This podcast is offered by the San Francisco Zen Center on the web at www.sfcc.org. Our public programs are made possible by donations from people like you. Good morning. Shine one corner of the world. Suzuki Roshi offered this invitation to his students, And though I came to Zen Center after Suzuki Roshi had died, when I heard this phrase, it pierced my heart. I can't be sure exactly what he meant, but what these words mean to me is that it's advice to not try to take on all the suffering of the world, because if we do, we'll be overwhelmed and discouraged, but rather to find one or two places in the world that we can endeavor to shine. There's so much to be dismayed about these days.

[01:06]

The terrible war that rages in Ukraine, the painful divisions in our country that seem almost insoluble, and the threat to our precious democracy, environmental degradation. What can we do? We can do something. We can shine one corner of the world. we can choose our place and try to take care of it. For me, it was the third grade classroom where I taught for 35 years. That was the corner of the world that I tried to shine. Whether we go deeply into the monastery or take our efforts back out into the marketplace, we have an opportunity to share our practice with all beings, whether we say a word about it or not. We don't need to talk about it. We can just live it. Though I didn't get a chance to meet Suzuki Roshi, I see his practice shining through his students.

[02:12]

The Buddha gently encouraged us to joyfully participate in the sorrows of the world. I wish I could say I read that in a sutra, but actually it's something one of Tony Soprano's girlfriends said to him when they were walking through the Bronx Zoo. Still, I think it holds water. We find there's enough joy and enough suffering in every corner of the world where we choose to practice. Any corner of the world that we try to shine. I was a student at Tassar in 1977, back in the Pleistocene age, when the director, Mark Alexander, asked me if I would like to teach kids. And... I did have an affinity for children. People knew that. Zen Center had invited families to come down to Tassara for a year to practice with their kids. So we set up a one-room schoolhouse and a preschool, and I taught kids there for a year. And I just had a blast teaching those kids.

[03:16]

We made a relief map of the Tassara Valley and the mountains. One day it snowed, and of course we ran outside and played in the snow. We did hands-on math and read and wrote. My daughter, Nova, and her dad, Michael, and I came back to the city, and I did lots of jobs after that. There used to be a grocery store on the corner. I did the books there. I worked in the front office, Tossara Bread Bakery, Green's Restaurant, and finally Smith & Hawken Tool Company. But I was looking for a school for my daughter when she was five years old. And I was standing in the hallway of New Tradition School, and the happy voices of the children were filtering out through the open doors of the classrooms, and I could see the beautiful artwork up on the walls. And I just stopped in my tracks, and I literally felt a calling to teach kids.

[04:18]

And I thought, I could teach kids the rest of my life and never master it, never get to the bottom of it. And that's what I did. I dropped out of my job. I went back to school at San Francisco State. I went into recovery, but that's another story. And I taught at the San Francisco school where Ginny Baker and Yvonne Rand, long-term Zen folks, were founding teachers in that school. I'm sorry, founding parents. I got to teach Roger's grandkids. at the San Francisco School, and Linda Cutts' daughters, Sarah Weintraub, and about 700 other children. I know in my bones that I was a very different teacher than I would have been had I not been practicing Zen for so long, and had I not continued to practice it. Practice gave me the patience to be fully patient, fully patient and fully present with each child. It taught me something I never knew before, which is, hey!

[05:20]

How about pausing before speaking? It taught me to settle my small self on a broader, more compassionate, universal self that I could offer to children from that place. And we had a mindfulness bell in my classroom. We'd have moments of silence, a lot of laughter, and a recognition in my class of kindness is offered, highlighting those for the kids. All of these things that I was able to bring to teaching were the fruits of practice. Practice that I couldn't grasp, but that flowed through me from our ancestors and from my teacher, Ajun Linda Kutz. I recently retired from teaching and two years ago, actually, but because of COVID, my school couldn't throw me a retirement party till last weekend and And I got to see adults who'd been children in the first class I ever taught.

[06:25]

And they're standing over me, kissing the top of my head. I got to hear about their lives and share memories with them. And I got really good advice from a friend who said, Laura, when people want to say nice things to you, don't interrupt them. Just let the love flow. And that was really helpful advice. literally half my life teaching kids. Of course, I've learned so much from my third grade students. My kids would tumble up to the door, luminous beings full of energy and life. And they often brought surprising insights along with them. And I'd like to share with you some of the things that I love about third grade and what I learned from them. For one thing, third graders take risks. I remember we were leaving the school to take a field trip to the Portola library, and Colin reached down to the foot of a tree and picked some sourgrass and started chewing on it.

[07:30]

And I said, Colin, I know you like sourgrass, but the thing is, dogs like to pee at the base of trees. And he looked up at me and said, Laura, that's just the chance you have to take risks. Third graders are great conversationalists. I had a new boy in my class, Charlie, a few years ago. And during math class, I heard one of the girls say to Charlie, Charlie, where were you born? And he leaned back in his chair and said, I was born in Paris, France, the most romantic city in the world. Eight years old, right? Third graders ask probing questions. I was out at Point Race to see the wonderful movie about our dear friend, Grace Dannem. And this young woman came up to me and she said, Laura, you probably don't recognize me, but I was in your third grade class. I said, Anna, not only do I remember you, I remember when you raised your hand and said, Laura, Laura, what happens after you die?

[08:32]

I forget. Third graders have profound philosophical discussions. I'm not sure why two of my girls were talking about death as they walked behind me in the hallway, but I heard Talia say to Tess, would you rather be buried or cremated? And Tess thought for a moment and she said, I don't know, surprise me. Yeah. Third graders love to learn new words. Roger has a grandson named Koji who's all grown up now. I saw him at the DeYoung Museum. We just walked right by each other and then did a double take. He was carrying a book of poetry in his hand, you know, this tall. But I heard him use the word et cetera at his work table. And his seatmate said, et cetera, what does that mean? And Koji said, et cetera, well, it's kind of like Latin for blah, blah, blah. Isn't that perfect? It really is. He's also famous for saying bird watching is 10% bird watching and 90% meditation.

[09:38]

I think his grandfather has had an impression on him. Emmanuel, when he was with his grandfather, uttered the phrase, that sucks. And his grandfather said, that's not a nice way to talk. And Emmanuel corrected himself using a word he'd learned in third grade. And he said, I mean... That's egregious. So, you know, they love learning new words. When you're a teacher, you need to come to school no matter what's going on in your personal life. And about 25 years ago, my dad, Terry Burgess, died of lung cancer. And I took some week off of school. But when I came back, my teaching assistant handed me this pile of sympathy cards. And she said, these are in really poor taste, but I think you'll get a kick out of them. And one of the cards was from my student, Ariel. And on the front, it said, just when you think everything's going great and you open it up and it said, deaf, arg.

[10:38]

They're great. I like to greet my kids at the door and shake their hands in the morning. And this gave me a chance to check in with them and exchange a few words. How's your baby brother? Nice T-shirt. And one day I shook one of my little girl's hands and I said, how are you today? And she looked up at me and said, my life is a barren wasteland. Even third graders can have a bad day. I see nods of recognition. I learned not to underestimate my students. They often open new windows for me. One day I uttered that cliche, great minds think alike. And my student, Paul, thought about it and said, no, they don't. That's what makes them great. And I never thought quite that same way about that phrase again. But one of my favorite moments in third grade, and Blanche loved this story, and she shared this story in some of her Dharma talks. I was sitting at my desk one day, and Nathan walked by during silent, sustained reading, and he did this little dance.

[11:44]

And I called him over. I said, Nathan, what were you thinking about right then? And he said, Laura, do you ever forget you're alive and all of a sudden you remember? I was there for his Kensho experience. I always thought that if I walked out of school and realized I'd forgotten where I parked my car, that it would be time to retire. Actually, it happened quite a while ago. But it was about three years ago when I began to feel that I'd finished what I'd started at the school. And I taught my last classes online in the spring of 2020 at the beginning of the COVID crisis. I think it's unusual in our fast-paced culture where people move from place to place and go from job to job to have had the... rare opportunity that I had to just stay in one place for many years and watch the flow of kids coming through and growing up and parents and other teachers, the challenges, the responsibilities, the conflicts offered by long-term membership in a group.

[12:53]

And we have this opportunity here at Zen Center. I can't believe I've been at Zen Center for 47 years. Many of us have been at Zen Center for a long time. I know I feel that I grew up here and met myself most deeply here in this room and in the Zendo and at Green Gulch and most especially at Tassajara. Paul, do you remember one summer you were walking along a path and you ran into my daughter Nova and you said to her, Yeah, you said to her, Nova, how's it going? And Nova said, so little time, so much to complain about. We say this chance rarely occurs in any lifetime. And to be aware of this and to practice with it is truly a gift. This chance to practice and take refuge in Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha...

[13:54]

Since I retired, I've been writing Buddhist children's books for Shambhala publications. And I really have David Zimmerman to thank for this because Shambhala reached out to him and asked if he knows someone who might like to do that. And he thought of me as a teacher of children and a writer and a long-term practitioner. So thank you so much, David. It's been just a wonderful segue from teaching kids to writing books for them. My first book is called Buddhist Stories for Kids, Jataka Tales of Kindness, Friendship, and Forgiveness. And it's not coming out until December. The beautiful illustrations are by an artist from Bangladesh, Sonali Zora. And since I have a captive audience here, with your indulgence, I'd like to read you one of these stories. I'm sure as many of you know, the Buddha told stories about his many previous lifetimes before he was incarnated as Shakyamuni Buddha.

[15:00]

And he told these stories to lead his followers to right conduct. I'm kind of agnostic about reincarnation. I guess I would say like Tess surprised me. But I have found in certain beings that I felt I knew them in previous lifetimes. So there are about 500 of these stories. I dusted about 10 of them off because they were a little creaky and not really written for children. And of course, all the characters were male. So I had fun playing with genders and species and plots to bring them to life for today's readers while trying to stay true to the integrity of the lessons that these stories teach. And this story, The Secret of the Palash Tree, has been especially... Meaningful for me as I step away from teaching children into a new phase of my life. Let's all take a deep breath together.

[16:04]

The Secret of the Palash Tree. Long ago and far away in a different place in time... There lived in a silver palace on the edge of a vast forest, a mighty Raja and his wife. They had four children, two girls and two boys, but the royal couple thought themselves so very important that they spent little time with their children. The royal gardener, a wise old woman, loved them dearly, and the children spent many happy hours climbing the trees on the grounds of the palace, playing hide-and-seek in the fragrant bushes and sitting in the grass near the gardener while she worked. As she tended the garden, she spun wonderful tales for them, tales of mystery and delight. One day in early spring, when the trees were beginning to burst forth with new life, the gardener told the children of a wondrous palash tree that lived deep in the forest.

[17:17]

What is so special about it? asked the oldest daughter. Well, my child, it is a magical tree. It can only be seen by the pure of heart. At this, the children began chattering among themselves, each of them once curious if they would be able to see the tree. The youngest boy said, Can we go and see it right now? Listen carefully, my children, replied the wise gardener. I will take one of you to see it every three months. At the end of the year, you will know the secret of the palash tree. The oldest girl said, Since I'm the oldest, will you take me first? Yes, my dear, I will take you to see it tomorrow. But on one condition, you must promise not to speak of what you see until each of you has had the chance to see this wondrous tree. The children agreed to keep the secret of the mysterious tree and looked forward with great excitement to their journey into the dark green forest.

[18:25]

In the morning, the sun rose on a beautiful spring day. Leaving the other three children to play their games, the gardener led the oldest daughter into the woods. They walked for a long time, chatting of this and that, but silence fell over them when they stepped into a clearing. "'I can see it,' cried the girl." There stood the magnificent tree, perfectly formed, with branches reaching high into the blue sky. On each branch, bundled green buds winked and twinkled full of life. The girl stood there amazed. When they padded through the forest back to the palace, the girl kept her vow not to speak of the tree, though her sisters and brothers begged her to. Slowly spring turned into summer. and soon it was the oldest boy's turn. Early in the morning, the wise gardener stepped off with him into the forest, just as she had promised. As they came near the tree, the boy cried, I can see it.

[19:28]

But he saw a very different tree than his sister had. The still ancient tree had blossoms that looked like leaves of flame, red and gold and yellow, darting up towards the sky. The boy couldn't believe his eyes. It was as if they were looking at a crackling fire. He too kept silent about what he had seen. When summer turned to autumn, it was the younger daughter's turn. When she and the gardener visited the tree, it was heavy with clutches of long, slender, purple fruit that hung from the branches. The lovely sight took the girl's breath away, and she was speechless. Finally, it was winter, the youngest boy's turn. The wise gardener asked him if he was ready to venture into the forest to see the palash tree. To be honest, he was a little frightened, for he'd never ventured into the dark woods before. But the old woman took him by the hand, and her warm hand and strength of her grasp cheered him.

[20:31]

When they came to the magical tree, its bare branches twisted this way and that. I can see it, but it isn't much to look at, said the boy. sighing with disappointment. But because he was a clever child with a vivid imagination, he soon saw that the bare branches presented many possibilities. He imagined crafting colorful birds out of bright silk to hang on the tree. And soon, in his mind's eye, decorations of every kind brought the seemingly dead tree to life. For this beautiful vision, he looked up at his friend, the wise old woman, and simply said, Thank you for giving me this gift. I will always treasure it. When the young boy and the gardener returned to the palace, the children were eager to break their silence about what they had seen. Each wondered if the others were pure of heart. They sat in the grass in the shade of the spreading bubble tree, decked out in yellow blossoms.

[21:35]

The oldest girl said excitedly that she had indeed seen the magical tree. She described the tree as she had seen it, bursting with sparkling green buds. The oldest boy said impatiently, no, you must have seen another tree. It was red and gold and yellow as if bursting into flame. The younger sister was indignant. You are both wrong. Didn't you see the luscious purple fruit? And the youngest boy laughed and said, are you trying to trick me because I'm the youngest? The branches were twisted and bare. And in my mind's eye, I decorated them with imaginary ornaments. They all looked questioningly at the wise old gardener who would one day be reborn as the Buddha. A smile played across her wrinkled face, which itself looked like the bark of an ancient tree. Her bright eyes danced like black jewels. Suddenly, the children burst into laughter. They realized the truth.

[22:38]

My dear ones, Each of you is pure of heart, and you each saw the same tree, but in a different season. In the spring, when it was bursting with new life. In the summer, showing off its bright blossoms. In the fall, mellow with heavy fruit. And in winter, slowing into blissful sleep. This is the story of our human life as well. Each life has its seasons. One who is pure of heart lives each season fully, moment by moment, and when it is time, gently lets go. So please, remember the secret of the palash tree. In this world, everything changes. So this story has special meaning for me now, after I wrote it, because... It's been quite a change for me from the rigors of teaching children into the life I'm living now, but this story reminds me that to everything, there is a season, and that as I let go of this long career being with children every day, there are new branches in my life to decorate and new corners of the world to shine.

[24:02]

I'm thinking that each of you has probably found a corner of the world to shine and a branch to decorate. And I think this is so important to remember during these times when we feel so, so overwhelmed by the great suffering in the world. And I'm very heartened by the words of Howard Zinn. I'd like to close with this. Of course, Howard Zinn wrote a history, People's History of the United States. And... I read this after the 2016 election, and Howard Zinn said, To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness. What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives.

[25:04]

If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places, and there are so many, where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the courage to act and at least the possibility of sending the spinning top of a world in a different direction. And if we do act in however small a way, We don't have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presence. And to live now as we think human beings should live is in defiance of all that is bad around us. In itself is a marvelous victory. And certainly this is the jewel of our practice to come within, to practice with others, and to take the fruits of this practice back out into this troubled world to shine one corner of the world.

[26:13]

So thank you so much for your kind attention. It's such a pleasure to be in person with you in the Buddha Hall. Thank you so much. Thank you for listening to this podcast offered by the San Francisco Zen Center. Our Dharma talks are offered at no cost and this is made possible by the donations we receive. Your financial support helps us to continue to offer the Dharma. For more information, visit sfcc.org and click giving. May we fully enjoy the Dharma.

[26:48]

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