Good morning. Good morning. I'd like to join with all of you in extending a warm welcome to Shibaka Okamura-roshi, who is here to teach us. And Okamura-roshi has been in the US for over 20 years. And for some time, he was the head of the Soto-shu International Division of the Soto Zen School. International Division in America, and he has devoted himself to the study and commentary and translation of Dogen Zenji, for which we're all quite grateful. Lately, he's taken a special interest in the poet Ryokan, about whom he's going to speak today. Good morning, everyone.

[01:21]

I'm really happy to be here this morning to share some of Ryokan's poems. Until yesterday, I had a seven-day genjo-e at San Francisco Zen Center, the city center, and this time we studied Dogen's Shobu Genzo Kaiinzanmai, or Ocean Seal Samadhi. And it was very fascinating writing, but very difficult. I had two lectures a day, and one lecture is one and a half hour. So, I spoke on Dogen for And, when I talk about Dogen, or his writings, I have to, you know, check each and every word and sentence he used, and also he quoted.

[02:28]

Many expressions he used were quoted from some sources. In order to understand Dogen, I had to go back to those sources and study So, it took me a lot of time, and I had to be very careful about talking about Dogen's writings. Each word may have a different meaning, very special in his own usage. It's different from common usage or meaning, or even in the original source, he often twists Yes. Even he used the same word in almost opposite ways. So I have to be very careful and precise.

[03:30]

But the last several years, right after Genzo at San Francisco Zen Center, I visited Berkeley Zen Center and talked on Ryokan's poems. And to talk on Ryokan is very different from talking on Dogen's. Dogen's poem is really fascinating also. It's beautiful. As beautiful as Dogen's writings. But when I talk about Ryokan, I don't need to be so careful. He's not a scholar. He's not a philosopher. He's a poet. So I can speak from my own without going back to the source of Ryokan. Of course, Ryokan also has some sources, mainly Chinese poems and some Zen literatures.

[04:37]

But it seems he doesn't care so much about exact meaning and logic. but he expressed his own mind or heart. Excuse me. Please. Before we continue, can everybody hear? Hello? Better? Good. OK. So, I'm happy to talk on Ryokan. And I have been talking some poems in this book, Great Fool by Master Ryokan. This is a collection of translations of his poems, both in Chinese and Japanese, Japanese waka poem. And each year I talked

[05:41]

on the poems in certain sections. And this year, I'd like to talk some poems in the section entitled, Strolling Without a Carer. Strolling Without a Carer. If you have this book, that is page 190, 192. This expression, storing without a care, I think needs a little explanation. The idea about strolling without care came from a Chinese classic, that was Chuan Tzu.

[06:47]

Do you know Chuan Tzu? Chuan Tzu is one of the two most important philosophers in Chinese Taoism. One is Lao Tzu, another is Chuan Tzu, or Soji in Japanese pronunciation. And probably I thought last year that when I talked about Butterfly Dream, not Doreen, but Ryokan, Ryokan loved Xuanzu. Xuanzu was one of the most important writings or source of idea for Ryokan. And this expression, scrolling, strolling without care came from the title of the first section of Chuan Tzu. So, in order to understand the original meaning, now I have to return to the source.

[07:50]

But what this means, when Ryokan or other poets use this expression, strolling without care, I'd like to introduce a few kinds of... Chuan Tzu is not like a Rao Tzu. This is a collection of very interesting stories, and Chuan Tzu expressed his idea about his life, and this story with a Because, I think that is why, you know, he, maybe this was not done by Chuan Tzu himself, but someone who made a collection of his writings. The person made this title, Strolling Without a Care, or in Japanese, Shōyō-yū.

[08:52]

Shōyō is strolling. And you are kind of disposing oneself, playing with, having a good time. And this is a translation of Chuang-Tzu by Burton Watson. And in his translation, the title of this section is, Free and Easy Wandering. Free and Easy Wandering, I think the meaning is the same. And in this section of Chuan Tzu, there are a few, or several, very interesting stories. The first one is most well-known. That was about the big bird. Do you know the story about the big bird? It's not from American TV. Not at all, no. In the northern darkness, in the northern darkness, there is a fish, and his name is Kun.

[10:05]

So, this living being originally was a fish, but somehow this fish transformed itself into a bird. The Kun is so huge. I don't know how many thousand Li. Li is a unit of length in Chinese. And today, 1D is about 4 kilometers. That means more than 2 or 3 miles. So, it's really big. Thousand D, he measures. He changes and becomes a bird. So, he became a fish, become a bird. Whose name is Pen? The back of the pen measures, I don't know, how many thousand, wee, thousand, wee, across, and when he rises up and flies off, so this big bird flies off, his wings are like clouds all over the sky, so his wing is like an entire sky.

[11:22]

When the sea begins to move, this bird set off for the southern darkness. So he was in the north, but he started to fly and go toward the south. And there is a south sea, and that sea is also in the darkness. which is the Lake of Heaven, the place called the Lake of Heaven. When the pain journeys to the Southern Darkness, the waters are roiled for 3,000 ri. He beats the wee wind and rises 90,000 ri, 90,000 ri. setting off on the sixth-month scale.

[12:25]

Wavering heat, bits of dust, living things blown about by the wind. The sky looks very blue. Is that its real color, or is it because it is so far away and has no end? When the bird looks down, so the bird was 9,000 feet above the surface, above the land, and he looked down at the earth, and it says, all the seas are blue, too. So the bird, from high up in the sky, planet Earth is only blue. That is a story.

[13:28]

And so this is simply a story about a big bird flying up high and seeing the world, and the world is simply blue. When I first read this, I was a teenager. And around that time, the first astronauts went to space, I think Russians. And the first person who looked down at the Earth from space said, you know, the Earth is blue. And at that time I was fascinated. Chuan-tsu already knew. Anyway, this, you know, viewing the world from up high, and it's only blue.

[14:33]

There's no such, you know, other colors or discriminations. It's only one world with one color. That is, I think, that is a point of this story, and this view of the big bird is compared with a view of a small bird like us. In the next page, I try to pick up another, not another, but compare this big bird with small birds. And it said, the scaly, do you know scaly? The small insect. Scaly, yeah. That, you know, live only about a week in the summer. The scaly and the little dove, dove?

[15:36]

Pigeon? The story of the big bird, saying, when we make an effort and fly up, we can get as far as the elm tree or the sapan wood tree. But sometimes we don't make it and just fall down on the ground. So those skaters or pigeons could only go as high as the trees. And still it's difficult, so they sometimes make mistakes and fall down on the ground. Now, how is anyone going to go 90,000 d to the south? So those small creatures laugh at that

[16:39]

when they hear the story of that big bird. So, those small, like a cicada or a pigeon, are like us, living on the earth. And we see so many different things. And we have our idea of what is good, what is bad, what should be done, what should not be done, that kind of things. So, we see many different colors. We have to make a choice to live our lives. So, those are two ways of viewing this same world. And, of course, because we are living on this planet, we cannot see the world from up high. And, seeing the world from up high, His practice means strolling without a care.

[17:43]

That means we don't care about that kind of small discrimination things, but see the reality as just one. So, these two sides are kind of similar in Zen practice. So this story with care has these two ways of doing things. And at the end of this first section, Chansu talks about another story that is about a big tree. There's another person named Hsui Tzu. Hsui Tzu said to Chuan Tzu.

[18:45]

Chuan Tzu's friend talked to Chuan Tzu. He said, I have a big tree. I have a big tree named Ailanthus. Ailanthus? A-I-L-A-N-T-H-U-S. Ailanthus? [...] A Each branch is too bent and twisty to match up to a compass or square.

[19:46]

That means this tree is useless for a carpenter. There is no way to measure it. No way to use it. So this is a useless tree. So this person has such a useless tree. You could stand it by the road, and no carpenter would look at it twice. Once a carpenter sees the tree, it's very clear that this is useless. So no carpenter takes attention, pays attention to that tree. And this friend said to Chuan Tzu about his thinking or his teaching. He said, your words, Chuan Tzu's words, too, are big and useless.

[20:52]

Big and useless. And so, everyone alike spurns them. So, no one appreciates your you know, talk such as about a big bird. It's big, but useless. It's good for nothing. Then, Chuang-Tzu said, replying to this friend's kind of criticism, Chuang-Tzu said, maybe you've never seen a wild cat, or a weasel, It crouches down and hides, watching for something to come along to hunt and catch to eat. It leaps and races east and west, not hesitating to go high or low, until it falls into the trap and dies in the net.

[22:05]

So, those small animals go everywhere to catch their food. And, sooner or later, those animals will be in the trap and maybe eaten. That is, I think, another analogy of our life in the society, in the world. We try to, you know, work hard making life, make, you know, money and get something we want. So, we work hard, but sooner or later, we disappear. And everything we attained should be left behind. That is our common life. Then, so Chan-tsu continues. Then, again, there is The yak, big as a cloud, covering the sky.

[23:15]

So, again, the huge yak. It certainly knows how to be big, though it doesn't know how to catch rats. So, this big animal doesn't know how to catch anything. So, this is also a useless animal. Now, you have this big tree. So, Chan Tzu retorted about this big tree, useless big tree. Now, you have this big tree, and you are distressed because it's useless. and plant it in not-even-anything village. Not-even-anything village.

[24:15]

This is the name of the place. And the literal meaning is, no-ka-u, means, nothing is there. So, it's like a, in Buddhist terms, it's like an emptiness. So, the village of emptiness. Or, or the field of broad and boundless. Relax and do nothing. Just plant that useless tree in the field of nothingness. Relax and do nothing without catching, you know, fruits. By its side, or lie down for a free and easy sleep under it. Acid will never shorten its life. Nothing can even harm it. If there is no use for it, how can it come to grief or pain?

[25:20]

So, from the beginning, this tree has no use. So, useless. But, what Khyentse is saying is, you know, if we plant this useless big tree, Because it's useless, no one tries to come and cut it to use for something. So, the tree can be really big, even though it's useless. And, Fat Shun Tzu recommended us, why don't you take a nap underneath the shade of that useless tree? So, he... kind of compare two ways of life. One is, you know, being useful to make something and to do something useful for human beings in the human society. That is one, not one, but it's our way of life, our usual way of life.

[26:26]

In order to be, you know, useful. So, we have to study something, and we learn the skill to make something. That is our common way of life. But, Fat Chan Tzu is saying that there is another way of life that is useless, beyond any use. And yet, it's viewed without any discrimination. And, this uselessness, this useless life, may have much, how can I say, greater use. And of which, you know, it can make a shade for the people who are always looking for something, and then chasing after something, or escaping from something.

[27:28]

But, to at least, of course we cannot stop living in that way, But at least, you know, to find that useless tree and take a peaceful rest might be a really good thing. So, that is what Chan Tzu is saying. Don't only... He's simply caught up in this, you know, noisy, busy, you know, human world to make something to be good for something. and to fight or compete with others to survive. That is OK, or that is what we do. But there might be another way of viewing this world or this life that is good for nothing, and that is OK. That way of life is called wandering or strolling without a care.

[28:30]

So, without a care means no such discrimination and get something we want or escaping from something we don't want. Chinese Buddhism, so Chinese was much earlier or older than Buddhism was a kind of opposition of Confucianism. Confucianism is a teaching to be a good member of the society. How can we become useful for the people to make this world or society in order? To do so, we have to learn many things and train ourselves and study

[29:32]

So, they said, don't worry about that kind of man-made way of life, but be just as natural and just enjoy your life. Take a nap underneath this useless tree. That way of life And when Buddhism was introduced from India to China, especially Zen people combined the teaching of Buddhism and this kind of Taoist, not a philosophy, but an attitude toward life. Don't care about the world, worldly details, but be natural. So, this idea of philosophy or teaching influenced a lot to Chinese Zen.

[30:48]

And Ryokan really liked this kind of way of life. Ryokan was from a very prestigious family in that region. That region was northwest part of Japan called Echigo or Niigata. That is a very cold country. They had a lot of snow because wet The wind from Siberia, from the north, carried a lot of humidity to go across the Japan Sea. And that wind, with humidity, hit the mountains in Japan to go up and make the snow.

[31:55]

So, I said, in that region, they had more than 10 feet of snow. And it said the entire town or city is covered with snow. That is where Ryokan was born. And Ryokan's family, I think from the 14th century, was the chief of that region or that town. old prestigious family, or people in that family, were very well educated and not so much interested in actual worldly business. And because Ryokan was the first son, he was expected to take over the family business.

[33:01]

And even his father didn't like that family business. He was very educated, and he was a very hype poet. And somehow he left, he escaped from the family business. and went to Kyoto and said he committed suicide somehow. And Ryokan was expected to take over that family business, but he was not good at it at all. So, when he was 18, 17 or 18, he escaped from the family and became a Zen monk. He started practice as a novice at a small Zen temple near from his town.

[34:04]

And later, he met a great Zen master. His name was Kokusen. And he went to his monastery in Okayama, called Entsu-ji, and he practiced with this Zen master. for more than 10 years. He received a Dharma transmission. So, he completed the training to be a Zen teacher. But, somehow, he also escaped from the institution of Buddhism. So when his teacher died, he left the monastery. And for many years, I think more than 10 years, we don't know. No one knew. No one knows who he was.

[35:04]

Maybe he was walking around all over Japan. And when he was about 40 years old, he returned to his hometown and started to live in a small hermitage named Gogowan. So, in a sense, he escaped twice. First, from his family business. Second, from the Buddhist institution. So, he became very free. So, he was like a big bird. And, he was like a useless tree. and his life is really useless from the common idea of how people should live according to the Japanese standard at that time.

[36:09]

And, commonly, that kind of useless person becomes a Buddhist monk. And they take care of, not worldly, but spiritual business. But, again, he escapes from that kind of spiritual business. So he was really like a good-for-nothing person. And even though he continued to be a monk, so he shaved his head and wore robes, his life was not like a usual monk's life in a monastery or a temple. What he did was in the nearby villages and towns. And often, while he was begging, he stopped, he forgot about begging, and he started to pray with children.

[37:29]

And he prayed with children all day, and returned home without anything in his bowl. so he didn't make anything for life. But because of his poetry and calligraphy, he became very famous. If he didn't write poems and calligraphy, maybe no one would know him. But somehow he wrote beautiful poems, and his calligraphy was really Wonderful. So, all people around him respected this person. He lived second half of 18th century and first beginning of 19th century.

[38:30]

So, he lived about 200 years ago. Dogen lived about 800 years ago. So, Ryokan was much closer than Dogen. So, we know many things about Ryokan's life. We have more information about his life than Dogen. About Dogen, we don't even know who were his parents. But, we know much of Ryokan's details in Ryokan's life. So, Ryokan lived as a good-for-nothing, useless person. I think that is the background of his life, and the basic kind of philosophy, but idea, how we see that kind of life.

[39:31]

We don't simply see that kind of people as useless, It's not only Ryokan, but there are many of that kind of people who lived in the monastery and just live. And somehow, as a part of Chinese and Japanese culture, we have a tradition to understand or appreciate those people who are free from worldly concerns. So, somehow, not only because he wrote beautiful poems or calligraphies. Those kinds of hermits who live outside of this conventional world have certain, you know, receive certain respect.

[40:34]

But from the person's view, there are some kind of complex elements. For him, I think, you know, the reason he left family business and also the reason he left the police institutions, he really wanted to be, how can I say, like a big bug. So he, I think, From one side, he has confidence. This is the way he wants to live, and this is the way that things should be. But, from another side, I think he has some kind of sense of guilt that he left, gave up his family, and he gave up a responsibility as a dharmaya of his teacher. So, within him, there are two sides.

[41:41]

always... sometimes means two sides are fighting. Sometimes they get together. That is a source of his... part of his... source of his poetry. So, in order to understand the poems included in this section, we need to understand that idea. That's why I talk about Chan Tzu's and Ryokan's life. So, we have a little more time, so I'd like to introduce one of his poems from this section. That is... I really like this poem. If you want to check, In this book, this poem appears in page 192, the first poem in this section of Strolling Without a Care.

[42:52]

Let me first read this poem. All night carried on the eastern wind. A spring rain soaks my heart's my heart's such roof. The master of the house sleeps soundly through it all, oblivious to affairs in the floating world. In the first light of dawn, green mountains stand forth, and spring birds twitter on their branches. I, too, leave my shelter, strolling along without a care. Streams gliding through the fields of distant villages brim with water.

[44:04]

Gorgeous flowers brighten the mountain's green forested slopes. That old man leading the ox, OX-OX, where is he from? The boy carrying the hoe, I wonder whose child he can be. The cycle of the seasons never pauses. And human beings all have their tasks. But what sort of work is there for me? To forever stand guard at the gate of my land. This is the end of the poem. So, this poem is about, is written in the spring.

[45:09]

What's the last word? Last word? My land. To forever stand guard at the gates of my land. So this is a poem about spring day. This expression, from the eastern wind. Eastern wind means spring wind. In the winter, the wind always came from north, especially that area, and it's very cold in that area. So when the wind blow from east, people are happy. Spring has come. So, probably during the winter, ryokan could not go out to the takuhatsu or baking.

[46:18]

But now, you know, it's getting warm, and flowers start to bloom. So, people start to work. And also, therefore, dogen... I'm sorry, not dogen. I'm still confusing. Ryokan... left his hermitage and walked down to the village to do regging. That is what he is writing in this poem. So, all night carried on the eastern wind. A spring rain soaks my heart such blue. So, having rain means it's warm. And since the rain stopped, that's why the master of the house sleeps soundly through it all.

[47:22]

During the winter, it's very cold, so probably he couldn't sleep so well. There is a fireplace probably in his room, but during the night, the fire goes out. So, during the night, it must be really cold, and he couldn't sleep so well. But when it's warmed up, he could sleep well. And oblivious to affairs in the floating world, vast floating world, this floating world means a world in which we are living is always changing. and nothing, how can I say, rely on. This is a very well-known expression in Japanese. The word is ukiyo. Probably, you know, the Japanese woodblock printing is named ukiyo-e.

[48:28]

That is, ukiyo-e means the painting of floating world. So, you know, And, of course, Japanese people have a sense that they enjoy that changes, or floatings, or impermanence in the other world. Anyways, because this person, Ryokan, is a good-for-nothing person, he has no job, so he doesn't care about things happening in the floating world. That is what he is writing here. of religious affairs in the floating world. In the first light of dawn, so morning is coming, green mountains stand forth. So everything is green now around his heritage.

[49:33]

And spring birds twitter on their branches. I, too, need my shelter." So, he left his hat to do begging. And, strolling along without a care. This is the source of the title of this section, strolling without a care. Actually, the word, ryokai-ness, in this line is not the same as the word appeared in Chon-tsu. but meaning is the same. So, he is walking even though that is for doing takuhatsu or begging. He had no appointment or no schedule, time schedule. So, he could start walking whenever he is ready or he wants.

[50:38]

No one expected him. So there's no more care about where he should go by that time. So he's walking with really strolling without a care. Streams grinding through the field. So now he describes the scenery of the village, not in the hamlet in the mountains. Streams gliding through the field of distant villages brim with water. Gorgeous flowers brighten the mountains' green-forested slopes, so he could see the flowers on the mountains and the field. It's a scenery of the spring. It's very beautiful. and he saw some farmers already working on the field.

[51:46]

So, that old man raising the ox, where is he from? I'm pretty sure he knew all people there, but because he saw those people working on the field from a distance, he couldn't see exactly who that person is. So, that means he was a kind of an observer, or outsider, from the group of people who were working hard in the field. So, the older one leading the ox, Where is he from? Another boy carrying the hoe. I wonder whose child he can be. So, you know, children also hate their parents. And children, each year children look different, getting bigger and bigger.

[52:55]

So even though, probably he knew who he was, who the boy was, Because boys are changing, so he wondered, who is this boy? Which family is this person from? So he was kind of watching and observing. People are working, farmers do the same thing every year. Farmers' work is really hard. They have to do many things every day. So they started to work from very early in the morning, even before sunrise, and they continued to work until sunset. But Ryokan had no such work. He was working without care.

[54:00]

So he has, when he wrote this part of this poem, I think he had a mixture, mixed feelings that, you know, he, I think one side he had a sense of guilt, you know, he escaped from his family business and he is spending his life in this way. of just, you know, begging and get some food. And if he has time, he wrote poems. And, you know, he just sleep. That way of good-for-nothing life. And these people are spending a busy life with a lot of hard work. And so he was separated, he was outside, and yet he cannot be completely free from the connection with those people working hard.

[55:13]

So, he was not like a ganshan, the cold mountain, the Chinese high. Cold Mountain also wrote many beautiful poems, and Ryokan loved Cold Mountain poems. And yet, he couldn't be like the Cold Mountain. He was really, really hermit. He never cared about people in the world. But Ryokan was much closer. with people in the world. Therefore, he has some, how can I say, struggle, I think, with him. So, he has to describe those people working hard.

[56:15]

And the cycle of the seasons never pauses. And human beings all have their tasks. This means that four seasons go around in the same way each year. And following the change of seasons, people's lives also repeat the same process. In the spring, they have to work. They start to work in the field. and during summer they had to really work hard taking care of the rice and vegetables and in the fall they had some harvest and during winter they couldn't work in the field so they worked inside the house so people were working all year around

[57:20]

following the change of seasons, and each person has something to do. Farmers work for farming, and craftsmen do their need to do, and merchants do their own business. That is the idea of Confucianism. In each occupation, they have to work diligently. So, Ryokan was out of that circle. has their own occupation within a community, so they have to, you know, do their best, make an effort to keep the community, you know, in a good shape.

[58:22]

So, next he has a question to himself. What sort of work is there for me. I think more literal translation is, what am I doing? What am I doing? I think it shows more kind of a sense of guilty and even he questioned to himself, why I live in this way? So, he is still not free from the world with society. And yet, he can't live in that world. That is, I think, a difficulty he had, even though he thought he had certain confidence in the way he lives. Even though he left home, his life is

[59:30]

you know, the way Chuan Tzu described, seeing the world from up high. And that is, in terms of Buddhism and Zen practice, it's free from discrimination, accepting everything without making any discrimination. That is the way of kind of enlightenment, or beyond discrimination. And yet, he still has a concern about the people in the world. That is a kind of, to me, that is a very good quality of his poem. He was not really like a big bird, but he understands and he has sympathy with small birds.

[60:37]

And somehow, he said, he's useless, he's a small bird, like other people, and yet the difference is he's useless. And he enjoys it. He enjoys it, and yet he has guilt, a sense of guilt. So his, how can I say, his life and his psychology is not so simple. That is a kind of attraction of Ryokan, Ryokan's poem to me, because I have the same kind of feeling. When I left home and became a Buddhist priest, I had the same kind of sense of guilt because I was also an older son. So, within Japanese culture, I had a responsibility to take care of my parents, even though my family didn't have family business because, well, my family had been a merchant in Osaka for six generations.

[61:49]

of the bombing at the end of World War II, my family lost everything. And I like it because I was released from that kind of family responsibility. If my family didn't lose their wealth, maybe I was the person who took care of that property. But because my family lost everything, my father said, you are free. You have nothing to inherit. And I trusted. I accepted what my father said. But for him, for my father, to be a Buddhist, more than he expected. So, my parents were not happy at all when I became a monk.

[62:52]

So, I had a kind of a sense of guilty that I give up my responsibility towards my family. So, I really kind of a 1130, I'm sorry. Anyway, this is the end of the poem. To forever stand guard at the gates of my land. My land means his family place, where he was there. So, even though he left home, but he couldn't leave the place. That was, this is kind of a complex, not simple psychology. Well, I'm sorry I talk too much, too long. I'm going to read some of the poems in this section this afternoon.

[63:59]

Okay, thank you for listening.

[64:06]

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