2007.03.26-serial.00215

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EB-00215
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Once again, thank you for your presence, your good heart.
I've been practicing Buddhism now for more than 40 years, and sometimes I don't know
that I've gotten very far.
You know, those days when I'm yelling at things, sponges and dishes.
I don't know if any of you do that sort of thing.
I never hear about it.
I wonder if maybe I'm the only one.
And when you yell at things, you know, a friend of mine said, well, this is refreshing because,
you know, I never thought to yell at things.
I always blame myself for my incompetence.
And you blame the things for not behaving well enough.
So, the other day, I came across a poem that was a little encouraging for me, and I'm going
to share it with you, thinking that perhaps it will also be encouraging for you.
It's a poem by Hafiz.
It is a grave, grave danger for an aspirant on the path to begin to believe and act as
if the 10,000 idiots who so long lived and ruled inside have packed their bags and skipped
town or died.
So apparently, I'm not in that grave danger.
And perhaps none of you are either, but maybe there's one or two of you.
Did you get the poem?
It's a grave danger when the aspirant on the path begins to believe and act as if the 10,000
idiots who so long lived and ruled inside have suddenly packed their bags and skipped
town or died.
Anyway, my 10,000 idiots are still around.
And every so often I, in fact, call on them to entertain people.
I don't know, you know, I have very high standards, I don't know about you, you know, for the
kind of behavior that would be acceptable.
And so, you know, there's just a lot of my life when things, you know, my behavior's
not acceptable.
And coincidentally, you know, I'm now in a movie you're going to get to see.
You're going to get to see this in a theater near you.
And the unusual thing is that this is why there was a movie made about me, is because
I'm so, I am so less than well behaved.
And to be a Buddhist, I mean, I thought that practicing Buddhism meant that you eventually,
you know, attained good behavior.
And it hasn't happened yet.
I thought that eventually, well, maybe after 40 years, I would be impeccable.
And when I mention this to people, they say, oh, you mean that you're a human?
And I'm like, oh, I guess so.
Is this a good thing, to be human?
How do you feel about it?
I mean, allow me to be your therapist for a moment.
How do you feel about this, this being human business?
The other day, you know, I was, a lot of these things happened for me in the kitchen.
But I went to, you know, put some leftovers into a little plastic container.
I like to save leftovers.
My, you know, there's a Zen teaching that you should not waste even a single grain of
rice.
Treat the food as though it was your eyesight.
So I'm trying to be a good Buddhist.
Is this such a problem?
I mean, isn't this, is this a good thing to be doing?
And then what happens?
Like, the leftover container flips onto the floor.
The soup is all over the floor.
It's like, do I deserve this?
I mean, I'm doing spiritual practice here.
I'm trying to treat the food really carefully.
I'm trying to take care of these things.
And what does the universe care?
And I know all this teaching about how things do not get together and conspire to make you
angry.
This is not the way that the universe works, but it sure seems that way to me.
And I think, well, why don't you do this to somebody who's not taking care of their leftovers?
And so then I'm getting, I get angry at the things, you know, and I, I'm being a good
person, you know.
And then is that good?
Is that not good?
Is that good practice?
Is it better to get angry at yourself or, you know, to be patient with yourself?
Oh, that's, it's okay, little Eddie.
You could have compassion for yourself.
And then a few minutes later, I mean, was it because I got upset about that?
But you know, I had this beautiful dish that's like my most beautiful dish.
It's got like, I don't know what it's called.
It's rabbit fur thing.
It's dark brown.
And then it has this little swath of this sort of rabbit fur, you know, stuff across
there in another color and it's an exquisite little bowl with a little twist to it on the
side there.
So it's sort of like a little handle thing.
So it's sitting on the, on the counter.
And then the next thing I know, it just slips.
Well, I mean, I might have kind of grazed it with, you know, my robe, you know, with
a cloth or something and it's on, and it falls off.
And I thought maybe I could save it with my leg.
I was kicking at it and I did manage to hit it twice on its way down.
And I thought with that kind of cushioning, because I had kind of slowed it halfway down
to the floor, with that kind of cushioning, it might land on the floor and be okay.
But no, it's like 20 pieces.
It's not like, you know, one break in half and you could glue it.
I have some glued things.
Because I figure we're all put together.
We've all been broken, you know, life breaks us and we put ourselves back together.
Or, you know, Buddhism has the idea that you, Buddha puts you back together.
Or, Kuan Yin puts you back together.
You don't have to do it for yourself, you know, you just get another body, you know.
In fact, you know, one story is the story of how Kanan, the Bodhisattva of Compassion,
Japanese is the word Kanan, but Kuan Yin in Chinese, you know, and Kanseon, anyway, she
one day went to hell.
She decided to save all the beings in hell.
And of course, in the Buddhist cosmology, you know, hell is, it's not like it's endless
and it, you know, and it's not, I mean, like you can come and go from there.
So she goes, and the people in hell are not very trusting.
They're all sort of like, lady, we've heard this stuff before.
They've been, you know, they don't, who are you going to trust?
Because you could have this great life, yeah, and credit card debt, and, you know, I mean,
what does it take?
Anyway, they're not believing her, and so it takes a lot of convincing, and finally
she gathers up all the people in hell, and she's leading them out to another realm.
And she looks back, and innumerable more people are just wandering in, great place to hang
out, hell, and they have no idea, not a clue, and she's just devastated, you know, it blows
her mind, literally, her head explodes.
So then it's at this time, you see, that Amida Buddha gives her another body, another
head, so she has to do this, you know, 10 times, and, you know, and then there's the
statues of her with 11 heads, you know, and how she got the 11 heads is because of endeavoring
to do things, and, you know, that are impossible, with, you know, her good heart.
And so then finally she has a head that, you know, somehow manages, you know, that can
sustain this kind of activity.
So maybe there's hope for me.
Because 10, you know, is just a number, like a thousand or a million, or, in Tibetan Buddhism
they have 100,000 prostrations and 100,000 offerings of various sorts.
So I guess maybe I have to break, you know, 10,000 bowls and spill 10,000, 100,000 things
of soup, and eventually I'll be able to keep it together when this happens.
I don't know.
And then I thought, I don't know why I think these things, but I thought, well, I'll try
to adjust the stove.
The stove had these, the flame, instead of being blue, was a little yellow at the ends,
and that means there's too much air, and I tried to adjust the little thing, turn it
on the gas thing, on the gas line that adjusts the amount of air that's coming into the line,
and every time I tried to turn the adjusting thing, it just popped off the line.
So I put it back on and I try to turn it and it pops off.
Do you know why things are made like this?
Why are things, why do people, why are there people out there making useless
little pieces of plastic that you can't do anything with?
I don't know.
I don't understand this.
And it's frustrating to me that then these things that somebody's making that are useless
are coming into my life to, you know, somehow torment me.
Oh, you thought you could adjust the stove.
Sorry about that.
Not today.
And then I was wondering, you know, and then that same day somehow I had spilled the coffee,
spilled the tea, spilled the water, and it's all over the letters and the checks and the bills.
Why are these things happening like this?
You know, doesn't anybody care?
And this isn't even important things, you know, like health or friends with, you know,
cancer or, you know, your children or your parents.
This is just, you know, things.
The 10,000 idiots are alive and well.
So, you know, there are various pieces of advice in Zen.
One of them I appreciated was the Zen teacher who said,
since anger is so devastating and painful for both the person who's angry
and those who are the object of the anger,
you know, that it's appropriate and important for the practitioner
to cut off all traces of anger.
But since we're, sorry to say, human, nobody can do this.
So he says, don't keep it in the forefront.
So I use, you know, I remind myself with this kind of piece of advice too.
Don't keep it in the forefront.
But I also have, you know, kind of a curiosity and interest
in things and thoughts and feelings and, you know, the inner world, so to speak.
Because I feel, you know, that's of interest to me.
And on the whole, our culture, you know, doesn't honor the inner world.
And it's hard then in a culture that doesn't honor the inner world
to honor your own inner world.
And if you're not honoring your inner world,
then what's becoming of your life?
What's become of your life?
And you, you know, we end up going through the motions
and making it look right or good.
And what's going to be satisfying and fulfilling
and how we do realize and express our good heart.
So for instance, another poem by Hafiz.
He says, you know, don't surrender your loneliness so easily.
You could also say your grief.
Don't surrender your grief so easily.
We live again, you know, in a culture doesn't honor grief or grieving.
People still tell you, you know, get over it.
And it can be, and you know, it can be your pet
or your child or your parent or a friend who's sick or has died.
And people tell you, get over it.
God has plans.
You know, or whatever, you know.
You can have another child.
So we have, you know, if you're sad or grieving about something or lonely,
you know, there's not a lot of empathy for that.
Go for a walk.
There's a dance on Friday night.
You know, there's all these things that you could be doing.
But anyway, Hafiz says, don't surrender your loneliness, your grief so easily.
Let it cut more deep.
This is what a meditation retreat will do, you know.
Your loneliness, your grief, it will cut more deep.
Let it ferment.
And season you like few human or even divine ingredients can.
Let it ferment and season you.
Somehow, he says, somehow tonight,
what's missing in my heart
makes my eyes so soft,
my voice so tender,
my need for God so clear.
Sometimes, you know, I change that.
Since we talked about compassion, you know,
my need for compassion so clear.
Since we're Buddhist.
Don't surrender your loneliness so easily.
Let it cut more deep.
Let it ferment and season you like few ingredients human or divine can.
Tonight, something missing in my heart
makes my eyes so soft, my voice so tender,
my need for compassion and love and blessings so clear.
And of course, you know, the idea in Buddhism
is it doesn't come from anywhere else.
Each of us is the source.
And you know, our good heart surfaces
when we sit with things
and we don't surrender them too easily
and we're willing to be with what's inside.
Here's another poem by, you know, William Stafford.
This one I'll have to put on my glasses.
William Stafford is the one who, you know, I've told you before,
but, you know, used to write a poem every day
and one day a woman was interviewing him and said,
oh, you write a poem every day.
He said, yeah, I get up and start on the poem
and then I have to get the kids up, make them breakfast,
get them off to school, and I have a little shelf where I keep it
and then I work on it during the day
and if I haven't finished it sooner in the evening
when everybody's in bed,
I finish it.
And she said, well, how can you do a poem every day?
How can you be inspired day after day?
Day in and day out.
And he said, I lower my standards.
But here's one of his short little poems.
It's called, For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid.
There is a country to cross.
It's called, For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid.
You will find in the corner of your eye,
in the quick slip of your foot,
air far down, a snap that might have caught,
and maybe for you, for me,
a high, passing voice
that finds its way by being afraid.
That country is there for us,
carried as it is crossed.
What you fear will not go away.
It will take you into yourself
and bless you and keep you.
It will take you into yourself
and bless you and keep you.
That's the world, and we all live there.
Yeah.
There is a country to cross.
You will find in the corner of your eye,
in the quick slip of your foot,
air far down, a snap that might have caught,
and maybe for you, for me,
a high, passing voice
that finds its way by being afraid.
That country is there for us,
carried as it is crossed.
It will take you into yourself
and bless you and keep you.
That's the world, and we all live there.
So there's a, you know,
Buddhism has this great faith.
Practicing meditation is to, you know,
practice great faith that, you know,
that you can enter into and settle
in your inner world,
and you can live your inner world.
And, you know, bring your inner world to light
out in the world.
And that it's not something you need to keep
indefinitely hidden
until somehow you think it's good enough.
You know, that way, as some of my friends have said,
you censor yourself before other people have a chance.
And then you are so careful,
being sure not to do anything
that might offend or upset anybody
that pretty soon, what can come out?
How will you talk?
How can you say anything?
So anyway, this is, you know,
something of the art or craft of being a human being.
How do we do this?
So for me, it's interesting, you know,
how do I have an inner world?
Can I sit and allow my inner world to be revealed,
to be known, to be met, and to meet others?
You know, in Zen, sometimes enlightenment is not called,
you know, it's not always called enlightenment.
Sometimes it's called intimacy.
When you attain intimacy.
And when you attain intimacy,
it's not like you thought it would be.
It's not like you expected.
It's not some picture that you dreamed up
and then you tried to make come true.
Intimacy is what happens without your thinking about it.
So for instance, there's a Zen story koan
in a collection known as the Blue Cliff Records.
The Blue Cliff Record.
And it's the story about the 16 bodhisattvas
who went to the baths.
Do you know this story?
It's not your tradition, so I wouldn't expect you to.
It's a short story.
Not a lot to it.
You know, the 16 bodhisattvas went to the, one day,
went to the baths.
And they undressed and they got in the water
and they got wet.
And when they got in the water,
they all attained realization.
And they said,
subtle feeling reveals illumination.
And we are all children of the Buddha.
Subtle feeling reveals illumination
and we are all children of the Buddha.
For some of us, you know, this is an important question.
You know, is it okay to be here in this world?
Do you belong here?
Do you have family here?
And nothing like being a child of the Buddha.
You know, Thich Nhat Hanh says you have blood ancestors
and then you have spiritual ancestors.
So it's nice to have spiritual ancestors.
And of course, we're here in this room
because many people practice meditation,
came to retreats and wanted to create a space
and a piece of land like Spirit Rock
and to manifest this.
And I was at a retreat with Jack,
you know, 20 years ago.
And we came to look at the land here
because they were thinking about buying it.
And so many people contributed.
Many people worked hard so that there could be
a spiritual refuge.
And there'd be a place like this where people could come
and you could feel like, I belong.
I belong here at Spirit Rock.
I belong here on the earth in these hillsides
with these trees and the light in the sky.
I belong here.
Very important.
And the 16 Bodhisattvas took a bath
and they said subtle feeling reveals illumination
and we're all children of the Buddha.
Of course, there is a commentary, as you might suspect,
and you might be asking the same question that the commentary does.
Lots of people get in the baths and they get wet
and they don't attain realization.
And why not?
So there's two or three answers to this.
In this particular koan they say,
because they stick to their skin
and cling to their bones,
which is a little bit like me
and the way I stick to
why are these things out to get me?
You know, that's my story, I'm sticking to it.
And why not go after the people who aren't cooking for themselves?
But, you know, another kind of answer to
why don't people get in the water,
they get wet, they don't attain realization,
why not?
Because you were looking for a special experience,
you were looking somewhere else
and you thought and you said,
this can't be it.
Because it's not what you were looking for.
You were looking for something else.
You didn't get it.
Where is it coming from?
And then the other kind of issue that this story brings up is,
another one is,
suppose it's not,
your experience is not subtle feeling reveals illumination.
You have some experience and you're like,
this isn't subtle feeling reveals illumination,
this is just some crummy something.
I mean, we do this all the time.
You know, I had a,
what my neighbor calls,
when I told her about my tooth,
she said, Ed, you're telling me the story of a necrotic tooth.
It's a tooth that's died and then there's bacteria growing in there.
So I didn't think of that as subtle feeling reveals illumination.
That's a necrotic tooth and it hurts.
But you might anyway be looking for some special experience
that would make all the difference.
So the question is, if it's not subtle feeling reveals illumination,
is that subtle feeling reveals illumination or not?
Do you understand?
This moment now,
is it possible to let it be a moment with some blessing and compassion?
Where the blessing and compassion of your good heart
meets the pain and difficulty of your life?
And that's, you know, meditation.
And we sit and,
and then sometimes, you know,
something sort of cracks open.
And we sit with our,
in the midst of our good heartedness
and with our compassion
and our love and our joy
and our well-being.
And it's pretty sweet.
Okay.
So,
here's a little Buddhist prayer.
This is a,
a prayer that the Dalai Lama uses from time to time
and suggests that if you
recite this three times a day,
you'll get somewhere.
Unlike those of us who neglected to chant this
three times a day for 40 years.
Oh well.
With the wish to free all beings,
I shall always seek refuge
in the Buddha, the Dharma,
and the Sangha,
until the attainment of full enlightenment.
With the wish to free all beings,
I shall always seek refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma,
and the Sangha,
until the attainment of full enlightenment.
Enthused by compassion and wisdom, today in the Buddha's presence, I generate the mind
of enlightenment for the benefit of all sentient beings.
Enthused by compassion and wisdom, today in the Buddha's presence, I generate the mind
of enlightenment for the benefit of all sentient beings.
As long as space endures and as long as sentient beings remain, may I too remain to dispel the
miseries of the world.
As long as space endures and as long as sentient beings remain, may I too remain to dispel the
miseries of the world.
So, from time to time I do realize, you know, that I'm in the right school, you know, I'm
Finally, you know, a Zen teacher, after all, you know, there was one Zen teacher who said,
apropos of what I've been talking about tonight, awkward in a hundred ways, clumsy in a thousand,
still, I go on.
I don't know what else to do.
10,000 idiots.
So I, again, thank you for your presence and for your good hearts and wish you well with
finding your way in this world and in your own inner world.
It's a wonderful, you know, work, wonderful practice to make this kind of study.
Thank you.
We have perhaps a few minutes, I have some final announcements at some point, but any
questions or comments before we bring this to an end?
What's the movie?
Oh, the movie, what's the movie?
The movie is called How to Cook Your Life.
No way.
And it was, it just premiered at the Berlin Film Festival in February.