I've been talking about the six paramitas quite a long time now, and all of them up until Jhana can be the establishment of an identity based on the idea of being. And as such, they represent a kind of cushion between Buddhism and any particular society, a shock absorber. And in any particular society, the Paramitas will be will take forms and emphases characteristic of that society. It allows Buddhism, in a sense, to have an acceptable face or a

[01:25]

or visibility as a positive moral force in a particular society. distinction. Some times can confuse Buddhists, it certainly confuses historians of Buddhism as to what Buddhism actually is. But the six paramitas are just doing charity or doing some good deeds, unless they're practiced from the point of view of the perfection of wisdom or from the point of view of the other shore. Paramita maybe means perfection or the other shore.

[03:03]

practices, social practices, these spiritual practices, both social and spiritual practices are practiced from the other shore. They are the expression and development of bodhisattva. I'd like to make a distinction, which has been a historical distinction, not so much Buddhism, but there's a distinction between metropolitan Buddhism and

[04:07]

mountain Buddhism. You can say cosmopolitan too, since Buddhism exists in so many countries, but or whatever root of that, citizen or city or public responsibility or governing group or something. In some sense, primarily, Buddhism has nothing to do with that. But it doesn't have not to do with it either. So most... my impression, I don't know exactly since I can't study everything in every language, but my impression is most of the great Buddhist leaders had both a metropolitan side and a mountain side. And Zen is a school which, even if it's in the city, emphasizes maybe the mountain side. Of course, all... San, all temples are called mountains.

[05:40]

the name for a temple. You can just call it Eheji Mountain or Tasahara Mountain or 300 Page Street Mountain. It doesn't make any difference whether it's in the mountains or not. But such teachers sometimes lived in the mountains with some band or group of disciples, and they either went to the city sometimes, or they sent disciples to the city, or they originally practiced in the city, or they live and practice in the city and their teacher was in the mountains, or they send disciples to the mountains. I'm not getting so much at whether you're located geographically in the mountains or the city, but whether your practice is one of service or trance or absorption. Metropolitan Buddhism is, shall we say, call it that.

[07:10]

in the countryside or in the city, in this sense countryside and city are the same, is characterized by a practice of selflessness or service or doing what anyone wants. I think the Paramitas are, all Buddhist practice, but particularly the Paramitas are said, supposed to be practiced from the point of view of the threefold purity, which is no idea of no idea of doer, or no idea of done to. So if you're giving somebody something, you have no idea of the gift, you have no idea of the receiver, and you have no idea of your giving it, or advantage to yourself, etc. Or in the ox-herding pictures, after the empty circle, he returns to the city. What I'm getting at is that while we emphasize the fact that Zen Center

[08:40]

one practice, Green Gulch, Tassajara in San Francisco. Still, there is some difference, and practice here, in the practice period, is not a simple continuation of what you were doing in the city. practicing, maybe in the city most people practice as a relief from distraction, and to accomplish their distraction better. But here there shouldn't be so many distractions, Life here is quite formal to prevent you from what I talked about last time, lapsing into those unconscious, awake, unconscious but not asleep activities that we need to do. As I said, sometimes they're like combing your hair or eating or letter writing or

[10:08]

something you feel you need to do, particularly if it attaches to the life you've left outside. In the city, I talked about it as maybe a contrast between static space and moving space. As you know, there's no such thing as static space, but most of us think of space as something static that we happen in. But no such entity exists. It's all one happening. If you don't happen in it, you think you can rest for a moment, you're mistaken. That kind of regrouping or sleeping, too, is a kind of static space to bring back the gaps in our perception between how we perceive it and how maybe it... what we missed and what we wanted it to be, etc.

[11:39]

So you'll never really come up against the sharp edges of those differences until you eliminate your opportunity to regroup and to absorb and smooth over what you do in dreams and in that kind of static or unconscious space during the day. So, anger, which we often consider something unconscious or something that pushes us around, that's rather beyond our control, and if we can control or eliminate anger, we think our life is more clear or maybe conscious. But the anger isn't what we should get under control, it's the rest of our life, actually.

[12:52]

Anger, if you get angry, it usually means the rest of your life is unconscious, and you don't like it interfered with. When it's interfered with, you become quite angry, and you want to go back to that unconscious, stable, undisturbed situation. But calmness is not protective state of being undisturbed, but rather being... There's nothing there to disturb, to absorb any disturbance. Or patience, you know. We think of patience as something difficult, something rather trying to be patient with someone or something. But patience is more like trying to stop a runaway car. The runaway state is not its normal state. So, from the point of view

[14:25]

the paramitas then. Patience is the normal state and what you're patient with, why you're thinking or whatever gets ahead and requires you to become patient with the problem. Thoughts themselves are the troublesome thing, not patience. something you don't even know you have. Other people say, oh, he's quite patient. He doesn't seem, he or she doesn't seem to be disturbed by things. Well, The next to last paramita is jhana, or meditation, or concentration, or samadhi. Each one of those means something a little different, but different ways of describing this fundamental

[15:59]

state, not state, the most fundamental description, experience of reality which Buddhism points So your practice here is more not so much service but yogic, how you can maintain or enter into a concentrated state of mind and not be disturbed by anything.

[17:28]

how your attention maybe should be limited to the width and breadth of your own state of mind or consciousness. So the fifth jhāna brings us to the question of what is your state of mind or what is consciousness or what is your body? what is this thing which gets hit with a stick when you're sleeping, or which eats three times a day, or which feels various things. And you should notice the difference between thinking and consciousness, if there is any. Most people, I think, identify thought with

[18:34]

consciousness. Without some thought you can't be conscious. But patience will teach you something else. It will show you some small separation which will become a wide door when you are slow enough to see things as they develop and occur. And you will should notice. That time when you're unsure. That time when you don't know quite what to do next. And normally, everything in you makes you move to the next stone. You know, like you're jumping safely to the next thing. But you should stop mid... in the air. And

[19:35]

Take your dwelling there, in that unsureness which doesn't have any object of what to do next. Patience, again, can begin to make that kind of space available to you. So you can see how what to do next comes out of that moment of unsureness that you were trying to avoid. moment of unsureness, which, although it makes you uncomfortable, may actually be certainty itself. So it's in this jhana, this fifth paramita,

[20:41]

It's emphasized that to practice it you have to have given up family and household and ties and attachment. And it's this point that Buddhism maybe is mountain Buddhism or is something quite radical or revolutionary. doesn't fit in any state. So when we do band together to practice, we have to make up our own rules. And we make up rules which force us into the state of jhana. Rules which don't allow our conscious activity to continue unless you use some finagling or deception to get around it and find space. But that's, when you do that, that's interesting to see what kind of person you are. I don't mean bad person. Suzuki Roshi used to say, the one quality that always came out in monastic life, he said, I can't understand why, but it always is there, this mischievous tendency to

[21:57]

It doesn't mean that you can't have a household attachment. It means that that priority must be of no significance in comparison to jhana. Or, how can we say? what I said in Green Ghost was the inside of the box. From your point of view, a box looks like this kind of box, round or square or whatever, you know? But from the box itself, which experiences its own space, doesn't make much difference what kind of sides it has, what kind of attachment, what kind of hinge or decoration, or what form it will be in the future. what form it was. Although it won't have any, although the space is defined by the side, it's not limited to the side. So when you know that, you know, what the sides of your life are, is relatively unimportant, are relatively unimportant.

[23:39]

And so we say, at this stage, you give up household and family and attachment and any idea of worldly position or status. Such things mean nothing to you. You may be offered some great status or no status, but still you remain an anonymous monk. It's like The example used is like someone who finds some great treasure, like the Count of Monte Cristo. And he has no use for it, so he leaves it there. He isn't interested in it at all. But later, he finds he possesses, without knowing quite why, he possesses certain parts of the treasure. And he may use them, or spend them, or give them,

[24:48]

But his attitude toward them, even when he possesses them, is the same as his attitude when he didn't possess them, or didn't care to possess them, when he might have been interested. So we practice entering again and again into the inside of the box without paying much attention to the sides and our practice becomes helping others to enter in again and again by our own entering again and again. It's the ultimate cure for the sides of the box. So the second stage of the practices, the fifth paramita, first is giving up. As the first paramita itself is, to begin with, giving up what you've accumulated up to this point, when you start practicing. Whatever you have, you give. And then you can, with that kind of attitude, you can practice conduct.

[26:26]

and patience and energy. And energy is characterized again in the city, I think I didn't say it here, more like how to stick to something, while patience is more how not to stick to anything. So we start these all over again when we come to jhana because actually it's so important and what everything else is based on. Why the paramitas are not just practices of some social good but spiritual practices of the bodhisattva is because they're based on the perfection of wisdom or on jhana. So the first is giving up any identity, any being, and cutting off household ties, cutting off your connections with the sides of the box. The second is, sort of as compensation for something so radical,

[28:02]

to practice the four unlimited feelings of friendliness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity, even-mindedness. And those are characterized, the practice is characterized by alertness, You have to be quite alert to know what friendliness is, or sympathetic joy, equanimity, and how you actually go. The next stage is the realization of that the five skandhas, form, feeling, perceptions, impulses, consciousness, are empty.

[29:05]

what they exist, how they exist in you, and what their nature is. Then after that come the four jhanas, four states, new earth, too complicated, I'll go through it. So the important thing this stage and in this practice period is to know what your consciousness is, what your body is, what your mind is, but what they are. And you don't have to think about, you shouldn't think about Zen Center as a whole so much, what you're going to do next practice period or whether you'll go to the city or what kind of position or work or job you'll have. Anything you have is okay. And anything and things that don't appear in your state of mind, in the width and breadth of your consciousness, you don't pay so much attention to.

[30:32]

I mean, you don't have to figure out what that person is doing. We don't figure that way here. You want some other way of knowing things and of knowing other people. They will appear in your... Everything here exists for you without you figuring out by discursive thinking. So in this kind of practice period where we're not emphasizing service so much as we're emphasizing jhana, or absorption, or trance. I don't mean trance isn't so good, you'll walk around in trance, you'll walk into the backhoe, but some state of concentration, knowing always reminding yourself or bringing yourself back again to what your actual state of mind is. If your state of mind is a little disturbed and you're hoping in the next period of Zazen is calmer, back off that hope and stay with the disturbed state of mind. Don't sort of tune out a little bit until it goes away, until you feel a little better.

[32:00]

Whatever you're doing, working, doing cement work, pouring cement, doing kinhin or zazen or service or meal-serving or eating, what is the width and breadth and depth of your state of mind? What exists there? Don't look for something outside. What kind of calmness and activity is there? Tassajara is pretty well taken care of. And if you just follow the rules, you don't have to worry so much about anything or think about what to do next. It's a pretty rare opportunity. Everything is taken care of. for each of us, by all of us. And by this tradition we inherited which so wisely has told us how to take, suggested to us how to take care of life here so we can practice jhāna.

[33:23]

Do you have something you want to talk about that we should talk about? I keep expecting to be done with the summer and it to be practice period. And it is. But I keep the summer still in my mind. And I feel silly all of a sudden. I'm sorry, but it seems funny to me to do all of a sudden after the summer. And I don't understand, I can't, I just won't, it won't draw. I can't drop the summer somehow. I think that all of a sudden is wonderful and I feel like if I think about the summer, I'm wasting what little opportunity there is. In the winter. Maybe we needed a longer interim. Really, maybe there's some... We actually need some break. I think you went from guest season, right? And your practice period, you know. You may have been too quick. But if you'd like, we have a guest... guest Green Gulch, if you'd like to go up to Green Gulch and take care of some more people. I know what you mean.

[35:12]

How can I discuss the source of your thoughts more? What did you mean by source? That kind of statement like that, which doesn't make much sense, or it may make sense verbally, but you can't quite get a feel for it. Like a painted surface in which there are no openings, but you're sure there's a door or window somewhere.

[36:56]

When you don't have a feeling for it, that's a very good clue that you should stay with it. Examine that painted surface very carefully until you find some opening. I can't do anything except tell you there's doors and windows and sky and things like that. I can't feel the paint on it. Yeah. The outside of the box, the sides of the box you mean? Yeah, you could call it. Yeah. I don't understand how I can do anything without it doing something to me. And if you can't stand that, then feel free to let me know that you can.

[38:25]

Well, you're brought to this point by your karma, and at this moment you're free, but of course you're still brought to this point by your karma. But your karma doesn't actually It's accumulated, but it's accumulated because you instantly re-pile it up each moment. It doesn't... It's accumulation exists because of your active participation with it, or unconsciousness of it. So, you have to get out of the static space of your time, not you, all of us, into that space where you see how you're creating yourself each moment. It's like getting out of the... I don't know if any of you saw a movie quite a few years ago. I don't know what it was called. Maybe it was called... You're all so much younger than me. Not all of you.

[40:14]

Maybe it was called the Third Man theme or something like that. The Third Man. I don't remember. Anyway, there was a... Ray Moland was in it. And there was a tennis game. And everyone was playing tennis. And Ray Moland was chasing somebody, or one of the tennis players. So everybody was watching the tennis game like this, you know. A whole crowd of people like this. And he was the one head in the whole crowd. Just like that. like when I was a kid. When I was a kid, I was practicing whistling once, like that, and all the kids were taking naps, and the teacher too. Why the teacher took a nap, I don't know. It was first grade or something. So I was going, And I went... And everybody, of course, sat up. Teacher sat up. Everybody laughed and laughed. And I realized I didn't clap. But usually we're on the outside of events like

[41:43]

watching a tennis game. Maybe our first practice is to stop your head and not get caught by the ball. But still, we see what happens after the ball's been hit. But actually, you can be there before the ball's hit at the source of your thoughts. Then you begin to have the surprising feeling because you know what someone's going to do next. And a second or so later they do it. Something mysterious it seems like at first. It's not mysterious at all. It's just that actual events occur much more in a wider range. The spectrum of color, of light that's visible to us is rather narrow in comparison to everything. The actual range, the actual spectrum. So the spectrum of the happenings is quite wide, but we only notice a certain part of the tennis game. So your practice of the Paramita's patience is maybe to stop your head

[43:06]

And energy is to start moving with a ball. Something. I don't know. Don't turn the tape recorder off. Last week, when you left, were there any questions about your experience of Japanese darkness? And what you were saying about, you know, he's building a stone wall, he'll just take whatever that person hands him and just build a wall. Also about not being bothered by what ghosts do, And I just can't really fathom going through these acts without not bothering, especially in the situation of working for someone else. I mean, I can't imagine, you know, money-wise, what his attitude was, since that's the situation I've been in. Well, the person who cut off the four posts may have been, or should have been, more bothered than he was, perhaps. But the head carpenter wasn't bothered at all. I mean, the head carpenter not being bothered by it. He wasn't bothered by it, because it just was some new situation to work with. I mean, if it ruined the building, he would have pulled the beam out and put another one in, but just made it look a little different. But he... It's a combination of... It's interesting, you know, it's too much. I mean, you get into not just Buddhism or that level of a craft, but cultural things.

[44:33]

and the Japanese carpenters are extremely flexible with what is in the process or has already happened, but not flexible at all with what has not yet happened. For example, in the roof, they ran out of copper, and they decided to put copper on, and on their own and paid for it themselves, because the tile roof, which was going to come with the house, would have split, and the tiles would have frozen, and the temperature And Sierra would have slowly flaked the tiles, you know. And there's no way to replace tiles so easily as in Japan. So they decided the roof should have copper. But then they ran out of copper because someone made a mistake in Japan in sketching the proposed size of the roof. Because actually they built, modified the house as they went along here, the temple. And so they got to a certain point and they'd run out of copper. And in America, they don't make the flexibility and thickness that they wanted, but the closest flexibility and thickness they could get was too narrow. So instead of making shingles this size, we suggested, why don't you just make shingles that size, up near the ridge, and no one will notice, it just looks like the foreshortening was more fore, shortened more.

[46:03]

They wouldn't do it at all. And they said, it's a law. And I said, a law? A Japanese law? They said, no, a carpenter's law, a Japanese builder's law. If we start with this size shingle, we make it the same size all the way. Here we are in a remote part, fairly remote, place in the Sierra, at least as far as Japanese culture is concerned. We would drive through a wasteland of gold mine diggings. It's like a moonscape, you know, to get there. It feels pretty unlikely place for them to be concerned about. But I think if it had been in Siberia, they wouldn't have cared. Some Japanese traveler might have come by. Somebody might have said, this was built by Japanese craftsmen, and they didn't do it right. So they were willing to pay for extra width copper and throw the waste away rather than change the size of the shingle. But that was inflexibility, shall we say, before. But if all the copper was already made into the wrong size, they might have just put it up without ever mentioning a thing. I don't know exactly. It's a little different.

[47:26]

A lot of people, Noam Chomsky and a lot of contemporary thinkers, I guess Claude Lévi-Strauss, think that fundamentally our consciousness is the same, our way of perceiving is the same in all cultures. It may be true, but my own understanding is that it's so fundamental, at the level at which it's the same, that it's almost not a point, that it's different, actually. A culture like the Japanese culture has such fundamental different ways of organising space-time and the way they receive information, that I would guess that if you tested the way in which the cones in their eyes sort information, it's already at that level different than the way our eye sorts information, what we see in the environment. And certainly the way we put it together, whether it's already happened or not happened, it's a pretty fundamental different way of sensing reality. So that kind of thing is of quite a bit of importance for Buddhism.

[48:52]

for us studying Buddhism here in this country. But it's interesting, I think, because I didn't... I think I mentioned this to Greengill friends, but I think people like Alfred North Whitehead and Charles Olson and other... a few other philosophers and a number of other poets have actually done a great deal in creating a language for us to speak about non-dualistic, think about. change our mode of thinking proprioceptively rather than perceptively. How does the box experience itself? How are we supposed to let people know what we're like if we don't express ourselves? I think I understood you correctly last time you spoke. You said that we should leave things unexpressed. And you also said that this is a good opportunity to let people know what we're like. You can't help but express yourself. There's no way you can get out of it. Yeah, well, that's the least I can say.

[50:29]

Well, you know, some people, you know, would say that zazen is... that doing something like dances expresses yourself. And doing zazen, just sitting still, you're not expressing yourself. But Suzuki Roshi used to say that if you all sit the same, I can tell each of you what each of you is like. But if you're all doing something different, expressing yourself, I can't tell anything. That kind of... Break time?

[51:36]

You mean like coffee break? What do you do with it? Why do we have it? It would be too much if there was no break time at all. People couldn't take it. But also, to figure out what to do with your break time is something, too. I don't know if it's a... I mean, here at Tassajara there's never been a question exactly what it is, except it's clear it has to be there. But we have adjusted it over the years to quite a lot, to a little, to too little, as the schedule has changed, as we've felt out what it looks.

[53:05]

There's other little breaks. I implied some other kind of break time. I'm not sure. Maybe what I said was enough. The last time you spoke about doing nothing. I find that whenever I'm on the verge of doing nothing, then at that time something always arises, and I always assume I never get to do nothing. So how could you do that something which arose but continue to do nothing? What constitutes doing something? I mean, I'm not asking you to answer. That kind of question you can ask. What turns a nothing into a something? Are some somethings more doing than other doings? What do we think? Why do we say this is a doing of a something and that's a less of a something? You know, that kind of... It's consequences. I keep... I'm going to stop and then I will...

[54:36]

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