS in 2004 and was inspired to return many times thereafter.
A highlight of that first retreat involved ringing the bell to summon meditators to the hall—a role I did not volunteer for because it seemed terrifying and felt like too much responsibility. One day, however, a teacher approached me in the hallway and asked if I could step in, as the scheduled person was unavailable. Of course, I said yes.
Not only was it easier than I expected, but I also felt great having contributed this small piece to the community effort. It was a wonderful opportunity to see fear in action—and to learn that it isn’t necessary to make decisions based on it.
Jim Mahoney
I started doing retreats back when the basement wasn’t yet finished and continued every year until around 2015.
My first retreat was with Mike and Norian, and while it sometimes felt long and dull, the talks hooked me on the dharma. There was more common sense in this spiritual tradition than in any other I had been exposed to.
My third retreat was with Steve and Kamala, and I continued practicing with them for the next 10 or 15 years. To put it simply, I was blown away by Steve—his intellect, his clarity, and his vast knowledge of the dharma. I found myself hanging on every word. A truly remarkable man.
I was very saddened by his recent passing, though it seemed he lived longer after his diagnosis than anyone I’ve known with that illness. I’m sure his dharma practice played a role in that.
I’m 75 now, and while the body is beginning to slow down, I maintain a two-sits-a-day practice that sustains me in these later years. My biggest regret is that I didn’t start earlier. My greatest gift is that I started at all—and that the dharma has been my refuge for the past thirty years.
IMS is invaluable, and in today’s world, needed more than ever.
Metta.
Alice Rosen
I have been going to IMS since 1978, and it is truly a place I call home.
I always marvel that being on retreat is a healing experience—one of deeply connecting and balancing body, mind, and spirit.
In 1979, I had an experience and insight that changed the course of my life. I had been struggling with food issues for over 15 years. I don’t remember who said it, but we were encouraged to note the intention to pick up the utensil while eating. I followed the instructions, and to my surprise, there came a point when I had no desire to pick up my fork, even though there was still delicious food on my plate. Normally, I would have gone for seconds. With this simple awareness, I discovered “enough,” and learned that mindfulness can soften craving.
Another insight came on retreat when I had a clear vision of a mindfulness-based retirement community. Wouldn’t that be a profound shift in how we approach aging, sickness, and death? This has yet to manifest in my lifetime, but I hope that by naming it, I may help it come into being.
I continue to feel impressed and grateful for the wide range of teachers at IMS, each expressing the dharma in their own authentic way. They are all inspiring.
In deepest gratitude.
Timothy Sweeney
The 1981 Three-Month Retreat marked the beginning of a profound healing of ancestral wounds. I was in a very desolate place and felt held from the moment I walked through the front door of IMS.
It was an extraordinary retreat, with Joseph, Sharon, Jack, Sunanda, Bhante Seevali, and Munindra. I later sat for another two and a half years of long-term retreats, with breaks to integrate and work.
During the winter of 1986, I had the opportunity to practice with Sharon every day, alongside two of my favorite yogis, Carol Wilson and Gavin Harrison, as the only long-term yogis at IMS that winter.
My gratitude knows no bounds for the teachers, yogis, and volunteer staff of those early days at IMS. Absolutely life-changing.
❤️
Scott Vradelis
Thanks for this opportunity to share.
This piece came during a retreat period in the summer of 2023.
Forever grateful. ♥️😊♥️
In the garden, on a crooked bough,
the catbird brings the day’s dhammas.
Nearby, the tall grass responds
with silent diamond droplets.
And the sky.
Reva Levin
Years ago, I remember a Labor Day weekend retreat with Ruth Dennison. With her long skirts, accented English, and cadre of famous dharma friends, she was sweet and adamant about meditation practice—whether eating, walking, standing for hours, or sharing stories of her experience as a WWII prisoner of war.
It is amazing that after so many years, her teachings remain vivid for me.
Alex Rose
IMS has been my spiritual home since 1979, when I attended a weekend retreat with Joseph, Jack, Sharon, and Jacqueline. It became even more central in my life after I attended two-week retreats over Thanksgiving the following two years, and then annual retreats ever since.
So many teachers have been instrumental in guiding my understanding of the Dhamma and my practice: Joseph, Jack, Sharon, Larry, Michelle, U Tejaniya, and others. I must also express my gratitude and appreciation for the staff—IMS is so beautifully and smoothly run, facilitating the experience for yogis. The additional buildings and enhancements over the years have been very well thought-out.
My memories include sitting in the hall, Dharma talks, walking on the bowling alley, walks in the woods, silent meals, and doing the yogi job. Group and individual interviews have been enormously helpful.
I have experienced such a range of thoughts and emotions during retreats. Most memorable have been the times of being effortlessly present in the now.
Thank you.
Larry Conte
At Gaston Pond
I sit upon the weathered bench,
the hush of morning all around.
Dragonflies stitch silver air,
their wings like glass in motion found.
The water lilies rest with quiet grace,
their faces open to the day.
Ripples whisper over roots,
carrying soft reflections away.
The sun, just risen, spreads its gold,
a gentle warmth through autumn’s chill.
Each beam lays tender on the pond,
each moment asks my heart to still.
And here I breathe, both guest and kin,
to water, wing, and leaf’s slow song.
In this cool fall morning light,
I feel the world where I belong.
Marcia Rose
I will always hold IMS with great fondness and appreciation, along with boundless metta and gratitude for the many years I practiced the Dhamma there, later served as resident teacher for staff for more than four years, and went on to teach retreats at both the Forest Refuge and IMS’s main center.
I am forever grateful to my two primary mentors, Joseph and Sharon, who patiently guided me through the unfolding and blossoming of my learning to skillfully offer the Dhamma to IMS staff and retreatants. During those years, Joseph, Sharon, and other senior IMS teachers wisely, patiently, and lovingly trained and supported me as I learned to teach retreats for the many people who came to practice at IMS.
I do not have words to express the depth of my gratitude for all of this training and guidance. At IMS, I also connected with one of my root teachers, Sayadaw U Pandita. Pa Auk Sayadaw likewise became a deeply important root teacher for me through years of practice with him at the Forest Refuge.
Thank you from the bottom and fullness of my heart for keeping IMS such a vital Dhamma center for 50 years. My time there was profoundly life-changing—as it has been, and will continue to be, for so many others.
IMS is my spiritual home.
With much love, gratitude and boundless metta.
Eileen Casey
The moment I walk into the Retreat Center, I feel my shoulders drop. The programs, the food, and the entire environment support my practice. I especially love relinquishing my phone.
The Meditation Hall, the beautiful land on which the Retreat Center sits, and the bells all help create an atmosphere of calm.
May all beings be safe.
May all beings be healthy.
May all beings live in peace.
With gratitude
