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. Thank you for coming this morning to Green Gulch. It matters a lot to us. So I want to begin this morning by sharing with you how sad I am feeling these days. It's probably a feeling that is shared by many of you as well. And although sadness has been a part of me throughout my life, it's also the part of me that came here to practice Zen. For me, the Buddha's compassionate teachings and practice have been an antidote. not only to my sadness, but to my rage, my lust, my impatience, my jealousy, and the dreaded boredom.

[01:11]

So these practices, which have been transmitted over centuries by the Buddhas and the ancestors, are wide-ranging and tailor-made for the human condition. In fact, Buddhas are said to have appeared in response to human suffering, in response to the cries of the world. So I want to share a short example of such a compassionate teaching with you this morning called the Loving Kindness Meditation. We chant this once a week here at Green Gulch, and itself is an adaptation of a longer teaching called the Metasutta. Metta meaning in Sanskrit something like friendship. Just like that Carole King compassionate anthem. You've got a friend. Loving kindness meditation. This is what should be accomplished by the one who is wise.

[02:16]

Who seeks the good and has obtained peace. Let one be strenuous, upright and sincere. Without pride. easily contented and joyous. Let one not be submerged by the things of the world. Let one not take upon oneself the burden of riches. Let one's senses be controlled. Let one be wise, but not puffed up. And let one not desire great possessions, even for one's family. Let one do nothing that is mean or that the wise would reprove. May all beings be happy. May they be joyous and live in safety. All living beings, whether weak or strong, in high or middle or low realms of existence, small or great, visible or invisible, near or far, born or to be born. May all beings be happy.

[03:18]

Let no one deceive another nor despise any being in any state. Let none by anger or hatred wish harm to another, even as a mother at the risk of her life watches over and protects her only child. So with a boundless mind should one cherish all living things, suffusing love over the entire world, above, below, and all around, without limit. So let one cultivate an infinite goodwill toward the whole world, standing or walking, sitting or lying down during all one's waking hours. Let one practice the way with gratitude, not holding to fixed views, endowed with insight, freed from sense appetites. One who achieves the way will be freed from the duality of birth and death.

[04:22]

So I would propose that this teaching is at the heart of what matters most to us as human beings, a friendship. And for the Buddha, being a friend to all beings is awakening itself. Is the mother risking her own life to watch over and protect her only child? I don't imagine that any of you is unaware. of the predators of hatred and violence that are stalking about in every corner of the world, as we're sitting here peacefully together at Green Gulch Farm. The sadness I mentioned earlier comes from my own awareness of that, not only what's happening today, but throughout my entire time here on Earth. Unlike many of you, who seem to be increasingly younger than me, I was born in 1948, a few short years after the Second World War.

[05:31]

A war that, as far as I can tell, has yet to end. When I think back on how I found my way here to this room and to this conversation about loving kindness, it is exactly because of war. And because of stealing and lying. and sexual abuse, hoarding and hating, that a pathway appeared for me to follow. An ancient pathway of friendship and kindness that in themselves are the antidotes to hatred and to the despair that breeds in such toxic soil. You know, sometimes I find myself wishing that I could simply jettison those tendencies that I find within myself. the hatred, the lust, the boredom, and leave behind a purified garment of selfless regard for others.

[06:33]

A garment much like this one that I'm wearing right now, representing a simplified version of myself, unburdened by contrasts and contradictions with the good over here and the bad over there. And like all of us, I do have such moments of goodness only, happiness only, of utter contentment only. In fact, I have such moments almost every day, especially when I allow myself to sit upright and to breathe gently through my nose. Or when I walk upright back to my home here at Green Gulch, passing by the houses and gazing fondly on the trees, goodness only, happiness only. And yet, as our founder, dear Master Dogenzenji, reminds us in his essay about reality called the Genjo Koan, and yet, in attachment, blossoms fall, and in aversion, weeds spread.

[07:52]

wishing for things, for emotions, for people, or for ourselves not to change, is the very source of our dis-ease, of what the Buddha called our suffering. And so we are called on to look closely at this teaching if we wish to uncover our deepest wounds, both as individuals and as a species, to give those wounds air and light. so they may begin to heal. I found another very lovely teaching offering medicine for our woundings called Kindness, written by Naomi Shihabnai, an Arab-American poet who has come to Zen Center for many years as our guest, invited by our Irish-American senior Dharma teacher, Paul Haller, to share her wisdom and her kindness with us. So here's a portion of her poem.

[08:54]

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow. You must speak it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows and you see the size of the cloth. Then it is only kindness. that makes sense anymore. Only kindness that ties your shoes and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread. Only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say, it is I you have been looking for, and then goes with you everywhere like a shadow or a friend. So herein lies the irony for us as practitioners of the Buddha way. In order to get to kindness, to friendship, to goodness, we have to travel the pathway of truth.

[10:02]

The truth about suffering and the causes of suffering. Truth which the Buddha called noble and which became the stepping stones along a pathway of liberation. a pathway that by its very nature is continuously dropping out from underneath our feet as we walk. The past is gone. The future has not yet arrived, and yet here we are, together for a time, in what Dogen's energy calls the eternal present. Complete this moment. A moment which is so vast, and interdependent that it fully includes both the past and the future. This pathway of truth doesn't require much of us at all. All we need to do is to notice and pay rapt attention to each and everything, each and every idea, each and every moment of time as it's dropping away.

[11:11]

And then to notice, as Dogen did, in the wake of his own realization about reality, that even that noticing itself had dropped away too, like raindrops on the temple roof. Or as Master Carpenter Paul Disco said to a number of us on our arrival here at Green Gulch several decades ago now, Zen isn't about what you're going to get, it's about what you're going to lose. And body and mind, dropping off over and over again, which it does without any effort at all. So having faith in what's left over after body and mind drop off, and then stepping forward into the next moment of our life is what the path is all about. It's not about planning the day or the year or the next step. It's about the actual experience of it.

[12:14]

the living of it, how it looks and feels, how it smells, tastes, and sounds, always and only in the present moment, the big, fat present moment. And yes, it is okay to glance at your watch or at your calendar in order to align yourself with the time and the season, if you need to. But we ought to take care not to confuse those measuring devices with the actual life of our animal bodies. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Featherless bipeds obeying not only the law of gravity, but what the Buddha called the facts of life. Impermanent, like raindrops. Selfless, like water flowing. and suffering from some unquenchable thirst.

[13:18]

These teachings, especially the facts of life, can be initially very unsettling to our carefully constructed worlds of safety and equilibrium. We can become quite frightened when the world seems to be falling apart again and again. Summer? Gone. Fall? Gone. Winter is coming. There's a story that I told recently about my own effort to walk the pathway. A story that took place many years ago now. Gone. And yet I can remember something about a particular hour of that particular day that still has meaning for me. Like a well-worn signpost that once helped me to find my way. Following several years of practicing at Tassajara, I had returned to the city center where I hit a particularly big rough spot in my effort at transforming my life, especially at transforming my own behavior in response to the world.

[14:31]

Behaviors arising from irritation, from lust, and from boredom. Those very forces which... in my life had repeatedly sent me down a wrong path. What I was failing to recognize, however, as the Buddha had, was that my behavior was a response to the workings of my own mind, you know, that it was autoimmune disease. I think we all know the word projection by now, which pretty much summarizes the Buddha's primary insight. Our life is a creation, of our mind. It's a teaching from the Dhammapada, an ancient set of verses attributed to the Buddha. What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday. Our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow. Our life is a creation of our mind.

[15:33]

He beat me. She robbed me. They cheated me. He hurt me. Those who think such thoughts will not be free from hate. He beat me. She robbed me. They cheated me. He hurt me. Those who think not such thoughts will be free from hate. For hate is not conquered by hate. Hate is conquered by not hating. Those who know this do not fight against each other. So then back to my story. So one morning as I was passing through the hallway of the Zen Center, I encountered an old friend, Brother David Stendhal Rost, who's a Benedictine monk. And he happened to be visiting that day as he often did. And as soon as I saw him in his monk's robes with his kind face, I started to cry. I told him about my longing to be happy and that somehow I had lost my way.

[16:40]

And then he said so sweetly that what I was going through was a spiritual emergency. Something like what a caterpillar goes through in becoming a butterfly. And I think it was either his face or the tone of his voice, but I was deeply comforted by what he said. I think a spiritual emergency sounded so much better than another bout of depression. which is what I was fearing. But still, I was sadly weeping as I continued down the hall and went out the front door of the Zen Center building where I encountered Tension Reb Anderson. He looked at me and he said in a matter-of-fact way, Are you having a good time? So I confess that this seemingly crazy question made me start to laugh. It was just so absurd.

[17:43]

Can't you see that I'm crying? Reb? And yet somehow the laughter that erupted from inside of me had transformed the tears of sadness into tears of joy. The joy that comes with a moment of understanding. You know, understanding how it is to be a human being. I could see in that moment that joy and sorrow are two sides of a balancing scale, or two sides of the same coin. As are light and dark, up and down, left and right, me and you. Nothing whatsoever separating the two sides except for the workings of the human mind, which can't help but pivot from one side to the other, ceaselessly. The Zen ancestors were not trying to get it right to find the right side. They were just trying to break us loose, to help us rebalance the scales again and again.

[18:49]

Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. As one whole body walking upright and mindfully along the path. For the rebalancing that I am talking about today, from hating to not hating, craving to not craving, from ignorance to wisdom, we will each need the kind of support and encouragement that I have been so fortunate to receive from all of my comrades here at the Zen Center and from all of you who join us as you are today in our mission to benefit all beings. The reason I turned to the loving kindness meditation for support and giving the talk this morning is that it speaks directly to the heart of human suffering. You know, the words are in plain speak, familiar and heartfelt. I had a very similar appreciation of plain talk this past week while watching the PBS special by Ken Burns on country music, which if you haven't seen, please do.

[19:59]

Absolutely wonderful. And as one of the musicians said, all you need to write a country song is three chords and a good story. So as you all know, country music stories are crafted to hit home, which is right here. Right here. Right where our feelings are being born. Our love and our loss, our joy and sorrow, our avarice, our generosity, our mercy, our cruelty, our life. and our death. A loving kindness meditation is kind of like that too. A country song that we can share with our kids about how to live a life of wisdom, goodness, and nonviolence. And it tells us how to do that. How to be upright, strenuous, and sincere without pride, easily contented, and joyous. And the how has several parts, of course, given what a complicated set of problems we humans have fabricated for ourselves.

[21:07]

The first part tells us not to be submerged by the things of the world, to not take upon ourselves the burden of riches. I think this is a tricky one for those of us in this highly materialized world. You know, now that I and a number of my fellow colleagues senior residents here at Zen Center are about to move from our homes here to a place called Enso Village in Sonoma County, I have a mounting regret for all the things of the world that I must now pack or discard in order to leave one home for the next. Which brings to mind another story that I read long ago about the Bushmen in Africa who for millennia beyond lumber, had traveled through their arid homeland following the sound of the thunder which signaled the arrival of the rains. When other humans arrived in their land, they built houses out of cinder blocks.

[22:11]

They put stuff in those houses and they told the bushman to live there, which they did. And their simple wandering life simply vanished. The next part of this meditation instructs us to control our senses, to be wise and not puffed up, and to do nothing that is mean or that the wise would reprove. These are very few words and easy to say, but will probably take most of our lifetime in order to accomplish. For example, controlling our senses invites us to carefully attend to those behaviors that pop up. when our sense organs are stimulated, to notice what happens to us when we smell a roasting turkey in the oven, or see a beautiful blue Tesla zooming past us on the freeway, or even more so when our dear friends and faraway neighbors are being harmed.

[23:16]

Although controlling isn't quite the right word, it does encourage care and thoughtfulness. I think I found a better word when I was looking around. I found the word prudence, an old-fashioned word, which carries with it these values of common sense, discretion, wisdom, good judgment, poor thought, thrift, and a wise restraint. The text also mentions doing nothing that is mean or that the wise would be proved. And I also find this one to be particularly tricky, given our human tendency to sneak around when we are compelled to do things that are not so nice. Another of the stories that I appreciate knowing from the old wisdom teachings is about this very tendency. This story is one of the Jataka tales, which are the Buddhist versions of country songs. They carry a moral message, especially directed to our young.

[24:21]

Each of the Jataka tales, of which there are many, recounts a time that the Buddha-to-be appeared in the world as a seeker, endeavoring to do good, to avoid evil, and to benefit all beings, sometimes appearing as an animal, such as a deer, a monkey, or an elephant, sometimes as a kindly human, who often gave their own lives to save the lives of others. These virtuous and courageous beings came to be known as bodhisattvas, awakening beings. So a Jataka tale includes an extensive cast of characters who get into all kinds of trouble, whereupon the bodhisattva intervenes to resolve the problems and bring about a happy ending. The kind of stories that we liked when we were children and would probably like even more so right now. This particular Jataka tale speaks to this imperative to align our actions in the world with our core values.

[25:26]

I am poor and weak, said the master one day to his students, but you are young and I teach you. It is therefore your duty to find the money which your old teacher needs to live. How can we do so, asked the students. The people of this town are so little generous that it would be vain to ask them for help. My children, replied the master, there is a way to gain money, not by asking, but by taking. It would be no sin for us to steal, for we deserve money more than others do. But alas, I am too old and weak to do it myself. We are young and strong, replied the students. We can do it for you. In fact, there's nothing we wouldn't do for you. Dear Master, only tell us how to act and we will obey. Young and strong as you are, it will be nothing for you to seize a rich man's purse, said the Master. This is the way to do it. Choose a quiet spot where no one is watching.

[26:31]

Then catch hold of the passerby and take their money. Do not do them any harm. Straight away we go, said all the students, except for one. who had been silent with his eyes cast downward. The teacher looked at this youth and said, My other students are courageous and eager to help me, but it seems as though you will do little to ease your teacher's suffering. Forgive me, master, the youth replied. The plan you have explained to us seems to me impossible, and that's the reason for my silence. Why is it impossible? the master asked. Because there is no place wherein no one is watching, replied the student. Even when I am quite alone, myself is watching. I would rather take a bowl and beg than allow myself to see me stealing. At these words, the master's face lit up with joy.

[27:33]

He bowed deeply to the young student and then warmly embraced him. I am so happy, he said, that among my students, one has understood my teaching. The other students, seeing that their master had meant to test them, bent their heads in shame. From that day on, whenever an unworthy thought came into their minds, they remembered their companion's words, myself is always watching. And thus they all became great teachers, helping many people, and living happily. So what I like about this story is how in such a simple way it points to the most inescapable and yet seemingly inobvious truth about our human lives. And that is that wherever I go, there I am. And again, as a meditation teacher myself, I propose that the best way to observe ourselves and all of our tendencies is

[28:36]

towards violations of our own sincere intentions towards kindness and goodness, is through the simple practice of quiet sitting. Quiet sitting can open gateways to the realms of our senses, to the sounds and the colors, the textures and fragrances of this precious world. The rain on the roof, a campfire at the beach, a well-made tofu stew, But most importantly, it can open a gateway into an ever greater awareness of the workings of our own conscious minds. By attending to and caring for the things that appear in our minds, the thoughts and images, memories, feelings, impulses, and so on, we can begin to witness our usual tendency to try and control those things by manipulating them or grabbing a hold of them and believing them or by trying to push them away. We can even notice at times that we are afraid of our own thoughts, or we're ashamed of them, and how strong the impulse is to do something, anything, as the old teacher told his students, to find a place where no one is watching.

[29:52]

But if, on the other hand, we are willing to bear witness to our own thoughts and to the impulse, impulsive actions that come from them, we can begin to engage in the many teachings that would call on us to slow it down, to reflect, and eventually to subdue our habitual calculating and at times immoral reactivity. So the next part of the loving kindness meditation reads like a prayer, a prayer for the well-being of the world. May all beings be happy. May they be joyous and live in safety. All living beings, whether weak or strong and high or middle or low realms of existence, small or great, visible or invisible, near or far, born or to be born, may all beings be happy. By not deceiving others or ourselves, by not acting out of anger or hatred, we discover within our own life,

[30:58]

an undiscovered country of boundless regard for all life, and a mind, our own mind, the mind of awakening, that suffuses love over the entire world, above, below, and all around, without limit. At the end of this meditation, we are given a brief review of how to practice in such a way. Let one practice the way with gratitude. not holding to fixed views, endowed with insight, freed from sense appetites. One who achieves the way will be freed from the duality of birth and death. So as we leave this room in a little while and move back out to our places in the world, to our homes, offices, to the shops and the playgrounds, Please remember that troubles are nothing new for the human race.

[32:00]

And therefore our ancestors, both new and old, out of nothing at all, conjured up country songs for the relief of our sadness and our suffering. Songs of loving kindness and a friendship to all beings. Like this one that I'm going to ask the elders of you among us to join me in singing. This is by Carole King. Steph, are you here? Steph? Okay. Karina? Okay, here we go. You've got a friend. Okay. Steph, can you hit a pitch for us here? When you're down and troubled. And you need some love and care. And nothing, no, nothing is going right. Close your eyes and think of me. And soon I will be there.

[33:03]

To brighten up even your darkest night. You just call out my name and you know wherever I am, I'll come running to see you again. Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call and I'll be there. Oh, yes, I will. You've got a friend. If the sky above you grows dark and full of clouds, and that old north wind begins to blow, keep your head together and call my name out loud. Soon you'll hear me knocking at your door.

[34:07]

You just call out my name and you know wherever I am, I'll come run in to see you again. Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call and I'll be there. You've got a friend Ain't it good to know that you got a friend when people can be so cold? They'll hurt you and desert you. They'll take your soul if you let them. So don't you let them. One more time. You just call out my name and you know wherever I am, I'll come running.

[35:10]

To see you again. Winter, spring, summer, or fall. All you got to do is call. And I'll be there. Yes, I will. You got a friend. You got a friend. Yes, baby. You got a friend. Lots of friends. Thank you all so much. For more information, visit sfcc.org and click Giving. May we fully enjoy the Dharma.

[36:03]

@Transcribed_UNK
@Text_v005
@Score_97.49