Good morning and welcome everybody to San Francisco Zen Center on this warm summer solstice. When we're young, when we're kids, each birthday is an exciting event. At least that's how I remember it.

[01:19]

When we're young, it appears that life's unfolding is... A sequence of additions. We learn to ride a bike. We learn to use the toilet. We learn about driving a car. About having our own money. About becoming independent from our parents. We find out the joy of a Stylish clothing. Relationships. And we add to our life experience. And as life passes and as we, I might say, ripen, as we mature, as we gain years,

[02:26]

our experience perhaps changes. Instead of seeing the passing years as an addition, we see them as a subtraction. It might begin with our eyesight. We lose our eyesight, our sharpness of eyesight. Birthdays no longer seem such a joyous occasion, but become a cause for reflection. Those fancy clothes in the closet no longer fit. And if they do, they seem a little, you know. Buddhism's first truth, first teaching, first noble truth is

[03:29]

is about impermanence. And there are many consequences of this founding truth of impermanence. And one of them is that in the end, everyone loses everything. And this is, in some ways, our common denominator. And this experience, a common mind we share of the truth of impermanence is one Dharma gate that we enter as we practice. And as the Bodhisattva's vow, which we'll chant at the end of today, says, Dharma gates are boundless. There are many Dharma gates. In the last six weeks, we've been talking together at the Zen Center about the Six Paramitas, a way of understanding how to live a life that organizes itself around waking up and being beneficial to others.

[04:52]

And this is the sixth week of this six-week time period, and I want to talk kind of talk about Prajnaparamita. Prajnaparamita being wisdom, paramita being the perfection. I want to talk about the perfection of wisdom, which is just some words, which are also a teaching in Buddhism, and which I've tried to make my inspiration or my basis for talking today. Time doesn't allow, I don't want to try to say anything about all six of the six Paramitas, but just to get them out there and to say them aloud for maybe those of you who haven't heard through, or even though everyone, to say them aloud, I'd like to say the six Paramitas are... Dhanaparamita, Sheila Paramita, Kshanti Paramita, Virya Paramita, Jhana Paramita, and Prajna, Wisdom Paramita.

[06:02]

And in English, this is generosity and ethics and patience and energy and concentration and wisdom. These are the six Paramitas. So, back to Prajna Paramita. Prajna is a word Sanskrit word. And it means, I read, I don't know Sanskrit, but I read that it means in Sanskrit, literally it means best knowledge or best knowing. And there is in the Buddhist tradition a kind of iconography of prajna. There's how prajna is depicted and shown, energetically captured. And one of the main ways that this teaching of wisdom is depicted, if you look at a statue, for instance, a Buddhist statue, a kind of code for Prajna is if you see a sword in the statue.

[07:11]

And downstairs in our meditation hall, we have a statue, a kind of small statue of Manjushri. And Manjushri is the bodhisattva of wisdom. Manjushri holds a sword. in his, her hand. And when you think of it, or even if you don't think of it, let me tell you that swords are kind of dangerous. And if I were standing next to a sword, which I don't usually, I think it might make me a little nervous. And showing this The fact that the wisdom is symbolized amongst other ways of being shown. The fact that a sword stands in for wisdom points to the truth that a little bit of knowledge is dangerous. A lot of knowledge is maybe even more dangerous.

[08:11]

And why? How come wisdom could be threatening or dangerous or scary? Well, in the teaching of Buddhism, in the teaching of waking up-ism, wisdom means that we perceive emptiness, the unfundamental, inherent emptiness of our existence, of our life. Experiencing Prajnaparamita, experiencing wisdom in some real way undermines our habitual idea of who we are, how we are, the way things work. And in addition to a sword having sharp edges that cut through, also swords have sharp points that puncture.

[09:37]

And there is also a part of a piece of wisdom that has potential, has the capacity to, in any one instant, to puncture us and deflate us and sort of like... support us in letting go. And this aspect of the sharp point of wisdom puncturing us can be abrupt. It can be immediate. It can catch us by surprise. It can happen on the sidewalk or in it. period of meditation or maybe it doesn't happen. Another quality at Prajna

[10:51]

Well, another one of the ways that Prajna is shown in the iconography of Buddhism is as a kind of spark. And Prajna can be like a spark that sets fire to the tender of our experience. Another way Prajna is sometimes shown in Buddhist art, it's like the sun that shines bright. It illuminates all the corners of a room. And when the wisdom, the sun of Prajna shines bright, really there's no place that we can hide. And in the light of that sun and the light of that insight and wisdom and experience of Prajna, Paramita, what is funny is the idea we might have had that we could hide. the idea that, oh, there's some secret place I've got that only I know about.

[11:59]

So it might be that we have the idea that experiencing wisdom having the knowledge of wisdom means that we have the knowledge of all the answers we might need but really Prajnaparamita is more like having all the questions the wonderful Tibetan teacher a wonderful and complicated Tibetan teacher Yogyam Trungpa said what did he say he said the question is the answer the question is the answer and I think that we're looking in the wrong way if we think that some practice or teacher or instruction that we receive is going to provide us with the ultimate answer that we can

[13:20]

just then wrap up neatly and keep. What we really hopefully can find in practice is the spirit of asking the right question at the right time. And we need to learn to trust our mind that asks, what's happening now? How am I at this instant? Am I using the 24 hours or being used by the 24 hours? And this spirit of honoring the question I think is something that runs deep in Zen tradition. I think that in some ways the holding with great respect the koan history of our tradition

[14:22]

is a holding with respect questions asked at other times and making them real at this time. There are many stories in Zen training. And now I'm going to tell you, I want to tell all of you about which of course leads to another story, which leads to another. There was some time ago, maybe 1,500 years ago, 1,400 years ago, there was a young boy who lived in China and studied at the village school was a village teacher, studied the classics, learned to write the characters.

[15:29]

And at one point in his study, he was asked to read aloud the Heart Sutra, the Heart Sutra. We call it Heart Sutra, its full name perhaps is the Mahaprajna Karmita Hridaya Sutra, the Heart of Perfect Wisdom Sutra, the Great Heart of Perfect Wisdom Sutra. And he was reading, this is a quite short, concentrated distillation of Buddhist teachings of wisdom and of emptiness. And he came to a place in the Heart Sutra where this young boy read the line that says, a passage that said, there is no eye, no ear, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind, no eye, no ear, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind. And this young boy stopped and touched his face and felt his eyes and ears and nose, maybe stuck his tongue out.

[16:37]

And he said to the teacher, he said, but I have eyes, I have ears, I have nose, tongue, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. And how does it go? There's an expression from the mouths of babes. innocent young person who stopped and said, wait a minute, what's this about? And the teacher said to him, he said, I don't know that I can answer your question. I think you should go over there. And he sent this boy on a journey. And this, one reason that we know this story, and we know about this journey, is this young man, the Dharma name was Tozan Ryokai, and he became a very important Zen teacher for us. As a matter of fact, he gave, from his name, he gave the tradition that we follow here at the Zen Center, the Sok To, Tozan, comes from his life.

[17:48]

So this village teacher didn't know how to answer his question. And that's itself actually an important, admirable talent, to know when you don't know, to send somebody elsewhere. And Tozan moved on from that small village, and he studied with the Zen teacher Nansen, who's famous amongst other things, for the koan story about killing a cat. And from Nansen, he went to study with Guishan, who was one of the enormous teachers of the time, who also founded a school of Zen, one of the five schools of Zen. Guishan was the founder. And from Guishan, he went to study with Yunyan, where he settled down and lived for many years, became a close student and a member of the Sangha, member of the assembly in Yunnan's temple.

[19:02]

He settled down deeply and after some years After some years of following the schedule and doing sishins and supporting the temple, it came to be time to leave. Before he left, though, Tozan asked his teacher, Yan Yan, he said, when I want to see it, it, it, when I want to see it, face to face, what should I do? And Yun Yun said, well, ask someone who's doing it. And Tozan said, well, that's what I'm doing right now. And his teacher Yun Yun said, really, what can I say? Really, what can I say?

[20:12]

And Yunnan's words are like the village priest, the village teacher, you know, what can I say? You'll have to figure this out yourself. So sometime later, right as he was leaving and moving on from the temple to continue his Dharma wanderings, he, Tozan, came up to Yunnan and said, I'm leaving now. With your blessing, I'm leaving. And Yunnan asked him, where are you going? Where are you going? And Tozan said, well, I don't know where I'm going to end up. And Yunnan said, are you returning home? And Tozan said, no, no, I won't. And then Yunnan said, if you leave, you know, it will be difficult to see one another again. And Tozan replied, it will be difficult not to see one another.

[21:22]

And then, just as he was about to leave, as he was at the gate of the temple and about to leave, Tozan asked Junyan, he said, if in the future someone asks me, what, teaching of my master is, what the dharma of union is. How should I answer them? And union was silent for a long pause and then said, just this is it. And hearing that tozan give a sigh, Tozan, founder of our Soto sect, Soto tradition, Soto school, continued to travel and as he traveled he continued to sometimes experience doubt and uncertainty about what his practice meant, how to be with other people.

[22:35]

And one day he was crossing a creek and looked down and saw in the water a reflection of his body. reflection of his face. And at that instant, upon seeing his reflection, he experienced a great understanding. Something moved in him, the sword of wisdom pricked him. And in that instant, he was changed. And he said, just this is it. You know, Yunnan and Tozan and Guishnan and these fellows who lived at this time, what's sometimes called the Golden Age of Zen, were enormous.

[23:46]

Examples. Tozan's teacher, Yunnan, had a Dharma brother, someone who he practiced alongside with. And his name was Dogo. And they were talking together, just having a conversation. And, you know, Yunnan asked his friend, what does... Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva do with so many hands and eyes? If you've seen, perhaps, the statues of Kanon of Avalokiteshvara, there are some statues that show multiple arms and perhaps a face that has eyes that look from behind and to the side. And Jungian asked his friend, what does Avalokiteshvara do with so many hands and eyes? And Dogo said to his brother, it's like a person groping for a pillow at night.

[24:51]

And Yunnan said, oh, I get it. I understand what you mean. And then Dogo said, well, oh, how do you understand it? And Yunnan said, entire body is hands and eyes. entire body is hands and eyes. And Dogo, his friend, said, well, you expressed it almost completely, but there's still something missing. So Jungian said, oh, something missing. Tell me, what's missing? And Dogo said to him, entire body is hands and eyes. I love a story about Suzuki Roshi, who was preparing for a journey of another sort, was laying on his sick bed and near to death.

[26:17]

This was maybe 36 years ago, 37 anyway. In 1971, and as his students gathered around his sickbed, his main disciple, Richard Baker, asked him, where will I meet you? And Suzuki Roshi covered with a blanket, quite sick. Richard Baker had his hands in gashow. I read when I read of this. And Suzuki Roshi brought his hands out from under the covers in gashow and with an index finger extended he drew a circle in the air and then bowed in his bed.

[27:24]

As Yun Yun says, it will be difficult not to meet again. Another story about Suzuki Roshi, a story that Stanley White, a student of Suzuki Roshi's and a student of Vanya's and someone who practiced in the early days here, Stanley White said, I had very little contact with Suzuki Roshi. I was quite a younger student of his. But what little contact I had, I paid quite a bit of attention to. And one of the first things, one of the first times I experienced Suzuki Roshi, I heard him give a lecture. And in the lecture he said, you know, everybody here, you're my friend.

[28:27]

And Stanley goes on to say, well, I hadn't been at Zen Center that long. And I was... I thought it was very strange to hear from this Japanese teacher that I barely knew that he and I were friends. I didn't quite know what he meant by friendship. So afterwards, I met him in his office where people passed and bowed to him after the talk. And I said, excuse me, if you have a moment, I want to ask a question. And he said, certainly. And so I said to him, you said that you're my friend. I said, Roshi, what do you mean by that? And he said, you know, Stanley, I look at you, and the little bit I know about you, I can see that you suffer. And I do too. Therefore, we're friends. And one sort of wisdom is to see in the midst of our

[29:39]

happy lives in the midst of the blossoming flowers of the summer solstice. And one is to see that things are impermanent and that this is a common bond we have with everybody, this fact that our life is touched by impermanence. As the Diamond Sutra says at the very end, as stars, a fault of vision, a lamp, a mock show, dew drops or bubbles, a dream, a lightning flash or a cloud. So should one view what is conditioned. So should one view what is conditioned. When we're young, it seems that life is a story of adding. And when we're older it seems that life is a story, is a process of losing.

[30:47]

When I was young my father changed my diapers and kept me clean. And when my father was old and in the hospital I wiped his cheeks to clear the food that he hadn't been able to fit into his mouth. So this is how, I don't mean to be somber, but this is how we understand the practice of our life and waking up. We should, we ought to include this knowledge in the midst of our joys. It's not so easy, somehow.

[31:53]

We're convinced, we have the feeling pretty deeply in us that we're incomplete, just as we are. We're incomplete, small and separate. So we look for something, and of course we don't find what we really need. And I think that the reason that zazen, the practice of sitting in meditation, is so completely, profoundly satisfying, even when it's a mess, is that in zazen we meet a mystery.

[33:01]

that we cannot control. And we don't need to think that this is a success, these actions are successful to have them transform our life. Because this thing called wisdom, whatever this thing called wisdom is, this perfection, the paramita of prajna, is something that we can't force to happen. That doesn't work. All we can do is see what happens, put ourselves in a situation where we turn our heart towards living.

[34:03]

a useful life. We turn our heart towards knowing that everything that we have ever wanted, everything that we might ever want, really, is insignificant. Because the secret to whatever peace And now that I say it, I guess it's not a secret and I don't know if it ever was. But the secret to whatever peace might be available for us in our life is to want less for ourselves and more for others. To wish as much as possible for others, especially to wish this for others who live a life that does not harm anyone else. Caring for others in this way, we naturally become just this person.

[35:20]

Sitting zazen like this begins with the knowledge, the experience that we can't let go, let go of our foolish common mind. And sitting zazen like this, at some point we might finally seem to let go. And sitting zazen like this, we might at some point even seem to let go of letting go. We might seem to go beyond letting go. And in our life, in our zazen, but also in our life, if we observe carefully, I say carefully, we might find ourselves in the place where we are gone, gone, gone beyond, gone beyond going beyond.

[36:22]

And then, like Yunnan, maybe, I hope for all of us that we might say, just this is it. Thank you. Yeah.

[36:43]

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