Can you hear me way in the back, back there? We come here to Tassajara to practice in some seclusion. But what we really mean by seclusion is the calmness of our mind. Although it helps us to practice here, at Tassajara, in some physical situation which is secluded and calm, actually, when we talk about caves and going into seclusion, we might mean entering into the calmness of your mind. It's not easy to do because our mind races ahead of our breathing and our feeling. So it helps to have some kind of practice like we do to come back to just being here.

[01:24]

in as unprogrammed a way as possible, with no ideas about being here, just being here, wherever that place is. And you have to take tremendous security in that place. This is my practice. This is my zendo. It doesn't matter whether it's right or wrong. At some point you have to say, this is my practice, my zendo, my own seclusion. There can't be any other, any alternative, any other place, any other refuge other than calmness of your mind. As long as there's some other, there's no calmness. Even when you're not calm, there should be the calmness of your mind. So, during a Sashin, we sit a pretty long time, and it becomes quite painful usually, particularly when you're new at it. But you want to sit still, and after a while the pain is so tremendous that you're quite agitated, and you may move your legs, and then afterwards you wish you hadn't moved your legs.

[02:54]

and you then criticize yourself, oh, I'm such a weakie, you know, or something, you know. I didn't do it, you know. At that moment, too, you should have the calmness of your mind. In the midst of the very situation which you feel you've lost the calmness, still, you should move your leg, if you've moved your leg. Whatever you do, that's it, you know. Even if you make a mistake, you make it completely, each moment. Your mind and your breathing are very closely related, as we know. I mean, it's even in our language of inspiration and expiration and spiritual. So our first practice is usually counting our breaths. One breath, two breaths, three breaths. Usually we count our exhales.

[04:00]

And to have real calmness in your breathing, usually it takes some experience and some posture, which is strong. If you wiggle all the time or you can't sit straight, your posture and your breathing can never be harmonious. So there are many reasons why we sit straight, having to do with energy and our practice over many years. But we begin just trying to sit straight. It usually takes one year or so. And as we sit straight, our breathing and the muscles which hold our back and the muscles which affect our breathing become relaxed and also steadier. and our breathing can become more and more subtle until actually it almost disappears. In this kind of situation you can have calmness of mind.

[05:19]

It's very useful, one reason we do sashings, which are not a necessary part of our practice, but a very useful part of our practice, is because, well, one, you of course get a long period of time of being without distraction. We sit this way to have some experience of being without distraction, and to do it for one week is quite a strong experience. But we do it also because the pain we feel is very helpful. Pain and restlessness are very closely related. And as long as when you're sitting, of course, when you sit a few periods a day, there's no pain. But during a session, usually you have some pain. And as long as you're trying to avoid it, I wish the bell would ring, you know. When you do that, you're comparing yourself to somebody you'll be when the bell rings. Right now, there's no bell ringing. There's no alternative. Just now. Painful person.

[06:47]

But what you feel is restlessness. Really, pain and restlessness are almost the same thing. Some desire to give form, some avoidance of... some inability even to be there without form. You know, a fluorescent light is maybe, I don't know, 50% of the time on fifty percent of the time off. But we only see the on part. And in our own activity we only see the on part. And you have to learn to see the off part. Generally in our actions we only see the completed action. A little bit like if you were watching, say, a basketball game in which you only saw the ball received and you never saw it thrown. You couldn't quite figure out what was going on, but you'd see people receiving the ball. Where did it come from? But in our own perception, we don't see the arising of a thought. Generally, we see the conclusion, we see some result. So, as you practice in this way,

[08:21]

Even if there's pain or distraction, you enter into the calmness of your mind. Enter into each breath, each particle of time. Time then is quite different. Each moment is seclusion. is freedom, is private time, is personal time. No matter what you're doing, you don't say, well, I need some time to go off and sit by the river. Right now, you have absolutely everything you need. So, as I say, we start out counting our breathing. And you count, you know, one exhale, and the second exhale. And for a while you get mixed up, though, is that the third breath, or was it the fourth, or should I start again? But where is the first breath and second breath? And who is counting your breaths? Well, eventually you begin to question

[09:50]

the who which is counting your breaths. Breathing is breathing. There's no thinker behind the thought. The thought is you. The breath is... We can't say the thought is you. The thought is the thought. The breath is the breath. Not, as I said once, thinking because I think I am, but rather thinking So thinking, that's all. No I. So shikantaza means to be able to sit in this way. Just sitting, we say, but We mean when breathing is breathing, when thinking is thinking, and there's no you thinking, just thinking, thinking, breathing, breathing. And we don't add anything to ourselves or alter ourselves, just whatever is here now, we work with. And in this sense, the practice of Buddhism is to disturb our culture.

[11:15]

What I mean by that is, we set up some kind of situation here, which you don't have to think much, there are rules, you know, so that as you try to give up the usual way of planning your activity, of thinking and organizing your activity, You don't think, actually, in the usual sense of, I should do this, and if I don't do this, that will happen. That kind of thinking, we give up. And to give it up is pretty difficult. And sometimes you go through a pretty dopey period when you rather, you can't do the simplest things you used to be able to do. So in a situation like this, you're rather protected. But if you're at a party, say, and you think, maybe I should leave the party, maybe I shouldn't, and you think about it a while, what are the various reasons, and is this a good time to go, etc. But the moment it arises, the thought,

[12:52]

should I leave the party, maybe that's the time to get up and leave the party. I mean, I don't mean rush straight to the door. In other words, you don't have to think, well, is this a good time, etc., etc., etc., just in somehow you have apprised the situation of the party and something says to you, maybe it's time to go. No need to think, you know, just go. And the more you let go to that kind of spontaneous Well, we can't say spontaneous, all such words are rather confusing, but to the situation it's so difficult to say what I mean. Anyway, you need some opportunity to let go in that kind of way, and eventually there's no difficulty, you again can do things. without problem, without effort even, without thinking. But there's an enormous amount of thinking, it's not the usual thinking. Or there's an enormous amount of intelligence in your activity, but it's not your usual thinking trying to control your activity.

[14:20]

When you have this kind of experience, then each moment is a kind of rebirth. You see things without ideas on your mind. Just like you just opened your eyes and everything was fresh and new. And you're rather surprised, oh, is that what it looks like? In such a situation, sometimes your best friend looks completely unusual and strange. And a stranger you meet is completely familiar to you. You know, when you juggle balls, if you concentrate on one ball, you'll drop them all. But if there's balls there, you juggle. If there's no balls there, you don't. But the concentration you have isn't a concentration on a ball, but concentration itself, awareness itself, even without the effort of concentration. So at first we usually have to make some effort to cut through the thoughts and distractions that make us compare ourselves to

[15:39]

what we want to be, or what the future might be, or what someone might say, or what we thought we were, wanted to be. So when you have this kind of experience, and things are fresh in this way, then you juggle, or we say, skillful means. And our culture has to be continued in some way, but not necessarily just as it is. In fact, if it's just as it is, is going backwards. So we don't come out each moment with a sense, oh, our culture should be this way, or we have this big plan, it should be that way. That's just using your head to figure out. Actually, if you enter into the activity fully, your culture will change. In such a way, maybe you're... no one may know, but

[16:41]

When people practice in this way, they organize their life and their culture around them. And you juggle whatever is necessary, whatever comes before you, without thinking, I should do that, but you do this. And your nose, maybe you just follow your nose, and it leads you, I don't know where, you know? Maybe to writing poetry, maybe to political manifestos, I don't know what it leads you to. But you just juggle with things as you find them. each thing new. How to have no thoughts in this way is pretty difficult. You know, you're doing Zazen and you sit through a period on the third or fourth day very clear, you know? Your breathing is very steady, and you feel very calm, and you have almost no thoughts, you know? Then you think, ha, my practice is getting pretty good, you know? And immediately you've blown the whole thing, right? Immediately, then you start thinking about, I shouldn't have thought that, well, my practice is pretty good. And then it's, you've lost it. So there's, I don't know if there's anything to lose, but already you're

[18:09]

Putting layers on it. You're thinking about what you enjoy. Practice in this way, too, requires commitment. As long as there's some other, some alternative, some escape, you don't really look at your situation. I mean, you never really practice Buddhism. I mean, you never know what a koan is. I mean, if you're

[19:12]

At some point, you know, you're practicing, and you realize, maybe you haven't consciously made a commitment, but you see, yes, I've made some kind of commitment. Of course, later, five years later or ten years later, you may see commitment is entirely different, and you need a whole new turning inside yourself. Or you generally don't see it until it happens. But we start out with some kind of commitment, with no sense of other. Or, in a more limited sense of other, you include whatever other there is. But you stop practicing as if you were living beside yourself. You know, a lot of us lead our lives as if We were over there, and we watched this person who did it. We weren't sure we liked what he did. We weren't really going to take responsibility for it, or look at it, or look at the darkness, or space, or death even, between thoughts, between activities, out of which everything appeared.

[20:43]

residing in that kind of seclusion. This whole problem of I don't know what I don't know means. How to really not know. I mean, it's wonderful, the Prajnaparamita literature, the way it says, you know, I guess I mentioned last time, right? Subhuti says, you know, this is so... Subhuti says, let's see, Buddha says, you know, in this kind of dialogue, there is no perfect wisdom, no complete wisdom. It's just a meaningless phrase. It's nothing at all. It's not worthy of respect. And then Subuddhi says something like, well, if you say that, Buddha, no one will respect it. No one will pay any attention to the complete perfect wisdom. And then Buddha says, that's why we call it the complete perfect wisdom. And that's really, what are they talking about? So until you have some commitment, you don't look at what you're stuck with.

[22:11]

being alive. You're going to spend most of your time dead. There's plenty of time to be dead. Right now, you're stuck with being alive. And if you're practicing Buddhism, you're stuck with Buddhism. So eventually, if you're stuck with Buddhism, you know, all right, you're practicing Buddhism a few years, and you say, you know, I must be a Buddhist. You like your teacher and you like the sauce and it feels good sometimes, you know? I must be a Buddhist. And when you really say that, then you say, well, geez, what's Buddha? Now, what is Buddha? What is Buddha? What is Buddha? Now, what is Buddha? What is this thing called Buddhism? What is Buddhism? So then you start asking yourself the question, what are we bowing before these silly images for? What is Buddha? When you come to that point, you can begin to understand or practice with Uman's koan. Uman, who is the famous Zen master, one of the most famous of all, famous for his brief one-word answers, or for no answer at all, just some, I don't know, aliveness. Anyway, someone said to Uman,

[23:40]

What is Buddha? And he said, toilet paper. Or actually, he said something like a toilet stick. Something to scratch yourself with after the toilet. Clean yourself. They didn't have toilet paper in Umlaan's time. So usually, People say in books, you see, they say, well, what Uman was saying was he was putting down religiosity or the usual spiritual doctrine, something like that. Or they say it has no meaning. It's just a statement meant to cut through. But that's an intellectual way of looking at it. Because, from that point of view, you can't, from the usual thinking point of view, you can't figure it out, so they say, ah, this is an example where Zen has no meaning. But that's not what we mean, or what U Mon meant. I mentioned before to you about U Mon's other koan, when someone asked him, what is emptiness, or the Dharmadattu, he said,

[25:07]

of a flowering bush outside the toilet. So I think Uman must have spent many months or years asking himself, what is Buddha? What is Buddha? And many times, many hundreds of hours, he sat on the toilet. What is Buddha? [...] So it tells us something about practice, how you confront each moment. with something that you can't intellectually understand, how you present something to you that you need your whole mind and body to solve. What is good? What is good? And also, every day we go to the toilet, feel better, usually, afterwards. We'd feel worse if we didn't. And likewise, with practice, with zazen, And most of us are constipated. Our usual life is this kind of... a lot of ideas. We're constipated with ideas. We live in a polluted ocean and air of ideas and knowledge. And for some of us it's rather... we're rather successful. Our particular constipation is in fashion. So people say, ah, you're wonderful. What you're doing is wonderful.

[26:34]

that it's usually just a form of constipation. I don't mean all activity is not good or something. Our only expression, activity or form, is exactly the same as emptiness. But we can't be attached to, constipated with our activity. So we practice, and it does help in some way. Being able to absorb the pain, or absorb the restlessness, or absorb our own difficulties, we begin to be able to absorb other people's difficulties and problems, which are also ours. Do you have any questions we should talk about? Yeah. This transition from training period to summer can sometimes be a little shocking. I'm finding that the job that I do this summer is physically very fast. There's so many steps that you're moving repeatedly. I'm not having too much trouble with

[28:49]

I'm aware that I become like a... as my body moves faster and faster, my breathing is faster and faster, and my head is in the now, but like picking up only superficial levels, because everything is going so fast. When I come to the zen-do, I don't meditate anymore, I just try to unwire a little bit. And I just wonder about that kind of practicing in comparison to the kind of practicing you do in a family hearing aid. And whether if you're constantly taking things in at a very superficial, quick, fast level, can you grow in depth at the same time?

[29:54]

We have to have a period like this, period in the summer, to check up on our practice. Otherwise, there's a kind of snobbery of, I'm here in the mountains alone, nothing disturbs me, the wind. But just take them to San Francisco or New York and everything goes to pieces. That's not practice, that's some Zen suburbs. I mean, Buddhism is a religion, and we go where people are, and we help people. We do whatever is necessary. So, to choose some good location and just be there, or some good practice and just do it, is, you know, a good thing to do, and it may be, it does its own work in the world, I think, to do that. I don't think everyone has to practice our way. But our way is to not be dependent on some particular situation. If we're dependent, if we need, if we have some need still to take refuge, you know, to have dependency, we take refuge or dependency in Buddha, Dharma and Sangha. What's that? We don't take refuge in, you know, what you want to be or how you'd like things to be or the country or astrology or the future

[31:24]

I hope things get better. We cut off all refuges other than Buddha-Dharma. So our practice should be mixed up. Suzuki Roshi, his teacher particularly taught him in a very mixed up way. It was interesting. when he went to be with his teacher when he was quite young. The teacher was a famous Zen master who was actually the disciple of his father. And Suzuki Roshi went to be with him when he was, when Suzuki-san, Shinryo-san at that time, was eight or something like that. So until he was 31, he stayed with his teacher. And he had to, you know, prepare breakfast and scrub the floors and carry things for his teacher. And when he came, there were about, to his teacher's temple, there were about, I think, four other young disciples. And Suzuki Yoshi was the youngest. But within one or two years from then, they'd all escaped.

[32:55]

That's Suzuki Roshi. Gyakujin, his teacher, was quite strict. Gyakujin's way of teaching, or being, or existing, was not to do anything. In fact, to mix up Shunryo-san. So, for example, they would, Suzuki Roshi, young Suzuki Roshi, would make breakfast for Gyakujin. And then Gyakujin would get up, and he would go somewhere, right? And young Suzukiroshi had to carry his luggage and bag and various things that he needed for where he was going. And Gyakujin wouldn't tell him where he was going. And so he'd quick clear the dishes. And he would grab the bag and he would start out, this young boy, after Gyakujin. And he couldn't figure out at first where Gyakujin would be going. And then he would figure it out. So, he must be going to that village over there, that house. So then he would take a shortcut, because the man could walk faster than he could. And he'd cut across some way, and then he'd come out ahead of Gyakujin and wait for him to come. He told the story one day of Gyakujin started off, and he grabbed the luggage and started after him, and he figured out where he was going, so he took a shortcut.

[34:21]

And yet, but he also waited. He thought he was ahead of Yakujin. And he waited near a bridge, looking at some fish. And while he was looking at the fish, Yakujin took a carriage. Next thing he knew, there was the carriage way in the distance. So Suzuki Roshi had to take a real shortcut this time. So he set out across the rice paddies. And he had to ford a river, carrying this suitcase. And everything became completely wet. So he was carrying, you know, things for some ceremony he had to do, probably. And Yakujin's okesa, this is the okesa, his robe, Buddha's robe, got completely soaked. And Ruki Roshi said, he must have been very angry, but because he was interested in me, he didn't criticize me. And when they would begin to get some sense of the way the monastery or the temple he lived in should be, he would change things around. And I remember when, some of you know this story, but

[35:42]

You know, we have three rounds of the bell or han. And on the third round, Suzuki Roshi comes. And it's coordinated so as the bell gets faster, he's coming. And Chick Reader's wife, who's a very beautiful girl from Mississippi or someplace, was doing it. And she'd just been trained. He was watching very carefully and starting the bell going bong, [...] bong. He was coming along, you know, very close. And he's supposed to turn in the zendo, right? And the bell's supposed to... He went right past the zendo. And she didn't know what to do. She was going bong, [...] bong. And he kept right on going down almost to the office. And at the office, he turned around and gave her a big smile. So, though we have rules for various reasons and a very organized life here, it seems, because we all live together and practice together, it looks, it gets more and more organized. So outside people say, oh my God, it's like a machine. But actually, when you're doing it, it's quite comfortable, particularly when it's in the winter and spring. But we should disturb that, because if you don't disturb it,

[37:10]

You get feeling, ah, my practice is quite good, nothing disturbs me. But all we have to have is a few guests come down, and you're disturbed. Our guests are wonderful people. They shouldn't disturb us. But, you know, I understand what happens. The rhythm of practicing here is disturbed, and so you... and we're quite busy. But when you really have your calmness of mind, almost nothing can disturb you. But the more you have that kind of stability, the more you're in a situation which is unstable, because everybody can bring their instability to you, and particularly if you live in the city. It's a quite mixed-up life. So then you have to, you know, you can't say, ah, I've acquired some You have to continue your practice, continue your asasana, absorbing the disturbances. Not repressing or suppressing, of course, but some way of including everything in a big field, you know. And eventually our practice is without effort. It's just an expression of our nature.

[38:35]

I shouldn't say nature, but an expression of... we can't say this or that, just an expression, but it feels complete, most complete. And then everything feels like an expression of it, whatever you do, whatever kind of activity you take. Any one more question? You know. Well, that's a... That kind of problem we have and there's no, you know, easy answer. You have to work with that yourself and find out. I mean, it's like trying to pick up all the broken glass on the street or all the candy wrappers, you know. I mean, at some point you have to stop and say, well, you know,

[40:41]

you have to pass by a few candy wrappers, particularly if you're right beside the person who just dropped it. So you can do that too. It's a rather interesting experience. I mean, at some point, this kind of thing we work with. And I know, one student at Zen Center, quite a few years ago, in maybe 1962, brought a cat into the building we used to be in the city. And the cat had fleas. And pretty soon there were fleas everywhere. You'd go into the Suzuki Roshi's office and there were fleas jumping up on your knees and really they were just jumping all over. So one day I found Suzuki Roshi had the person who brought the cat in spraying to get rid of the fleas. At that time we didn't know that spray was so... He didn't know anyway that spray was so... which is a bad guy. And I took some disagreement with Suzuki Roshi. I said, those are... I said something rather marvellous like, you know, we shouldn't break anything we can't put back together, meaninglessly, you know. We shouldn't destroy anything like that. It's so marvellous. And he just said, well, maybe we have to kill him.

[42:08]

And it was a rather difficult problem for me. But you can't, you know, it's... I don't say, I mean, some people stretch Buddhism to justify killing. But I don't think you can stretch it to justify killing. But there is always some killing. We are killing ourselves in many ways. And if you eat vegetables, you know, if you just buy fruit, you know, or vegetables, Some farmer has killed something to make that vegetable, if only because he's cleared the land and cut down the trees. You know, there's no way to avoid some killing. And animals kill each other, you know. So, exactly where we draw the line, you have to figure out, you know. Here, for some reason, the overall decision has been, well, we'll kill the flies, some of the flies. Late in the summer, you wouldn't believe we'd ever kill the one. They crawl into your ears, and you don't move, and they crawl back out, and they crawl into your nose. It's quite interesting. But we try not to, and we try not to kill the snakes, the rattlesnakes. We try to capture them and bring them to another valley. Anyway, you have to figure out

[43:35]

that kind of problem yourself. There's no avoiding some killing. Your emotions get stronger and stronger? This kind of question it's better to discuss directly with me, because the reason is, is because everybody will have a different interpretation of what I say, of what we mean by emotion and what's happening now in their practice. And if I say, in your practice such and such happens as what you think are your emotions change, and what kind of actual experience, what level at which we imagine our life occurs. So then people get involved in trying to, oh, that's interesting, I'll do that. So I understand what you're saying, and it's a rather real problem.

[44:57]

But it's like any such problem, it requires you to find that which you are, which is bigger than whatever you produce. That's too mechanical to say it that way, but maybe it helps a little to say it that way. The other side of wisdom has several... Wisdom is closely related to, as I said, skillful means. It's also the same as compassion. And wisdom and compassion, we can't just have understanding, there has to be the inclusion of everybody in our practice, of everything in our practice. I'm you and you're me. And when you enter that solitude I talked about, that seclusion, which nobody can enter, that calmness of mind and emptiness in which there's no form, you find how much you include everyone. Thank you very much.

[46:26]

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