This podcast is offered by San Francisco's Zen Center on the web at sfcc.org. Our public programs are made possible by donations from people like you. Good morning, everybody. Wonderful to have you all here today. Have your presence and your smiles and... inner light and fire that you have with you at all times, even though we may not always be aware of it or relating to it in some way. Thank you for bringing that forth and hopefully my inner fire will meet your inner fire. Also a special call out to the realm of live streaming, our deep interconnectedness with each other in this Amazing way. My name is David Zimmerman, for those of you who don't know me or didn't read the placard out there.

[01:07]

And I'm a resident priest here and teacher, and I've been living at Zen Center for over 17 years. So I still have a lot to learn. I wanted to start the morning off with two stanzas of a poem. Here it is. This will set the tone. Every year, everything I have learned in my lifetime leads back to this. The fires and the black river of loss whose other side is salvation, whose meaning none of us will ever know. To live in this world, you must be able to do three things.

[02:09]

To love what is mortal. To hold it against your bones, knowing your own life depends on it. And when the time comes to let it go, Let it go. So I think this poem is apropos in light of the recent fires in the North Bay. And I've been burning for the last two weeks. My understanding now that they have been mostly contained due to tremendous, tremendous work of many people fire professionals particularly, and now with a little help from Mother Nature. And we also have to acknowledge that there has been a lot of loss, a lot of devastation, destruction, and loss of lives.

[03:17]

At this point, I think 42 people have lost their lives to the fire, and there may be more, I don't know, at this point. And so many people have had to evacuate and flee their homes sometimes with only minutes to spare, leaving their homes with nothing but the very clothing on their backs. And I've often wondered what that would be like to be woken up and have just minutes to run out the door in order to save your life, leaving everything behind. I just also want to express my great gratitude to, again, to everyone who contributed to the myriad ways that those affected were supported. And I will probably not be news to you, but I think more of these fires will probably happen, because this is part of what we're beginning to see with

[04:26]

climate change and the impact of humans on this planet and in this area. So it just means that we need to be prepared in myriad ways to meet this reality. Even if we didn't know someone personally affected by these fires, I think we've been each affected, if we've been living in the area by breathing in the air, breathing in the smoke. And by breathing in the smoke, breathing in the particles of everything that has burned. Taking in the tragedies of others in this way, into our own being. Having their experience become ours. in this very intimate way.

[05:27]

A line from the death poem of one of our former abbots, Steve Stuckey, comes to mind. Each breath of mine is equally one of yours, my darling. So each of our individual lungs are connected in this way by the unseen air around us, the unseen space. And coming with it, carrying whatever it might be carrying, again, devastation, loss, death, but also heroism and courage and survival and hope and renewal. We're breathing in all of this. Essentially, we share the same breath. Think about that.

[06:32]

We share the same breath. And it's just this huge expanse of air circulating over the planet, weaving in and out each and every one of us, in and out every animal, every plant, Everything supported by air, by breath. I sometimes think that this breath goes beyond the planet. I imagine that the universe itself is actually just one giant exhale happening. You know, from the moment of the so-called Big Bang, expanding, expanding. expanding, expanding. So far, 13.7 billion years. And we're told at some point that's going to stop.

[07:38]

And suddenly, it's all going to collapse again. Another inhale contraction until nothing. Once more, perhaps. We breathe. the world breathes, the universe breathes, all as one. And yet, despite this vast breath, you know, and notwithstanding the smoke from the recent fires and the ongoing pollution that we have in our lives, I'm recognizing that recently it's just so hard for me to breathe at times. I find myself actually unconsciously holding my breath. Or taking gas of air out of nowhere, surprisingly. Does anyone else have this experience?

[08:41]

Am I the only one? And also, even that of their own relatives. They know the same species. They know who's related. Therefore, every tree is valuable to the community and worth keeping around as long as possible. It's part of the fabric of the community. And so that's why when a particular tree is sick, others support it and nourish it until it can recover. They send energy through their roots and through these fungal systems to the other trees, sometimes miles apart. taking for of and taking care of. Their friends and family and community members. And communicating, sending information. I'm curious what trees actually say to each other. What is the language of trees?

[09:42]

The lost language of trees. What is that? And what happens is they help this one who's sick. And then in time, that particular tree recovers. And then another one, you know, maybe the one had in the first place been sending the energy, now is the one that needs support and help. And in return, the energy comes back and supports it. And so, in other words, a tree can only be as strong as the forest that surrounds it. And apparently this communication and transmission of energy between the trees is ongoing. Very old. And so knowing this about trees brings new meaning to the lines in the Sanukai. Trunk and branches share the essence. Revered and common, each has its speech. And I think this is a beautiful example of the mysterious and often hidden interconnectedness of life.

[10:52]

Because As it is for trees, so it is for humans. And even in the midst of great distress and trauma, we are held and supported by unseen forces. I think I've, in the last month, heard three times about Mr. Rogers and how when he was ever watching the news and feeling very distressed, his mother would say to him, Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping. So thinking about this in terms of the relationship to the recent fires, looking for the helpers, how many people out of the blue just came and rushed to help evacuate people? Total strangers, carried them to the hospital wherever they needed to be, donated clothing or money or food. unseen in many cases, unknown.

[11:55]

This interconnectedness of coppers helping each other. We are not only not alone, but unfathomably connected to one another. As Dr. Martin Luther King said, we exist in an inescapable network of mutuality. inescapable network of mutuality. This is the sandukai. Right there is the sandukai. There's a Japanese word, miyoshi, which I came across recently and which means mysterious guidance or incomprehensible assistance. And so in a Buddhist context, Miyoshi refers to the possibility of Dharma practitioners receiving benefit from the Bodhisattva energy and Buddha energy of the world.

[13:00]

So for those of you who might know, Bodhisattva is a being who is committed, perhaps like you and me, to liberating all beings from suffering. So we take this vow to free all beings from suffering and to stay here in this very life until everyone has been saved, if you will, together. According to a Buddhist scholar and Zen teacher, Taigen Dan Leighton, the idea of Moshi implies trusting the world to give what is needed, no matter how painful it is. And it's also taking refuge. and returning to the world, and returning to one's place in the world. So myyoshi is the basis for the devotional practice that when we call on particular figures, bodhisattva figures, such as Kuan Yin, Avalokiteshvara, you know, other saints, you know, spiritual figures from other traditions, you know,

[14:15]

when we call on them for compassion and support in times of needs. But there's another side to me, Oshi, that's important to keep in mind, and that is that there's an individual responsibility here. It's not just a one-way street. It's not a matter of doing nothing and expecting that all you want to come your way. So an effort on your part is part of the equation. The world supports you as much as you step forward to participate. So in other words, it's our sincere practice that activates the response from the phenomenal world. So we have a responsibility to awake to our impact on the world and to each other. And with our responsive and aware practice, assistance can arrive, if you will, from the awakened space between us.

[15:21]

And then awake space itself becomes what it is that sustains and nurtures us. I happen to be living and serving as the director at Tassajara University Zen Mountain Center, which is our monastery in Big Sur, in 2008 when the Basin Complex fire passed through, surrounded, and did some damage to the monastery. And unlike many of those in the North Bay fires recently, we were fortunate enough to have three weeks to prepare for the fire. And We had the support of, of course, many students as well as many fire professionals. So the world came forward and supported us during our time of need. And then when the time that the fire actually did arrive, there were only five of us in the valley.

[16:29]

We were actually able to save the monastery because of all the preparation that we had done, because of all the support that we had received beforehand, and because we brought our practice to being there with the fire as it came forward in that moment. And the thing is that fire is a regular visitor or guest to the Ventana Wilderness. And it has returned several times since. And will continue to return for many, many years. Because that's the nature of the relationship between fire and the wilderness. And so what we know as stewards of the forest in that area is that we have to be prepared to welcome fire at any time. That's what it means to live there, to be part of that community. Fire, too, is one of our neighbors. In the year following the fire, I learned about how there are certain plants called fire followers.

[17:42]

And these plants and flowers actually, in order to thrive and propagate, need to have either smoke or the heat of fire in order to continue their life cycle in some way. So the heat or the smoke actually helps the seeds to pop open and to germinate. And much of the wellness itself is nourished by the ashes of everything that has been burned. And in that way, also is stimulated by... what we might consider a great trauma and devastation. Ancient said, blue lotus flowers bloom with fire. Therefore, blue lotus flowers always bloom within fire. If we want to know where within fire is, that is the place where blue lotus flowers are blooming. we should not fail to study within fire by holding fast the human view, which is the relative, or the heavenly view, which is the absolute.

[18:51]

Unless we are Buddhists and ancestors, we don't know that when a flower blooms, the world arises. And these lines are from a classical by the founder of Soto Zen Dogen, and in his book Shobogenzo, and the particular name of the fascicle is Kuge. It's often translated as flowers of emptiness or flowers of space. And the Ku in Kuge here is the same Ku that means emptiness or space or sky that I had mentioned earlier when I was talking about the five elements. And Kuge also, interestingly, happens to be a term used for phenomena and noumena, things that appear in awareness and things that come to mind. So basically what Dogen is doing in this fascicle is he's extending the meaning of kuge to refer to things as they are, the flowerings of that which is unbounded as space.

[20:05]

So according to Dogen, the whole universe blooms forth from Buddha nature. or deep self, or you could say the source or the mystery. And I think as many of you might know, the lotus, when we're talking about the blue lotus, is actually a symbol of awakening. You know, the idea that the lotus rises out of muddy water, something that many of us might consider unpure or unbeneficial conditions. But it actually needs that muddy water. It needs what's in the water to be able to grow, rise above it, and bloom in all its beauty. So it's dependent on it. And pointing to this then particular stanza, Dogen is reminding us that awakening is always located within fire. Our enlightenment, our waking up to our lives, always is within fire or within suffering. So awakening happens in the midst of greed and hate and delusion.

[21:11]

In the midst of samsara, distress, loss, and grief. And awakening itself is this actual rising out of the conditions to see the nature of conditioned existence. So we have to study the place of suffering. Because studying the place of suffering is the place of awakening. There is no awakening without delusions. And many of us think that, oh, if I practice for a long time, I'll get rid of the fires in my life. I'll get rid of delusion. I'm going to be this perfect being with no problems ever again in my life. And then, after you've been practicing for quite some time, you realize, I don't know if that's true. I don't think that's going to happen here. You begin to recognize, maybe I'm going to be stuck with this suffering. for the rest of my life.

[22:12]

And what we begin to do is realize we actually have to, rather than get rid of the suffering and the pain, find another way to relate to it. That's what's most important. That's the fundamental aspect of our practice. Not what is the suffering, or when will the suffering go away, but how is it that I'm engaging it, meeting it, understanding it, seeing the nature of it. Seeing the nature, in many cases, self-grasping in it. So we don't run away from fire. We don't run away from suffering. We turn toward the fire. Turn to meet it. And we sit in the middle of it. Sit in the middle of fire meeting our lives as a gateway to realization. So in this way, fire is an element of transformation. We open within fire. We open within suffering.

[23:14]

It can allow us that opportunity if we have the courage to allow it to. And the thing that's very interesting is, you know, it's like when we open to and allow ourselves to experience the fire, there's a light that's released. When things burn, there's a light that's released. And that light is this illumination, illumination of how things are. Illumination of there is no permanent inherent self. Illumination of there is impermanence always. Illumination even of dependent arising. Wisdom comes forth in the burning itself, in the light that comes from that. Again, I tell you from my personal experience during the 2008 fire, you know, Tassajara, that trees on fire still do zazen.

[24:20]

They, observing the trees, they stood upright amidst the flames as long as they could, allowing their bodies to be consumed by by the flames and the light, and then eventually to become light themselves, if they were fully consumed. To become light in space. And at the same time, there was this space underground, the dark, unseen world, where they were reaching out to the other trees through their roots, through their interconnected systems, asking for support. and the others offering them support for this very traumatic time. Helping each other to bear our distress. And so, just as the trees need each other in this way to bear the stress of this life and what it is to be human, or trees, we too need each other to bear the stress of what it means to be human.

[25:32]

And this is how we bloom all of reality into existence, moment by moment, only to let go and allow it all to return once more to the source. So I'm going to conclude with the poem that I started with. And I left off a stanza deliberately at the beginning. And now I will read the poem in its entirety. And for those of you who are not familiar with it, It's titled In Blackwater Woods, and it's by none other than Mary Oliver. Look, the trees are turning their own bodies into pillars of light, are giving off the rich fragrance of cinnamon and fulfillment, the long tapers of... Cattails are bursting and floating away over the blue shoulders of the ponds.

[26:38]

And every pond, no matter what its name is, is nameless now. Every year, everything I have ever learned in my lifetime leads back to this. The fires and the Black River. whose other side is salvation, whose meaning none of us will ever know. To live in this world, you must be able to do three things. To love what is mortal. To hold it against your bones, knowing your own life depends on it. And when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.

[27:42]

Thank you. 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 sfcc.org and click Giving. May we all fully enjoy the Dharma.

[28:15]

@Transcribed_UNK
@Text_v005
@Score_96.83