1993.05.24-serial.00313

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I'm at the end of a three-week trip and I've never been to Rye, New York before, but because
Susan is here, I'm here, and partly Susan is here because all of you are here, so because
all of you are here, I'm here, otherwise I wouldn't be coming to Rye, New York.
I tend to go where somebody invites me, somebody who I know.
Anyway, in that sense, it's very nice to be here and to be welcomed here, and together
in a group like this, we can create a rather tropical and calm space where we can realize
and know the depth of our life, so that's pretty rare and pretty wonderful.
It's interesting, I did some theater improvisation workshops, it's very much like Zen.
There's one key difference, in theater improvisation, you try to be aware of everything and act
on everything, so if you're aware of anger, then you act angry, if you're aware of fear,
you act afraid, in Zen, you try to be aware of everything and act on nothing.
And they have a certain similarity, because they both emphasize being aware of everything.
And it's very hard to be aware of everything, because in both Zen practice and theater improvisation
will give you a kind of little safety net, and the safety net in Zen is that you don't
do anything, because otherwise, you know, something might come along that you're aware of, and
then you would be, you might feel compelled to do something that got you into trouble.
So you have to be careful what you become aware of, you have to be careful about actually
noticing that you're angry, because you might hit somebody, or you know, you might pick
up something improper, so one is a little cautious about being aware of what's actually
going on in one's being, because you can get in trouble, in the world, and with others.
This is interesting, you know, so in Zen you can afford to be aware of everything that's
going on, because you're not going to do anything, you're just going to sit still.
In theater improvisation, you can be aware of everything and act on everything, because
it's all theater, and then nobody else can say later, why did you say that?
Why did you, why were you acting like that?
That was stupid, that was crazy, the way you were, you say, well that was just theater,
remember?
It's okay, see, so either way you have a little safety, see the rest of our life we have to
be careful, whether we're aware or not, and we try in that sense to only be aware of the
safe things, the things that are safe to be aware of, and not the more painful yearnings
or desires or fears or sorrows or griefs, and so on, because it would be very hard.
You know, it's embarrassing, I left Zen Center finally because I felt like, I didn't feel
like crying in front of people.
I've been at Zen Center for 18 years, and then the longer you stay around, the more sin
you get, and then the more embarrassing it is if you start to cry.
I don't know, you're looking at me like, what's so embarrassing about that?
Well, I felt embarrassed.
Anyway, I lived at the Zen Center, I lived at Tassajara for about 7 or 8 years, I lived
at San Francisco Zen Center for about 10 years, I lived at Green Gulch for a year or two,
and then I became a dropout again.
I stopped being committed, I mean I, let's see, anyway, I was no longer committed, right?
Anyway, I got out into the world, it's been interesting.
It's very hard to be in the world, I noticed.
Now, you all are in the world, so you know how hard it is, right?
See, I didn't know what everybody goes through to try to pay the rent, and you know, the
gasoline and the insurance, and then, you know, have you got your IRA yet?
And property values are going up every year, you probably try to get in there before they
go higher, and so on, you know, it's not easy.
And then you have to drive places, and you know, get yourself about it, and then there's
traffic jams.
Anyway, I found it really difficult.
After 18 years, you know, for 18 years, all the bills were paid.
What a life, huh?
You should try it sometime.
You don't get a lot of disposable income out of the deal.
You know, room and board and $50 a month, and then it went up to room and board and
$75 a month.
Now, you can go to Greenbelch, you get room and board, and you can get like $200 a month
or something.
Times have changed.
Good Zen students are hard to find.
They're not as cheap to come by anymore.
It used to be like people would work for nothing.
Now, to be a Zen student, you have to pay them to be a Zen student.
And here, you all do it for nothing.
This is pretty nice.
You know, it shows your heart is in the right place.
Because you're not doing this like it's a job or something.
That's pretty nice.
I'll tell you a few stories tonight.
I don't know, you know, I don't have profound things to say, right?
And there's not that much that's...
I mean, there's not that much you haven't heard yet, right?
You've heard all this stuff, you know, and so what difference has it made?
And I don't have anything new to tell you.
And you're probably not going to get enlightened listening to me anymore than you got enlightened
listening to the last person.
And it's a little bit like cooking, you know.
You serve another meal, and it's just another meal.
You know, you give another talk, and then, you know, then it's another one.
And we keep giving talks like this, you know, one after another.
And it's what Suzuki Rush used to call food for your brain.
So it's like, you know, another meal.
And then, if you're a cook, you can't come up with food from some other universe.
It's just the same old food.
You know, when we talk, it's the same old language.
Same old words, and then what happens, right?
So, but anyway, I'll tell you a few stories for your...
We'll see what it's for. You can keep reading.
Maybe it's for your amusement, maybe it's for your edification, maybe it's for your annoyance.
We don't know.
There's a line in the... I think it's...
You know, I'm not really good about speaking in which...
I'm not really good about, you know, what thing is in which sutra, and that sort of thing.
But there's a wonderful line. I think it's at the beginning of the song of the Jewel Mirror Samadhi.
Okay, it's right at the beginning.
And it says,
The mind of the great sage of India has been intimately transmitted from west to east.
Now you have it, so please keep it well.
This is a very important point, as you know in Zen and Buddhism.
Now you have it.
You have the mind of the great sage of India.
And there's nothing you need to do to get it now.
You know, it's not like you need to practice hard.
You already have it.
It's not like you need to be able to sit still for 40 minutes and not wiggle,
or get some special experience to, you know, like a diploma or a certification,
or any particular kind of, you know, stamp of approval.
You already have this mind of the great sage of India.
And so please take care of it. Please keep it well.
That's pretty nice.
Anyway, we forget this sometimes.
And we forget it, I think, especially, I notice, you know,
when you start getting into arguments with your spouse,
or you get into traffic jams.
I lose it a lot in traffic jams.
I like to go someplace.
When I go in the car, my idea is that I'm going in the car to get somewhere.
I'm not going in the car to meditate.
It might be a good idea if I just got in the car to practice meditation.
This is always a big mistake when you think you're going to get somewhere.
Meditation, you don't get anywhere.
The rest of the time you don't get anywhere.
Being in traffic, you don't get anywhere.
That would be good.
And it's like your whole life is like a pilgrimage.
And it's wonderful to be on a pilgrimage.
I've done one or two of them,
and it's much nicer than being on vacation
when you get in the hotel room, it's hot,
you open the window, the noise, the traffic is really loud,
so you close the window, it's really hot,
you can't sleep, you have jet lag,
people are arguing in the next room,
and this is vacation.
If that was vacation and you were supposed to be having a good time,
you would feel terrible.
You'd think, oh, I'm on vacation.
Why aren't I having a good time?
But if you're just on a pilgrimage, no problem.
But most of us like to think
that we're on this planet, in this life,
for some reason other than a pilgrimage,
we should be having a good time,
or getting wise,
and why is all this stuff still happening to me?
And isn't there some secret
so that all this stuff wouldn't happen to me anymore?
And maybe if you got enlightened,
then everybody would be really nice to you.
And then when you drove down the freeway,
they'd get out, oh, here comes the enlightened one.
Then they'd move aside.
They'd get out of your way.
And people would come,
and when you'd get in line at the grocery store,
you'd get up to the checkout stop.
Here comes the enlightened one.
Let him through.
Anyway, I never noticed where any of this spiritual stuff
was good for much of anything,
as far as when it came to traffic on the freeway,
or the checkout line at the grocery store,
or any of the important things in life.
So in this sense,
I'm very fond of a story I heard
about a layperson who went to see the Buddha
and performed the proper etiquette of the bowing,
and bowed three times and certainly ambulated
and offered some fruit,
and then the Buddha said,
please have a seat.
Is there something I can do for you?
And the layperson said,
well, I'm just a farmer,
and I haven't done any spiritual practice in my life,
but I'd like some advice, please.
You know, being a farmer is very hard,
and we have floods,
and there's famines.
Sometimes the crops don't come in.
There's droughts.
It's a very uncertain life,
and I worry a lot.
I get anxious.
I wanted to do my best to take care of my family,
but quite a lot of anxiety to it,
making sure that I can do it.
And sometimes, although my wife is very supportive
and she works very hard,
I get angry with her.
I get impatient.
We get into fights.
I know she's doing her best,
but I can't help myself.
I'm under a lot of pressure.
I'm under a lot of stress,
so I lose it sometimes.
And my kids are really wonderful,
but I get angry with them.
I hit them sometimes.
Sometimes at the end of the day I'm really tired,
and they're noisy.
I want them to shut up.
So I get mad,
and I'm impatient with them.
And please give me some advice.
What can I do?
That sounds like a pretty sincere person, doesn't it?
Somebody who's trying very hard
to do the best he can.
And sometimes it doesn't seem like it's very good.
The Buddha said to him,
Well, you know, everybody in this life has 83 problems.
And as soon as you get rid of one,
another will take its place.
You'll always have 83 problems.
And the lay person said,
Well, isn't there some spiritual practice that I can do
to help me with these 83 problems?
Buddha said, No, there isn't.
I'm sorry about that.
And the lay person said,
Well, you know, you have many, many monks here.
Many disciples, lay men and lay women,
and they're all doing all these spiritual practices.
And Buddha said, Yes, that's right.
And the lay person said,
Well, why are they doing all those spiritual practices
if it won't help them with these 83 problems?
What's the point?
And the Buddha said,
Well, sometimes it helps them with the 84th problem.
So, of course, the lay person had to know,
Well, what is this 84th problem
that practice might help me with?
And the Buddha said,
The 84th problem is that you don't want to have any problems at all.
So this is interesting, isn't it?
If you already have,
we each have already the mind of the great sage of India.
It's not doing us much good.
We still have 83 problems.
But because we have this,
it means we can have these problems.
And it's all right to have problems.
Having problems in our life is okay.
And this is one of the main things
that practicing reminds us.
Most of us, we come and we practice meditation
and nothing especially blissful or wonderful happens
and we end up having a lot of problems in meditation.
We have a problem sitting still
and our mind does various things.
But we find out,
I certainly found out that
I could survive problems
and difficulties and pains.
And it was okay to have them.
That was pretty nice.
Then I don't have to, you know,
then your self-esteem doesn't plummet
every time the next problem comes along.
Oh my God, I'm still getting problems?
I thought I was beyond that now.
What universe did you think you were going to arrive in?
This is, you know, the truth.
I don't know.
Do you have any?
Yes.
Yes.
I don't know.
I don't know.
Let's hurry.
There goes another one.
So in some ways this is very similar
to Chinese Zen Master Nan Chuan
and he said,
I tell my students to put themselves
in the time before Buddha appeared in this world.
But very few of them get my meaning.
If you're in the time before Buddha appeared in this world,
you won't have to worry about whether you're doing
really strange practice.
Oh, really?
Strange practice?
Exactly.
We think there is some practice
that we could be doing
and everything would be okay.
Once I get it right,
things will be okay.
It's all going to get better.
It's all going to be fine.
But before, what about before Buddha appeared in this world
and there wasn't any right practice
that you could be doing?
It's like trying to cook before all the cookbooks came out.
There are no directions yet for your life.
It's yours.
You have the mind of the great sage India.
So you're going to have some problems
and you can observe and study
and notice and reflect
and find out how to live your life.
Sometimes things will go well.
Sometimes they won't.
But you have to keep trying.
So my teacher Suzuki Roshi often would say,
and it's in my beginner's mind,
if you want to be someone
who is trying to be a good husband,
even though they may not do it very well,
he's a good husband.
Somebody who's trying to be a good parent,
even though they don't do it very well,
the fact that they keep trying and studying, observing,
trying to find out how to do it,
this is sincere, way-seeking mind.
This is not so complicated, you know.
It's not like you have to sit for a long time
to awaken this kind of mind
of trying to find out how to live your life,
what to say, how to listen,
how to experience things,
how to be with others in their difficulty and in their success,
how to be with yourself through various experiences.
This is our ongoing study in our life.
The Vietnamese Zen teacher Thich Nhat Hanh
sometimes tells a story, perhaps you've heard it.
He tells a story about a woman
who practiced reciting the name of Buddha.
In Japanese they do
Namu Miriputsu, Namu Miriputsu.
They also recite the name of the Lotus Sutra,
Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.
And he said, but...
So in this story there's a woman
who's been practicing for many years,
chanting Buddha's name.
And even after many years,
she was just as single-mindedly determined
to get somewhere in her practice.
And she did her practice very regularly,
but her heart hadn't changed.
She was still just as cold as she'd always been.
And she wasn't any kinder to other people.
She wasn't any more friendly.
She didn't smile any more easily.
So one day a friend of hers decided
he would go and teach her a lesson.
Maybe this is a nice thing to do, maybe not, but...
He thought he would go ahead and give it a try.
So at a time when he knew
that she was doing her practice,
he went and knocked on her door.
And he called out to her,
Mrs. Wu, Mrs. Wu.
And she was doing her meditation practice
and she was determined not to be interrupted.
She thought, if I just continue my practice,
she's going to go away.
Do you think there's a fire somewhere?
He kept calling, knocking on the door.
Mrs. Wu, Mrs. Wu.
Finally, after several minutes,
she came to the door.
She opened the door.
What is it?
Don't you know it's the time I'm practicing meditation?
And he said, excuse me.
I wanted to talk to you.
She said,
I really don't like to have my meditation interrupted.
What do you want?
He said, you seem kind of angry right now.
She said, well of course I'm angry.
You've interrupted me in my practice.
He said, you seem kind of angry.
I've only been calling you for five minutes.
You've been calling the Buddha now for seven years.
Think how angry he must be.
What is it that you really want,
that we really want?
Whatever it is you really want,
then you can start practicing it today, tonight.
And you'll have to probably,
if you haven't done it much before,
it'll be kind of awkward,
it'll be kind of clumsy.
Sometimes just to smile
is kind of awkward and clumsy.
To say hello to somebody
is kind of awkward and clumsy.
To offer somebody a kind word
is awkward and clumsy.
To apologize for something
may be awkward and clumsy.
But this is how we grow in our life.
And it does not something like
if you sit for ten years,
carefully practicing
exactly how it should be done,
that suddenly you burst forth
this wonderful person.
It doesn't work like that.
And we need to know,
we want to know, I think,
I want to know what is my heart's desire,
and I want to find out
how to express that in the world.
And I don't always do it so well,
but this is my effort.
When I started cooking,
I wasn't very good at talking to people,
so I thought it would be simpler to cook
and give them food,
rather than actually having to relate to somebody.
I didn't have anything to say.
I didn't know what to talk about.
I felt pretty shy.
So it was enough for me to be able to cook
and offer people something to eat,
and then I could hang around with people
who seemed to be having a good time,
and seemed to appreciate
that I would cook some food for them.
Over the years, I think I've had
a lot of conversations with vegetables,
and it's encouraged me to...
I don't mean you.
I mean, you know, the actual vegetables.
That's like that joke, you know, about
President Reagan and his wife
were out at dinner, and...
I think they'd already ordered appetizers,
and the waiter said,
and what would you like for your entree,
and Mrs. Reagan said,
I would like the filet of sole,
and he said, and the vegetable,
and she said, don't have the same.
I know we're trying to be...
Anyway, I learned to study
and look at food,
to look at radishes and potatoes,
and to be able to appreciate
the virtue of a radish.
We each have inherent virtue,
inherent well-being,
and we can't always see it.
If you want to see virtue,
you have to have a calm mind and study
carefully so you can see a virtue.
I went to a friend's house for dinner one time.
Actually, it was the first time I'd met this person
as a chef,
and I took two 10-year-old California wines
as a little present,
and there were two 20-year-old French wines
on his mantelpiece,
waiting for dinner.
I figured I was in the right place
for a nice dinner.
The first course was radishes.
Then I really knew I was in the right place.
These were radishes that had been washed.
They still had the root on and the stems,
and there were little dishes of sweet butter and salt.
So you could have plain radish,
radish with butter, radish with salt,
or radish with butter and salt.
That was somebody who could see
the virtue of a radish being a radish.
Radishes don't go like,
gee, I'd like to be a tomato.
What's wrong with me?
Why can't I be a carrot or a potato?
They're completely sincere
about being a radish.
It's very important for radishes to be radishes.
None of us can make dirt and sunlight and water
into a radish.
Radishes do it very well.
And carrots make dirt and sun and water into a carrot.
None of us can do that.
It's very important that carrots can do that.
Each of us is a human being,
so we make carrots and radishes into human beings.
And we, in a way, we don't even do that, right?
It's not like we figure out how to make a carrot and a radish into a human being.
It seems to take care of itself pretty well.
But it's very important for each of us to be who we are.
My teacher Suzuki Roshi would say,
when you are you, Zen is Zen.
This is really different than when you get to be enlightened.
Zen is Zen.
Or when you finally stop having problems.
Zen is Zen.
When you are you, Zen is Zen.
When you know your own pain,
you know your own joy,
you know your own sorrow,
you own your own body and mind,
Zen is Zen.
I'll tell you one more story that I like very much.
Probably my favorite Zen story.
It's about the Zen teacher Ikkyu.
Ikkyu was something of a heretic.
But he was also quite well known and famous as a teacher in many ways.
He studied with a very strict teacher.
They had to wear the same clothes in the winter and the summer.
So they tended to be hot in the summer and cold in the winter.
This, by the way, you know, is considered to be the benefits of Zen practice.
Do you know that story of the monk who asked the teacher,
what do you call someone who leaves the monastery and doesn't come back?
And the teacher said, they're ungrateful asses.
And then the monk said, what about somebody who leaves and then comes back again?
He said, they remember the benefits.
The monk said, what are the benefits?
And he said, heat in the summer and cold in the winter.
Now why would you need to practice Zen to get those heat in the summer and cold in the winter?
The part you might get is that that's a benefit.
It's not some problem.
That problem is not really a problem.
Anyway, when the other students had to wear the same clothes in the winter and summer
and they didn't have down sleeping bags in the winter,
his teacher was rather gruff.
So most of the students left EQ and a few stayed on.
He was there for many years, six or seven years.
In the summer, sometimes he would row out on Lake Biwa in a boat
and he would sit and meditate in the boat as it floated on the lake.
One day he heard a crow call.
Ah!
And something happened. He woke up.
And he went to see his teacher.
He told him about the experience.
All these stories, you know, they never really tell you, like, what happened.
Well, he was enlightened.
Parentheses, whatever that is.
Because, you know, there's plenty of places where it says, like Dogen.
Dogen says, enlightenment is not something that can be discriminated.
It means you can't point it out.
You can say, this is enlightenment and this isn't.
So how would you know whether you had it or not?
He decided he had it.
He went and told his teacher about his experience.
His teacher said to him, that's very good, Ikkyu,
but it's still not the enlightenment of the Buddhist ancestors.
Ikkyu said, I don't care. It's good enough for me.
His teacher said, that's the enlightenment of the Buddhist ancestors.
So what do you think?
Most of the time, you know, we go around like, no, this isn't good enough yet.
Sorry.
You're not getting enough good experiences for me.
I don't think you've arrived yet.
We tell ourselves all kinds of things.
Not measuring up yet, are we?
Haven't arrived yet.
Still got some problems.
Haven't attained perfection.
Ikkyu said, I don't care. It's good enough for me.
Sounds a little bit like the 84th problem. He got through it, right?
I don't care. It's good enough for me.
So even this kind of statement is something, you know, that you can say any time.
However awkwardly or clumsily.
It's good enough for me.
I've mentioned sometimes throughout this talk, I've mentioned, you know, however awkward and clumsy.
That's because it's from another story.
I can't quite remember that teacher.
I can't quite remember that teacher.
He was having a talk one day with another teacher.
And the other teacher was exclaiming about some precious kind of teaching.
And Yakusan said to him, that's rather elevated, wouldn't you say?
And he said, well, maybe. What would you say?
And Yakusan said, awkward in a hundred ways, clumsy in a thousand.
Still, I keep going.
This is the Zen life.
Each of you, each of us has the mind of the great sage of India.
And we're living this life. Please take care of it. Keep it well.
Thank you.