Thank you, Alan. Good morning, everybody. It's a real honor and a pleasure to be asked to speak at Berkeley Zen Center. So I'd like to thank Alan and also Sojin Roshi, who unfortunately is not here this morning, for the invitation. I'd like to talk about monastic life because that's what I know best. But before I do that, I'd also like to speak about some very basic principles of Zen and the Dharma. Some time ago I was walking out of Zen Center where I live in San Francisco on my way to give a talk at another local Zen Center and another resident was coming up the stairs just as I was leaving. And she asked me, oh, where are you going? And when I told her I was going to give a talk at a center, she said, well, what are you going to talk about?

[02:53]

And I explained, oh, just some very basic principles of Zen. And she said, you know, I can never get enough of that. And that's pretty much how I feel as well, that over the years, even though I've been doing this for a long time, The very basic principles, it seemed like I could never hear them enough from my master. So I'd like to talk a little bit about Zen and the Dharma. And I'm planning to speak for about 45 minutes or so, and there will be time for questions, if you wish, or afterwards as well. So you're welcome to ask any questions. Zen is a word that I think even on a daily basis we could come across reading the newspaper or magazine or in the media, not to mention advertising. I walk to work every day in San Francisco and twice a day I pass a store which is selling Zen.

[04:03]

They have a big advertisement, it's either a decal or it's probably a decal or painted on the outside window facing the street. for a product, and it's a product which I would not buy, so it's hard for me to remember what it says underneath, but it says something like, crystal peeling, cellulite waxing, from which I infer that Zen, in this case, is a cosmetic for skin care. Or, not long ago, I was in Manhattan, driving through town, with a Japanese colleague, and off in the distance we saw Zen palette, P-A-L-A-T-E. And he wanted to know, he doesn't speak English that well, he could see Zen clearly, but he didn't understand palette, and he said, well, what's that? And we were actually too far away for me to clearly see what it was, but I said, well, it's probably a restaurant, vegetarian Japanese food.

[05:07]

I might be wrong, but very likely that's what it was. So I'd like to say that many, many people who even have no idea what Zen is, or even if they have an idea of what it is, that doesn't mean they know what it is. So I was thinking that if, for example, someone at work or a friend of a friend, for example, or maybe your nephew or niece were to ask you, they know that you're coming to the Berkeley Zen Center and sitting Zazen. You've been doing it for years. If they were to ask you, well, what is Zen? No doubt, many of you could give a good answer. But in case there are one or two of you who aren't really sure what you would say in that situation, we can get a good hint of what to say from the Chinese character which is used to write this word and has been used for centuries in China, Korea, and Japan.

[06:14]

And if we look at this character, it is actually comprised of two different characters. The one on the left means to point at. And the character on the right means one or single. And so from this, we can infer that Zen is a teaching pointing at the underlying or essential oneness of all things. Now, I happen to be staying right now at Green Gulch, and I had breakfast this morning with a young man who actually lives in Oakland, and he was saying that the teacher there always says that, well, Zazen is so wonderful because you can really see that everything is one. Okay, on that level, that's fine. That's great. But what does that really mean? It's my theory, and I could be wrong, anyone is, you can correct me on this if I am wrong, but I have this theory that people who are familiar with a Chinese teaching from the Tao Te Ching, the very famous first words of that teaching which say, the way that can be named is not the way.

[07:33]

I think, are you familiar with that? Or there are many, many different versions of that translation, or the way that can be described is not the way. that people quickly think, well, we can't describe it, so why even try and know what it is? That might also apply to Zen. Well, we'll just sit and hope for the best. But the danger with that is that we'll just go around, it's very likely anyway, we'll just go around and around in our own ideas. And so I would like to suggest that it is important to know what the principles of Zen and the Dharma are. We have a saying in Japanese, mon shi shu, which literally means listening, thinking, practicing, which describes a certain procedure or order of really entering the practice.

[08:34]

So okay, pointing at the essential oneness of all things, what does it mean? In this way, we hear the teaching. Somewhere we have heard or read the teaching. But then, ideally, we think about that. What does that mean? And then, hopefully not too far away, there's somebody that we can ask. and find out what's the idea, what does that mean, everything is one. And then you think about it some more. And then, if you don't understand, you ask again and think and ask. And then, when you really understand the principles of practice, you really dive into it and just go straight without worrying about, well, is it really going to happen or what's going to happen? And so on. So I'd like to suggest that idea of listening, thinking, really using your head.

[09:38]

And by the way, in Japan, we point here. And then practicing is really, well, if possible, the best way to go. This matter of pointing at the oneness of all things, this is the oneness that Shakyamuni Buddha discovered. about 2,500 years ago. There isn't time really to go into his whole story, and I'm sure many of you are familiar with it, but I would like to speak a little bit about his story. As we know, he was born a prince in a small kingdom in what is now present-day Nepal, and so I always imagined that he had everything he wanted. I was thinking the other day, he certainly wouldn't have had an iPod, for example, because that didn't exist at that time. But he had everything that he wanted at that time.

[10:43]

So he had wealth. We know he had a family. He was married, had a child. He was on track to be the king. So in other words, he had everything that most people would very much like to have, especially if they don't have those things. family, wealth, and influence, power. But for him, what happened was that those things were not enough to keep away a kind of nagging question, which had probably been with him since he was young, and that question had to do with human suffering. And how could he bring an end, or how could he resolve human suffering? Finally, that question was so strong that he was compelled to leave behind his family and leave behind his responsibility to be the next king of that kingdom.

[11:48]

And I think that would have been a terrifically difficult thing to do. Nevertheless, he did do that, and he probably had to escape at night. They certainly wouldn't have just let him walk out the gate in daylight with that aspiration. In any case, he became a monk, and we know that he studied with two well-known, at least two well-known students, or excuse me, teachers at that time. At that time, and even still now in India, one of the main ideas of practice is what we call aesthetic practice. And the idea there is that by harming or injuring, physically injuring the body, that by enduring and persevering through that pain, that it's possible to let go of the egoistic self. And he did this so single-mindedly that he later said, after two or three years of doing that, that nobody

[12:50]

past, present, or future would ever do this kind of ascetic practice as single-mindedly as he did, which is quite a statement. Even now, and I'm not very familiar, I'm not a scholar of this, but we know in India there are all sorts of unusual, cruel and unusual practices. practices that people do to themselves. But he realized that no matter how much he were to hurt his body, that even to the point of death, that that itself would not be a resolution. That was not going to be the resolution that he was seeking. So once again, he was compelled to continue on his own. And he went off on his own and sat beneath a tree that we now call the Bodhi Tree. And he made a vow that he would not leave that place until there was an awakening. Either that or he was going to perish there. And so we were taught that he was there for six years.

[13:57]

And in the process, he didn't know about Zazen. He didn't know about what we call the Dharma, at least in the sense that we use it in Buddhism. Probably that word existed then at that time in India, I don't know, but not in the way that we use it in Buddhism. So that's to say that he was really on his own. And probably, we use the expression in Japanese, groping in the dark. All he knew was he had to resolve that question. That was his only, And in the process of doing that, of grappling, really grappling with this question, he emptied himself. I'm familiar with the expression of wringing himself out, just like a towel, just wringing himself out.

[15:00]

In the process of doing that for six years, he emptied himself to the extent that one morning when he looked up in the sky and saw the morning star, at that instant, the light of that star and Shakyamuni Buddha, actually it was called Siddhartha Gautama at that time, the light of the star and Siddhartha Gautama became one. And at that instant of becoming one, they disappeared. And in essence, this was his awakening. This was his liberation from human suffering. For many years, he had no doubt, he had seen that star, but it was on that morning, and traditionally we say it was December the 8th, at that instant, it was just an instant, there was this oneness. At that time, it is said that he said various things. For example, he said, I and all things are one.

[16:02]

So this is the oneness that Zen is pointing at, this realization that he had at that instant. I and all things are one. Heaven, earth and I are of the same source. Very famous saying in Zen. And he also said, the very last words of the Heart Sutra, and I'm sure many of you are familiar with these words, gate gate para gate parasam gate bodhi svaha. And there are various interpretations of this. The one that I'm most familiar with is that he said, it's done. this exclamation of joy, I've done it, I've gone across, it's finished. It was almost as if he couldn't believe it, and yet he had done it. But one important thing that he said at that time was, not only me, but all sentient beings also crossed over at that time, in that instant. Past, present, and future.

[17:09]

So in essence, this was his guarantee at that instant, that for example, those of us who are here right now, our condition is exactly the same as the awakened, liberated state of Shakyamuni Buddha 2,500 years ago. That is eternal, that does not change. So it's also important to say that Zen, while it's a teaching pointing at the oneness, that essential oneness of all things, it is also a practice that we each do individually to really personally verify that yes, all things are one. that we also are in this state of total peace and freedom, also known as nirvana, right now. That is our practice. And I think it's important to emphasize that the practice is a matter of verification, that this is something that each of us must do for ourselves.

[18:22]

Now I'd just like to say one other thing about the dharma, and by the way, dharma, this word dharma, or we also use words like the way, or zen, or nirvana, or another word is samadhi. There are many, many words, emptiness, nothingness, and so on. These words are all pointing at the same thing, and that is this essential underlying oneness that is our, inherent condition. Now there are said to be three seals of the Dharma, three aspects of the Dharma that never change. And I'd just like to quickly go through that. The first one is that everything is impermanent. And I'm sure many of you are familiar with this. Everything is impermanent, which is to say that everything is constantly changing. The image that comes to me is like a river that's constantly flowing, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. But nevertheless, it's never flowing upstream.

[19:27]

It's always going downstream. And it seems almost as if we're standing on the riverbank, watching that river go by. But an important part of the teaching is that this also, since everything is one, this is also changing, too. This is also impermanent, which is to say that the person who got up this morning at 6 o'clock or 7 o'clock or whatever time and the person right now at 10.30 are different people. We usually don't think of it like that, but if we look very, very closely We come to the second seal of the Dharma, which is that things essentially have no self-nature, which is to say that, for example, this piece of wood here. It's not possible to take that piece of wood, this piece of wood apart and find something called wood inside of it.

[20:33]

All we would find are smaller and smaller elements. And traditionally, in Buddhism, we say there are four basic elements, earth, air, water, fire. And now, in this day and age, we know that those elements are also comprised of smaller and smaller elements. But nevertheless, if we were to take something in part, we could not find that thing like wood inside of it. That also applies to this thing. It's not possible to find me in this hand or this shoulder or this chest or even this head. It's just not there. It's not there. Even though we're firmly convinced that somewhere it's in here, right? We wake up every morning and it's, this is me, right? It's there, but if we were to look very, very closely, it's not possible to find what we usually think of as me.

[21:40]

I think an interesting thing to think about is that if in fact everything is one, and if in fact everything is impermanent and constantly changing, That also, as I said, applies to this. And so, it's not really possible for us to stand on the riverbank and watch the river flow by. Actually, that thing, this thing itself, is changing just as quickly. And so, the image that comes to me is if we were to dive into that river, we would always be in the same spot. And that comes to the third corollary, or the third seal of the Dharma, that the moment now is a condition of peace and liberation, sometimes called nirvana. This ties in with that guarantee that Shakyamuni Buddha made when he realized his awakening.

[22:45]

As human beings, we can only think of the past or the future. It's just not possible to think of the moment now. Not even the Buddha can do that. And the reason is that the instant we perceive now, it's already gone. And so, I think a lot of us are kind of, we kind of realize it and we kind of don't realize it, but most of us live our lives either in the past or the future. Either we're tied up in knots about something we'd like to change that already happened, although we know we can't do it, but nevertheless we think we could or hope we could. Or else we worry about something that might happen in the future, even though we know the future by definition is unknown. So another definition of Zen, if you want another one, just to tell that person if they ever ask you, is that Zen is really to make the moment now your own.

[24:00]

I'd like to say a few words about monastic life in Japan. But before I do that, I'd really like to say I'm very supportive of lay practice. So I don't want you to get the idea that it's only possible to practice in a Zen monastery in Japan. That's not the case. Nevertheless, I did that for a long time and since most of you have not had that experience, I'd like to say a little bit about what Zen practice is like in a Zen monastery. In present-day Japan, there are about 30 monasteries. I think three of them are nunneries, especially for women. There are of different sizes. The two biggest ones have about 200 people, 200 monks.

[25:16]

But most of them are quite small, 10 people or less. Some of them only have two or three people, so that's to say they're actually quite small. The monastery where I was for many years, often there were between 20 and 25 monks. there have been women there for most of the time I've been there, there have always been lay people. So there is a mix of people there, although the main group were monks. There have always been Westerners there. When I arrived there in 1976, there were already five Westerners there. And at one point, I was thinking back, there was an equal number of Western monks and Japanese monks. I think there were 11 of each. I think it was 1979 or something like that. And since that time, the Western monk population has declined. And right now, I think there's only one person, one German monk there.

[26:18]

There are two primary functions of a monastery, in Japan at any rate. The first one, and I think the one of most importance, is to foster awakening. I think that's really the main function of a monastery, but to be very honest, actually the second function has become more important for many people in Japan, and that function has to do with training monks so that they can become priests at a temple in Japan. And as I said, there are 30 monasteries, but there's in a neighborhood of 14 to 15,000 sotos and temples in Japan. So of course, traditionally, each one of those would have a head priest. And in order to become a head priest, you have to have a certain amount of training at a monastery. So monks would come to a monastery, receive a certain training and education, and then go on their way and become a head priest somewhere in Japan.

[27:29]

I heard the other day that there are 22,000 registered monks, sotos and monks in Japan. And 1,000 of them are women, if anybody's interested. I think some of you are interested. Okay, the life at my monastery, my monastery, by the way, is called Hoshinji. We're not very far from Kyoto. If you're familiar with Japan, that's more or less in central Japan, located about 50 miles away from Kyoto on the Japan Sea. So if you were to go straight to the Japan Sea from Kyoto, you would come more or less to the small town where we are located. On the edge of a small town, Very quiet, beautiful little place. One reason I didn't leave for all those years was it was such a beautiful environment. That was not the only reason, but one of the reasons.

[28:34]

We have a very traditional life, very quiet, no television, of course, no stereos and so on, no telephone. We grow a lot of our own food, and for a lot of the time I was there, I was in charge of our big organic vegetable garden. We make our own umeboshi, for example, the salted plums that Japanese people are fond of in the morning. Our own takuan, the salted pickles, miso, and so on. There are four major elements of the life. Sitting zazen, which we do quite a bit of. Ceremonies in different forms on a daily basis, which would include the morning, afternoon, and evening sutras.

[29:36]

Or on a weekly basis, a monthly basis, or a yearly basis. Various different ceremonies. There is a lot of work. In fact, work is the main thing we do there. I mentioned the garden. We cut our own wood, chop it, carry it. A lot of work that has to be done around the temple grounds to keep it in shape. Very seasonal, depending on the season. Could be sweeping the garden. It might be weeding the garden in the winters, shoveling snow, for example. And the fourth element is what we call takuhatsu. And for lack of a better word, that would be translated as begging. And the monastery where I'm from is actually dependent on the alms or the money that we collect from begging. And in the fall, we go especially in the neighboring villages, in the mountains there for rice.

[30:44]

We receive about, Oh, I think we don't even need to buy rice anymore. We receive so much rice. So you see, we're actually quite self-sufficient that way. Not only is Hoshinji a monastery, it is also a temple. And as a temple, the main function is to maintain the cemetery. And there is a certain group of people, which in Japanese we call the donka, which for lack of a better word would be like the congregation of a Christian church. It's a little bit different idea, but nevertheless, there is a certain group of families who support that temple. In fact, they are responsible for the upkeep, the maintenance of the actual physical buildings. But their main interest is not in Zazen. In fact, I can't, well, I can't even think of one of them who comes to Siddhartha. Their main interest is in the ancestors and that we perform various memorial services, funerals, memorial services, and other services around the grave and so on.

[32:02]

We have six, or actually seven sesshin a year. So we do quite a bit of sesshin. And two practice periods of about 100 days each. And just to finish off here, I'd like to mention a Chinese poem of four lines, which I think expresses quite well the attitude, shall I say, of practice in a monastery. And it goes like this. Meeting on the same boat for the practice period. Each of us is here to study non-doing. This is a place to create Buddhas, making the mind empty, and returning to the source.

[33:05]

I've always liked this image of meeting on the same boat. In actual fact, at the monastery where I am, there's not much difference in schedule. Well, there's a bit of a difference in schedule, but the actual flavor of the monastic life is not that much different between the practice period and the time in between. Nevertheless, we always have a tea at the beginning of, the practice period, where the various duties for that practice period are announced, including the shuso and so on. And there is this feeling, yeah, well, okay, once again, we're embarking together. And I've always liked this image of on the same boat, which gives me the feeling, yes, that, okay, we're going to follow the captain. That's the master. We're going to do what he says. There's no doubt about that. We're all agreeing to follow the rules, even if we've been there a long time.

[34:09]

Because if people start not following the rules, that could rock the boat. That would be potentially dangerous for other people if we're on a boat and we're crossing a stretch of water. So we're going to follow the rules. And there's also this image that we're all going the same direction. We have the same objective. Each of us is here to study non-doing. Now this concept of non-doing is, for Westerners, something that you're not familiar with unless you have been studying Zen. It's a very Eastern concept. But in the well-known Heart Sutra, for example, we have no eyes, no ears, no nose, no tongue, no body, no consciousness, right? You're familiar with that, right? No sight, no sound, no smell, no taste, no object. No touch, no object of mind.

[35:11]

So what does that really mean? Not to mention this teaching of no self. Well, what does that mean? No eyes, well, who's seeing? And who's tasting? And who's touching? And so on. Really to look and explore into that matter. What does that mean, no self? This is a place to create Buddhas. It's an irony, not an irony, but a paradox, actually, that in Buddhism, we are guaranteed that everybody and everything has Buddha nature or is Buddha nature, as I've already explained. But at the same time, we say nobody is born a Buddha. And this tension, this opposition, this contrast or paradox was, for example, for Dogen Zenji,

[36:15]

the major question and driving force in his practice. How can it be that all of the sutras say that we have the Buddha nature, and yet we know that all of the people who have transmitted the Dharma over the centuries, and there have been many, all of these people have practiced so single-mindedly. Why is that? For him, that was what really compelled him to leave Japan because no one in Japan could answer that question. So he went to China. He had to go to China to find out. So there is this paradox, shall we say. And we come to the fourth line that says, making the mind empty. and returning to the source. And here there is, again, an opposition to the second line, this idea of non-doing or non-self.

[37:21]

There's this idea here of making effort, making the mind empty. Yes, there is some effort involved there. And my master is fond of using the expression of grinding up Zazen. So by actually doing Zazen, and it's unavoidable, we have to begin, somebody's doing Zazen, but in the process of doing that, of really grinding that Zazen up to powder, making that powder so fine that Zazen disappears, making the mind empty and returning to that source, returning to that original empty mind, which is our, well, should I say it's our birthright? It is. But to really make it our own, it's going to require some effort, and that's what it's all about, this matter of practice, of actually doing it and then verifying it for yourself that, in fact, everything is one.

[38:39]

How long have I been talking? Well, I don't know, but are we okay, Alan, with time? Sure. Okay, so if you have any questions, really feel free. You can ask anything about what I said or didn't say. Please. Yeah, I actually did leave the monastery about a year and three months ago. Right, that was not an easy decision to make. Over the years, I had considered leaving periodically, but when I considered my alternatives, I always thought, well, this is the best place to be, and so I never did leave. The reason I left is that I was offered a job in San Francisco. It's such a great town. That's one reason. Another reason is that my master, Harada Roshi, was offered a job in Italy, and he asked me to go with him to Italy, but that turned out not to happen, and so I was offered this job.

[39:49]

For me, it was a chance to, and it is an ongoing chance, to get acquainted with American Zen, if there is such a thing, and I think there is. It was an attractive possibility to live at the Zen Center in San Francisco. And it just seemed like an honorable way to leave. Yeah. Please. At that monastery in Japan, was it the assumption that the monks there would stay on indefinitely, that that would be their life? Or that they were there for a period of training before becoming temple priests or some combination? Is it kind of okay to just stay there and be there forever and that's your life? It's very unusual to stay forever. That rarely happens. And I think it's a great credit to the monastery that I stayed so long. That's very unusual. And by the way, there were, I think, four Westerners who stayed longer than 20 years. So I wasn't the only one.

[40:53]

On an average, the Japanese stay for about one or two years. Actually, that changed drastically while I was there. The first 10 or 15 years I was there, it seemed like we were all in it for the long term. but then gradually some of the diehard people left, more of the people who were just interested in getting a certain qualification appeared, and so that average amount of time has become smaller. But let me say that when people are brought in, to the genkan, the entrance of the monastery, and they're asked, well, why did you come here? Traditionally, we were asked to say, are you willing to stay here until you realize your buddha nature? Now, we don't even have to ask that. We don't have to make it difficult for the person. So that has changed, even while I've been there.

[42:01]

Elm. In some discussion in my household, impermanence, non-self, and the traditional formulation is dukkha, or unsatisfactory. Thich Nhat Hanh, writing about this, talked about it, the third seal, as nirvana, as you did. I think there's advantages to both, but I think it's a, my understanding is that's a somewhat radical framing, and I wonder what you have to say about it. Yeah, traditionally we were taught those must have come from China. The third one, nehan jakujo in Japanese literally means nirvana, quiet, stillness. So I guess it's a matter of how you interpret nirvana. Is that a possibility?

[43:03]

I have seen... I actually don't think so. of reality. You can look at it as suffering. In a way, Nirvana makes a lot of sense. To me, it makes complete sense in the way I've formulated it. If there's no self, there's no suffering. What Shakyamuni realized at that time is that he had been creating that suffering by It's through our own identity with this body as me that we create that separation. That separation doesn't exist. And he realized at that instant that there never had been a separation. So that's how I understand it. I'll let it go. I'd like to talk with you. Okay, we can talk about it later. Please. Can you talk about differences between the practice here and in Japan, both among the monastics and the lay people here that are practicing?

[44:25]

Yes, well, I don't, to tell the truth, I still haven't gotten around and seen so many different forms. So, the Zen Center is what I primarily use to measure it, so with that qualification. To tell the truth, I mean, I feel very comfortable there, especially in the morning, because the form is very, very similar to the form we use in the monastery, until breakfast. And I was going to say, all hell breaks out. That's not true. It's very different after that in the sense that at least in comparison to the monastery where we never speak when we eat, for example. Especially around food and eating, it's very, very loose there at city center. Don't tell them I said that.

[45:30]

You can eat when you want, what you want, and where you want. You can read the newspaper and eat. If you don't want to eat certain things, they'll make, or I shouldn't put it that way. I know that's not politically correct for me to say that, but there are people with allergies, for example, so they have this and that and the other thing. So there is that difference, for example. Well, what can I say? I think this radical idea of no self still hasn't really come in very strongly to American Zen. And so we see that in different ways. Is that enough or? More? Another difference that I feel quite strongly is in terms of the teaching, and I have to say I've never been to practice discussion so I don't know what happens on that level, but in terms of the way the Dharma is presented in this kind of a Dharma talk,

[46:54]

There is quite a difference. Now this probably would vary from center to center, and so I'm talking about the San Francisco Zen Center lineage, but I rarely hear the word Dharma mentioned, for example. We don't hear about the Chinese stories, which in the Japanese tradition are just, you hear them all the time. And there's that difference too. So I feel perhaps there's more of a psychological presentation of the Dharma and so on. And there are other differences. At the same time, there's a great enthusiasm here in America, which is great. Recently I went to a fire arts festival where, I guess, a studio that teaches welding, glass blowing, put on. And one of the performances was a man wearing an apparatus where his hair was literally on fire.

[47:55]

And he was walking around and I couldn't help but think of the statement about that. But I wondered in terms of that, as far as lay practice goes, from your current perspective. Do you have any advice for us lay practitioners in terms of right effort? Yes. One thing I would encourage you to think of Zazen as living within Zazen. So rather than Zazen being just one certain form that we often associate with folded legs facing a wall and sitting on a cushion, that that is just one form of Zazen, and that actually everything in our life is Zazen. So that Zazen, rather than being just one certain thing that we do at one part of our life, that Zazen is actually our whole life, with the idea that Zen is a matter of

[48:56]

closing the gap between yourself and other things. So especially in your work, or even if you're at home, really to be with each activity as much as you can. You use that expression of your hair on fire. That's a very strong image and not one that we can always carry with us. But nevertheless, I would strongly encourage you to think of your whole life as Azen. Also, to be very honest to your own situation, to your own question, because this idea of a question, I mentioned Shakyamuni Buddha or Dogen Zenji. I believe that most of us here come into this practice because we have a question. And to really be honest to that question is important.

[50:01]

And that you don't have to be a monastic to do that. But with the idea that your rather than perhaps trying to solve the question, just to stay with that question and see how it manifests in your everyday life. Please. In thinking about your observation that no self hasn't taken as much root here as it might, and thinking about the differences between particularly the United States and Asian countries and the tremendous stress in our culture that's put on individualism. Is that a major obstacle, do you think, to the idea of no self? I think there's a paradox there that in one way it is and in another way it isn't.

[51:06]

Individualism in the sense of looking out for number one and nobody else. I think a lot of Americans are getting tired of that kind of very self-centered individualism, that it's all right for you to step on anybody's toes as long as you're stronger than somebody else. But on the other hand, individualism is great. our own masters, to really become our own masters and be able to really stand on your own feet right now. That is also, it's a paradox, but it's another kind of individualism that is necessary in practice. And so, I think it depends on the objective and our understanding of individualism. But nevertheless, this very strong self-centered, shall I say, greedy tendency is quite strong in America.

[52:23]

And this is a problem. Yeah. Please. earlier about closing the gap. I was thinking when you were bringing up someone asking what is Zen and answering about the present and the oneness, the oneness nature of things, that to close the gap in that situation it would be good to use the stuff of the present to point to the oneness of things rather than sometimes conversations. Sometimes, you know, this philosophical kind of dialogue can not have as much of an impact as what's at hand. That may be true. One answer for any person would not, it's true, would not work.

[53:27]

That's true. I agree with that. Thank you for your talk. Many of the practices you talked about are at least somewhat familiar to us, except the practice of begging. And you mentioned that whatever rice the monks can't get through begging, they buy. Can you talk a little bit about the practice of begging? Yeah, I think in a real way, we receive everything we have anyway. We often don't think of it that way, but even the chance to work, the opportunity to work is something we receive. Talents that we can use to help other people. I think the idea of work in America too, now we're in a very enlightened place here in Berkeley, right? But a lot of Americans don't have a very, you know, positive idea about work.

[54:28]

It's like a necessary evil, right? But actually, the opportunity to work and to serve other people is a blessing that we receive. So, traditionally, monks in India, all the way going back to India, that was how Shakyamuni Buddha lived. He didn't, he would only take as much food as he could eat in that day, and they would only eat until noon and so on. They would give away what else they received, right? With the idea that the lay people were supporting his practice, but they would not take more than they needed. And I think vicariously there was this feeling, and I think that works in Japan, that people think, yes, I will support these monks. I know they're doing something I cannot do. But by supporting them, that gives them some sustenance in their life in different ways.

[55:30]

But vicariously, they also participate in our practice. So there is this part of it. However, when Buddhism went to China, they were no longer able to bake, it seems, and they were forced to work, forced to grow vegetables, for example, and so on. And I'm not a scholar, I don't know exactly how it turned out. We don't hear Dogen, for example, speaking about takuhatsu much. I might be wrong about that, but in any case, that custom did arise in Japan, there was the custom of not in the way it was done in Southeast Asia, but we would take rice or whatever was given to us, use that, and then go out when we needed it. That later changed into money. That just became more convenient, I guess. And yes, we would save that money, and if we needed to buy rice, then we would buy it, and so on.

[56:30]

OK, Ellen says that's enough, so we're going to close. OK, thanks a lot.

[56:39]

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