I thought about coming here tonight quite a bit, and at first I thought, I'm just going to go in there and wing it. There's a line in one of Sabrina's movies that one of these little rugrats says, I'm a big brave dog. And so that was a good feeling. And then I wrote you a letter, and I brought it with me. So, this is my wing. A Buddha's practice is to practice in the same manner as the entire universe and all

[01:04]

beings. If it is not practiced with all beings, it is not a Buddha's practice. This being so, all Buddhas, from the moment of attaining realization, realize and practice the way together with the entire universe and all beings. I think what Dogen is talking about here, and this is my idea, is that each of us, including this being, coming along with, belonging to, the entire universe, is what is meant by Buddha. Nothing is excluded.

[02:05]

And that also means that all of us include each other, and that no one is left out. There's a rule at my daughter's school that's posted on the wall in big letters, and it says, everyone can play. It's a rule. So if the kids make up a game and they say, no, you can't play, then all the children say, no, everyone can play. So I think this is Buddha's rule. Everyone can play. And that's what I want to talk about tonight. I wanted to begin tonight by dedicating what I've thought about and what I have to say

[03:17]

to Doris Heller. And I didn't know Doris very well, actually, not very well at all. I met her one time in New York City, at her house, long, long ago. And then off and on over the years, when she was with her daughter, Amala, and I liked her. She was a very spunky lady. Everyone seemed to like her. But I imagined that I didn't have time in my busy life for a relationship with Doris Heller, even after she moved here to Green Gulch. So I didn't. And years went by.

[04:23]

But I did notice that I was aware of the light in her room. The light of the TV, or late at night, when friends were visiting her, and the comings and goings of her family and her friends. And I began to feel some regret at the gap between my house and her house, because we were neighbors. One time, Amala was going away for a few weeks, and she said to me, this would be a good time for you to go visit my mother. And I said, oh, I would be happy to do that. And when I said it, I meant it. But things came up, and I was busy, and had other things to do, and so on and so on.

[05:31]

And finally, Amala was back, and I had missed my chance to go visit with Doris. And then Amala said, in her Amala way, well, why didn't you go see my mother? I can't believe you didn't go see my mother. But it's all right. She just assumes you don't like her. And I was kind of horror-stricken, because I really don't want to hurt anybody. Not really. And I imagined that I had, and I imagined that I was forever unwelcome. And then a few weeks ago, while I was in Mill Valley running around, I had this thought that I would like to go visit Doris.

[06:34]

And I saw myself going to Smith & Hawken and buying a flowering plant, and taking it to her door. And when she opened the door, I would be there smiling, saying, I'm sorry I'm late for my visit. You know, this is a year later, right? But somehow I lost courage, and I felt afraid that I wouldn't be welcome. So I let the vision pass. And I went on with what I was doing. So the next time that I saw Doris was the day she had died. The same day that I was to receive Dharma from my teacher. And I went to Doris' house on that day, and I knelt by her bed,

[07:37]

and I whispered to her that I was sorry I had missed our visit. And that I did like her very much, and wish her well. And those words came from what Emila later was to name the deep pit of regret. So in many ways, this experience with Doris was one of the most poignant lessons of my six-week study period. You know, I'd had this lesson before, with other people in my life, other family members, other friends, but I'd never gotten it on the point of the Dharma staff.

[08:39]

So I would like to say in front of all of you that I receive this teaching with both hands. And I want to promise that I will not miss another magnificent life that appears in my small corner of the universe. And I want to include myself in that. And I think I'm bringing it up with you because I'd like your help in doing this, in remembering this vow. When we meet here, the coffee, tea area, or along the path, face to face, heart to heart, irritability to irritability. Emila and I have promised one another that we're going to have tea regularly,

[09:52]

for Doris, and for Emila, and for me, and for all of us. So, time's a-wasting, and soon all of us will be dead. So, time's a-wasting, and soon all of us will be dead. For a very handsome, strong young man, a good friend. Birth and death is a grave matter, impermanent and swift.

[10:55]

Don't waste time. So, some of us were noticing that the two people who seemed to be the most calm and unaffected by all the suffering and sweetness in the Heller house this week were Doris herself and little baby Leonard. Have you all met little baby Leonard? So there they were on the two ends of the spectrum, just entering this life and just leaving this life. And they were perfectly content, both of them calm and accepting of these others, handling them, and washing them, and changing their diapers. No problem.

[12:00]

And it wasn't hard for me to go up to Doris and to whisper sweet nothings in her ear while she lay there, immobile and beautiful. And it wasn't hard for me to hold baby Leonard in my arms, snuggling without any strangeness or separation. I think the problem is for those of us in between the start of life and the end of life. You know, we big humans, we don't find intimacy such an easy thing to handle. So, there was a line that kept running through my mind off and on

[13:09]

during this six-week study period that I found in the Book of Serenity, and it's part of a verse in case number 98, which is called Dongshan, Always Close. So I want to read you that verse and I want to talk about it a little bit. This is by a Chan master named Yong, and even though it sort of indicates that his understanding isn't quite complete, it says it's sort of too much in the smoke, I think it is. Still, very interesting to me. The first line is,

[14:09]

This closeness is heart-rending if you search outside. Why does ultimate familiarity seem like enmity? From beginning to end, the whole face has no color or shape. Still, your head is asked for by Chaosheng. So I'm not so sure what this is all about, but I'm going to try to understand it and tell you what I thought about this verse, this poem. The first line, again, is, This closeness is heart-rending if you search outside. So what I thought of is that actually we do have a good feeling for this,

[15:18]

particularly from our time sitting. You know, if you are to consider right now how it is for you in the present moment, you know, this present moment, right here in this room right now, all the qualities, the flashings, the jittering, the light, sound, coming at you one after the other. So in that moment that we call the present moment, can you find anything that you can appropriate as yourself? Do you still have it?

[16:25]

How about now? So if you can, if you can find anything, then what is it that you're going to leave as outside of yourself? This closeness is heart-rending if you search outside of yourself. Where is the boundary or the line that separates the light from your eye, the sound from your ear, the feelings from your body, the thoughts from your mind? Where are you not included with everything?

[17:36]

It's pretty easy for us to know about this, to experience this, but I don't think it's so easy for us to understand it. And partly because we have been told for so long that we're separate. So this idea of non-separation is a little unusual idea for us. We've been told the opposite. I'm over here, you're over there. There's two of everything. There's right and wrong, good and bad, light and dark, up and down, left and right, me and you, alive and dead, and they don't meet. That's what we've been told. But this is not the Buddha's way.

[18:50]

The Buddha's way is that there is nothing that you can get a hold of and that there is nothing that you can push away. There you are, smack dab in the middle of everything. As Glinda the Good said to Mara the Evil One, be gone, you have no power here. And this is true of all notions of an independent, isolated self. Even the dead come back to life in our aching hearts and in our beating drums.

[19:52]

There's another story in this same case, a conversation between Dongshan, who is Tozan in Japanese, he's the big toe of Soto Zen, and he's talking with Chan Master Su Shan Ren. And from the sound of it, this is sort of like Godzilla meets Reptar. And the way I heard it, it's another angle on this, being completely honest with yourself about the present moment, about your experience in the present moment, really honest. What do you really know? What's really happening? As we sit and eyeball the birth canal and watch how this thing we call ourself

[20:59]

and this thing we call the universe co-arise continuously, like a great blue whale. So Master Su Shan Ren asked the great teacher, Dongshan, please teach me a word which doesn't yet exist. Dongshan says, No. No one would agree. Su Shan says, Then can it be approached or not? Think present moment. Can it be approached or not? Dongshan says, Can you approach it right now?

[22:00]

Su Shan says, If not, still there's no way to avoid it. There you are, right back in the middle. Dongshan agreed with him. This closeness that they are speaking of is heart-rending. If you search for it outside, you will never find it there. You will never find it anywhere, like the scarlet pimpernel. So seeking itself is already a mistake. I know this pretty well myself. I have the Dharma name Doshin, which means way-seeking heart,

[23:07]

always looking. So then why does this ultimate familiarity seem like enmity? Enmity. It's the same word as enemy. Why does this ultimate familiarity seem like enmity? Why does my family look like my enemy? This is my koan. Every time I'm afraid or doubtful. So I think some of you know the answer already. I think I'm beginning to understand. And it has to do with giving up everything. All of our favored preferences,

[24:10]

and views, and notions, and conceits, and putting them all into the fire of just this present moment. This sacrifice into the great fire is called the great death. And of course, anyone who encourages you to die is your enemy. I even wrote in one of the papers that I gave to Reb as part of our studying together, something like, you know, Bodhidharma, get your big ugly face out of my house. But of course, once Bodhidharma goes,

[25:11]

we miss him terribly. You know, just like Emperor Wu. Who was that guy? He says to his attendant, and his attendant says, that was the great Mahasattva Avalokiteshvara transmitting the Buddha mind seal. And even if you send 10,000 soldiers, you can't bring him back. Talk about the deep pit of regret. So poor Emperor Wu was searching outside of himself, his big self. I think this is part of the tension that we all feel living together here at Green Gulch. Just everything about this place defies our preferences,

[26:12]

our desires, and our personal way of life. You know, I don't like getting up at 4 o'clock in the morning. I'm serious, I really don't like it. And I don't like honey-coated tempeh. And I don't like being told that my beloved tent that I call the pavilion is ugly and has to be taken down. These are all true stories. Someone once said that the best way to find your imaginary self is when you're blamed or falsely accused. Who, me? There it is. Sabrina brought home another teaching from her kindergarten.

[27:16]

I wish I could go there, actually, I think I would learn an awful lot. They have a game they play in their circle in the morning, and one child points at the next one and says, You took the cookie from the cookie jar. And the child says, Who, me? Couldn't be. Yes, you. And then they said, Well, who took the cookie from the cookie jar? Roberta took the cookie from the cookie jar. Who, me? Yes, you. Couldn't be. Then who? Rick took the cookie from the cookie jar. Now we know that's true. He's in there all the time, alone with the cookie jar. So it goes like that. They pass the heat from one to the other. I think big people like that game, too. From beginning to end, the whole face has no color or shape. This is the third line. So, in this line, my feeling is that we're moving into the deep end of the pool of our being,

[28:26]

to the line in the Heart Sutra where form is emptiness. And at this level of our experience, when we are being completely honest and completely aware, completely quiet, completely present, when our body and mind of themselves have quietly rolled away, there is no coming or going. There is no birth or death. No eyes, no ears, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind, and so on. In fact, everything in the whole universe is freed from our imputations, our trips that we lay on everything. Everything. Our stories. There is just inhalations and exhalations,

[29:37]

like a great green turtle on the open ocean. Just wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. Still, our head is asked for by Cao Shan. Last line. This is really a yucky line. Because just when you're getting really quiet and peaceful and chilled out, they come for you. They come for the ordinary person. Nancy Schrader, would you please go up in front of the class and tell them what you've been doing for 20 years at Zen Center? Well, I say I'd rather not. However, Master Cao Shan has sent for my head,

[30:45]

and so has Master Shakyamuni Buddha and Master Shogaku Shunryu Daiyosho. Because they can only live if I'm willing to take the assignment. That the Buddha Dharma does not live outside of our tiny little selves. Just as Doris Heller had no life outside of all of the Buddha Dharma, she loved those people that she loved. And this goes for everyone in this room.

[31:48]

It's your responsibility. Nobody else. Each morning, when I made my rounds these last few weeks, 3.30, I walked by all of your rooms, and I imagined you all in there sweetly sleeping away. And one morning, I had a kind of image of you, of Cloud Hall, as a giant incubator. And there were all these little egg-shaped Dharma jewels being kept warm and safe. There's that wing again.

[32:49]

And I've heard that if the baby chick waits too long to come out, that it starts to rot. On the other hand, if it comes out too soon, it doesn't know how to breathe very well, with all of the suffering in the world. So I don't know if I'm ready or not, but I am deeply grateful to my teacher, Tenzin Zenki, Zenji, Reb Anderson Roshi, for his teaching and his patience and his behaving as if I am. And I am grateful to my Dharma sister, Maya Wender,

[34:00]

for her gift of Buddha's robe, and to my Dharma brother, Myo Lehi, who showed me the way, and my Dharma brother, Thaygen Lehten, who literally left his house full of shit to come and help me and be my jisha for a week. And to my Dharma sister, Mipham Hunt, who said she'd be here, and I think she might be, but I don't know where, for her years of friendship. And to my Dharma brother, Thayyo Lipscomb, for doing absolutely nothing,

[35:03]

and to Eva and Diana and Kevin and Grace and Sabrina, and not at all last, to all of you for living here with me in this amazing place called Green Gulch Farm on the foggy, foggy coast of California. Oh, and Stuart, Stuart Travis, for the Raksu. By what delusion do we believe our body and mind is apart from all Buddhas of the three worlds? Such delusion is groundless.

[36:11]

Thank you very much. May our intention...

[36:22]

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