A FRIEND’S TRIBUTE: “For Claire, and for the Buddhist voice that said sorry”

“Claire was not someone I, or those who knew her, would ever have imagined would take her own life.  I saw her at Samye Ling just a few days before she went to the retreat on Holy Isle.”

“After everything that has happened, it has felt extraordinary to me that the Buddhist response I had hoped for — compassion, reflection, humility and simply an acknowledgement of the suffering that has occurred — has been so absent.”

“She was a nurse by profession. She worked for Mind and Carers Resource, and later at St Catherine’s Hospice, and then at Raincliffe Woods. Her work at Raincliffe Woods brought together so many of the things she loved: nature, mindfulness, wellbeing and helping people.”

One of the things that struck me about the whole case, and the inquest (I have not read the full report only what the media reported mainly) , was the lack of any public (or even private) statements of care, sadness, apologies and so on about what happened to Claire on the retreat and afterwards by the “Buddhist” teachers and community.

I was told by someone close to Claire and the case,  that the only person who showed any sense of “regret” at not having done more, was Claire’s doctor who saw her shortly before she ended her life.   I was sent an album of photos of Claire at different ages, and she was clearly a very fit and active person, who did lots of hiking and visited remote places. A nurse by profession and “cared for others and the environment”.  I personally believe that most suicides are preventable if the people closest to them care and notice enough to know someone is experiencing profound pain and psychological trauma.

Here is what her friend wanted to tell people about Claire and my article:

“Adele, I wanted to reach out to you because your words touched my heart.

You are the first Buddhist voice I have encountered in all of this who has spoken with what feels to me like a very genuine heart of care for Claire, and for her family and friends. You also have an understanding of the Vajrayana tradition, and I think that combination is important.

Because after everything that has happened, it has felt extraordinary to me that the Buddhist response I had hoped for — compassion, reflection, humility and simply an acknowledgement of the suffering that has occurred — has been so absent.

One would have thought that this was exactly what would have come from those who present themselves as holding such a high Buddhist ground and who have such global reputations.

Yet after everything that has happened, it should not have been so extraordinary to hear a Buddhist say, “I’m sorry.”

Instead, there has been so much defence, so much argument and so much protection of the organisation, Rokpa Trust. I have found myself wondering why there could not simply have been a moment of stopping and asking:

What happened here?

What could we have done differently?

What can we learn from this?

How can we make sure this does not happen again?

Because we cared.

We cared about Claire.

She had lived in our centre for seven years. It was her home. She gave so much to it, and she cared deeply about it. We knew her. We knew who she was.

And yet, in response to what happened, there has been not one word of what I would recognise as genuine compassion or care for Claire — just defensiveness, doubling down, and the skilful use of legal processes to defend and protect the organisation, rather than a willingness to pause, listen and ask what could have been done differently.

Your words felt completely different.

They came from care, compassion and love. And that is why I wanted to reach out to you — something I would not normally do. But your words touched something very deeply in me, and I felt I needed to tell you what they meant to me.

I was a close friend of Claire. We had both lived at Kagyu Samye Dzong in Scarborough for many years, and during that time, I came to know her very well.

Claire loved the centre. She really, truly loved it. It was her home.

We would often have a joke about who was cleaning the toilets that week. She never minded. She just got on with it. We worked together in those everyday tasks, and I always felt such great appreciation and gratitude towards Claire for the care she gave and quiet reliable loving support.

She cared about the smallest details because she cared about the people who used the centre. When courses were taking place, she would organise the cleaning rotas because she wanted the centre to look its very best for the teachers and everyone attending.

There was no sense of doing these things for recognition. She simply saw what needed doing and did it.

I remember her kindness, her conscientiousness and her willingness to give. She was a truly kind human being, and I was always grateful to Claire for the care she brought to the centre and to the people around her.

And that was Claire. She was a person who cared, who gave, who gave far more than she ever took. She was conscientious and diligent, and deeply caring towards others. She saw the good in everyone and lived by the highest of values. She was a truly good, pure hearted and gracious human being.

Her whole working and volunteering life reflected that goodness.

She was a nurse by profession . She worked for Mind and Carers Resource, and later at St Catherine’s Hospice, and then at Raincliffe Woods. Her work at Raincliffe Woods brought together so many of the things she loved: nature, mindfulness, wellbeing and helping people.

She wanted to share her love of the natural world with others, introducing people to the beauty of the woods, organising walks and helping people to find the same sense of connection and peace that she found there.

She also loved mindfulness. She taught the Mindfulness-Based Living course through the Everyone Project with the Mindfulness Association, and she loved being able to share mindfulness with people.

Helping others and easing people’s suffering was not something she had to think about doing. It was simply natural to her.

That was who Claire was.

She also gave generously to the Buddhist centre she loved and she also organised a charity walk in the Three Peaks Yorkshire to raise money so that the Kagyu Samye Dzong Scarborough sign could be paid for. She undertook the Camino pilgrimage. She gave her time, her energy and her heart.

She was not someone who took from life. She gave far more than she ever took, and she did so without asking for anything in return.

I would not describe Claire as someone who was deeply immersed in Buddhist Vadjrayana  practice in the way some practitioners are. But she was deeply connected to the goodness of life and to the goodness she saw and believed in other people.

She found great connection, love and support in nature and mindfulness, and she wanted to share those things with others. She was deeply connected to the goodness in people and to the beauty of life.

That was Claire’s way of being in the world.

And that is why what happened to Claire during that retreat is so profoundly shocking to me.

Claire was not someone I, or those who knew her, would ever have imagined would take her own life.

I saw her at Samye Ling just a few days before she went to the retreat on Holy Isle . We spent an evening together chatting over herbal teas.  She was tired because she had already been through an intensive period involving a great deal of cleaning as preparation, but she was hopeful, optimistic and upbeat.

She knew the retreat might be difficult, but she believed it might be the answer to what she needed.

She had not met Drupen Rinpoche before this , as far as I know, and I don’t believe she understood what she was going into.

After she left the retreat, Claire and I spoke by telephone and exchanged messages. She told me that she felt the retreat had been dangerous and that there had been no proper duty of care.

She told me that she wished she had listened to her body during the first couple of weeks, when she had already hurt her back through the prostrations, 2am early mornings and periods of sitting.

She also told me how distressed she had been by what she experienced as the shaming and humiliation online by Drupon Rinpoche of another woman retreatant in Sekhar, Nepal.

Claire had believed that the retreat would be about compassion. What she experienced left her deeply distressed and, in her own words, spiritually lost.

She told me that she regretted not listening to herself earlier.

But by then she had been encouraged to push through the pain, with the understanding that pain was part of the process. She continued for 4  months, until eventually she was in severe physical and emotional distress.

She returned to her mother’s home, but the pain continued to become worse.

Claire eventually took her own life.

I have often wondered, since Claire died, what she would want.

What would Claire say?

What would Claire want us to learn?

What would she do?

Those questions matter to me because I knew her, not simply as someone whose death became the subject of an inquest, but as a friend, as someone who shared a home and a community with me, and as a person who had given so much of herself to others.

After the final day of Claire’s inquest, I went to Raincliffe Woods and sat on the beautiful memorial bench they had made for her.

And I sat beneath Claire’s favourite tree, an enormous, magnificent beech tree.

The sunlight was glittering through the branches. There was the sound of the breeze moving through the leaves. It was extraordinarily beautiful.

And sitting there, I thought about Claire and about what how much she loved: nature, beauty, mindfulness, kindness, people, and the possibility of helping others.

That is the Claire I want people to remember.

She was one of those genuinely good people you sometimes meet in life. We talk about people being good, compassionate or caring, but Claire really was one of them.

And that is why your words touched me so much, Adele.

Because when you said sorry, I heard something that I had been longing to hear: not an argument, not a defence, not another legal position, but a human response.

A Buddhist response.

A response rooted in care.

I don’t believe saying sorry diminishes Buddhism, a lineage or an organisation. I believe genuine acknowledgement, humility and compassion are part of what makes the Dharma meaningful.

Sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is stop defending ourselves and simply listen.

Claire deserved that.

She deserved to be listened to.

She deserved to have her experience taken seriously.

And I believe she would want something good to come from what happened to her — not hatred or revenge, but learning, honesty, compassion and change.

So, Adele, thank you.

Thank you for having the courage and the heart to say sorry.

Thank you for caring about Claire, and for recognising the humanity at the centre of this.

Because behind all the arguments, legal proceedings and institutional responses, there was a human being.

Her name was Claire.

She was loved.

She cared deeply.

She gave far more than she ever took.

She was a good, pure – hearted and gracious human being.

And she mattered.

With love for Claire, and with love and care for her family , all those who knew her and loved her, may the goodness she carried continue to touch the lives of others.”