Those words. Good morning, everyone. It's a joy and an honor to be with you all today. And earlier this week at Beginners of Mind Temple, we started a 10 week fall practice period, which due to the limitations on public assembly, from the ongoing pandemic is, of course, happening entirely online and in the rooms and homes of everyone who's participating, of which I understand quite a number of you are doing so. And if you've been following along, you know that the theme of the practice period is fierce compassion, enacting bodhisattva principles in a troubled world. And on Wednesday, Abbott Ed and I, who are jointly co-leading the practice period, offered an introduction to the Bodhisattva ideal and the seven primary Bodhisattva archetypes that we'll be exploring.

[01:07]

And we also spoke a little bit about how we might engage with and embody these traditional archetypes of wisdom and compassion in our own lives. And for those of you who are not familiar with the term bodhisattva, it's a Sanskrit word commonly translated as awakening being. And according to Taigen Dan Leighton in his book, Faces of Compassion, sattva, which means sentient being, also has etymological roots that include intention, meaning the intention to awaken, as well as courage or heroism. referring to the resolution and the strength involved on the path of practice, involved on the bodhisattva path. So in Manayan Buddhism, a bodhisattva generally refers to anyone who has generated bodhicitta, which is a spontaneous wish and compassionate mind to attain Buddhahood for the benefit of all sentient beings.

[02:16]

Essentially, bodhisattvas have chosen to forgo their own final liberation in order to first assist all beings throughout the vast reaches of time and space to fully realize their own liberation. And taking numerous forms, some are quite awesome and fantastical, and some are very, you could say, next-door ordinary. A bodhisattvas function in a myriad of ways right in the middle of the busyness, the chaos, and the suffering of our world. So our endeavor this practice period is to study various bodhisattva archetypes and explore ways to enact principles they represent for the sake of our troubled world. And as Koro mentioned, many of the folks attending this talk today are participating in an extended day of meditation.

[03:21]

And so it's a means to help us gather our minds and settle further into the practice period as well as our practice intentions. And maybe you share with me the experience that these are unsettling times in which it can be difficult to know how to proceed or maintain some measure of equanimity. And if we are to find the wherewithal and the courage to navigate these times, and perhaps to also help others navigate them, it's essential to first calm the activity of our own hearts and minds. In 1243, the great Zen ancestor, Ehi Dogon, wrote in his Shobu Genzer Fasigol Kuge, which translates as Flowers of Emptiness, that the time and place that the blue lotus flowers open and spread are in the midst of fire and in the time of fire.

[04:38]

The time and place that the blue lotus flowers open and spread are in the midst of fire and in the time of fire." Dovan wrote these words at a time in the 13th century Japan marked by political uncertainty, violent weather, and significant cultural change. And here we are now, 777 years later, also amidst a time of political uncertainty, climate crisis, and fast-paced cultural change. And it's undeniable that the time we live in is also a time of fire, both literal fires and figurative fires. We are told by the environmental scientists that many of the recent wildfires that are besieging much of California and other areas of the West Coast are due to climate related changes in our ecosystems.

[05:41]

And even if we don't personally know someone directly affected by these recent wildfires, many of us have been impacted insofar as we've been breathing in their smoke. And I read, what was that, a couple of weeks ago when the fires were kind of at their worst, that at one point the smoke from California had even reached the East Coast. My uncle who lives in Pennsylvania emailed me and saying, we're getting some of your smoke. Thank you very much, right? So the fact that it's kind of spread so far something that we really need to deeply recognize. And as we breathe in the smoke, we've breathed in some particle of something that has burned in the fires. Tragedies for others become intimate to us in this way. We're not separate or removed from impermanence, nor from the suffering of others, including total strangers.

[06:44]

When we understand this, the truth of George Floyd's dying words, I can't breathe, hits us in an even more visceral way. A line from former San Francisco Zen Center abbot Steve Stuckey's death poem comes to mind. Each breath of mine is equally one of yours, my darling. Each breath of mine is equally one of yours, my darling. Each of our individual lungs are connected in this way, by the unseen air moving among us, carrying with it devastation, loss, death, but also heroism, hope, survival, and renewal. we are all essentially sharing the same breath.

[07:52]

And this realization of our one breath, of our one deeply interconnected and interpenetrating life, is the wisdom seed of a bodhisattva's compassion. And then there are the figurative, worldly fires of pandemic, systemic racism, social injustice, sexism, homophobia, economic disparity, and all the conflagrations that could be attributed to a triad of fundamental human dis-eases. Shakyamuni Buddha spoke to the reality and root cause of these conflagrations when he said, all the world is on fire. With what is it on fire? It is on fire with the flames of greed, hate, and delusion.

[08:54]

On fire, I tell you, with birth, aging, and death. With sorrows, lamentations, pains, distresses, and despairs. Given the overwhelming magnitude and relentless, of these literal and figurative fires, what are we to do? At times it almost feels like we wanna collapse somehow in despair or simply run away from it all. And it's understandable that we might think that our practice requires leaving behind or transcending a world that's on fire and all its related difficulties. And yet bodhisattvas willingly choose to do the opposite. They choose to stay. To stay in the middle of the flames and to practice.

[09:58]

Though the teachings of the Buddha are timeless, there's an urgent need at this time to respond right now with wisdom, compassion, and courage. to the myriad flames of fear, anger, division, and degradation erupting on our planets, in our minds, in our bodies, in our hearts? How do we not turn away from this burning world, particularly if we have chosen to take up and embrace the bodhisattva vow? How might we cultivate an upright and steadfast composure, and the capacity for compassion, resilience, and peace in our own hearts and minds. So we are better resource to be of benefit to this fragile, transient world.

[11:10]

Here are two stanzas from the Mary Oliver poem in Blackwater Woods. Every year, everything I have ever 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. 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.

[12:31]

The last end of the poem holds so much power, poignancy and truth. It all comes back to this, to love what is mortal, to love the impermanence of our own bodies, and the bodies of those we love, and that of the entire world. To hold it against your bones, knowing your own life depends on it. Knowing that you are not separate from anything because we, as Thich Nhat Hanh says, enter our. And when the time comes to let it go, to let it go. But do we know the difference between an embracing that is a liberative act of love and an embracing that is an act of grasping which only leads to suffering?

[13:45]

It's a koan that often keeps me company. The following is from a talk by Jakusho Kuang, who is a former abbot of Sonoma Mountain Zen Center, and also in the lineage of Suzuki Roshi. This piece was titled, Active Participation in Loss. Accepting things as they are is a loss. Being in the moment is a loss. What are we losing? our self-centeredness, our self-clinging, our ideas, our conditioning. We are also losing ourselves to the sound of the crickets, to the sound and feeling of the zendo as we sit. And when we know how to do this, to really lose, then we know how to really be alive.

[14:54]

So this knowing how to lose, knowing how to let go is essential to the Bodhisattva's resilience in the face of constant winds of impermanence. Oliver's poem and Quang Roshi's words often come to mind whenever I'm in the middle of a day-long sitting, like today, or a longer sashim of several days up to a week. And particularly when it feels at times like the wilderness of my body-mind is on fire with any number of myriad karmic conflagrations. Sometimes the fire shows up in the form of physical pain, burning knees or burning lower back. Sometimes the fire manifests as difficult or destructive emotions. grief, anger, resentment, and other times as strong desire, even all-consuming lust.

[16:10]

And then there are the fires consisting of relentless, negative, or harmful thoughts, judgments, or criticisms, either directed towards others or directed towards ourselves. Can we let go of each of these fires in our zazen? Each of the fires that appear will be particular to a person, and the condition and environment in which they dwell, and the karmic terrain shaped by their choices. An occasion, if we look closely, we will recognize that underlying all of it is a sense of loss. sense of separation, sense of duality, and not being able to hold onto what we most cherish or love, our self, our ideas, our conditioning.

[17:16]

Or maybe we're desperately wanting to let go of, but not knowing how to. and therefore losing our freedom because we keep clinging. In these moments it seems like nothing can save us. What will you do? The time and place that the blue lotus flowers open and spread are in the midst of fire and in the time of fire. So as you may have figured out by now, another name for a blue lotus is bodhisattva. The blue lotus blooming, representing a bodhisattva awakened, is dependent upon fire in order to flower. A blue lotus, which in Sanskrit, the word is utpala, symbolizes both wisdom, by association with the bodhisattva manjushri, one of the archetypes we'll be studying,

[18:27]

and compassion and aptitude of the Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara, another archetypes we'll be studying. And many of you may be familiar with the image of a lotus in muddy water, which essentially points to the same thing. The lotus, also a symbol of awakening, rises out of muddy water. Muddy water is sometimes considered to be an impure or unfavorable environment. rises out on the muddy water in order to take bloom. So its blooming and beauty depends on the murky water, indeed draws its nourishment from it. Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, which is San Francisco Zen Center's monastery in the Ventana Wilderness, has also recently and once again been threatened by wildfire, this time by the Dolan Fire, which originated in Big Sur. Apparently, the fire is now close to being contained, and so hopefully we're all in the clear, and hopefully all in the clear for the rest of the fall.

[19:36]

We'll see. Of course, fire isn't new to Tassajara. We've had several close encounters with wildfires in just the last 12 years, including with the 2008 Basin Complex fire, which actually encircled and entered the monastery grounds and did some damage to a number of structures. I was just thinking of Shambhala Mountain Center, who also just last week encountered fire and a number of their structures were also damaged. And they're going through the same process of shock and grief. And then how do we rebuild? I happened to be living and serving as director at Tassara at the time of the Basin Complex fire and was one of five monks who met the fire when it arrived. And in the year following the Basin Complex fire, I learned that some trees, flowers, and other plants require periodic wildfires in order to propagate and thrive.

[20:38]

And these plants are often called fire followers, as they require either smoke or fire to stimulate sea germination. So after the 2008 fire, the mountains around Tassajara the next spring and summer were just covered in golden fire poppies and other fire-following plants. Nature is amazing in this way, that is able to use what appears to some as devastation or trauma to be a transforming incident, spurring renewal. So the teaching and image that the blue lotus, or the lotus in muddy water, and the fire-following flowers offer us, is powerfully dynamic. That is fire, there is fire, and there is response. And the two arise profoundly entwined.

[21:40]

Dogon further wrote in Kuge, an 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, meaning the relative, or the heavenly view, meaning the absolute. Unless we are Buddhas and Esses, we don't know that when a fire blooms, the world arises. So in describing the blue lotus blooming in fire, Dogen is reminding us that awakening is always located within fire. The blue lotus associated with practice realization blooms within the fire of samsara. Awakening happens in the midst of greed, hate, and delusion.

[22:51]

in the midst of our difficulties, in the midst of confusion, suffering, distress. Awakening is the very act of rising out of these conditions to see the nature of conditioned existence. So in other words, our suffering is the place of investigation because it is the place of awakening. There is no awakening without delusion. In a recent Buddha Dharma, the practitioners quarterly, in a recent article of Buddha Dharma, the practitioners quarterly, Shinshu Roberts, who I call my Dharma aunt because she's a Dharma sister of my teacher, wrote about suffering that is inherent in the Bodhisattva path. and what Dogen is referring to here as being the blue lotus in the flame.

[23:55]

She writes, logically, we can understand that without suffering, there would be no need for the compassion, wisdom, and skillful means of bodhisattva practice. This is a difficult teaching. It requires us to stay and investigate that which is troublesome and inconvenient in our world. And yet, as Only under these circumstances that our own Buddha nature can bloom and bring forth the full flowering of realization. Over and over again, we renew our bodhisattva vow in the midst of this samsaric life. Who else can enact this practice but each of us, she concludes. When it seems that the whole world is on fire, When we encounter a difficult situation, a relationship, a contrary view, political views, relying on our Bodhisattva vow becomes essential.

[25:01]

But first we need to identify what it is that we most want and most care about. What is it that we most want to realize? Toward what purpose do we most want to dedicate our lives? Another way to say this is, what is the deepest desire at the root of why we practice? For me, this deepest desire was to know and be a compassionate, unwavering presence. The type of unconditional, steadfast, steadfast presence, which I had yearned for, but didn't experience much while I was growing up. And it was this yearning that brought me to Zen Center and the practice of Zazen.

[26:05]

And this is the edge of my practice all the time, how to be a compassionate presence, particularly when I am feeling agitated, and the midst of many karmic fires. It's very, very difficult. Dogen also wrote in Kuge that all sparks and flames exist at the palace, at the place, and at the time that blue lotus flowers open and spread. Beyond the time and place of blue lotus flowers, not a single spark is born, and not a single spark has vivid life. So the spark is necessary. The spark is none other than bodhicitta. When we can identify and nourish the spark, however small, and allow it to illuminate our way and our bodhisattva vow, then we can abide in the heart of our own being

[27:15]

our own Buddha nature, which is ultimately the source of that spark. And we can sit in the heart of our own being and in the midst of any fire and any difficulty with this vow as our protection, our anchor, our fuel for compassionate response. When we realize this, then any difficulties we face are understood through the context of awakening, transformation, and liberation. Now, if you're like me, most of us come to practice thinking, well, get rid of the fires. No more fires. I'm going to be all kind of like above the fire at some point if I practice long enough.

[28:18]

But after we've been practicing for a while, we realize we will never get rid of the fires. The flames of greed, hate, and delusion are endless. The bodhisattva vows we will chant at the end of this talk acknowledge that delusions are inexhaustible. They are inseparable from the experience of what it is to be human in this world. Just like we can't do away with forest fires, a wildfire is a natural and somewhat cyclical event for most forests. The growth and mortality of the forest depends on it. And it's the same for humans and bodhisattvas. Even once we awaken, it doesn't mean that the fire of dukkha will go away permanently. We depend on the experience of suffering to thrive, to grow, to reach beyond our limited views and self-concern, and see our suffering within a greater context, a greater interrelationship and interdependency.

[29:30]

So as Zen practitioners and bodhisattvas in training, We don't run away from fires or from our delusions. We meet them. And we do our best to join others in meeting them. This is the power of Sangha to support us in our practice. When we are awake, our delusions and suffering and fires of life are no longer a problem. They are part of the way things are. We're just sitting with them, sitting in the midst of the fire. We're also knowing that the fire and these problems are a gateway to realization. So each of us must ask ourselves, how then can I respond with equanimity, wisdom, and compassion in every situation, regardless of how hot it is for us?

[30:40]

how deeply uncomfortable it might be. Fire is an element of transformation. If met with courage, fire opens us up. Suffering opens our hearts and allows us to bloom, to feel and experience our deep connection to one another. When we allow ourselves to open within fire, within the pain and suffering and heartbreak of our lives, including the endless experience of loss that we might feel in the face of impermanence, then there is a light that is released. And the nature of our suffering can be illuminated by that light. An innate wisdom is released and allowed to bloom.

[31:42]

When we open within fire, we also begin to recognize the fires that others dwell in and which dwell within them. Both the fire of suffering and the fire of luminous awareness we realize we are no longer alone. So fires, the fires of life in this way, challenge our perception of isolation and separateness. Sometimes they even force us or demand us that we not only recognize and to connect with us, but that we learn to rely on it. We learn to rely on each other. Again, this is the power of Sangha.

[32:42]

Nature can tell us much about how to meet adversity from a place of steadfast presence and a non-wavering stillness. I can tell you from my personal experience during the 2008 fire that spread through Tassahara that the mountains and trees on fire still do Zazen. The mountains and trees stood upright amidst the flames as long as they could. allowing their bodies to be consumed by light, to become light itself. And in the space underground, in the unseen world, I imagine the trees were reaching out through their roots and being touched by and held by other trees who were intertwined and supporting them to bear their distress. Trees need each other in this way.

[33:54]

We need each other in this way. This is how we bloom all of reality into existence. Moment after moment. Together. Only to let it go. Together. And allow it all to return once more to the source. So this is our effort then in zazen, when we're sitting formally, as many of us are today, as well as the zazen, you could say, of our daily activities. It's good to remember that the whole world is our zendo. We're taking the zazen posture on our cushions,

[34:58]

chairs, wheelchairs, even if we're in a lying down position, we are all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas sitting in the midst of flames, the flames that are our lives and our lives together and feeling our profound connectiveness to all being. So we sit opening to the experience as it reveals itself to us, allowing it to be exactly what it is, acknowledging it. The pain, the heartbreak, the sadness, the joy, the desire, the itch, the traffic outside, the smell of smoke. Allowing it all to be and softening into the experience, softening our animal body to honor the truth of its embodiment.

[36:04]

And relaxing the mind to be spacious enough to allow it to arise, whatever it is. To allow the experience to arise, to abide for a period of time and then pass away. To allow whatever discomfort arises to arise, be known and pass. Just the sky registering the moment by moment-changing weather within its vast boundlessness. Our instruction in Zazen is to just sit, to just sit in the middle of whatever is happening and acknowledging it fully as best we can and coming back again and again to what is this? What is the heart of this? What is the luminosity at the heart of this? And so much of our practice is about acknowledging what we're feeling, opening to its presence, seeing what is at the root of it, seeing what belief or karmic contraction in the body is at the base of it.

[37:13]

And trying not to identify with it or make a self out of it. Just let it go. And of course, for many of us, this last aspect of letting go can be the most difficult. But it's essential. Letting go requires of us renunciation and surrender, a surrender of the illusion of being a separate self. It requires of us a profound vulnerability to drop our protections and give ourselves over to authentic, direct presence. Although all things in this world are burning, the Buddha also taught that we have a choice not to add fuel to the fire. That is, not to make the burning personal, not to be identified with the burning.

[38:19]

In each moment, we have a choice to either add fuel in the form of grasping, aversion, and ignorance, or not. So the proposition then becomes one of, can we be in the fire, but not of the fire in this sense? Can we have a calm, clear, cool mind, even though the inferno of life continues to burn around us and in us? When we're able to stay with what is, we're able to remember our profound intimacy and interconnectedness. This is something the Bodhisattva relies on. When we dive to the heart of the flames of this life, we see that the flames are none other than us. We are the fires and the fires are us.

[39:23]

We see that the flames are the luminosity of our own being dancing with the luminosity of the being of others. which is dancing with the luminosity of Alpi. So we'll close there. I hope those of you who are sitting today, this is somewhat encouraging for you. And I could offer you also a traditional Zen encouragement, which is to sit as if your head is on fire. And to those not joining in the one-day sitting today, well, I offer you the same encouragement. It's all on fire.

[40:28]

But while you shouldn't lose sight of the flames, because otherwise you might get burned by distraction, you might consider giving more attention to the luminosity that is our true nature, to that bright awareness which is always present and from which all experience arises. May you find some rest and peace there today. Thank you for your kind attention. May our intention equally extend to every being and place with the true merit of Buddha's way.

[41:32]

Beings are numberless, I vow to save them. Delusions are inexhaustible. I vow to end them. Norma gates are boundless. I vow to enter them. Buddha's way is unsurpassable. I vow to become it. Many thanks to Abbot David and many thanks to the assembly. Just an announcement or two. First, please visit SFZC.org for a full schedule of events.

[42:16]

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