2004.05.01-serial.00241

00:00
00:00
Audio loading...

Welcome! You can log in or create an account to save favorites, edit keywords, transcripts, and more.

Serial: 
EB-00241
Photos: 
Transcript: 

Time to time, and many of the dishwashers would get way behind because then all these
different dishes come in.
If you just stack them up, then you can do all the platters, all the plates, all the
smaller plates.
Anyway.
But I started out as a dishwasher, so I was very good at it.
And I was very calm and good-natured.
And then they were making really delicious bread, so I asked if I could learn how to
make bread.
If they'd teach me, and they said, sure.
That's when I learned the sponge method.
There's history to all these things.
Our bread comes from, actually, my teachers were students of a man named Alan Hooker at
the Ranch House Restaurant in Ojai.
That's a whole other story.
And he was a student of Krishnamurti's.
These things go back.
And so they taught me to make bread, and then they started teaching me to make lunch soups
and breakfast.
And then about halfway through the summer, one of the cooks quit.
And so the owners of Tussar said, why don't you become a cook?
And within hours, I had cook's temperament.
And within a few weeks, there was meetings.
What are we going to do about Ed?
And it took two people to replace me as doing the dishes, the pots, and the bread.
But we had just two cooks.
One cook did breakfast and lunch, the other cook did dinner.
And you worked 12 days and then had two days off.
But I was sitting in cabin 3B, which isn't there anymore.
And it turned out the woman in 2D, we had a little tiny mokugyo for our chanting in
the morning, and a little bell.
She had a drinking problem, and our little mokugyo about 7, 15 or so in the morning would
wake her up.
So we moved our zendo down to the barn, the first barn, which didn't have all the rooms
then.
Anyway, things have changed a lot, obviously, since then.
But since I had two or three months of experience working in the kitchen, when Zen Center bought
Tassajara and I was already a Zen student and already a cook, they said, why don't you
be the head cook?
I was 22.
So, depending on when an organization started, it doesn't take long to advance.
Now you get here and before you're the head cook, it's like years of practice at Tassajara
and Zen Center and in the kitchen, and then maybe you can be the head cook finally.
So I was 22 and I started being the head cook, and then somebody asked me last summer, were
you ever a guest cook?
And it's like, I think that was probably before you were born, because it was, you know,
many of the students now, I mean, like I was guest cooking in 67, 68, 69, you know, many
of the students now 70, 71, 72.
Oh, well, and then I try to explain, you know, when I was guest cook, I was also the
tenzo and the baker.
And we had two guest cooks, one tenzo, two guest cooks, and one baker.
So we sometimes worked three or four weeks and then, you know, we'd take a day off.
But we were young, and we didn't know any better, and we weren't staffed that well,
and it was all kind of a big adventure or something, you know.
Anyway, now we're so well organized, it's amazing, you know, everything is all mapped
out and it's really quite nice, probably much more conducive to like Zen practice.
So I was also remembering, so I've always had this interest though, not always, but
you know, going back this time, I was interested in cooking, and I was interested in helping
Zen Center and Tassajara, and our teachers used to say, Suzuki Rishi and Kadagiri Rishi
used to say, you know, working in the kitchen is the same as being in the zendo.
But most people don't believe this, I don't think.
And so like, at one point there, the people in the kitchen said, you know, because we're
working in the kitchen, we're not getting as much zazen time as those other people.
So we need a special period of zazen just for the kitchen, so we can make up for lost
zazen time.
This is stupid, but they convinced the authorities here at Tassajara, you know, that we should
have a kitchen zazen, so we get up in the morning and make breakfast, and then we clean
up from breakfast.
And in those days, we were serving, we were also serving the food to the zendo.
We cooked the food, and now that we have people come out of the zendo to serve the food to
the zendo.
In those days, the cooks, then we went and served the food, we brought the food back,
we ate, we cleaned up, you know.
It was a long day.
And anyway.
So we started having kitchen zazen in the morning, when otherwise we would have a break.
So after we finished serving breakfast and cleaning up from breakfast, then we might
have time to go to the bathroom, and then we'd go and sit zazen, and then we'd come
back to work on lunch.
And then sometime in the afternoon, we'd have a break, and then we'd start on dinner.
And I thought, I never liked that idea of having kitchen zazen, and I feel vindicated
now if I may say so, because I'm still here and they're not.
All those people, you know, who got their extra zazen time, because kitchen practice
wasn't really zazen, you know.
And the way to have zazen is to be in the zendo.
Many years later, I was at a Tibetan center, and the Tibetan teacher was going on and on
about the most beneficial place to be is the meditation hall, and the most auspicious.
And to be meditating, this is most auspicious, most wonderful.
And after this hour-long talk, you know, are there any questions?
And I said, doesn't somebody have to cook?
Is there any hope for them?
Is it just a loss?
They don't have a chance, and it's only auspicious if you're in the meditation hall.
Because I've also been to centers where it's like that.
We're actually very unusual here.
I've been to centers where people, the cook will say to me, nobody helps because they're
all busy sewing llama robes and writing out hundreds of thousands of mantras that they're
putting in the top of 16-foot-high Buddhas.
They're doing spiritual practices, so you wouldn't want to cook when you have a chance
to do a spiritual practice.
Do you understand?
So we're a little different that way, that cooking could be a spiritual practice.
Anyway, the Tibetan teacher said, if you do your kitchen work completely willingly, with
your full willingness and generosity of heart, it's exactly the same thing.
Oh, well, thank you for saying so.
Anyway, well, I wanted to read you from the Tenzo Kyokan here, another one of the mushroom
stories.
We read one this afternoon.
And this kind of rubs it in.
In the fifth month of the 16th year of Jiading, 1223, Dogen says, I was staying on a ship.
One time while I was talking with the captain, a monk, about 60 years old, came on board
and he talked to a Japanese merchant and then bought some mushrooms from Japan.
I invited him to have tea and asked where he came from.
He was the Tenzo from Mount Ayuwang.
I am from Hsu in western China, he said, and have been away from my native place for 40
years.
Now I am 61 years old.
I have visited monasteries in various places.
Some years ago, priest Daochuan became abbot of Guiyun Temple on Mount Ayuwang, so I went
to Mount Ayuwang and entered the community and have been there ever since.
Last year when the summer practice period was over, I was appointed Tenzo, the head
cook of the monastery.
Tomorrow is the fifth day of the fifth month, but I have nothing good to offer the community.
I wanted to make a noodle soup, but we did not have mushrooms, so I made a special trip
here to get some mushrooms to offer to the monks from the Ten Directions.
I asked him, when did you leave there?
And he said, after the noon meal.
How far is Mount Ayuwang?
34 or 35 li, so it's about 12 miles.
So this is the Tenzo, you know, kind of walking from here to Jamesburg to get some mushrooms.
That's 14 miles.
When are you going back to your monastery?
I will go back as soon as I have bought mushrooms.
I said, today we met unexpectedly and had a conversation on the ship.
Is it not a good causal relationship?
Please let me offer you a meal, Reverend Tenzo.
It is not possible.
If I don't oversee tomorrow's offering, it will not be good.
And Dogen says, is there not someone else in the monastery who understands cooking?
Even if one Tenzo is missing, will something be lacking?
And the Tenzo says, I have taken this position in my old age.
This is the fulfillment of many years of practice.
How can I delegate my responsibility to others?
Besides, I did not ask permission to stay out.
I again asked the Tenzo, Honorable Tenzo, why don't you concentrate on Zazen practice
and on the study of the ancient master's words,
rather than troubling yourself by holding the position of Tenzo and just working?
Is there anything good about it?
The Tenzo laughed a lot and replied,
Good man from a foreign country,
you do not yet understand practice or know the meaning of the words of the ancient masters.
Hearing him respond in this way, I suddenly felt ashamed and surprised.
So I asked him, what are words?
What is practice?
The Tenzo said, if you penetrate this question,
you cannot fail to become a person of understanding.
But I did not understand.
Then the Tenzo said, if you do not understand this, please,
come and see me at Mount Ayuang sometime.
We'll discuss the meaning of words.
He spoke in this way and then he stood up and said,
the sun will soon be down, I must hurry, and he left.
We talked some this afternoon.
This again is an example of the fact that we each have our position.
Our position is this body, this place, this time.
We have various positions here at Tathagata,
and then we have our individual lives,
and we have our individual relationships with our families,
our children, our parents.
We're in various positions.
Nobody else can take our position.
We're the only ones who can be in the position of me, each one of us.
There's no one else who can take that position.
This is very basic to Zen,
that it's completely up to each one of us to fulfill the position of being who we are
and responding to all the relationships in all directions,
whether it's working in the kitchen or taking care of our children
or being a spouse or taking care of our aging parents.
No one else does these things,
and if we don't do it, it's not as though someone will.
This Tenzo monk has a sense of this.
Another way we say this oftentimes, Dogen says,
when you meet one Dharma, practice one Dharma.
Or we could say, meeting this moment, practice this moment.
What's happening in this moment?
What are we going to do?
How is it to be me?
It's not real obvious what it is to be alive in this moment
and how to fulfill our position,
how to fulfill our life as an individual
and also fulfill the various directions of our relationships with things,
with people, with place.
It's very challenging,
but this is what the encouragement of our ancestors is
to take on this challenge of how to fulfill the position of being me.
It would be nice, in a certain way, if there was some obvious way to do it,
because then you could actually work at it,
but it doesn't turn out like that.
We're each studying how to do this.
I appreciate this also.
There was a Japanese Zen teacher named Tenke.
Tenke was teaching at one point.
He said, see with your eyes,
listen with your ears,
smell with your nose,
taste with your tongue.
He said, nothing in the universe is hidden.
What else would you have me say?
I think what we would usually have him say is,
would you please tell me how to make everything come out the way I'd like it to be?
This is what not even a Zen master is going to be able to tell you.
Our taking on our position and responding to our life
doesn't mean that things come out the way we want them to.
This is very interesting.
What is it then to do this?
Sometimes in cooking I think about...
When I started cooking, I had more the idea that
you think of what to do,
you come up with an idea, a concept.
I'm going to make this, this, and this.
Then you set out to do what you thought up.
This is mostly the way we are living our lives.
We have an idea or a picture
of the reality that would be good to create.
Then we try to get all the things that are out there
to help us create our reality.
I don't know about you, but whenever I try to do that,
the world is not that helpful.
People don't fit in, the sponges don't help.
They just don't do that.
They're somehow not ready to say,
Oh, is that your idea?
Oh, we'd be delighted, we'd be so happy
to make your idea or your picture come true.
This is often the way we're going forward in our lives,
is to have this picture and then see if we can
get it to happen.
We have a picture of a relationship
or we have a picture of a recipe.
Then it turns out, well, we're missing an ingredient
or we don't have time.
Our picture that we dream up is not happening.
Of course, Buddhism suggests
that this is pretty, sometimes this is called suffering
or the first noble truth.
Things aren't going to happen the way we thought.
It turns out that, on the other hand,
we could kind of look around and see what's around
and have some sense of our capacity
and our possibilities.
We could look and see what's in the garden,
what's in the refrigerator.
When we observe all the things,
then we dream up what to do with them.
Our dreaming up what to do is in response to the things,
rather than we have a picture and then we tell the things,
you should fit into my picture.
Do you understand the difference?
Yes.
I have the feeling,
we can understand a story like this
about the tenzo and the mushrooms in various ways,
but this is one way I think about this.
It's very easy to have a picture of what practice is
and I could do this practice and then I would become...
If I study the words of the ancients and I do zaz,
then I could become such and such.
I have this picture of the kind of person I could be.
But actually, we do this practice
and then we become something we hadn't dreamed of.
That's seeing with your eyes and smelling with your nose
and responding to things.
Dogen calls this also,
and this is one of my favorite expressions,
let your heart go out and abide in things.
Let things come and abide in your heart.
Let your heart...
And you know, sometimes this is translated mind,
but for the understanding for Japanese and Chinese,
you know, is heart is mind.
The heart is actually 5,000 times...
Electromagnetically, the heart is 5,000 times stronger than the brain.
Let your heart go out and abide in things.
Let things return and abide in your heart.
And we seem to need this advice
because there is a tendency for us to kind of be inside
and sort of thinking of what to do
and how to make something happen
and, you know, we don't like the way it is
or, you know, how do I do this?
And how do I make my picture of the way things could be?
How does it come true?
How do I make that picture happen?
And it's just... and it's not happening.
So the advice is let your heart go out and abide...
to actually go out and see and smell and taste and touch.
And it's another kind of going out actually in meditation
to think your thoughts, feel your feelings, sense your sensations.
This is also a kind of going out
because the tendency, whether it's meditation
or in other places in our life,
meditation, the tendency is
I could get my body into some position
where I don't have to pay attention to anything.
And then I could... and then...
In other words, you know,
to have to actually give your attention to anything,
this is really hard.
So mostly... because mostly we have the idea
that I could actually relax and be calm and peaceful
when I don't have anything I have to pay attention to.
Isn't this the way we think?
So this is why we go and lie on beaches in Hawaii.
Because, you know, I'm done, I'm finished.
I don't have to actually take care of anything.
So now I can relax.
So this is our tendency is
could everything please take care of itself
and that I didn't have to relate to anything
and then I could relax
and then I could be quiet and peaceful and calm
because I don't have to relate to anything.
And this is a kind of, you know,
so-called trap for meditators.
I don't have to relate to anything
and now I'm peaceful and quiet
and I get to sit here in the meditation hall
and, you know, I don't even have to pay attention to my body.
This is when in the old days
we used to come and hit you with a stick.
Give your attention to something,
to your posture, sit up.
Have some vitality, have some energy.
And that worked as long as it was the Japanese teachers
who were hitting us,
especially when we started hitting each other
and then when men and women started hitting each other,
you know, women are hitting men, men are hitting women.
It's like, whoa, this is kinky.
So, and this is a miracle.
And we don't do that sort of, you know, stuff anymore.
You know, it's just guys.
You know, and young men,
you can, you know, knock each other around.
You know, otherwise known as football or whatever it is,
but, you know, Zen, no different, you know.
I don't know if I'm making this clear,
but, you know, as soon as you are aware of something,
then what do I do with it?
Or how do I respond to it?
Or what does it think of me?
What do I think of it?
Do I like it? Do I not like it?
How does this reflect on me?
You know, how am I going to handle this?
This is too much for me.
I don't know what to do.
You know, and so forth.
So, the idea of Zen is actually
that we could actually pay attention
or give our attention to all these things
and be calm
and have some quiet in our life.
It's not when we finish doing all these things.
So, it's a real different kind of idea
that there's actually a vitality
and a stillness
in relating to things moment after moment.
That there's this kind of possibility
rather than peace and stillness
and harmony and calm
is when you don't have to relate to anything.
Do you understand?
This is an important point.
So, we're studying actually
how to relate to things.
So, the kitchen, you know,
this is true in the kitchen
to actually pick up the food,
see the food, smell the food,
taste things, touch things.
It's true in the shop.
It's true, you know, in the dining room.
And we're also relating then to each other
and to our own experience.
So, I want to read you the,
well, I want to talk,
before I go on here,
I want to tell you,
I just, every so often here at Tassajar
I'd like to tell you about kid talk.
Because most of us are familiar with kid talk
but we don't realize
what kind of, you know,
how kid talk it is.
And so, this is some of the things we do
rather than relate to things,
rather than actually
letting our heart go out
and abide in things,
letting things come and abide in the heart.
So, one of the things we say is,
I can't.
And, you know,
why do we, you know,
how is it that we can't?
Well, you know,
if I did that,
it might not work out well.
So, why don't I just say,
I can't.
Or, you know,
if I did that,
if I did that,
you might not like it,
so I can't.
In other words,
I can't is a way to avoid
the possibility of failure
or that it's not working out
or that somebody would disapprove
of how you did that.
I can't.
So, that's simpler than actually
trying and failing, you know.
I can't.
I'm not willing to be awkward.
I'm not willing to be clumsy.
I'm not willing to do something
I haven't done before.
I can only do the things
that I've done before
and that I know what I'm doing
and that I'm an expert at,
and I wouldn't want to be
a beginner at anything.
I wouldn't want to just try out.
I wouldn't want to stumble along
or be awkward.
I can't.
Okay?
So, this is one.
And, you know,
the opposite of that would be
why don't I try something out
and be a beginner
and, you know,
see what I can find out
and study this
and be a little awkward
to start with
and clumsy
and gradually,
I'll get better at things
and I'll find out how to do things
and I'll work at it.
So, that's a different
mentality than
I can't.
I'm not going to
go into something
I don't know how to do.
Another one is I'll try.
We've all heard that one
and you know what that means, right?
I don't really want to,
but I don't want to tell you
that I don't want to
and that I'm not going to,
so I'll tell you that I'll try.
Because I wouldn't want to
disappoint you or upset you
with the fact that
I'm not going to.
So, we say,
yeah, I'll try.
How often have you heard that
and you know right away, like,
that means nothing.
And we say that so easily,
you know.
So,
either, you know,
so it's useful, like,
either like,
actually I'd rather not do that
or, you know,
I'm not ready, you know,
to say yes to that
or, you know,
rather than just saying
I'll try,
which is a kind of evasive.
Why not be, you know,
willing to express
I'm not, you know,
I'm not willing
to do that right now.
I don't, you know,
I can't agree to that right now.
And,
another one is,
I should.
I should.
So that's,
I'm not,
I don't want to,
but I should.
Right?
So,
any, so we,
you know,
if you're watching your language,
what do you tell yourself
about,
and then,
or another one like,
so when I say,
if I find myself saying should,
I just say,
yeah, I don't want to,
I'm not,
and I don't want to.
And then either,
okay, but I'll do it anyway,
but I don't,
you know,
we're trying to,
sort of like,
let's have some real language
in our own,
you know,
psyche,
you know.
Another one is,
I can't be bothered.
So that's exactly this thing,
you know,
I can't be bothered means,
I want
to
spend some time
in my own world
where I don't have to relate to anything.
And we all have,
and we all have the,
you know,
we should have that kind of space
from time to time.
And you know,
we,
like here,
we have a pretty intense schedule,
but,
you know,
now and again,
there's a little time where
I don't have to relate to anything,
and you kind of get a break from it,
and we should be able to do that.
Just like,
you know,
if you want to dissociate,
go ahead and dissociate,
you know,
go ahead and space out.
No one says you have to be present
all the time.
Have to.
There's another one of these.
I have to.
No one says you have to anything.
You know,
so if you find yourself saying
have to,
it's really,
it's really useful to say,
well,
what,
what is it I'm going to,
I'm choosing to do?
Because have to
you know,
there's just a difference of,
you know,
this isn't,
this isn't really my,
you know,
first choice,
and,
and I don't,
and I'm not really enthusiastic about this,
but I'm going to,
I'm choosing to do this anyway.
I'd rather go ahead and do this.
I'd like to go ahead and,
you know,
give it a shot,
which is different than I have to do this.
Have to
means you feel,
you start to feel coerced.
You're coercing yourself into the,
following the schedule,
or doing what you should,
or,
and then you make up all these things.
So,
this is all stuff that,
you know,
the Zen teacher says,
nothing in the universe is hidden.
And,
this is also like,
Dokin says,
your thoughts
were already
realization,
but you thought,
and you said,
these thoughts
can't be realization.
Who just said that?
So,
we're in this strange business of,
there's some future
where it's going to be realization,
which is different than the present.
And then,
how do we arrive at that space?
And then,
we have a picture of that space,
a picture of that moment,
of that time,
some future time,
some future moment,
which is different than now.
And then,
how would you ever get to there,
when all you can be is here?
With all of its,
all of what's going on.
So,
Dokin says,
realization,
what you think,
one way or another,
about realization
is not a help
for realization.
But,
seeing with your eyes,
smelling with your nose,
listening with your ears,
tasting with your tongue,
this is a help.
You can walk with your feet.
You know,
do things with your hands.
And then,
as we do things,
we're,
life is coming alive.
Our hands come alive,
our feet come alive,
our body's alive,
because
we are
manifesting ourselves,
we're doing things.
And the world is appearing to us
outside of
our conception
or our picture
of what we thought it would be
or what we'd like to see.
No problem,
without our having to do anything.
Realization comes forth
by the power of realization.
And Dokin says,
thank goodness,
otherwise,
it wouldn't be trustworthy.
It was just up to any of us.
Ah, well.
So,
the second part
of the mushroom story here.
So, Dokin,
it turns out,
did have a second encounter
with this
in Tenzo.
He says,
In the seventh month
of the same year,
I was staying at
Mount Tien Tong,
when the Tenzo
of Ayuan
came to me
to see me
and said,
after the summer practice period
is over,
I'm going to retire
as Tenzo
and return
to my native place.
I heard from a fellow monk
that you were staying here,
so I thought
I should come to see you.
I was moved with joy.
I served him tea
and we talked.
When I referred
to the discussion
of words and practice
which had taken place
on the ship,
the Tenzo said,
To study words,
you must know
the origin of words.
To endeavor in practice,
you must know
the origin of practice.
And I asked,
what are words?
The Tenzo said,
one,
two,
three,
four,
five.
I asked again,
what is practice?
The Tenzo said,
nothing in the entire universe
is hidden.
We talked about
many other things
which I will not
introduce now.
If I know a little
about words
or understand practice,
it is because of
the great help
of the Tenzo.
I told my late master
Myozen about this
in detail
and he
was extremely pleased.
I later found a verse
which Shueido wrote
for a monk.
Through one word
or seven,
three or five,
nothing in the universe
can be fully
comprehended
or grasped.
Night advances,
the full moon
falls and sinks
into the ocean.
The black dragon jewel
you have been
searching for
is everywhere.
Many people,
when they comment
on what are words,
one, two, three, four, five,
this is one thing
after another
that, you know,
is these things
that our heart,
to let our heart
go out to.
And the things
that we let come
and abide in our heart,
one thing after another.
And the things,
you know,
that are coming
and abiding,
you know,
are not just things
but it's also
the preciousness
of our life
or in this case,
you know,
it's called
the black dragon jewel
you've been searching for.
Because what it is
we're really searching for
is not something,
you know,
about how well we do anything
or how poorly.
But it's because
what we're searching for
is to give our heart
and to let things
come home to our heart.
And to be in this kind
of intimate relationship
with the things of life
which are the things
inside us,
the things outside us,
the people around us,
the things around us,
the food,
the place,
the gardens,
you know,
the activities
that we're engaged in.
And to find things
in our life
and places and times
where we can give ourselves
to things
and things can come
and, you know,
be our good companions.
.
I cut myself today.
What do you think?
Isn't that embarrassing?
Experienced chef, oh well.
So in Zen we have this kind of idea that I don't want to talk too much longer, so I want
to tell you briefly one more story about.
It was actually right here, this was the Zen Do before we finished the Zen Do that was
over there that burned down before that Zen Do.
This is like about one of our first Zen Do's, and when we first started serving breakfast
in the Zen Do, it was 1967, and when we were eating at tables outside we had been serving
milk and sugar, and because some people didn't want white sugar, we also had brown sugar,
and some people didn't want sugar so we had honey, and then some people didn't want honey
so we had molasses.
And then in terms of milk, you know, this is before soy milk, rice milk, and low-fat
milk, non-fat milk, so milk and then some extra-rich milk, and then some half-and-half,
and then some canned milk.
And after all, this is America, have it your way.
And shouldn't you be able to make things the way you want them to be?
And shouldn't you have the condiments of your choice?
And so we didn't know any better, and we were serving these things, and when you're doing
this in the Zen Do, then you have to pass it down the row, and it turns out that to
pass several things down the row like that takes a long time, so we started having one
tray for every three people.
So now for 30 people, there's ten trays.
Ten trays of all the milks and ten trays of all the sugars.
So there's 20 trays with four or five containers each.
This is a lot if you're in the kitchen.
And about the third morning we did this, I had been serving and we were outside here
and we heard somebody came out and said, Suzuki Roshi is going to give a talk, he wants everybody
in the meditation hall.
So we all came in here.
I think the altar was over there and we were using these back doors, I mean it's all been
remodeled since those days anyway, and Suzuki Roshi said, I don't understand you Americans.
When you put all these condiments on your cereal, how can you taste the true spirit
of the grain?
And I think until he mentioned that, we had no idea that there was such a thing that you
could do.
Don't you just like when something happens, you try to make it be the way you'd like it
to be?
You don't go like, I could taste the true spirit of the cereal, or I could taste the
true spirit of the person in front of me, or I could taste my own true spirit, or I could
know my own good heart, or I could know someone else's sincerity or good heart, and say, well
speak up or calm down.
And then Suzuki Roshi went on, what did you think that every moment in your life you could
add enough cream and sugar to make it taste just the way you want it to?
Of course we're thinking, sure.
And he said, you know, each moment you could, you know, why don't you practice tasting the
true spirit?
Why don't you just practice tasting the way things are, rather than making, wanting to
make everything taste a certain way, be a certain way.
And so there's that kind of emphasis in our practice and in our cooking, which is to,
even though we're seasoning things and taking care of things, we're not, you know, the tradition
is not to mix up a bunch of different ingredients, it's to have things be fairly simple, not
a lot of different ingredients.
Except for when we sort of have, you know, we have leftovers sometimes, and we put a bunch
of them together.
And the sense is, you know, that each of us has, you know, our spirit, and we're studying,
you know, how to see beyond the appearance of things to someone's true spirit and how
to call forth one another's true spirit.
And this is different than, you know, how do I get this person to calm down or shut up
or, you know, be nice to me, or why are they, you know, like this?
So we're sort of seeing if we can somehow connect with this person's good heart and
not be, you know, put off by the kinds of difficulties or problems I have or you have
or, you know, we have with each other.
Is there some way we can sense that and realize we're all, we're good-hearted people, and
how do we call that forth in one another?
And call forth our good-heartedness and our capacity to let our heart go out and be with
things and let the things come home to our heart.
We're all just working on this, you know.
I just thought of another story, but oh well, it's probably late enough.
And there'll be other talks, won't there?
And then I'll have something to tell you next time.
It's been my pleasure to be with all of you tonight, and thank you so much for your good-hearted
presence.
I appreciate the stillness and sense of quiet and refreshment in the room.
So thank you.
Blessings.