Two Teachers Remember Justin Stone

Sitting here with a blank screen… There are so many levels of emotion, so many memories waiting to be shared in print, but how can one capture them fully in words? My T’ai Chi Chih journey began in 1990 during a personal growth sabbatical when my daily practice of Centering Prayer was coupled with T’ai Chi Chih – which provided the focus, inner peace and quiet that allowed the meditative practice to become an integral part of my life.

Although I was accredited in February 1991, my first encounter with Justin was at the 1994 Denver conference. When I attended a later San Diego conference, the “connection” happened (as memory serves). The talk was about personal growth and evolution, with many statements about how people try to change but to no avail, such as in organized religion – like hearing a sermon on Sunday with no character change on Monday. I wondered if I should say anything, but chose not to. At the end Justin asked, “Do you agree with what I said, Sister?” “Yes. I don’t know if you noticed, but I belong to an organized religion.” His quick-witted response? “If I knew more people like you, I may consider joining myself.” This left me red faced.

Over the years we exchanged many letters and visits focused on the great teachers of the Far East, TCC and the evolution that can happen through practice. This is the reason why I treasure Spiritual Odyssey. There was always a respect and spiritual connection beyond his Zen practice and my Franciscan Roman Catholic lifestyle: the practice of TCC allowed us to meet in a place of mystical spirituality beyond words or creeds. The ultimate shock came when he asked me to consider being Head of TCC. After exchanging letters and phone calls, I said yes but expressed discomfort with the title “Head.” Justin asked if “Guide” would be all right, adding three responsibilities that go with it: uniting teachers, leading conferences, and bringing TCC into the future. I added that I would only do this if Sandy McAlister and Pam Towne would continue as trainers. This was November 2003.

I want to express my deep gratitude for your dedication to this moving meditation this, spiritual practice that is so simple yet deeply profound. Thank you, Justin, for your life. You now know (chih) the Divine Instrument, Mystery, which allowed you to receive the gift you then gifted to the world – by simply being who you were meant to be. With profound joy for the gift and for our friendship.

– Antonia Cooper, North Plainfield, NJ

In the late 1980’s, when Justin was living in Pacific Grove, California, I was involved in several TCC conferences. I found it much easier to work with Justin in person when planning events, so he invited me to visit on several occasions for the weekend. I remember the first time: I was thrilled but petrified. What I could possibly say to this man who moved and lived in a whole different world than I? But Justin had a knack for meeting people where they were, on their level so to speak, and he quickly put me at ease. That is to say: I was at ease with him being who he was and me being who I was, knowing we were worlds apart.

One incident that has stayed with me all these years took place during one of those visits. We were talking about a past relationship, and I said the reason I’d ended it was because the person was socially immature. Justin slightly cocked his head and looked thoughtfully at me for some time and uttered an almost imperceptible “hum.” This ended the conversation but his “look” has come to mind many times over the years. I could never quite figure out what he was thinking, but there sure was a thought which he never voiced.

About 20 years later during some soul searching and looking at my past, I realized that my relationships with men have been very immature on certain levels. And I’ll be damned: during the moment of this epiphany I saw Justin’s face with that slight tilt of his head and that ‘thoughtful’ look. Only then I knew what he was thinking. I wonder how many other times I missed the boat over something he didn’t say.

– Sandy McAlister, Hayward, CA