Good morning. I thought Zen practice was supposed to be about being simple. We've got more gidgets and gadgets up here than I expected to say nothing of all the stuff I brought in with me including the telltale signs of where I've been. And I went for a walk to see if I could drop this koan down a little farther and I got caught by the cat. I'd like to say a couple of things about Zendo etiquette before I begin my more formal remarks. It will aid and abet our attention and care with your posture. If you have long hair, if you can pin or tie the hair up

[01:04]

so that it's possible for Blanche or me to see the upper part of your back and your neck. I also want to invite you to explore some way of walking in the Zendo which will be an aid to your attention with each step. And that is to, when you walk in the Zendo, place your weight on the ball of your foot and then your heel. You may at first feel a little awkward but in time I think you may find that it's not only much more quiet but it's a way of walking which helps you stay present with each step and not so readily at your destination before you get there. The third point that I want to suggest is that if you find yourself having a lot of difficulty with sleepiness

[02:06]

and this may be more of an issue in the afternoons but if you find that you are going to sleep a lot and you can't wake yourself up you might try doing Zazen standing at your seat. My experience is that I don't escape into sleep if I'm standing up given the possibility of falling over. I've been thinking a lot lately about how our practice in the Zen tradition and in the wider stream of Buddhism is so much about going beyond limitations. And I'm struck as we have entered into the pool called Sashin how much this particular practice of long sitting is about discovering what our limitations are

[03:11]

and discovering over and over again how much we can go beyond what we imagined was possible. Particularly if we don't think about the Sashin as one event. Oh my goodness, I'm going to sit here until Friday afternoon. The experience of sitting here will be very different when I hold that kind of thought than if I sit for this period. Blanche and I, when we talked about what theme we wanted to work with for this week talked about these two koans from the Blue Cliff Records that Suzuki Roshi used to lecture on and settled on the third case called Sun-Faced Buddhas, Moon-Faced Buddhas.

[04:13]

I'd like to read the preface to the Blue Cliff Records from Tom Cleary's translation to set the stage, so to speak. Boundless wind and moon, the eyes within eyes, inexhaustible heaven and earth, the light beyond light, the willow dark, the flower bright, ten thousand houses, knock at any door, there's one who will respond. I would like to invite you to pick up this case this week and in the future

[05:26]

with the possibility of you yourself becoming the case. Imagine what that might be like. Imagine how in doing that what happens is this case from this ancient text becomes revealed in the detail of our lives in each moment. The Blue Cliff Records were introduced in Japan by Dogen Zenji and it is said that he discovered this collection the night before he left China and he was so taken by this collection of stories and verses, poetry and prose that he sat up all night his last night in China making a copy

[06:28]

so that he could take it with him back to Japan. So there is a version of the Blue Cliff Records called the One Night Blue Cliff Records what Dogen could copy out in one night. This collection is a Chang, that is Chinese Zen Buddhist collection, a classic. There are a hundred anecdotes about old ancestors and their disciples and their exchanges with each other. Koans, the word koan comes from a word which translates as public case and I wondered for a long time, what does that mean? Cleary suggests that one way of understanding this notion of a public case is that these are very much like cases in law that are referenced

[07:31]

to indicate a particular standard or insight, a reference point. These anecdotes, these various stories were compiled in the Sung Dynasty and were used extensively in the Tang Dynasty. That period in China when there was a great flourishing of Buddhism and particularly of the Zen tradition. Late 10th and first half of the 11th century is the Sung Dynasty in particular. And over and over again my association with the Blue Cliff Records is encouragement by Suzuki Roshi and other teachers to meet the material meticulously and in detail.

[08:36]

I think it's very helpful to keep in mind that these stories come from a period when there were large monastic communities where there was a kind of intensity of effort and practice by a large number of people and there is a kind of essence of this effort to practice realization that gets carried by some of these stories. I have with me three translations of the Blue Cliff Records and I thought this morning I would reference the translation that was Suzuki Roshi's resource when he was lecturing on these various stories. The translation by Tom Cleary is more recent and I find myself studying it these days wishing that Suzuki Roshi could have enjoyed this wonderful translation.

[09:46]

I suspect that Tom Cleary who is a tough translator with very high standards is probably talking about the RDM Shaw translation which was for many years the only translation available as one of those where the translator says too much, explains too much. So what we have in the Blue Cliff Record model subject number three is a pointer or kind of introductory word, an interpretation, the case itself, an appreciatory word and then more interpretation. The principal character in this case is Matsu.

[10:53]

He was in the lineage of Huineng who was a famous teacher in China. Interesting because he was a poor, a peasant who was a woodcutter and so when he was recognized as a great realized being his teachers said, let's do this in private because it's going to cause a lot of ruckus if you are recognized in public during this time when there is such an emphasis on scholastic learning. So Matsu comes out of this tradition. He is like the grandson of Huineng. He is called Baso in Japanese. He was born in Sichuan province in 704 and died in 788.

[12:03]

Introducing he said, one gesture, one posture, one word, one verse. Now if one plans such an approach in teaching disciples that is like gouging out wounds in good meat, making holes and cavities in it. The great activity is before us manifest. There are no regulations in it. If you plan to make known to men that there is an absolute throughout the whole heaven and the whole earth the search for it will not succeed. Supposing one does attain, and what if one does not attain in extremely small manner? Supposing one does not attain, what if one does attain in extremely critical manner? And if you don't pass along either of these roads

[13:12]

what is the right thing to do? I ask you. I will tentatively put the matter before you. Ponder it. There then follows an interpretation of the pointer by Engo who says, many teachers try to approach their pupils and make contact with them by the use of gestures expressing their own mental attitudes or they take up special postures to make clear their meaning. Methods such as these are not the really correct ones. The truth can never be brought home to men by such methods. Teachers who do that sort of thing are like cooks who spoil the good meat by bad methods of cooking gouging out holes and cavities in the food unnecessarily.

[14:14]

The truth, the good meat, neither needs nor holds rules and regulations, sects or dogmas, words or phrases. The spiritual reality, which is a spiritual reality does not consist in such things. The great reality consists in its presence of striking character before our very eyes. It is in the natural qualities of nature the beauty and comeliness of its colors and form that we shall find intimations of the manifestation of the great reality. It is not by talking about it that the truth will be revealed to us. Moreover, whether one grasps the way or does not grasp it

[15:21]

is from one point of view really only a trifling matter. On the other hand, from another point of view whether we do not or whether we do grasp it is only a trifling matter. This is of vital importance. And what if we do neither of these things? Neither search nor refrain from searching? What shall we do? Ponder over the following subject and see what you think. So here is the story about Baso or Matsu. Attention! Baso, the great teacher, was unwell. The temple's chief accountant, the head of the temple, visited him. Sir, during these recent days, how is your health? The great teacher said, Sun-Faced Buddhas, Moon-Faced Buddhas.

[16:24]

There's a note which says, The Sun-Faced Buddhas' lives were for 1800 years. The Moon-Faced Buddhas were for one day and one night. And let me read you briefly Suzuki Roshi's commentary. Although you are looking forward to the bliss of teaching, you do not know that you are always in the midst of the teaching. So your practice does not accord with your teacher's. Once you realize Buddha nature within and without, there is no special way to follow for a student or any specific suggestion to give for a teacher. When there is a problem, there is the way to go. Actually, you continuously go over and over the great path of the Buddha

[17:41]

with your teacher, who is always with you. Negative and positive methods, or the first principle and the second principle, are nothing but the great activities of such a character. The Buddha nature is quite personal to you and essential to all existence. As some of you know, I spent the last few days in Minnesota visiting Kadagiri Roshi, who lived and taught at Zen Center during the time that Suzuki Roshi was alive, from the mid-60s until the early 70s, and then went to Pacific Grove for a short time and then went to Minnesota, where he has been the teacher at the Minnesota Zen Center. And he has, over the years, come periodically here to teach. He was, for a year, the acting abbot of Zen Center.

[18:45]

So he's someone that, for a number of us, has been a teacher and presence. And as I mentioned last night, he has lymphoma, which has re-emerged after a long round of chemotherapy. This time it is now showing itself at the base of his spine, the middle of his spine, and in his brain. So I went to spend a few days with him. And while I was there, I kept reading this case and thinking about what this case points to. Asking myself, both for myself and on behalf of all of Kadagiri Roshi's students, what do we do when our teacher passes over?

[19:48]

What do we do when our teacher leaves us? In this case, what happens when this teacher dies? Periodically, the head of the temple or the several people who have this function go and they peer into Kadagiri Roshi's face and they say, Well, how are you? How are you doing? Please get well. We want you to get well because what will happen to us if you die? And in fact, what is directly in front of us is this person whom we have practiced with who is moving in that way that comes with physical pain, with having a headache, with pain that comes and goes at the base of the spine, the kind of pain that arises in anticipation

[20:51]

of having a spinal tap taken, which if you have ever gone through such a procedure, you will understand what it means to anticipate the pain of this big needle stuck in your spine taking the fluid out, being mixed with chemicals which are then put back into your spine in an effort to kill the cancer but not the rest of you. So I found myself going back and forth between wanting to will Kadagiri Roshi to continue living and seeing how that clinging, that grasping would take me away from just sitting with him, breathing, taking him slowly through some relaxation exercises,

[21:56]

reminding him about breathing, especially exhaling in the face of the kind of tightening and holding of breath that comes with pain, with fear, following his breath, paying attention to my own, sitting with one of his students and practicing together, visualizing what the cancer looks like now and realizing together how important it is to start with things as they are and not jump right away into things as they wish they would be. And yet, to keep alive the possibility of being what the doctors call lucky, there are those cases with these aggressive cancers

[23:00]

where for some reason that is a kind of mystery, suddenly the cancer goes into remission. And Kadagiri Roshi said, you know, my name when I was a child, my name before my teacher gave me my Dharma name, my name was Lucky. And when I first was given my Dharma name of Great Patience, Dainin, I didn't like it. I liked my earlier name, Lucky. So here he is again remembering his name as a child, his mother calling him Lucky, and all of us saying, it's time for us to call you that too. I was very struck by the quality of sweetness, of extraordinary affection and kindliness

[24:03]

and the timelessness of time and place as we sat together. As I watched Kadagiri Roshi leaning up against one of his sons, Eijo, who was reading a Japanese comic book, and Hojo-san would lean up against his son, bumping against him, kind of bugging him a little while he was reading his comic book, but also enjoying that wonderful contact, physical, cozy, leaning up against father and son, sometimes playing with each other's feet or holding hands, not having anything to do except to just be with each other. There is a great worry among his students.

[25:11]

Oh, what if he dies before he has a chance to give his students Dharma transmission? What will happen to us? What will happen to us? He's been here for more than 25 years, and in all these years of teaching, if we haven't learned something from him, which we know right now, which we can remember every time we go to our cushion or pick up a text to study or go for a walk or wash the dishes, haven't we already received enough from our teacher? Does he have to give us a signed and sealed certificate before we know we can continue? Clinging, always clinging, always wanting the sun-faced Buddha

[26:14]

and forgetting about the moon-faced Buddha. This koan gives us a chance to notice that encounter, that brief encounter when we are completely one with things as they are, willing to let that meeting be as brief or as long as it will be. I remember when Suzuki Roshi first became sick and how for a long time only he and his wife and his doctor knew that he had cancer. And, of course, in retrospect, those of us who were around him, during the summer especially, before he died, he died in 1971 in early December, the 4th of December.

[27:18]

And that summer at Tassajara, people talked about how he taught like a man who had no time left, how powerful and intense his teachings were, how he would move rocks with a kind of ferocious quality. And he would talk about this case and keep reminding us about both sides of the coin. If it's hot, be a hot Buddha, and if it's cold, be a cold Buddha. And in the heat of the summer at Tassajara, it was not so easy to be completely and thoroughly hot. We would keep dreaming about the cold of the winter and in the cold of the winter dream about the heat of the summer.

[28:19]

One of the things that came up for me when I was reading this case has to do with this reference to the cook messing up the food with too much fiddling. This is gouging a wound in healthy flesh. It can become a nest or a den. That's the way Cleary translates it. While I was in Minnesota, Katagiri Roshi's wife, Tomoe-san, said, I'm cooking three meals a day. Every day I'm cooking three meals a day. I don't want to cook. I want you to cook. I haven't cooked much for a while, and I thought, oh dear. So I went to the store and I bought all of the beautiful, ripe, organic vegetables

[29:32]

I could put my hands on. And I got really beautiful, big, fat, vine-ripened tomatoes. They looked like they were going to burst. And I got some organic beef because that was what Katagiri Roshi wanted. And I got some beautiful, yellow squash. And I browned the meat and I cut and peeled and seeded the tomatoes and cut the squash, put it all together and cooked it. And I kept thinking, what am I going to do to make this taste delicious? What spices, what seasoning, that will not be too much for this old, dear friend who is sick, but who must eat to keep his strength and energy up

[30:32]

while he goes through radiation and chemotherapy and worry? And in the end, I didn't do anything. I kept wanting to, and somehow I managed to restrain myself. And as these various items cooked together, the smell that came from the pot was more and more delicious. And after a while, I took it off the stove and took it upstairs and put it on the table. And Katagiri Roshi and his son and wife ate it so fast that I was amazed. Clearly, not doing anything, just putting it together and stirring, was just right. But I had some idea that to cook some delicious and nourishing meal,

[31:40]

I should be doing something extra. And I stumbled onto, once again, remembering how something carefully picked and washed and peeled and prepared so that you can enjoy the scent and the flavor of the tomatoes and the ground beef and the squash. Nothing else is enough. By accident, that time, I didn't make it into a den or a nest. I thought, oh, maybe that's what this ancient commentator means. Don't mess with things, just meet things as they are, moment by moment. Yesterday morning, when I went to sit with Katagiri Roshi for a while

[32:53]

before leaving to take a plane to come home, he was lying down and he took my hand. And on the table next to the couch where he was lying down were stacks of tomatoes. They were stacks of letters. And I looked through them and I could see the names and return addresses of many of us here. And he said, I want you to know how much I feel the warm heart of Zen Center. And I want you to tell everyone there that I feel Zen Center's warm heart and how much it is helping me. So I told him that we were sitting session this week

[34:09]

and that we would sit with his good health, his well-being and his life to be as long as it may be in our hearts. And he said, thank you, but be sure to tell them that I feel the warmth of their hearts from California here in Minnesota. So when we said goodbye, I realized that I have no idea whether I will see this person again or not. And I asked myself, is there anything in my heart that I want to say that I haven't expressed somehow or another?

[35:11]

Just sitting together, expressing our affection and enjoyment and appreciation, joining together and following the Buddha's way was enough. So I got off the plane and I got in the car. My husband was kind enough to drive to the airport rather than to have me take the airporter home. He said, I guess this is our visit for the week. And I noticed on the dashboard this verse, which he said he had read in a text in the morning and thought, pretty good, I think this is dashboard material. And it goes, Birth ends with death. Youth ends with old age.

[36:20]

Meeting ends with separation. Wealth ends with loss. All things in cyclic existence are transient, impermanent. Please sit with this moon-faced Buddha, sun-faced Buddha. Let this koan sit in your body, in your heart and mind as we sit together. We can even use this phrase, sun-faced Buddha, moon-faced Buddha, because when our mind wanders off, we can locate our attention with this phrase. Whenever our mind, our attention wanders off,

[37:24]

place it gently and kindly with this phrase, examining and looking into what it brings our attention to. A kind of contemplation without thinking about it, just letting it cook in us, almost like chewing on our cud. So this week, together, let us enjoy our sitting and walking and eating, the kind of liberation that comes from restricting ourselves in the way that we are. And together, look into what this case can reveal to us

[38:26]

in our actual practice, moment by moment. Thank you very much.

[38:34]

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