Good morning. Seven days and we're just getting started. Someone reminded me that in one of Luke's books, at the end of seven days, The teacher says, well, it's going so well, we'll have another seven. It's also wonderful to end things. You know, every time I speak, I tell you everything I know. I don't leave anything out. You make me know something.

[01:23]

actually, or feel something, and so I say that. But when I look at what I talked about during this session, I talked about quite a few things, maybe more than you can apprehend all at once, because maybe some things are unfamiliar and we should really concentrate on what's familiar to us. There's no sense trying to make some effort to understand what's unfamiliar. Do we have a visitor? That's like the story, Setpo and Tozan story, and the Rinzai and Huang Po story. It doesn't matter whether Setpo understood at that time or not. The important thing, Tozan offered something to Setpo, and Setpo eventually understood.

[02:48]

And the stories are offered to us, and that continued for us, because through the kindness, through the genius of the patriarchs, they offer these stories to us, which we don't understand, but we will eventually. So when Joshu put, Seppo put the firewood down, and Tozan asked, How much does it weigh? How heavy is it? And Seppo said, No one in the whole world can lift it. And Tozan said, What about, okay, but what about restoring sight to my eyes? And the other story, you know, Rinzai and Huang Po going to the field and, where is your matic? Someone else is carrying it. No one can lift this one up, said Huang Po. So,

[04:17]

Seppo could have done it too. Rinzai just took it and said, then how come I have it? It doesn't make any difference whether Seppo understood at that time or later or anything. I use genius and kindness of the patriarchs together because I'm, again, in this sasheen, trying to look at how our language reflects the most basic definition of us. Genius and kindness are the same word again. Gene and kind come from the same word, and it seems to be that the through your guardian angel, through this power, you see things as they are. So you see the order of nature. And the order of nature makes everything in kind or kindred. So you have humankind. Everything

[05:40]

Human is humus or earth or humble and similar. The genius to see the similarity or the identity of each of us. And so you have kindness and care. There's a Japanese poem which goes something like, from the splinters of a cherry tree, you cannot find or make a cherry blossom. Only the sky of spring can make a cherry bloom.

[06:43]

And today I'm trying to talk about the sky of spring. I want to introduce you to more of your own history. You know, if you're climbing a mountain and you get stuck, as there's a wonderful episode of John Muir being stuck on the face of a mountain, which occurs in a Mike McClure poem, too. I think it's a McClure poem. And he's completely frozen. and he doesn't know how to move in any direction. And suddenly something takes over and he moves with great precision and clarity on tiny things up the face. That's, you might say, a situation of real choice. And we need to be in that kind of situation more. To be religious means

[08:21]

I think a religious person is someone who puts their life always in the context of life and death, not in the context of human society or their own personal history. Excuse me, but religious, all right, religious comes from, to bind. or to re-bind, to re-acknowledge your unity with God, or with where you came from, or your source, which was presumably severed when you had physical birth. Pacho means leechline religion, and rely And to leap and wedlock. It's interesting, they're together. To make some marriage, but to leap also. So we're talking about this entrance, this readiness. You can't come to a point of

[09:50]

can't come to a point of commitment by forcing it. And some kind of special experience may be helpful, but basically commitment, the deep turning which allows you to become one, Two is another saying. Two is always two, but one is many. As long as you're ambivalent, it's just two things. But when you're one thing, your strength reaches to everything. The deep turning that allows commitment or resolve to your own, we can say, inner process, to the context of life and death, to rebinding, is very close to enlightenment itself.

[11:04]

And some of you, I think, are looking for some, not just some satori experience, which that kind of insight is very helpful, that kind of opening. But satori experience is essentially an opening to the opportunity to make a commitment. To the recognition for, the recognition that your companions are waiting for you. That your companions are waiting for you. But some of you, you know, have partly from acid and books and things, you're waiting for the great white light or something, you know. But that's like tennis or some sport, you know. That's helpful, actually. And if you practice meditation long enough with

[12:12]

well, maybe right to practice long enough, you'll understand anything that happens to human beings. But some people have an inclination, like some people are good at tennis, some people are good at mystic experiences. And actually each of us, if you meditate again, if your practice is thorough, will find you have certain ways in which you can practice with others that are more effective by your own, because of your own tendencies. But to think that you don't have a chance to practice until you have some mystic experience is not right. Just to keep making yourself ready to make yourself a vehicle which crosses over, emptying yourself. The way we write a poem, a poem is maybe a very personal, very intimate expression of ourself that everyone has a few in a drawer somewhere.

[13:43]

Yet, how does a poem actually occur? It's when you're empty, and suddenly the situation colors you. Suddenly you're ready for something that you didn't know, and it flashes across you. You can't have forced it, but craft is an important part of it, but talent is not so important. As I started to say a while ago, like Cézanne, who was such a great painter. Probably Cézanne changed European painting forever, and everybody, Picasso and everybody, comes from Cézanne. But Cézanne wasn't very talented. He couldn't draw very well at all. But he had enormous craft, and that craft made him ready to see things. So in Japan and China, too, the emphasis is not on talent at all, but craft, how to prepare yourself. Not even how you do the bowl, but how you prepare yourself. So Zen, too, is how we prepare ourselves, how we become a vehicle.

[14:58]

And the statement which Suzuki Roshi made over and over again, and Kadagiri Roshi and other teachers, just sit, [...] means become a vehicle, become a vehicle, become a vehicle. If you're on that cliff in a situation of real choice, and you're stuck there, you will see things you never saw before. Tiny root, little tiny stone, ledge, some curve to the surface that looked straight before, and your hand will become enormously sensitive at finding some way to adjust your weight and move your body upwards or downwards. It's the difference between the Boy Scouts and a Bodhisattva or Santa Claus and Avalokiteshvara.

[16:25]

description is the same, you know, but detail is different. And it's one of the interesting changes that occurs to us if we practice. It's not just the many ways we turn around or find some new way to live or change our life. But the way in which, the ways we've come to to live, the early decisions we've made, suddenly become something we can act on in great detail. The quality of our experience is so different, it's as different as Santa Claus and Avalokiteshvara. And it comes from having that kind of observation when you're stuck on a cliff. You know, the many Zen stories about what do you do when there's a tiger up there and jagged peaks below and you're hung by a rope on a loose tooth or something like that. What do you do? Call the dentist.

[17:57]

Anyway, that kind of detail is necessary. And just as you have a history, as I said, you know, That person who first reacts has its own history. He always acts with anger about such and such, or with relief about such and such. And then the observer always has, maybe has a more changing perspective. Sometimes he thinks this is good, sometimes he thinks it's not so good. And that has a history. But these are conceptual histories, you know. And your body also has... We can say your body, I don't... maybe I mean the sky of spring has its own history. Your body or your hand. A hand, a man, maybe the basic word for man is man, in most or many languages. And it means, I guess, hand.

[19:30]

intelligence of the hand which makes us what we are, not our conceptual ability. Thinking, you know, thinking at base seems to be when you, I've pointed this out before, when you take away ego, when you take away fear, thinking is mostly gratitude. observation with some gratefulness. And thank and think are the same word. Thankfulness and think are the same word. Maybe the antidote to the Rand Corporation and all those places is a thank tank. New Bodhisattva thank tank. Doing good works. I'm afraid it wouldn't go over very big. I'm going to suggest it to Ellsberg, though, since he's retired from the Rand Corporation. He started Think Tank. See what he says. He lives near Green Gulch, you know.

[21:00]

And Pat wants to come to Zazen at Green Gate. You with us? So I'm talking about this other history you have, which is a non-conceptual history. I don't know, my words are not so good, but I think you'll understand what I mean. So there's several ways we can observe things.

[22:04]

And I suggested the other day, everything in its own rhythm. Everything in its own rhythm. This is a kind of way to observe things. And maybe it's rather a calm way. So, I'd like to suggest that you try as a practice, observing things with some calmness. without expecting anything. Just, you know, the famous phrase, snow in a silver bowl has some calm feeling. Just observing things, the steam coming off the roofs when the sun comes up or on the plastic windows. without any thought, just an empty vehicle. Next way I'd like to suggest is that you view things with some depth, with some deep feeling, where there's no boundaries.

[23:33]

where you maybe have to feel it, but it's so many facets, it's endless. So when you look at something, you have a feeling for the depth of it. Something you evoke. Something, some endless feeling when you observe something. You can't find its boundaries. Third is to view things as a mystery, as unexplainable.

[24:35]

as not beyond comprehension, to allow things to, first of all, to stop the motor explanation, explanatory mode that starts immediately to try to explain. Not to just view the unexplainable as unexplainable, but stop trying to explain the explainable. Just look at something and feel it. Unlikely, it's mystery. Grief. Some sense of empathy, emotional empathy with the transiency of things. This kind of observation, you know, maybe you do it with your mind a little out of focus and your eyes a little out of focus. You aren't quite trying to grasp things, just gently to apprehend things. This is not just something you do which you hope will turn into a poem quickly, you know.

[26:09]

You do because eventually you're going to understand it. It stays mysterious. It stays sorrowful. You're not going to cheer it up. You're not going to eventually be cheery. It stays deep and without boundaries. It stays calm and unapproachable. We do this maybe as a practice because it is actually a part of our body. It awakens us because we have also a history in this realm. Nakamura Sensei was here, you know, and she taught no chanting. There's various levels of no chanting. And they are very subtle. And part of it is based on the feeling, which comes from Buddhism, that the audience has four sets of ears, something like that.

[28:11]

Maybe one is ears that hear the music, and the music has some rhythm. And another is ears which hear the poem, or the chanting, the meaning. And then there's the ears by which we usually hear things, and then there's the ears of mind or of the sky of spring that knows the mystery of things, that knows the detail on the cliff, that knows some non-conceptual history. And the skill of the playwright is to awaken these four sets of ears. And individually, different parts of the play are meant to bring in these different things. The most difficult chanting, in some plays it's simplified, is when you bring all four sets of ears together in one impact. Wonderfully subtle concept, isn't it? But this comes straight from Buddhism.

[29:41]

When we meet somebody, which set of ears are we speaking to? When we relate to somebody, which history are we speaking to? If you want to awaken these, you find somebody who's waiting for you, or you find out that everyone's waiting for you. We don't know we're waiting. This is Bodhicitta, Bodhisattva's vow. To awaken with everyone. To realize everyone is waiting for you.

[30:45]

When you acknowledge that, you become one, no longer two. And you can act as one in the present precisely. You can act now precisely in terms of your future, our future. the sky of spring, sometimes called the Sambhogakaya. Or I called it yesterday, White Sound, the day before yesterday. And I wasn't kidding. We are White Sound. And some utter

[31:59]

blackness where we can't feel anything, form and emptiness. And we're very creatively playing in this realm. I was talking about the other day matter as mother And ma of matter means good, but it means good in the sense of occurring at the right time, so you get mature. Interesting. So, how to know? Ma, ma, [...] every moment, ma.

[33:03]

Do you understand this sky of spring? It's nothing special. Very difficult to describe, but it's nothing special. Maybe that's what Wang Po was raising up, was the sky of spring. It's amazing the matic didn't blossom up into all kinds of flowers. You know, we do the full moon ceremony as a crossing over like the moon goes through its transition, you know. The Bodhisattva or full moon ceremony is a purification ceremony where you clear yourself out, empty yourself out to be a vehicle for crossing over like the moon.

[35:23]

Nothing special, but we need some emptying, some space-like quality in order to have things blossom. In order, like in the tenth ox-herding picture, he performs no miracles, but he causes withered trees to bloom. how to act in this realm is something you can't do. You can only make yourself ready for. And our practice is a readying, readying. I think Suzuki Roshi says in Zen mind, beginner's mind, a ready mind, Zen mind, ready mind. A ready mind is something, he says. heading the title of one of the sections.

[37:03]

Some of you had some questions the day before yesterday that we didn't get to. Do you still have them? There were four. Were you one of the four? Let's say one of the four first. Okay. There's a little cactus, a little hut with a mural wall. The rains came down, lots and lot of rains. I washed away some of that manure. I put a couple of stones and some wood and started on the walls again. I think around back there's some more walls still. I made this one so good. I continued working on this wall in front. I go around back and look at that manure back there. What's the difference between bells and toolbox? Why did you build a house of shit in the first place? It's good the rains came.

[38:58]

I'm trying to carry too much metal in to advance my drafts. No. We talked about that once on a four and nine day, didn't we? Till five o'clock or something. But I was. rather subtle distinction. So I think you should just think about it. Different kind of society. A society based on a contract tends to have professions and explicators of the contract. But a more traditional society has crafts.

[40:32]

and but we could talk about it some other time yes I don't know I can't How does he not have a real choice? Maybe you should go up on Flag Rock and stay there. Yeah, what's interesting about it is when you're in a situation of real choice, you're no longer making the choice. Something else takes over. Whenever you're in a situation of choice, of you can make a choice, it's some shilly-shally. What would you suggest?

[41:53]

Well, it's a situation of choice. There are thousands of choices, whether you go up or down or sideways or over that way or straight up. How you make the decision, maybe you don't make it so logically, but you make a decision, or something makes a decision. more great embraces of awareness that we can advocate, advocate for you all. Well, it's various stages, you know. We're talking about the situation in which you don't have to acknowledge anything. There's ways. There's no price. Things don't count.

[44:02]

and then when you find out. I don't know, I think it must be clear. But when you look at choice or decision deeply, you have to enter it through considering choice or decision. But when you enter it deeply, you see that there's no choice. Choice means no choice. But I can't say no choice without the word choice. And it's like that mountain. You'll see more and more. You examine choice or commitment and you find there's the sky of spring or something. But you yourself must have had that experience. I talked about this a year ago in San Francisco for three or four talks. But you find yourself, when you made the decision to, I don't know what, go to college or not, or leave home or something,

[45:34]

It just came upon you what to do. You can't choose, and finally you go out for a walk and you feel something. You had no choice. I did it. When you really made a decision, you say, I did it. I had no choice. But there's some preparation. Some getting ready for choice, like getting ready for writing a poem. Yes. I spend a lot of time thinking about 46% proof. But the other part of that is, it's just like you say,

[46:58]

That's right, snuck up on you. Yeah. Some of you are already surrounded. You've been snuck up on thoroughly. And some of you think you're very involved and no one has snuck up on you at all. Buddhism hasn't really snuck up on you. But I don't, you know, I'm talking about commitment. But I don't mean commitment to Zen Center or even Buddhism. I mean that The fact of our existence, or the fact that we have to decide, does it matter, eventually has to come through to us. I don't care what you do, you can do anything, but this you have to do. Everyone has to. Otherwise you live like a hollow shell, just two, never one.

[48:31]

And as I suggested, you know, there's three, if as a member of the Sangha, who becomes one, you know, with the Sangha, there's maybe three possibilities. Staying to manifest, to thoroughly manifest Zen, or to practice in a, some profession or line of work or present-day situation, returning things to their source, or to start out with some way of life that hasn't been done yet, trying to find some alternative way of life. I think these are three. There's a fourth, of course, which is to go back to whatever you were doing before you came here. That's a little hard to do completely. Some people manage it okay. People seem to be the three princes of Zen Center. No. Well, they could be. Maybe Zen Center gives some preparation for those three. But in rather embryonic form,

[50:02]

Everyone can't stay in Zen Center. It would be not fair to other people, too. If everyone stayed here, it would be too self-contained.

[50:19]

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