Good morning. Good morning. Good morning. I would like to introduce today Shai Jaku, Jaku Kinst. And she is the teacher, along with Shinshu Roberts, of the Ocean Gate Zen Do in Capitola. She's on the faculty of the Institute of Buddhist Studies at GTU and teaches Buddhism and Buddhist pastoral care. She leads the Master of Divinity program in Buddhist Chaplaincy there. And she received Dharma transmission from Sojon Roshi in 2004. And before that, she spent many years studying at City Center as well as four years at Tassajara. So, welcome, Shai Jaku. Thank you very much. It's really great to be here, to speak at my teacher's temple, and to see you all.

[01:00]

I thought I'd talk today about the relationship of stillness and activity. It's been my pleasure over the last few years to be a part of developing a Buddhist chaplaincy program and to support people in engaging in compassionate activity. So I've been thinking a lot about how we express the stillness that we find in Zazen, what the relationship is there. And I hope that it's probably of interest to you all, too. So, we can think of the stillness as a kind of profound wondering, a deepest wondering about the world, about who we are, about reality. So these aspects of stillness and this profound wondering,

[02:09]

this aspect and the aspect of how we express this in the world, our compassionate activity, what happens there? So, this is Zazen and getting up from Zazen. The intimacy of these two aspects of our lives is a kind of a koan. And when we follow this koan down to the source, when we practice with this koan at all times, when we trace its vitality, what we find is our true nature. So we discover or uncover or realize a kind of dynamic complexity. It's who we are and who the world is.

[03:15]

So we are called, we can say we are called, in a way, to sit still, to be still, to be the immensity of silence. I was listening to NPR the other day and there's a fellow that just wrote a book about silence and the noisiness of our world and how we create silence and how we can create silence. But as we know, silence isn't necessarily about no noise. It's about the place that we find when we sit down. So we're called to the immensity of the silence and we're also called to the expression of this, to the compassionate activity of this stillness. In fact, we know that the degree to which we embody stillness, that degree, when we actually do that, we are more and more compelled to express and enact compassion.

[04:25]

Don't you think? So there's a kind of maturation of vows, the way I like to think of it. I think that this is one of the reasons that there's so much interest in Buddhist chaplaincy and service. It's a natural thing. It's a natural thing that when we take up the core meaning of our lives, when we sit still, something grows there. Something wants to be expressed. So it's this natural unfolding that we see, we understand, we express our practice in this way. As the self-referential habits of our minds soften, we see the beauty and irreplaceability of each moment, of each being. Each and every thing is being itself,

[05:29]

is expressing itself with all of its might. Each unique moment, each thing. And we are intimately connected when we see in this way. We become ourselves most fully when we see in this way. These moments change us. So we can say that... We say in Zen and in other teachings, other Buddhist teachings, that the teachings and the practice are like a finger pointing to the moon. Have you all heard this expression? So the finger points at what's most essential, what's most true about ourselves and all beings. Without the finger, without direction, we wouldn't know where to look. We would miss the moon.

[06:33]

Following the directions of the finger, we see what is most essential. We see our true nature. We risk ourselves completely, yes? In this effort. So we see the moon because of the finger. We follow, we look, we wonder, we explore. We don't stop. We don't stop with the simple questions. We go for the hard questions. There's a Christian theologian, Fowler, who poses these questions. What are you living and being lived for? In other words, what is the most important thing? So when we take up these questions, we take up following the finger. But it's also true that without the moonlight,

[07:37]

we wouldn't be able to see the finger. If it were not for the light of the moon, we'd be in the dark. So it is our true nature that's always shining, that allows us to see the practice. So there's a kind of cycle here, you know? There's a kind of cycle. Finger, moonlight. Moonlight, finger. True nature illuminates the moon. It's the way. The way points us to our true nature. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Katagiri Roshi used to say, super speed. So we live at this intersection of moonlight and finger. It's another way of saying that Dogen said, we walk with our feet at the bottom of the ocean and our head up in the waves.

[08:38]

Both, at the same time. One of the advantages of being exposed to multiple teachings at the Graduate Theological Union and exploring alternate ways of talking about this is that we find other languages for this. So I'd like to share with you the teachings of Rabbi Abraham Heschel. This is what he has to say about it. This is a poem. Okay? It's a poem. We do not leave the shore of the known in search of adventure or suspense or because of the failure of reason to answer our questions. We sail because our mind is like a fantastic seashell and when applying our ear to its lips we hear a perpetual murmur from the waves beyond the shore. Citizens of two realms

[09:41]

we all must sustain a dual allegiance. We sense the ineffable in one realm. We name and exploit reality in another. Between the two we set up a system of references but we can never fill the gap. They are as far and as close to each other as time and calendar as violin and melody as life and what lies beyond the last breath. Isn't that beautiful? I think that expresses what we live, right? We are citizens of two realms. We don't leave the shore of our ordinary life or shore of the way we think ourselves to be who we think ourselves to be because reason doesn't answer our questions but because there's a sense of being pulled of being compelled to sit still, to discover stillness in our lives

[10:44]

and to express it effectively in compassionate activity. We live at this intersection of the moonlight and the finger. We live in this gap. We are citizens of two realms. We have dual citizenship. So we never fill the gap. When we live in this place I don't want to set him down there. When we live in this place even for a moment we live with tenderness and clarity. Those are the two qualities. A kind of tenderness, openness, availability but this is not a sappy tenderness. This is not a kind of romance novel tenderness. There's a clarity to it.

[11:47]

There's a movement to it. There's what the Tibetans call this Vajra energy to it. Discriminating wisdom. I see clearly. I act effectively. And I have complete tenderness and mutuality with this being before me who is no different than me. So we respond with tenderness and clarity. We don't turn away from suffering. It's interesting when we don't turn away from suffering we find joy. Yeah? Because when we develop this kind of tenderness and clarity when we rest in who we are we're not swamped by suffering. We don't go into what's called the near enemy of compassion which is overwhelmed. You know that balance? When we are completely grounded in ourselves

[12:48]

and we attend then we can be present for suffering and we don't slide on over into overwhelm which prevents us from acting. Without the clarity we get swamped. So this is this place in the gap. This is this vital presence. There's a kind of spaciousness in that place. A simplicity. So we just take care of things. But it doesn't have to be a big deal. We just take care of things. It's quite natural. So it's important that we set up camp so to speak. I like to say we set up camp at the edge of the known. We don't go over, fall off the cliff but we don't sit back in safety. We risk it. We risk it right at the edge of the cliff. We set up camp there.

[13:50]

So we become intimate with this dual citizenship and we develop a system of references. We know we will never fill the gap. Nor do we want to. We don't want to fill that gap because that's where we're most alive. That's where we live between stillness and action. Embodying both. One or the other, not enough. The gap is the unknown. It's the place of vitality. That's where we live because we embody both. So this both keeps us alive and it is us, this gap. So we sit in stillness. We become stillness. We risk ourselves completely in stillness.

[14:54]

And out of that emerges this response. We bear fruit. We are like a tree rooted in stillness and we bear fruit. We don't worry about what kind of fruit it is. We don't worry whether we are apples or pears or bitter fruit or sweet fruit. We bear fruit. We offer this. When people come by, they pick the fruit, right? We don't have to go sell the fruit. We grow, we bear fruit, we respond with tenderness, clarity, immediacy. So I want to share one other writing with you today if that's okay with you all. This is a poem. Actually, so is that. But I think it describes our Zazen.

[16:00]

This is by Naomi Shihabnai. It's called Kindness. Before you know what kindness really is, you must lose things. Feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go. So you know how desolate the landscape can be between the regions of kindness. Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow. You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows

[17:04]

and you see the size of the cloth. Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore. Only kindness that ties your shoes and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread. Only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say it is I you have been looking for and then goes with you everywhere like a shadow or a friend. Would you like to hear that again? Yes. Kindness. Before you know what kindness really is, you must lose things. Feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved,

[18:05]

all this must go. So you know how desolate the landscape can be between the regions of kindness. Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow. You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows and you see the size of the cloth. Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore. Only kindness that ties your shoes and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread. Only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say it is I you have been looking for and then goes with you everywhere like a shadow or a friend. I think we can say

[19:10]

that she's talking about the loss, the willingness to let go of everything in Zazen. Like T.S. Eliot says, it costs not less than everything. We don't like to hear that, right? We like to think, oh, but I can hang on to this one, this bit. Surely I don't have to give this up. But she's saying no. Before you know what kindness is, before you know the living reality of compassion, you must lose things. You must be willing to risk everything. You must feel future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. You must know the desert. Other traditions talk about deserts. You must know the desert, the place where things are not growing,

[20:10]

the simplicity of that kind of desolate landscape. You must know that. You must know sorrow. You must know the first noble truth, right? You must be willing to see sorrow, to know it, to wake up with it. You know it's interesting that she says that, to wake up with this. You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread, till you understand that your sorrow your struggle, your living reality is not different from the cloth of reality. So that your voice catches the thread of all sorrows and you see the size of the cloth. You see the size, the immensity of reality. Then, it is only kindness that makes sense.

[21:15]

It is only compassionate response to our self and all beings that makes sense. That's the only home we can come home to. Only, and then at that point, kindness ties your shoes and sends you out to look at bread, sends you out to respond to the world, sends you in to respond to the world. It is as if you have been looking for, it is as if, it is I you have been looking for and then goes with you everywhere like a shadow or a friend. In other words, it is this which then colors your reality. It is this which allows you to see and respond. So she talks of sorrow,

[22:19]

but we also need to talk about joy, right? If we miss that part, oh boy, do we like sink like a stone. So we must also become intimate with the joy of knowing what it's like when kindness ties our shoes. What is that like? Those moments, they come and go, they come and go, but there's a sense of aliveness and intimacy and responsiveness and service and joy that arises when kindness ties our shoes, when kindness sends us out to stare at bread. This is what it's like for us to live in the gap. This is what it's like for us to have dual citizenship. Don't you think? I'm done talking now.

[23:21]

I'd like to hear your questions, comments. Yes, ma'am. What you say, you know, like speaking from seeing the whole fabric or the other images that you give makes complete sense. I understand it. And then there's a but. Lately I often think of this line that I like in Hamlet where he sort of describes his depression and these two phony friends say, Oh, it must be because you're too ambitious. And then he says, Oh, God, I could be king. I could be bounded by a nutshell and count myself king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams. And sorry for the long spiel, but what I'd like to ask you is, could you say something about the difficulties

[24:24]

and the experience of letting go or getting free of your bad dreams to see the whole fabric and experience kindness and live on all of which makes sense, were it not that I have bad dreams. That is when we turn our bad dreams into our teachers. We turn our bad dreams into our teachers. We bow. Our response is to bow. We say, What have you to teach me about the real nature of reality? In that moment, they stop being bad dreams and they start being this vital presence that helps us go deeper. That's the only thing we can do with bad dreams. It's absolutely the only thing. Because otherwise our bad dreams are chasing us around and we all have them, don't we? We all have them.

[25:27]

I don't know a single being on the planet that doesn't have bad dreams. Maybe worse than others sometimes. But if we can find that place where we can turn and say, What have you to teach me about the nature of reality, about who I really am? Not that we believe them, but that we say, What would it be like for me to go deeper? To go deeper into a place where I can understand, I can truly understand that this is a bad dream. Not reality. It is an aspect that calls us. These, I think, are our greatest teachers. What do you think of that? Is there some... the willingness to bow like that instead of running? That moment is kind of mysterious. Yeah, it is. It's where we call on our courage.

[26:30]

We say we need courage along with our desire to practice, our compassion, our wisdom. The courage to connect with what is it that encourages us and gives us good heart. We need to study this in our lives. If we are going to face the reality of our world, we have to find the sources of courage. We have to find the friends, the images, the inspiration that allows us to actually make that shift and turn. What is it? What is it that encourages us? Thank you. Yes, sir? You were talking about the near enemy of compassion. Overwhelmed. I have always heard about pity. So what you are doing is you are giving me a whole different view of the fact that there is more than just one near enemy.

[27:34]

Yes. Would you talk more about that? There is probably infinite near enemies, right? The near enemy of compassion can be, Oh, I'm going to be compassionate to myself and go to sleep for about a year. So that would mean the near enemy would be sloth, right? So I think we can always think about what is it, and we are each unique in certain ways. We are unique about what our particular near enemies are. So pity is one that is talked about a lot because it's about how we elevate ourselves from others, right? Compassion is equality, and pity is, Oh, you poor soul. I, I'm enlightened, or I'm a Zen practitioner, or I'm a I, I, I, I'm whatever, right? And you are over there. It's a bit different. But overwhelmed undercuts our ability to act. So we have to be sane about what we attend to

[28:39]

and say, this is too much. If I go there, I will be, I, this one, this humble being, this human being that's flawed and tender and courageous and all of the complexity, if I do this, I won't be able to act. And this is very humbling. You know, we have to face up to the fact that we're not, you know, superstars. We're just people. And then we can respond. So I say, for me, overwhelmed is one that I have to pay attention to. Too much, and I, it's, you start to sink. Right? Too many pictures of polar bears stranded on icebergs. Too many, oh. So this is where we, again, where we find our supports for courage and enactment, and with sanity, with being in touch with the moonlight, you know, then we feel invigorated

[29:41]

and we can actually act. Yeah. So do you have any other near enemies that you would? No, I just, it's just, I mean, there's no way to look at it for me, so I appreciate that, thank you. Yeah. Yeah. Thank you very much for your talk, which I found really helpful about practicing in the gaps. Just yesterday, I came across a saying in Dogen, there are no gaps to put space into. Uh-huh. And I wondered if you could bring up that side of it. Uh-huh, great. Believe it's a Dogen, right? Every time we think we've got something, I tell you, it's like, I always like to think that it's like, every time you land, the rug gets pulled out from under you, right? And so what you have to do is learn to practice while you're flying through the air. Of course there's no gaps. How could there be gaps, you know? How could there be anything

[30:42]

but the seamlessness of reality? But we experience them, right? And when we experience this humanness of dual citizenship, the gap that we're talking about there is when we think we are one or the other. Now, for example, when we are stillness, when we are stillness, there is no gap between that and compassionate reality. There is nothing that can stop that. But we think there is. We make a difference between stillness and this responsiveness. So I think that there's always this uncomfortable place of, hmm, wonder, living in that place of between. So, thank you.

[31:45]

Really helpful. Really enjoyed your talk. I keep thinking of the word delusion, which I play around with. It doesn't seem really an operative word to you as much as you seem to look at things in a finite way, or, you know, go into the layers. And I like the approach. And how do you think about the word delusion or concept? Delusion? Yeah, well, we swim in it all the time, don't we? Yeah, you bet. You bet. It's with us, always. And so we always turn towards how does this teach me? How do I transform this delusion of separateness, this delusion of whatever the latest flavor is, you know, anger, depression, you know, separation, arrogance,

[32:48]

low self-worth, you name it, right? How do I turn this to actually face myself, face reality? How do I encourage, how do I use this to encourage a deeper investigation and expression of who I really am? How do I live my life in the moonlight? Yeah? That's what delusion does for us. We eat it. Thank you. Yes, ma'am? Maybe I didn't hear the words exactly, but how do you interpret after you tie your shoes, you can go out and stare at bread? Yeah. You know, this is a poem, right? So what I have to say about it is what I have to say about it. And you may have something completely different to say about it. But there is something about it that is so simple.

[33:53]

Yeah? Bread is like our ordinary food. We tie our shoes. We stare at bread. There's something to me that speaks of just this profound ordinariness. And it's like salt and bread and tying your shoes. So that's my response to it. But it would be wonderful if she was here and we could ask her and she'd probably come up with five different responses. OK? Or would you say it's like have you had your breakfast and washed your clothes? Ah, I think that's a good one, yeah. OK. I work with young children with developmental disabilities and their families. And I really want to see this work as a kind of chaplaincy, too. And the struggle I have, I think, is because the other people in my profession don't, I don't often meet people in my profession who talk about it in those terms.

[34:55]

And there also isn't like a chaplaincy program, Buddhist chaplaincy program for people who do the kind of work I do. I think I struggle with really feeling faith that what I'm doing is chaplaincy and also kind of, you know, community support. Yeah. Do you have any advice or comments on that situation? Yeah, I mean, you know, I think that what we mean by chaplaincy or pastoral care or compassionate response, it's all the same. And it can happen anywhere. It can happen, you know, I've always said that a compassionate bus driver would have a profound effect on people's lives. You know, to greet each being with respect and dignity and compassion, wow. You know, that would be a pretty powerful chaplaincy. So to see, to ground in yourself what that kind of dignity and definition is really important. And then to reach out to others

[35:55]

who may not be doing exactly what you're doing but who approach their work in the same way. And to find that kind of companionship and mutual support is very important. Yeah, so I would encourage you to reach out and find people with whom you can share that vision. Yes? So you mentioned swimming in delusion. And I'm watching that I'm constantly swimming in delusion. And one of the things, kind of an ongoing struggle for me is that desire is so overpowering in my life that motivation to practice is... it doesn't match the desire. It's coming up really strongly this week. It's just the power of the mind to distract. And so I guess I'm just wondering how to... Yeah, to stamp out desire is a foolish activity.

[37:00]

What we have to do along with anything that we consider a distraction to our practice is to transform it. The desire, your desire, is also the desire to practice. It's the desire to embody the Bodhisattva vow. So we study and clarify desire. What is it that you really want? What is it that you want to pour your life out for? What is it? This we take up as a koan, right? And we explore it and we go into it deeply. What is this desire? What is really going to meet that desire? Not satisfy it. That I don't believe is possible. But meet it. What do you think? Well, I guess my experience is that

[38:03]

the desires are very contradictory. So there's some desire for clarity and there's a lot of desire to remain unclear. So this is where you do this practice where it's like if you're doing a compassion practice or you're doing some of these more structured, reflective practices it doesn't matter what the object is. You don't study the object of desire. You study desire itself. Because if we study the object, that's like 60 zillion, right? But you can sit down and actually this is not Zazen we're talking about here. You can sit down and reflect on what is my actual experience of desire? What is it that I really desire? What is it that actually is going to meet that desire in an effective way? Where I feel my own aliveness

[39:04]

and my own ability to respond to myself and others. So that's what we do. In that way, we clarify what desire actually is. It's like there's all these desired flies kind of buzzing around our hands, right? And we don't attend to all the little content of it. We actually sit still with it and taste it directly. That's what I would encourage you to do. What do you think? Yes sir? Giving up things and having that as an avenue towards kindness. I find that oftentimes people with malicious intent have just the opposite effect. Where somebody takes something from me and it does not engender a feeling of kindness.

[40:05]

Oh boy, that's a hard one. That's a really hard one. When we let go of things we just allow them to go. Right? We just know that they're going to go. Basically. Whether we like it or not. The agent of them going may be someone with malicious intent. But it would go anyway because you're going to die. Right? It doesn't matter how fast they go. That's right. So if we know they're going to go then we can enjoy. And if someone, anyone with malicious intent does anything what we practice with is allowing ourselves to really develop compassion for that because we know we know from our own minds that grasping is painful and it comes from delusion and suffering. So an experience like that

[41:09]

is kind of like throwing down a challenge. Can I? Can I do that? Can I work with that? You know, it can take years. Really. I can tell you it can take years. Yeah. Yes ma'am. About what you were saying I had an experience on Wednesday. I was alone in my office and a person who was obviously homeless and probably mentally ill came in, a large man and he became out of control irate and was coming at me and I couldn't get to the door. He was about six inches from me with his hands and fists. I didn't know if he had a gun or a knife. And I had I had just shaken.

[42:09]

And the next morning I got up early and went to the went to the Zen center and I sat three times and I had a feeling something I needed something. And then when we were chanting just that you just now mentioned if someone with harmful intent should push you into a fiery pit by hope and compassion the pit of fire will turn into a pool. And all of a sudden I realized how much pain this person was in. And how unimaginable his level of suffering was. It doesn't negate what happened to me and my fear and taking care of myself but everything changed. And it it turned into an amazing day. I took the day off I went to the coffee shop I had connections with people that I talked to that

[43:10]

ended in hugs and it was everything turned. So the the pool turned into a the pit turned into a pool. Right? And this does not negate your own need to take care of yourself. Right? But this is what happens when we look at the finger. Right? We see the moon. Yes? Doctor, could you talk a little bit more about something I think Linda was getting at which is how do we investigate that um pivotal place where we might choose it's almost as though we have to give up we have to surrender um the delusion before we can accept it as our friend. It's like how do we find a place in there where there's choice?

[44:12]

We study it carefully throughout our day. This is not something this is something that we actively engage in is that we actually look for those moments of choice and what supports those moments of choice. We actively do that. If we don't, I think we're just kind of floating. So we have to bring our intelligence to it and our heart to it and look carefully. What is it that supports me to let go and to look carefully at how I choose and what I choose and how I live. What life do we want to live after all? You know, really? That's a basic thing, right? What's a world we want to live in and create? So I think this is the companion process to Zazen. I was going to mention that this word compassion I've been thinking about lately It's possible when

[45:13]

there are companions present with each other. Yes. So what are those companions? That's our call on, yeah? We have to end, I think.

[45:27]

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