I still how important form is to me. This early this morning, because I woke up with a start. I was having a dream where I was being hunted by. Is the thing working? Can you hear me then? Yeah, I think it is recording. So as we rush into action. So I had this dream. I had this dream where I was being hunted by this man who was carrying a big bow,

[01:11]

big bow and long arrows with steel, very sharp points. And we're running through the mountains and I was terrified, terrified. And I usually only have a dream like this when I'm going to have to do something publicly, to express myself publicly about something that's important to me. But you don't have to worry about me thinking that it's any of you who's carrying the bow, because when I looked at the man's face, it was mine. So having said that, I've thought a lot about form in my life, having been lucky enough to be surrounded by it in a very positive way. As certainly as a parish priest, I heard a lot about form. Such such questions, insightful questions as why do we have to do that?

[02:17]

I hate incense. I start to choke or or you seem so cold. And certainly and certainly as as you know, you get to hear very interesting, very interesting things. Some people really, really love form. In fact, that's one of the things that attracted them to to our place here, because if you haven't noticed, we are rather formal. Some people are wounded Roman Catholics. Boy, you know, I almost converted to the Roman Church when I was 19. I'm really glad I didn't, based on some of the things I've heard. And I'm really sorry for that, that people are so wounded. There are other people who were trained or did a lot of sitting with the Vipassana, the Vipassana discipline, which is purported to be very informal.

[03:22]

But I don't think so. I mean, it's certainly not it's not like us. But I did a 10 day retreat at Barry in Massachusetts. One of the first things I did in terms of meditation. And I was amazed at how formal they were. Of course, from their point of view, they were very informal. And then there are some people who have been trained in a Tibetan tradition which don't seem to notice. In fact, I think we're kind of like a rather dull hot fud Sunday to Tibetans. As opposed to what? Oh, oh, I'm sorry. As opposed to what as opposed to what Tibetans do. Very. Oh, my impression is very lavish, very colorful. Not everything is white and black. No. Wow. Actually, I always thought of.

[04:25]

Yeah, I always thought of Zen. Oh, I always thought of Tibetans as the hot fudge Sunday with with all the sprinkles and as. Let's see. And Zen as kind of like the hot fudge Sunday without the ice cream and fudge and stuff. I had a. No. I was at Tassar for two years. Had a had a. Let's see. What was it? Oh, yeah. Last week I talked about my whenever I get burned out, I get these. I get a very deep monastic vocation. So so I left Tassar, the monastery and went off to look at other Christian ones. And when that didn't pan out, I went home to Maine to take care of my bishop who was sick at the time and stayed there for three years.

[05:32]

And one of the things that happened was that we formed a sitting group. And it was eventually it moved to this gigantic house right next door to the cathedral, my cathedral in the Episcopal Church. And and I set it up Zendo style, double parlors, Zendo style, made all the Zappos and Zapatos and had a nice Buddha statue and Suzuki Roshi calligraphy that I pasted onto a blank scroll and candle and, of course, incense stuff. And I was quite pleased with it myself. And and the folks that came by pretty much they didn't mind. I mean, they're kind of they knew me anyway. They're sort of used to my stuff. And the the the priest next door, the dean of the cathedral, he came he came over. He actually was very, very supportive, very supportive of my shenanigans. And but he did pull me aside one day and said he had that look.

[06:35]

He has a look on his face. You know, it's very helpful and very sincere. Don't you think that your threshold is rather high? That's what. So what that made me think this was, you know, what is this business about threshold? In other words, it was too hard for people to get in the door because they had to do all this stuff first. You know, they had to take off their shoes, which is very disarming. I think in our culture, taking off your shoes in somebody's house, I mean, it's comfortable in your own. I think it makes you vulnerable in someone else's or especially a public place. Plus, plus bowing and things like that. We did we did the whole works. I mean, it was pared down, obviously. And so that got me thinking, you know, what what is the value of all this threshold business? And I know that when I first came here, I was scared to death to walk through the door. In fact, I asked some people if they had the same experience and they pretty much did, too.

[07:39]

That it's kind of a scary thing to come into a foreign culture or something different. So at any rate. So what is form? I used to think it was a form of etiquette. In fact, the instructions that I had on how to do stuff, how to get in and out of the Zendo was called Zendo etiquette. Sendo etiquette in every group has its own etiquette. I mean, you must know that even if it says it doesn't. There are certain behaviors that are supported, reinforced and other behaviors that are considered inappropriate. They may be stated or not stated, but every group always has a way of dealing with each other of deportment. So whether it's overt or hidden, it's going to be there. So I was thinking about what are some of the ways that different groups relate to each other.

[08:43]

There are some people who are very comfortable in a military outfit where everything is ordered. There's a way you stand. There's a way you talk. There's a way you defer to people above you. Some folks find that very, very comforting. There's also a way of, I call it studied sloppiness. You can see it in a manner of dress where everybody dresses that way. So it's not like, oh, I just got up and threw on what I had. It's kind of really studied, and certainly ways of speaking that are rather inexact. There are cultures where you have to be really tough. Like riding on the bus is, for me, a very difficult thing to do because some of the folks are really mean-spirited and really tough. As if if you don't carve out with force your space, it will be taken from you, it seems almost.

[09:51]

So every group has its way of doing things. Oh, let's see. People in Maine that I'm used to, when you meet people in Maine, they will say, this is so-and-so, oh, hi, how are you? That's about it. That's about it. In other words, it's very, at first, it's very, it seems very cool and distant for the most part. But then over time, people open up and get warm, get warmer. So it's a gradual warming to friendship. Imagine my surprise coming to California, where not only did they shake your hand, but they probably tried to hug you, too. And we're very effusive in warmth and friendliness.

[10:53]

Oh, good God, either I'm in hell or I've gone to heaven. And I also and I noticed that that that seems at least my opinion is that that seems to be the way it is at first. And then gradually people kind of cool off. In terms of form, in terms of manners, I ran across something very short, in fact, tiny from this really neat book. Well, I found that Koinokuniya, is that right? Did I say that right? Kinokuniya. Kinokuniya. I always say it wrong. It's called Learning to Bow Inside the Heart of Japan by Bruce Feiler, an American who went to teach English there in Japan for a year. And he writes about what he found out. It's really funny and very revealing. But one of the things he found was what happened to him physically when he started when he talked Japanese.

[11:57]

And this is what he said. When I spoke Japanese with Mr. Cherry Blossom, is his name in English, or my 85 year old landlady or the principal of my school, I could feel myself physically change. I would scrunch my shoulders, stiffen my arms and even suck in my stomach. At times, my posture would dictate my speech. It's nearly impossible, for example, to have a good knock down, drag out fight in standard Japanese. One's body, one's words will not allow it. So, how we deal with ourselves, I think, helps form and shape our character. And I was thinking, let's see, when I hear people have trouble with form, usually it says, usually they say something like, let's see, can't we deal, can't we, wouldn't we do much better without all this formality?

[12:59]

Like, why don't we just sit? Why don't we just sit? That'll take care of all the stuff. But I find that the idea is that we could really get down to business if we didn't have all this stuff, all these things to remember, all these hard things to do. For example, even when guest students come, as you know, when I was you know, I'm not now, showing guest students how to get in and out of the Buddha hall. I mean, it took me, what, six months to figure it out myself. And no amount of telling me would help. So, when I tell them, when I show them, I say, this is the hardest part of Zen Center. Zazen is a snap compared to getting in and out of the Buddha hall. So, wouldn't we be much easier off without all this stuff? Plus, plus all the bowing and stuff, plus the way some of us dress, you know.

[14:04]

Isn't this rather irrelevant to our culture, to our time? To which I say, yes, isn't it wonderful? But here's my point. Then they say, besides, it's so foreign, so foreign. Oh, which is a very revealing statement, I think. I was really heartened when Bobby Rhodes spoke here Wednesday night. She, for those of you who weren't here, she's of the Korean lineage from the Providence Zen Center. And her teacher, Sun Sanim, somebody was complaining about, they couldn't do all these foreign forms. And he said, well, gee, you know, not everything is American. What a nice insight. I mean, that wouldn't have occurred to me. I mean, you can go anywhere to a McDonald's. You know, everything is American, sometimes. So, I found that very helpful.

[15:08]

Yes. Oh, then the other thing is, why can't we just use Western forms? Does that make sense? I shudder to think what those might be. Can you see passing somebody in the hall? High five. I can't see myself doing that, ever. But what it lacks in dignity, I think it does make up in enthusiasm. I remember going to Green Gulch, arriving there in the dead of night, and popping into the Zen Do in the morning, sitting there watching my breath. I'd never done that before in my life. Sat in a room inside, watching, I mean, seeing it. Not being aware of it, but seeing it. It was freezing. Then, after Zazen, which was okay, because I was, you know, rather distracted by all this.

[16:14]

We got up for service, and bowed. Oh, no. The doshi, I didn't know what a doshi was, but this person out here in the middle went up and offered something that was on fire. Then, everybody got back, and amidst all sorts of bells and things, everybody fell on the floor. I was left standing there. What the hell is this? I don't do this, where I come from. But then, it hit me, oh, wait a minute, I don't stick out like a sore thumb, either, where I come from. So, I fell on the floor, too, with everybody else. You know, I thought about what is the value, if any, of having forms that don't make any sense, or that are foreign, they're different. And I think it's the same kind of question that arises with different people. What happens to us when we are in the face of something different?

[17:19]

You know, what happens to us? I think the biggest thing that happens is we get disoriented. If we walk into a... You know, I've been to England, which for me was bad enough. That was hard enough. The people were different. They acted differently. They talked differently. I didn't really know who I was with them. Did I belong, or didn't I? But we're the same color. We spoke the same language. But I was disoriented. I didn't know where I was. Didn't know who I was. Think of, you know, when I got to Zen Center, San Francisco, I thought. I had been here for a few days before, before I came to the Zen Center. And I saw all these people of different nationalities. And I thought, whoa, this is great. In Maine... Well, let's see. When I grew up, when I was growing up until very recently, everybody looked like me. Everybody. The only people of color that I ever saw were on TV. So I never had that experience.

[18:23]

So coming to San Francisco, this is terrific. But when I got to Zen Center, one of the first things I thought was, whoa, where is everyone? Where is everybody? They all look like me, too. So I didn't have the chance to be disoriented that way. I wonder, though, if that's a bad thing. I'm being disoriented, that is. It strikes me... The other thing that happens... Sorry if I stumble. It's because I'm confused. Disoriented. The other thing that happens, at least to me, is I get self-conscious. Very self-conscious. I mean, like, self-conscious, wanting to disappear. Disappear. Whenever I'm disoriented or when I'm up against something that I don't understand or that's different from me. And so I wonder, out there, that's bad.

[19:27]

That's bad. We're out of control. We're disoriented, self-conscious. That's bad. In here, it's my impression, that's good. That you're right on the right track. And the things that led me to believe that was hearing Dogen's thing when he said, to study the way is to study the self, et cetera, et cetera. What self? What self are we talking about? I think it's the totally conditioned self. And where do you find that? When you don't know what's going on. When you feel out of control. You don't know the language. You don't know what to do with your body. But everybody else is doing something, and you feel like you have to join. So, I come up. I come up. I hate this. I love this. I don't like this. I don't know what's going on. The end of the sentence doesn't matter. What matters is the I, I think. The I that pops up. That's the self that has to be studied. Trungpa said something telling.

[20:31]

When he said, self-awareness is one insult after another. Self-awareness is one insult after another. That conditioned I is quite embarrassing, I think. Somebody asked, I hear that somebody asked Suzuki Roshi at Tassajara, how come we all had to wear robes? And how come, you know, we all had to wear robes doing zazen? And apparently he said, you know, when you're all doing the same thing, facing the wall, all looking alike, your uniqueness shines through. Your own uniqueness, I would say your own beauty, really shines through. I see that in the zendo, facing out. It's wonderful. Was it Dogen who said practice is one continuous mistake? Yeah. So, out there, mistakes that make you so self-conscious,

[21:36]

out there, bad. That's bad. Making mistakes is bad. You can get scolded. You can get fired. In here, if you don't know that, stick around. Because if you've made a mistake, that's good. That's good. Yeah. Should I have said that? So, I think that form, as annoying it is to some people, really brings out our conditioned self, the self that makes us a slave, you know, a slave. And we long for freedom. But I don't think there's any getting free unless you face that self. And form, I think better than most other things I've seen, really pulls it out, really pulls it up. And it brings up our stuff with it, you know. It brings up, if we're dependent, it brings that out, you know.

[22:40]

Ooh, I want to do it right. I want to do it right. Or if we're counter-dependent, I hate this, always did and always will. Also, some of us somewhere got the message that whatever we did, it had to be correct. How sad. How impossible that is. But that's still the conditioned self that arises. I remember being introduced to people as a kid. And they would stick out their hand to shake it. But I felt so ashamed of myself, generally speaking, that I felt just horrible doing something formal like that. You know, because I was so ashamed that that was me. I didn't have the practice then, alas. But it certainly brought out me. It brings up our inferiority complexes. It brings up our superiority complexes. And if you don't think so, just try bowing to people as they walk in the hall.

[23:41]

I know at Tassajara, at Tassajara it's easier because you have to do this stuff all the time, all the time. So there was one woman whom I sat next to, whom I really hated. Oh, I hated her. I hated it. In fact, I even built, I built a psychological wall between us. And it was very strong. How stupid is this, right? And I would pass her, meeting her on the walkway. And I would, of course, being Mr. Perfect, would do a marvelous bow. And she would kind of go, and go off. And I was so insulted. Every time it happened, I was totally insulted. It was personal, and because she's like that, you know. And I thought I was dealing with her, you know. Another mistake. I was only dealing with me, by not dealing with me. I have not had very, it's not much fun dealing with my conditioned self.

[24:50]

It's embarrassing. And it's also covered in blindness. In practice discussion, sometimes, maybe when they dare, I can't tell, but they'll mention something. Do you know when you do this, you're actually doing this? And I'm thinking, oh, yes. It's awful, and I don't want to admit it. I don't want to admit any of it. But you get used to apologizing and owning things. So our practice helps, I think. It helps the embarrassment of being yourself, your conditioned self. Have you also noticed how your sense of humor evaporates around the conditioned self? When you do something and they think it's funny, it isn't. Or trying to talk with somebody, oh, gosh, oh, mercy.

[25:53]

Being, you know, and getting the myriad excuses for everything. Tons of excuses. None of which I really particularly care about, frankly, because I see a person who is just wonderful most of the time. So all the excuses are really quite extra. But, well, I hope you can get my point. I just forgot it. Oh, oh, so if you point out to them that, oh, well, you know, that it's really not that big a deal, they don't like that too much, you know, because the conditioned self likes to be real. It likes to be important, you know. If, oh, yeah, I didn't say this before, but I was talking with Tia the other day, a couple of weeks ago, actually, and we were talking about this conditioned self,

[26:54]

and you know how the way you see it, the way you're conditioned to see reality is the way you really think it is. You really think it is. It's unquestioned. And so we were questioning the way I was seeing reality, and it occurred to me, my God, and I asked her, how do you tell the difference between what's real and what you make up? Fair question. And she said, what difference does it make? Think about that. I found it very liberating myself. So, but that's not all it is, I think. Form does bring up our self, our conditioned self, but that's not all. And I think this is the juicy part, because I think that forms are transforming. I think they transform us.

[27:54]

And that, for me, is the marvel. And the greatest thing is, you don't even know it. You don't even know it. Have you known people here at City Center, had them go away to Tassajara for a few months, come back, and you say, whoa, what happened to them? Have you noticed? They're soft. They're softer. They're open. There's an innocence. I mean, they're the same person, but there's an innocence about them. They glow. They really glow, and it's really sweet to see them. Why is that? If you say it to them, they don't know what you're saying. It doesn't make any sense to them, because they're just themselves. And why is that? I think it's because of the formal life, the stuff you do in and out, in and out, and the struggle, the struggle with yourself that arises. Not the forms. I mean, the forms only, they don't care.

[28:55]

It's sort of like anybody ever played tetherball? You know, like the forms are kind of like the post, and we are kind of like playing with a ball, and it doesn't really matter what we do with the ball. I mean, we may like it. We may punch it. We may get mad at it and chase it around. But the form just stays the same. It doesn't care. It acts as kind of an anchor, kind of a check-in place. I ran across something which struck me in, oh, what is it? That book we read every time at staff meeting, Dogen's Pure Standards. Yeah. Is that the Ehe Shingi? Ehe Shingi, which means the rules and regulations and the forms at Eheji, that nasty monastery called Eternal Peace. Isn't that wonderful? He said, well, actually, he didn't say this. One of his disciples said he said this.

[29:57]

So you're getting it third-hand. Purportedly, he said, deportment is the Buddha Dharma. Manners are the heart of the teaching. Is that powerful or what? Deportment. I mean, that's a lovely word, elegant word, deportment, how we carry ourself. Is the Buddha Dharma, is the Buddha Dharma, is reality, is the teaching of reality, is what's happening, that manners are the heart of the teaching, how we deal with each other, manners. Or what's the other word they used? I don't know, but that's enough. So something else is going on here. I mean, it's not just doing something that's uncomfortable or marvelous. There's something deeper that happens through these forms. I was thinking how we have this form. This is an Eastern form, very old form, gassho.

[30:59]

And I would say it's probably a positive form. I mean, and you all know the reasoning, the stuff we make up about what all these things mean. I think maybe it probably was, oh, it's like a handshake. It's not really a greeting of warmth. It's really showing that you don't have a knife in your hand. Like the Roman legions, the salute was to raise your right arm, which was to show you were unarmed. You didn't mean harm. So maybe gassho was maybe like that, too. But then all these things get sort of mystical explanations, too. So one side, other side coming close together. Maybe so. It doesn't matter. But what strikes me is that in the West we also have another sign. Excuse me. But this one, right? What would it be like to practice this as a greeting instead?

[32:01]

Do you know? I don't mean to be facetious about that. I think it makes a difference which forms we actually use as people. I think ones that are aggressive and mean-spirited, I think create an aggressive and mean-spirited character. I think the ones that have been around for thousands and thousands of years, which were gestures of kindness and open-heartedness, I think they form a kind and open-hearted character. So it could be worse. The other thing is I don't think it really matters a whole lot what we think about form. I think if you have the courage to just jump in, that the form will take care of you, you know? That it will change you. It will open your heart, soften your mind, you know, open your mind, no matter what we think. I wanted to end by telling you an experience that I had in this endo during the one-day sitting.

[33:09]

The last one we had. You know, as eno, you're always on the lookout for trouble, which is our way of saying I want to be helpful, right? So as eno, I'm always watching to see who needs help more than others by my writing a terse note to the soku or by, let's see, what else do I do? What did I do about it years ago? Oh, God, I don't know. You know, tightening up myself, which is not very helpful, I suspect, to other people or things like that. So you're always scanning, always scanning this endo. Eating is quite secondary, at least for me, as eno. Mostly I don't even know what it is unless it's stewed fruit, which I hate. No offense, Tenzo. So at this point, so I'm not eno anymore, you know.

[34:16]

And so I was sitting there, and I thought, next to Blanche, who was very, very steady, very focused, and I decided, okay, I'm going to eat. I'm going to do orioke. And I remembered something that I was told a long time ago here, Tassara. This little thing we have, this form called do your own practice. Do your own practice. Don't worry about them. Can you imagine that? But do your own practice. So I decided I'm going to do my own practice. And so I mimicked Blanche. When she did something, I did it too, very focused. And when I didn't have something to do, I didn't look around. I looked at a place on the floor and kept very steady, very steady. And I've been doing orioke enough by now that I almost, well, I have it a little bit more. So that wasn't a real problem, trying to, you know, prevent things from falling off onto the floor.

[35:20]

So I just was very steady and just ate, and just ate, and just ate, just did orioke. That's all. And, you know, when my critical mind would come in, no, mm-mm, mm-mm, just eat, just eat, just breathe, just be here. And the question arose in my mind, when is just eating much more than just eating? And the answer that came was, when you're really just eating. Because what happened to me was marvelous. It's like towards the end of the meal, I mean, it's hard to describe, big, spacious, gratitude, love. Just because I was eating, just because I was eating, just doing that one thing. So I recommend it to you. I really do. Instead of trying to worry about if you're doing it right and stuff, just do it, just do it.

[36:21]

It's difficult, but I think worth it, based on my small experience of actually just doing one thing at a time. So, if you do have trouble with form, either from the past or from the present, I hope you'll give it another chance. Use it. Let it work in you. Use them. Let them work in you. Let your heart open. Above all, be kind to you. Be kind to the mind, who has trouble. Just be very gentle and very kind. And that's all I have to say. Thank you very much. May our intention equally penetrate every being and place.

[37:23]

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