03/31/2021
Last week my Dharma sister, Dana Anne Waginger, passed away. Dana (pronounced like "Donna") was her Dharma name and is the Pali word for "generosity, giving of one's self" and is one of the Buddhist paramitas (perfections). I cannot think of a more apt name.
I met Dana Anne Waginger in the late 80s. She had placed a listing in a local “new age” magazine offering Zen meditation in her home on Monroe Street in South Philly. We sat together there, a couple of blocks south of bustling South Street, on the third floor of the rowhouse, on Tuesday and Thursday evenings every week. Sometimes others would join us but as often as not, it was just the two of us. She named it Plum Tree Zendo.
There was a kitchen against the back wall of that third floor room where, during kinhin (walking meditation), Dana would light a low flame beneath a big, metal pot of water. During our second sitting, the water would slowly heat and the pot would begin to quietly creak as the minutes ticked by. As a newcomer to sitting meditation, that subtle sound was, for me, a welcome harbinger of the ending bell. I took comfort that it wouldn’t be long before my aching knees were given a rest. Once the sittings were concluded, Dana would pour that hot water into cups and serve herb tea (tangy rose hips come to mind) and we would enjoy a little social time.
This is where I would eventually meet Genro Lee Milton who would soon become my lifelong teacher.
Dana and I traveled to New York Zendo on several occassions for periodic formal and informal sessions led by Genro. We began doing weekend and weeklong sesshin at Plum Tree with Genro. Dana was Tenzo. Anyone who ever ate Dana’s food can testify to what an amazing cook she was. One of my fondest memories is huge breakfast muffins fresh from the oven, slathered with orange butter. Not exactly austere sesshin food but MAN were they good! As she matured as a Zen student, her cooking as Tenzo became simpler but no less delicious.
Dana seemed to be able to do anything. She sewed our robes and I still wear mine, ripped, patched and threadbare, 30 years later. She made a beautiful cloth case with a bright red lining to keep my rakasu in. She was always in the midst of a knitting project and she could type as fast as anyone I’ve ever met.
Eventually Genro and Dana went in search of a country place. Dana sold her Monroe Street house and in a gesture of extraordinary (and humbling) generosity, used the proceeds to purchase the house and the 18 beautiful acres which she donated to what is now Endless Mountain Zendo. Truly "sine qua non."
As long as her health allowed, Dana was an ever-present and inspiring fixture at EMZ, actively participating in countless sesshins, special events, board meetings, fundraisers, and gatherings.
Recently she embraced the 21st century and overcame the restrictions of covid and began doing Zoom sittings with me and others from both EMZ as well as Burning House Zendo in Baltimore. In fact, just a day or two before her death I got an email from her saying that though she was experiencing some neck pain, she expected to return to “za-zooming” in a day or two.
The death of someone as instrumental in my life as Dana was doesn’t feel real, but of course I know it is. I will miss her stern looks as much as her hearty laugh. Her spirit ("dana", indeed) will never cease to surround me and inspire me. She set a high bar.
Rest in peace, Dana, my Dharma sister.
Deep bow
