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. Is there anybody here for the first time this morning? A few over there. No, you don't count. And a few over. We have a veteran Zen student who's practicing being beginner's mind and has decided he is here for the first time. Excellent. And it is true, we are all here for the first time. My name's Ed Sadezon, I'm the abbot here. And welcome to Beginner's Mind Temple for you coming to the first time.

[01:02]

You're here on an unusual day in the sense of this is the last day of our fall practice period, which is a time where we intensify our practice through classes and sitting more. And we end it with a seven-day sashin, which is a period of time where we sit zazen mostly from 5.30 in the morning until 9 o'clock at night. And about half of the people in this room, or maybe more, have been doing that. So I guess probably the only important comment about all of that is that we don't have tea and cookies afterwards today. Because we're going to keep sitting until our special closing ceremony, which will be a Shuso ceremony at 3 o'clock. So the theme of the practice period is the harmony of difference and equality, which is sandokai in Japanese.

[02:02]

It was composed by Shurdo, who lived from 700 to 790 in China. So it is one of the founding poems in our tradition. Sets out the major themes of Zen practice as understood at that time. And the title, sandokai, kind of gives away the entire theme of the poem, san means multiplicity, relative things of the world, the forms of the world, and do means sameness, oneness, the absolute, the interconnectedness of everything, and kai is the merging or harmonizing, so san, do, kai means the harmony of difference and equality, the harmonizing of all the differences, we experience in the world with our unique connectedness to the world. Tsukiroshi's way of commenting on this is, many and one are different ways of describing one whole being.

[03:08]

Kai is the relationship between one great whole being and the many facets of one whole being. Kai means to shake hands. You have a feeling of friendship. The one whole being and the many things are good friends. So, you know, your hand is made up of many fingers, and yet it's one hand. And the fingers are good friends with the hand, or at least hopefully they're good friends with the hand, unless you're distracted and the little knife that you're using for cooking in the kitchen isn't properly handled and you cut yourself. So here's the first four lines. The mind of the great sage of India is intimately transmitted by from west to east, while human faculties are sharp or dull. seven days we've been listening to the sounds of the city, particularly the sounds of the city that come rolling down our city streets.

[04:36]

At one point I actually felt like it was really just like the Tassara stream. This was the sound of the Tassara stream going by. It's a little more dramatic from time to time. Anyway, while human faculties are sharp or dull, the way has no northern or southern ancestors. The spiritual source shines clear in the light. The branching streams flow on in the dark. Grasping at things is surely delusion. According with sameness is still not enlightenment. So I'm going to dive into the first two sentences of the poem because I think they're so critical to the... understanding of the poem the great sage of India well that's the great sage of India was Buddha and when Buddha attained enlightenment under the bow tree he said it is wonderful to see Buddha nature in everything and each individual that understanding that Buddha nature exists in each of us and in all things according to this poem has been intimately transmitted

[05:51]

from India, through China, Japan, and to here, from west to east. And this is a very important understanding. Sukiyoshi often said, the most important thing is to believe that you have Buddha nature. So yesterday we celebrated Buddha's enlightenment. That's traditionally in Japan celebrated on December 8th. And fortunately this year we actually celebrated on December 8th because it was during the time of the Rohatsu Sashin is defined as a Sashin that happens on celebrating Buddhist enlightenment and ending on December 8th. We ended on the 9th to accord with our weeks. So it's a very important sitting and a very important ceremony. And I thought as part of that I would share a... famous case concerning Buddha called the world honored one twirls a flower.

[06:54]

This is the case six or story six or koan six in the gateless barrier. Once, once in ancient times when the world honored one was at Mount on vulture peak, he twisted a flower before his assembly, his assembled disciples all were silent and Only Maha Kashapa broke into a smile. The world-honored one said, I have the I-treasury of right dharma, the subtle mind of nirvana, the true form of no form, and the flawless gate of the teaching. It is not established upon words and phrases. It is a special transmission outside tradition. I now entrust this to Maha Kashapa. This is a very famous story in Zen Buddhism. Of course, it's not a story to be taken literally. There's no record of this particular incident happening in the early sutras of Buddhism.

[07:59]

It showed up in a Chinese text dated 10036 AD, which is basically 1400 years after Buddha's death. And this was an effort as Buddhism was moving into China or establishing itself of China, of establishing the authority of Buddhism in China, since in China, anything that didn't come from China, really, we're not sure it's the right stuff. And even though Buddhism had been around for hundreds of years, centuries, it still was a foreign thing. And in China, the way you establish authority, kind of coming out of Confucianism and Taoism is through family lineage, you know, And so this created the lineage. Mahakashapa was the first ancestor of Buddha and he transmitted the true teaching to a series of ancestors which then all the way went into China. So this first ancestor transmission story was very important in establishing Buddhism in China and there's something very true about it even though it's not literally true because

[09:10]

I think it really is literally, it is true that Buddhism got transmitted face to face, warm hand to warm hand, from one person to another, all the way along. So, to the story, we've got the world-honored one, that's Buddha, at Vulture Peak, which is a traditional place that he gave talks, and it was common in those days for people people coming to a talk to bring flowers to offer to the speaker. And so Buddha probably was given a flower by somebody and he held it up. You know, kind of like if I held up this stick, looked around and waited for somebody to crack a smile. Which many did in this room. So we can assume the true Dharma has been transmitted.

[10:12]

So presentation mode is very important in Zen teaching. There's very many ways to present the truth or the Dharma. One way is to hold up a flower and say nothing. Another one is Yao Shan was a famous teacher in Zen. He came into the Buddha Hall just like this. stood up on the lecture, looked around, got down, and walked out of the Buddha hall. That was called a presentation style of giving a lecture. He just presented himself. Gutai was famous for, somebody would say, what's the meaning of Zen? And he'd hold up his finger. One finger Zen. That was it. So that's presentation style. Discourse style would be to have a long two-hour lecture on the nuances of a particular sutra. And I'm doing something in between. So anyway, this presentation style is very important. It's part of the words here.

[11:22]

A special transmission outside tradition. So it's a transmission of the truth outside of the tradition of the scriptures. It is not established upon words and phrases. This transmission does not depend on words and phrases that are happening. It's an understanding, a direct understanding of the reality of the moment. So there's many such stories in Zen about this intimate transmission, this connection that happens between two people for which there's a kind of understanding. And one of my favorites that actually uses the word intimate is... this story of Daizhan and Fayan. Daizhan and Fayan were monks on pilgrimage, which was quite common in China during this period. They were actually going to a particular temple that they wanted to study under a famous teacher, but they got caught in a snowstorm, so they got diverted to a smaller temple in the mountains nearby.

[12:33]

And, no, actually... Dizon was just on pilgrimage. I mean, Fion was on pilgrimage. Dizon was the abbot of the temple. I was misreading this. So Fion's on pilgrimage. He is with his friends, and he wandered into this temple, which Dizon was the abbot of. And Dizon asked, where are you going? When he met Fion, Fion said, I'm around on pilgrimage. Dyson said, what is the purpose of your pilgrimage? That's a good question. And for some reason, Fayan didn't say, well, I'm searching to meet famous Abbot so-and-so and be enlightened or something. He just said, I don't know. And this, I don't know, is very famous in Zen, a kind of open mind. I don't know what I'm doing, actually.

[13:36]

just here. And Daizan said, not knowing is most intimate. Not knowing is a root into the moment, a root into the opportunity to meet somebody, an open-minded chance to connect intimately. And according to This story, which is why these stories are like this, at that moment, Fayan was enlightened or woke up or had his transmission. So what is all this transmission about? What is all of this authorization that supposedly happened between Buddha and Maha-Kashapa, between Daizan and Vayan?

[14:45]

On what authority do we live our lives? I think actually we are always seeking legitimacy with our diplomas, our certificates, our job titles, ceding our authority as individuals to institutions, universities, churches. And underneath all of this we long for a deeper authorization. This may be a fundamental bottom-line source of our unhappiness. We do not feel ourselves to be the authors of our lives. And we need to be our own authors, our own authority. We need to feel like we have the authority to run our life, to author our life, to make the crucial and important decisions of our life, and to be authentic.

[15:51]

So in this story we have an instance of the conferring of real authority, not by Buddha to Maha-Kashapa, But between Buddha and Mahakashapa, reality conferring authority on itself, between them there's a trust, the kind of trust that begins and ends with each of us recognizing reality, the reality of our existence, standing on that ground and coming out to meet another. This is what our tradition says is where true authorization of your life comes from. I have a wonderful quote from Suzuki Roshi from the book Not Always So. He mentioned, when you see someone practicing sincerely, you see yourself. I like that sentence. When you see someone practicing sincerely, you see yourself. If you're impressed by someone's practice, you may say,

[16:56]

oh, she is doing very well. That she is neither she nor you. She is something more than that. What is she? After thinking for a while, you may say, oh, she is there and I am here. But when you were struck by her practice, that her is neither you nor her. When you are struck by something, that is actually the real you. tentatively I say you, but that you is the pure experience of our practice. So somehow, and I love the word when he says struck, when you're struck by someone's practice. We used to look at Suzuki Roshi and we used to say, oh my goodness, his practice is so incredible. What can I do to...

[17:57]

be like him. How can I learn to practice like him? But actually, when we saw his practice in that way, at that moment, our capacity to see his practice that deeply, that intimately, was partly our connection to him. We were so deeply struck by it that we no longer were us looking at Suzuki Roshi, but we were together. And that that was an authorization, that was a transmission of practice, that was the pure feeling of practice. So when you can stand in your own reality and meet the world, it can be another person, the sound of a bird, the oak tree in the courtyard. In connecting in that way, you feel the true authority of your life and you will know what to do and how to act.

[18:58]

Dogen calls that practice realization. So the first two lines are basically saying you have the mind and capacity to stand in your own reality and meet the world. So very encouraging. Of course things get in the way. The seventh line of the poem that I read earlier is, grasping at things is surely delusion. Somehow we can't really meet another person because we're so busy grasping at things. Either I want more of this, I want less of this, I don't like this person, I like this person too much. So then the question becomes, which is addressed in the following 42 lines of the poem, how do we do it? which I'm not sure I'm going to get through all of that today.

[20:00]

But we'll at least try the next two lines. While human faculties are sharp or dull, the Wei has no northern or southern ancestors. So there were two schools of Zen that were very dominant at this time in China, descendants of the fifth ancestor, the northern school founded by Shen Shui, and the southern school founded by Wei Ning, often referred to as the sixth patriarch. The northern school was known as the gradual way of building character and practice, and the southern school was known as the sudden way. So as Shurdu is saying, the way is not involved in such sectarian discussions. And there's a lot of history about this, but we're not going to do that. And so he was saying, you know, Sudden, gradual, both the same. Both schools are good schools for Buddhism. Sikiroshi, who in the summer of 1970, a year and a half before he died, gave 12 wonderful lectures on the Sandokai, which got assembled in the book Branching Streams Flow in the Darkness.

[21:17]

And his comment on while human faculties are sharp and dull is the following. Clever ones do not always have an advantage in studying or accepting Buddhism. And it is not always the dull person who has difficulty. A dull person is good because he is dull. A sharp person is good because he is sharp. Even though you compare, you cannot say which is best. It's so easy for us to compare and say, oh, that person's practicing so much better than I am or that practicing's person's practicing worse than I am. We're so busy comparing all the time without having any idea what practice is about. And almost certainly any gauges or measures we have of our own practice are very faulty ones. Especially since we tend to be so critical of ourselves. Anyway, Tsukiroshi goes on to say that he was his teacher's last disciple, but he became the first because he wasn't smart enough to leave like the other students did.

[22:28]

Tsukiroshi is plenty smart, but anyway. So there's a traditional story in Buddhism about good students and not so good students, and it's in the chapter called The Maro Zen by Tsukiroshi. In Zen Mind and Beginner's Mind by Suzuki Hiroshi's collection of lectures. In our scriptures, it is said that there are four kinds of horses. Excellent ones, good ones, poor ones, and bad ones. The best horse will run slow and fast, right and left at the driver's will before it sees the shadow of the whip. The second best will run just as well as the first one does just before the whip reaches its skin. The third one will run when it feels the pain on its body. And the fourth one will run after the pain penetrates to the marrow of its bones. You can imagine how difficult it is for the fourth one to learn how to run. We hear this story.

[23:35]

Almost all of us want to be the best horse. If it is impossible to be the best one, we want to be the second best. She goes on to say, this, I think, is the usual understanding of this story of Zen and of Zen. You may think that when you sit in Zazen, you will find out whether you're one of the best horses or one of the worst horses. Here, however, there is a misunderstanding of Zen. If you think the aim of Zen practice is to train you to become one of the best horses, you will have a big problem. This is not the right understanding. If you practice Zen in the right way, it does not matter whether you are the best horse or the worst one. When you are determined to practice Zazen with the great mind of Buddha, you will find the worst horse is the most valuable one. In your very imperfections, you will find the basis for your firm, way-seeking mind. Those who can sit perfectly...

[24:37]

Physically, we'll usually take more time to obtain the true way of Zen, the actual feeling of Zen, the morrow of Zen. But those who find great difficulties in practicing Zen will find more meaning in it. So I think sometimes the best horse may be the worst horse, and the worst horse may be the best one. So for us not-so-good horses, I think that's very encouraging. And certainly in your life, sometimes you're a good horse and sometimes you're not so good horse, or at least that's your opinion of it. But he's really saying, you know, even when you're having the most difficulties, that may be the time when your practice is the best. He says, your practice is founded in your delusion and your confusion. So... So the important point here is we all have our weaknesses and our strengths, but that has nothing to do with practicing the way.

[25:44]

We can make many comparisons. She sits well, he's very disciplined, on and on. But according to Shurdu and Suzuki Roshi, these have nothing to do with following the path. There is no northern or southern school. There is just your own individual path. That's really true. There's a special path of Buddhism designed specifically for you. Each one of you has your own path that you're following. And it is the authentic path of Buddhism. Of course, if you enter this temple, you will find that we have all kinds of guidelines. Seven or eight pages of rules And you are encouraged to follow all those rules, even though you may have your own path. You find your path within our path. So the only way to the truth is manifested in the practice of the individual practitioner.

[27:02]

The only way truth is manifest is in the practice of the individual practitioner. Truth is not some abstract thing out there. Truth is not something I'm saying here. Truth is manifested in the way you practice Buddhism. So, that's the message of the third and fourth line. You have this capacity. Nothing's stopping you from doing it. So, I will say a little bit about the next two lines. The spiritual source shines clear in the light. The branching streams flow on in the dark. So this is a kind of beautiful metaphysical statement.

[28:07]

We have two metaphors here. Light and dark and images of a stream and its source. So light and dark. In Buddhism, darkness stands for unity, oneness, emptiness, nothingness. So if all the lights are out in the dark, everything's the same. So there's no way to discriminate. We do not know what is going on in utter darkness. Darkness is something beyond our understanding. And we think of light as everything we can see, the discriminating mind, everything that's in the light, all the forms and discriminations of the world. So that's how we distinguish things, is in the light. So the light is the relative world, and darkness is the absolute. So in the other metaphor, we have a similar kind of thing. The branching streams, that's what's out in the light.

[29:11]

If you're hiking along in a beautiful mountain, you can see the streams flowing along. But what's the source of the streams? You can't see because the source of the streams are... water hidden in the mountains, hidden in the darkness, the depth of the mountains is the source of the streams. So that's also the absolute, the source, and the branching streams are the relative. So you've got two metaphors that are putting forward the same thing. Darkness is the absolute, light is the relative, the stream has its source, and that's the absolute, and the branching streams of the relative. And then he mixes them together in this marvelous couplet. The spiritual source, which is the darkness hidden in the mountain, shines clearly in the light. So he's switched them.

[30:15]

He's mixed them. And the branching streams, which are relative, flow on in the dark. The relative flows on in the absolute. The absolute shines clear in the light. So the harmony of difference and equality is this. Whatever we think the absolute is, whatever we think is other than the relative, is flowing in the relative all the time. In fact, there is no difference between the absolute and the relative. There is no absolute outside of the very specific relative life that we live. So the stream is pure source and the pure source is the stream.

[31:20]

The pure source is flowing all over even though you don't know it. This don't know is what we call dark and is very important. It's a wonderful sort of sense that in every relative situation, in every moment, whatever thing we're doing has the depth of all that can be. This is sort of one of the standard things in Buddhism. Wash dishes. Washing dishes is just as good as sitting zazen. It's just as good as climbing to the top of a mountain. Everything, brushing your teeth, whatever it is that you're doing, if you do it with your complete attention, it has the ultimate in it. I like that sort of metaphor of a stream flowing. Everything is gently and constantly flowing beyond itself to the heart of things.

[32:26]

Streams do flow back to the ocean. Everything is teaching us and guiding us to wisdom. We just are so stuck, we cannot feel the movement. I'm going to skip the next 30 lines. Next, this is the advantage of sitting a seven-day sashim is we went through several more of these lines and get to the end of the poem. Progress is not a matter of far or near, but if you're confused, mountains and rivers block your way. Progress is not a matter of far or near. That's the idea that, oh, after I practice for 20 years, then I'll understand Zen.

[33:35]

I'll know what practice is. Practice is not a matter of far or near. Progress is not, it's right here at this moment. But if you're confused, mountains and rivers block your way. Such a beautiful meadow. metaphor, mountains and rivers blocking your way. I was hiking in the Grand Paradiso Park in northern Italy, which is a beautiful, not well-traveled part of northern Italy, and the Grand Paradiso is the highest peak entirely within Italy. And it was still early spring, but I saw this route on my map that I could hike up and get a good view of the glacier, which was right at the hanging off the peak. But in order to get back within the day, I had to cross a stream that was flowing from the glacier. And of course they had said that the stream normally you can't cross because it's too full.

[34:39]

But eventually in the summertime they put the bridge out and then you can get across. And otherwise you have to hike back the same way you came, which makes it a very long day. So I had this feeling as I approached whether there was going to be a bridge across that stream or not. Of course, fortunately, there was because crossing that rushing stream would have been a difficult task. And certainly, if you've hiked in mountains at all, you know how sometimes it's difficult to get through a particular pass in a mountain, especially if a thunderstorm has come up and it's very dramatic. Well, this is our life, too. Sometimes in the middle of our life, we feel like It's impossible to go forward. We have problems that are totally insolvable, and we don't know what to do. And we're worried. And of course, this is always the case. But this poem, and Shurdu, is encouraging us.

[35:42]

And I encourage you, because I have seen a lot of people with a lot of problems, and one can find a way if you just stick with your practice. continue your practice, you can cross the rushing rivers and go through the mountain passes. You will make it. Life is much more workable than it seems when you're in the midst of your difficulties. So to the last two lines, I respectfully urge you who study the mystery, don't pass your days and nights in vain. those who study the mystery, those are all of you here who actually are willing to ask the big question, what's going on? What does it mean to be a human being? What's life about? Who am I?

[36:43]

What should I do? How should I behave? Big questions. And it's a mystery. Fill a mystery after all these years of trying, the human beings, to figure out what life's about. So mostly, I applaud you who are willing to accept the responsibility of looking into that question. And Shurdu does too and says, don't pass your days and nights in vain. As Suzuki Roshi would say in his more literal translation, don't goof off. I thought I would end with a poem by Kay Ryan, who's a friend of ours at Zen Center, a resident of Marin County, who actually became the nation's poet laureate a few years ago.

[37:50]

Wonderful poet. Her poems are very concise. Every word holds meaning. So I'll read it slowly a couple of times and we'll get the hang of it. For those of you, and there are a few in the room that are not familiar with the United States, the Niagara River ends in the Niagara Falls, which I think are the largest falls in the world and you certainly don't want to go over them. As though the river were afloor, We position our tables and chairs upon it. Eat and have conversation. As it moves along, we notice, as calmly as though dining room paintings were being replaced, the changing scenes along the shore.

[38:54]

We do know, we do know this is the Niagara River, but it's hard to remember what that means. read it one more time. So, the Niagara River. As though the river were a floor, we position our tables and chairs upon it. Kind of nice. We've got our little raft of tables and chairs. Eat and have conversation. Well, that's mostly what our life's about, right? We eat, we have conversation with our friends. As it moves along, as life moves along, we notice that as calmly as though dining room paintings were being replaced. The changing scenes along the river. The changing scenes along the shore. We do know, we do know this is the Niagara River, but it's hard to remember what it means.

[39:57]

And we do know we are going to die. We do know life is incredibly short, but it's hard to remember. We're so distracted by the changing scenes along the shore. So I encourage you to practice as best you can and enjoy this marvelous life that you've been given as a great gift. Thank you very much. Thank you for listening to this podcast offered by the San Francisco Zen Center. Our Dharma talks are offered free of charge, and this is made possible by the donations we receive. Your financial support helps us to continue to offer the Dharma. For more information, please visit sfzc.org and click Giving. May we fully enjoy the Dharma.

[41:03]

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