Good morning. Thank you all for coming. The joint is full. Before I introduce our guest teacher for the day, I'd just like to welcome Sojourner Shini. He's back. He's here just briefly and going back to Tassajara on valuable friend to Zen practitioners in the West through his translations, his translations of Dogen, his translations of his own teacher, Uchiyama Roshi, through his teaching over a good number of years. He is still the director of the Soto Zen Buddhism International,

[01:04]

But most of his time nowadays is spent as the head teacher at the Sanxing Zen Community in Bloomington, Indiana. So we're really lucky to have him here with us today. Good morning, everyone. I'm really happy to be here this morning. I had a chance to give a Dharma talk here a few times before. But now I live in Indiana.

[02:12]

so I cannot come too often. So I'm really fortunate to have time to visit Berkeley Zen Center and share practice and teaching. This time I came to San Francisco because we had One week, Genzo-e Sesshin. Genzo-e is a gathering to study Dogen Zenji's Shobo Genzo. And for one week, I gave lectures, 90 minutes lecture twice a day for seven days. So I talked a lot. So this is a little extra. But, you know, this time I talked on Shobo Genzo Bussho or Buddha Nature.

[03:21]

Shobo Genzo itself is a little difficult to talk. But Bussho is one of the most difficult chapters of Shobo Genzo. But today I'm released from Dogen and I'm asked to talk about my teacher. So I feel kind of relaxed. This morning I'd like to talk about my experiences with my teacher. And this afternoon, I'm going to talk on one section of this book, Opening the Hand of Thought. I first read my teacher's book when I was 17 years old.

[04:26]

I was a high school student. I didn't find any meaning in life. I mean, I had many questions. But it was early, second half of 1960s, and I wanted to find the meaning of life. Why I have to live, and how I should live. because this question arised because I had a question about the society in Japan at that time. To me, the Japanese society in the late 60s and early 70s seems like one huge money-making machine. Entire society is one machine to make money.

[05:31]

And people, Western people call Japanese as economic animal. And that was started around when I became a teenager. And because of that economical, you know, development, I lived in a small town between Kyoto and Osaka, named Ibaraki. When I was a kid, the population of that town was about 30,000. But when I finished high school, the population of that town was more than 300,000. That means, you know, when I was a kid, there are many, a lot of rice paddies and woods and beautiful Shinto shrines and clear stream to pray.

[06:38]

All those things disappeared or destroyed with the name or under the banner of development. and they built many factories, houses, and Shinkansen, or the blood train, and highways. When I was a child, those were not there at all. That area was a really beautiful farming town. So when I was a high school student, I had a question. Why? What is this? And it seems even the school, the high school, is like a factory to produce a part of that huge money-making machine.

[07:43]

And if I studied hard and went to a good university, then I could get a good job, and I could make a lot of money, and I could have a big house, and a good car, an expensive car. And at the end of this way of life, I couldn't find any meaning to live in that way of life. When I was a student, the thing I was expected by my parents, teachers, and the entire society is to study hard, work hard, and to make money. And I didn't want to live in such a way. So I often escaped from classrooms and went to a library

[08:50]

Until then I was a good student, good boy, but I stopped, I quit to be a good boy and try to find a better way of life. I read many books on religion, philosophy, history, literature, all those things. And so, actually, almost I couldn't graduate. But somehow my teacher didn't want me to stay there. Because he knew even if I stayed there, I didn't study anyway. So he pushed me out. That was the time I encountered my teacher's book.

[09:56]

Actually, I had a classmate who had the same question, and he visited Antaiji. Antaiji is a place where my teacher, Uchiyama Kosho Roshi, and his teacher, Sawaki Kodo Roshi, lived and practiced. And that was 1965. That was the year Sawaki Roshi died. And also the year Uchiyama Roshi published the first book. And Uchiyama Roshi gave his newly published book to my classmate. And he allowed me to read his book. That's how I encountered my teacher's book. And when I read it, somehow I wanted to be his disciple. Of course, I was a 17-year-old kid.

[11:00]

I knew nothing about Buddhism or Zen. But somehow, his way of life, not his teaching. I couldn't understand his teaching or his practice. But somehow, his way of life was really attractive to me. I mean, when he was a high school student, he had the same question, and he wanted to find Fatty's truth. And in order to find the truth, even though he didn't know Fatty's truth, he studied Western philosophy at Waseda University. and I think he mainly studied German philosophy and he finished graduate school. Actually, before that, while he was a student in his early 20s, he met a beautiful woman from a very high

[12:09]

society, family, and he married that woman. The woman, I think, was, I don't know, several years older than him. And they lived together for four years, but his first wife had TB, tuberculosis, and she died. and Uchiyama Roshi transmitted TB from his first wife, and he lived with TB for the rest of his life, more than 50 years. Anyway, so he When he finished graduate school, his first wife died, and he became a teacher at a Catholic seminary in Kyushu.

[13:16]

He taught Western philosophy and mathematics, and also he wanted to study Catholic theology. because he thought in order to really understand Western philosophy, he needed to understand Catholic theology. And also, he was interested in becoming Catholic. But after six years, he found he couldn't be a Catholic because of the institutionalism. And he quit that job. Later he said that six months is the only time he had a regular job and regular income. So after six months he went back to Tokyo and married again. But his second wife also died.

[14:19]

About one and a half year later, when she was pregnant, she became sick and died so suddenly. That was very, of course, very painful experience for him. And that experience and that, you know, experience of impermanence, he made his mind to become a Buddhist monk and he was ordained when he was 29 years old, by Sawaki Kodoroshi. And after, since then, he practiced with Sawaki Roshi for until Sawaki Roshi's death in 1965. So almost 30 years, he practiced together with his teacher. and he found this practice of Zazen taught by Dogen Zenji was the real or true way of life.

[15:33]

So he found his answer to his inquiry and after that he continued to practice And he wrote books about his inquiry of truth and practice. And after Sawakiroshi died, he continued studying, practicing, and he taught what he found. And at that time, not at that time, but still, Antaiji was a very poor temple. Antaiji had no member. I mean, Japanese Buddhist temple has members to support the temple, but Antaiji had no such supporters. So he, Uchamuro, supported his practice by takuhatsu.

[16:42]

Takuhatsu is begging. So Antaiji was very poor. So his life was very in poverty. He was not interested in making money at all. and he was just searching the truth or reality of life. I think that was a point attractive to me. I wanted to live in such a way and I knew through books there are such people such as spiritual teachers or religious teachers in the past within books But Uchiyama Roshi was the first actual person I knew. I think that was why I wanted to live like him.

[17:46]

So I went to... Well, before that, I wanted to visit Antaiji. That was after graduation from high school. But somehow I couldn't find a temple. Later, when I went there, I knew why. And Taiji was a very small temple, and it's not like a temple. didn't have a temple gate. So when we see from outside, it doesn't look like a temple. So I couldn't find it. So I made up my mind before becoming a monk, to go to university to study Buddhism. and I knew Komazawa University was a Soto Zen Buddhism and Sawaki Roshi was a professor there for a long time. So I went to Komazawa University to study Buddhism and Dogen Zen's teaching.

[18:54]

Fortunately, At almost the same time, Uchiyama Roshi had a chance to come to Tokyo. The university was in Tokyo and Antaji was in Kyoto. But he came to Tokyo to give a public talk and I went to listen to his lecture. And that was the first time I actually saw him. And his lecture, at that time I had already started to study Buddhism and a little teaching of Zen. But his talk, his way of expressing Dharma is completely different from usual Buddhist teachers. His talk is really from his experience, from his way of life. And it's very understandable.

[20:00]

So when I first saw him and listened to his talk, I was sure this person was my teacher. And next year, that was 1969, in January, I visited Antaiji and did a first five-day Sesshin. Sesshin at Antaiji was exactly as he described in this book. During five-day session, we had no lecture, no service, no work period, no nothing. But Zazen. Of course, we had three meals. Three meals and short breaks after each meal.

[21:04]

woke up at four in the morning and we sat two period, two 50 minute period until six and we had breakfast and we had short break and we sat from seven to 12, five period in row. And we had lunch and short break and we sat again from 1pm to 6pm. And we had dinner and we sat again from 7pm to 9pm. So we sat 14 periods a day. I was 20 years old. And the zendo at Antaiji was kind of not in a good shape. I mean, between pillars and walls, there are space. And that was in January.

[22:10]

Fresh air comes in and out. So it was very cold. And in Tokyo, I read books until midnight or even until early morning and slept until late morning. But I had to wake up at four in the morning. So I felt like I was in a jet lag. The day is almost upside down. So I was very sleepy. It was cold, sleepy. And the first two years, I started to practice sitting. To sit in this posture means to have pain. I had a pain, of course, knees and, you know, feet and ankles and backs and necks.

[23:18]

And... So, for, you know, a 20-year-old student, it's not an easy practice. So, when it's over, I was very happy. And I thought this was my last Sesshin. I thought this is not for me. So I went back to Tokyo. But somehow, somehow I returned. I don't know, I didn't know why. but now I think I understand why I had to. Anyway, when I first read his book, his first book, the title of the book was Jiko, Jiko means the self, and that was a collection of his essays he wrote

[24:30]

before that year, 1965. And one section of that book was about his searching of the way. And one explanation of the Zen was very understandable even though I was a 17-year-old high school student. I could understand what this means and I still feel very fortunate to have such an explanation from the very beginning of my practice. And when we made the revised version of this book, Opening the Hand of Thought. The editor, Jisho Warner, asked me to write an introduction.

[25:36]

But that was the time I was in the process of moving from San Francisco to Indiana. So I couldn't really write, I didn't have time to write an essay. So I wrote everything that came up in my mind and gave it to her as a kind of material. And she used that material and she was kind enough to make up my essay in this book. So my introduction in this book was actually not mine. Of course, the material was written by me, but she polished it and made it into a real writing. So I really appreciate her work. And part of the materials I sent to her

[26:40]

is the translation of that explanation of Zazen by Uchiyama Roshi. And Jisho used that translation in a different place. In this book, here is it. Anyway, in that first book he explained the practice of zazen using an analogy of earth and the clouds and sky. He said, if we draw a circle,

[27:46]

with a pencil, the diameter is about 20 centimeters, or that is about eight inches. The thickness of the pencil, the pencil line, is the atmosphere. The air exists. And he said, we are living underneath the clouds. And when we see the clouds from the earth, sometimes, you know, this entire earth looks like completely covered with clouds. And sometimes we have storm. Sometimes we have very peaceful white clouds. And sometimes the sky is completely blue without any clouds.

[28:47]

And sometimes, you know, we have very thick, dark clouds. All different conditions of clouds are coming and going. It's changing. So depending upon the condition of the weather, we feel we are happy or not so happy, or we feel pain or we feel terrible. Sometimes we feel like we are in hell. Sometimes we feel we are like in heaven. So our condition is always changing. depending upon the weather. And our psychology is also influenced by the change of not only weather, but the change. But he said that things happen only in a very thin atmosphere, that is thinner than a pencil line.

[30:06]

compared with the size of the Earth and also the entire universe. So, above the clouds, the sun is always shining and the sky is always blue. But because we are living underneath the clouds, somehow we have to live together with that change of conditions. And our psychology, things happening in our mind, is the same as a cloud coming up somehow and stays for a while and disappears. All different conditions of our mind, all different kinds of thoughts, feelings, anything happening in our mind is the same as clouds coming and going within this very thin layer of the air.

[31:18]

And beyond the clouds, the sun is always shining, and the sky is always blue, but we cannot see it. And he said, our life is the same. Our life is much deeper and much broader. but we are worrying about the things happening only this, you know, thin layer of our psychology. And what we do in our zazen is just sit and let whatever comes up from our mind, our conscious mind, come up and any thought stays forever. At least in my experience of the Zen, no single thought stays forever.

[32:29]

Somehow it comes up, stays for a while, and disappears. So our thought is really like a cloud. Somehow it comes up, stay for a while, disappear. Sometimes the clouds were so thick and so powerful and we have storm or lightning or we may have flood or we may have tsunami. whatever condition really arises. But those are happening only within this thin layer of our life. Our life is much deeper and broader. And what we do in our Zazen is keep this, you know, posture upright and be like the sky. in which thoughts are coming up like clouds and stay for a while and disappear.

[33:37]

We don't control the weather. We don't control. Our practice of Zazen is not a way to eliminate the clouds or keep the clouds from coming up and try to make the sky always blue. And it's not possible. That is not what we are supposed to do in our Zen. But we do nothing. We don't control the weather. But keep everything coming up freely and go away freely. We don't interact. We don't, you know, fight against. We don't play with. We just sit and breathe deeply from our abdomen and keep our eyes open, not closed, and let go of whatever is coming up from our mind.

[34:40]

That's all we do. When we sit with this attitude, we are really like the big sky in which we are coming, I mean, any different kind of thought or psychological condition, come and go. That was his explanation of what Zazen is. So he didn't use any Buddhist term. You know, I talked about Shobo Genzo Busho for one week at the city center. Shobo Genzo is really difficult. But according to my understanding, the difficult writings by Dogen, I had to talk for one week, three hours a day.

[35:53]

I think it's really exactly the same thing which Amoroshi explained without using any difficult Buddhist concept. And I still, after almost 40 years later, I still use this explanation of the Zen whenever I give the Zen instruction. It's really concrete and understandable and practical. Nothing difficult to understand. But still, that is, I think, a very deep explanation of what our Zazen is. So I really, you know, even when I was 17 years old, I could understand. Of course, I knew nothing about Buddhist teaching or Zen teaching, but I could understand what this means.

[37:04]

I think that is the most attractive teaching of my teacher. So I became his disciple. I was ordained in 1970. You know, at that time, late 60s and early 70s, in Kyoto, we had many Americans and Europeans came to practice Zen. and they were so-called hippies. And some of them lived in the neighborhood of Antaiji and came to sit almost every day and every Sesshin. When we had Sesshin at Antaiji, we had about 50 to 60 people. and one third of those participants were resident practitioners of Atantaiji, that means monks and a few lay practitioners.

[38:19]

The next one third were Japanese lay practitioners, and another one third, were foreigners, so many people, many foreigners, Westerners, came to practice with Uchiyama Roshi, but he didn't speak English or other European language, so he encouraged his students to study English. And when I finished university and started to practice with him at Antaiji, he encouraged me to study English. And he said, from now on, we need a person or people who explain Dharma and practice in Western language. So he said, why don't you study English?

[39:22]

And I was not interested in studying English at all. Until then, I studied English for more than 10 years at middle school, high school, and college. But I didn't speak any English. And I was not interested in. So I really don't want I didn't want to, but somehow I couldn't say no. That was a problem. And that half-hearted yes determined the rest of my life. That was why I'm here now. So I started to study English, and those hippies became my friends. And when he retired in 1975, he asked three of his students, including myself, to come to this country.

[40:33]

So in 1975, I came to America and lived in Massachusetts to create a small zendo there. The name of the zendo is Pioneer Valley Zendo. It's still there. Anyway, so I was 26. I was not mature enough. But anyway, he retired, so I had to go somewhere. So I came to this country. basically practice zazen and work for building the zendo. Actually, we did everything. That means we bought six acres of land, but we had nothing other than trees. So first we had to cut the trees and dug the stumps and made green gardens and built our own zendo.

[41:38]

So we are almost like Robinson Crusoe. Since in my 20s, it was okay. I thought the more I worked, the more my body become stronger. It worked in that way until I turned into 30s. When I become 30s, my body was half broken. So I had to go back to Japan. And when I went back to Japan, Uchiyama Roshi encouraged me because I couldn't work for Dharma with my body. So he asked me to work with my mind or head. That means work on translation. So I started to work on translation.

[42:40]

And the first work I did with one of my Dharma brothers, whose name was Daizu Tomuraite, is the second version of this book, Opening the Hand of Thought. And I practiced in Japan another 12 years in that way I had a session each month with Tom Wright and worked on translation. And I came back to this country in 1993. I taught at Minnesota's Meditation Center in Minneapolis. And Uchiyama Roshi died in 1998. So when he died, I was in this country, so I couldn't see his death, and I couldn't be at his funeral at that time.

[43:54]

I was in Portland, Oregon. I had a session there. At the time I lived in Los Angeles, I went back to Los Angeles. There was a message in the message machine. The message was from a friend of mine in Japan. He said, Uchiyama died. And when I got that message, his funeral was already over. So somehow, you know, I still could not believe that he died because I didn't see, you know, that he's dying or his dead body. Anyway, When I think when he was in 70s, he retired when he was 63.

[44:59]

That was 1975, because he had TB. And so he was physically very weak. When he was 63, he couldn't continue to practice that kind of Sesshin. That's why he retired. And after that, he said his practice in his old age is watching, not watching, maybe watching his life and death. That means basically he's dying. how to see the reality of aging and dying. And he wrote many articles and poems about life and death.

[46:00]

If I have time, I'd really like to translate his essays and poems about life and death. But now, at least now, I don't have. Anyway, when he was in his seventies, he was very sick. And he himself, and also we expected he was dying. I think during that time, he made a small collection of poems about life and death. And I'd like to introduce one of his poems from that collection. The title of this poem is Samadhi of the Treasury of the Radiant Light.

[47:13]

Samadhi of the Treasury of the Radiant Light. This is a translation of the Japanese expression, Kōmyōzō Zanmai. And Kōmyōzō, or Treasury of the Radiant Light, of course, means Buddha's Light, Buddha's Eternal Life. And this is Samadhi. You know, same as Jijyu Zanmai or Samadhi of the Self, Dogen Zenji described in Bendowa. Anyway, this poem is very short and precise. He said, Though poor, never poor, Though sick, never sick, Though aging, Never aging. Though dying. Never dying.

[48:15]

Reality prior to division. Herein lies unlimited depth. Herein lies unlimited depth. Let me read this again. Though poor. Never poor. Though sick. Never sick. Though aging. never aging, though dying, never dying. Reality prior to division, herein lies unlimited depth. You know, in our conventional sense, the first half of each line was reality of his life. He was poor because, as he said, he only had a regular job six months out of his entire life, 85 years of his life.

[49:23]

He worked only six months. And although more than 20 books were published, But when he published his books, instead of receiving money, he received books and gave the books to people, his students and friends and people. So he was really poor. But he said he's never poor. He was aging, which is before. Oh, he was sick. Actually, he was really sick. And yet he was almost dying. And yet he said, never sick. And he was aging, of course.

[50:26]

And yet he said, never aging. And although dying, never dying. To me, these two is two layers of our life. And this, I think, this is exactly the same as our life in his explanation of the Zen. The life underneath the clouds and the life including the condition underneath the clouds and beyond, above the clouds. the sun is always shining, and the sky is always blue. Of course, as a reality, conventional reality, you know, when we are dying, all people are poor. Even though they have a lot of wealth, still they cannot use that wealth anymore.

[51:31]

When we are dying, and we are sick, aging, and dying. That's the reality of our life. You know, even Shakyamuni Buddha, when he was dying, you know, he was poor, he was a beggar, and he was sick, he said he had pain, and he was aging, and he was dying, and actually he died. But in the biography of Buddha's life. When he attained the Buddhahood, or attained enlightenment, it's said he attained eternal life. become free from those suffering, from giving birth and aging, sickness and dying.

[52:37]

And yet, when he died, he was exactly the same condition. So, if here we can find the freedom from those, you know, suffering, shō, rō, byō, shi, living, sickness, aging and dying. We can find that revelation from those suffering only the reality including that blue sky above the clouds and actually our life including body and mind, itself like a thought in our Zazen. Somehow it appears, stays for a while, and disappears. So his explanation of Zazen is really his explanation of his, not only his, but our life, reality of our life.

[53:50]

Underneath the clouds, we are born, live for a while, experiencing sickness, aging, and dying, and we suffer. And yet, at the same time, we are never poor, never aging, never sick, never dying. And this is the Buddha's life. And Buddha's life is not someone else's life, but this is our life. And I think Our practice of the Zen allows us to awake to that much broader, boundless life. To me, that is essential teaching of my teacher. Well, it's 11.15, so it's time to stop. Any questions? No question.

[54:55]

Good. Please. About Sawakiroshi, as far as I know, we just had the Homeless Kodo. In Japanese, are there other writings? Sawakiroshi is actually More than 20 books were published in a collection of Sawaki Roshi's teishos, but he never wrote any books by himself. Those books, those 20, more than 20 books were records of his Dharma talk. I'm sorry, but someone translated one book his, Sawaki Roshi's, lecture on Shodokan.

[55:59]

What is Shodokan in English? The Song of Enlightenment of the Way, or something like that. And yet, it's not published yet. Okay? Would you please translate all those? Give me another lifetime. Thank you very much.

[56:32]

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