This podcast is offered by the San Francisco Zen Center on the web at sfzc.org. Our public programs are made possible by donations from people like you. Good morning, everyone. Good morning, good friends in the Dharma. What a joy to be back here at Green Gulch once again. not having been here for a little while, because I was away for a bit. So for anyone who may not know me, I'm still trying to figure that out. Who am I? So, but in the meantime, I usually go by Tenzin David Zimmerman, and I currently serve as both the central abbot, San Francisco Zen Center, as well as the abiding abbot at City Center, where we get my temple. Yeah, in San Francisco proper.

[01:00]

So, and I want to thank Eli the Tonto for the invitation to speak today. As you see, we're going to have some show and tell. And I want to thank particularly the Eno Rekha and Nathan and anyone else who helped make it possible to show these slides. Can we go to the very beginning? Ah, yeah. There's a couple more before that. Yeah, let's stop. Let's see if we can keep it there and we'll go from there. So I just returned from two weeks of teaching at Tassajara last weekend. I was leading a Sangha week and a Zen and yoga retreat. Some of the people who were here for the Zen yoga are here now. What a treat to see you again. And for those who don't know, Tassajara is in the Ventana Wilderness. It's about nine miles as the crow flies east of Big Sur.

[02:02]

How many people have been to Tassajara before? Great, quite a few of you, wonderful. So if you haven't been, I hope you have the opportunity. It's a very special place, a very beautiful place. And my recent visit was... Rather poignant for me because it was the first time that I had been back since the Zender fire that happened earlier this year. And I had been there for three months leading the winter practice period of Ongo. And we were in the last week of the Ongo finishing up an eight-day sushin. And the fire broke out around midnight to the second to last day. So I'm not sure how many people have heard about that. I'll say a little bit more. But as you can imagine, it's quite an experience to be woken up in the middle of the night and find yourself suddenly fighting to save your spiritual homestead.

[03:04]

Again, I still see vividly in my mind's eye the zendo being consumed by 20 to 30-foot flames and the concerted effort of the students. who were doing our best to try to put the fire out. Some of them were still in their pajamas as they were doing it. And I can still taste the feeling of helplessness when I realized about 15 minutes in that it was basically a lost cause. The fire had gotten into the attic and we couldn't reach it and it was spreading through the attic and burning down. So it's truly heartbreaking to witness something that you love and cherish turn to ash. and ruin right in front of you. And then to learn later that the apparent cause of the fire was arson only serves to make the destruction all the more grievous. So nevertheless, I am very grateful that no one died or seriously injured.

[04:07]

and that we were able to successfully actually keep the fire from spreading further throughout Tulsa Hara. The Zendo burned, of course, and a little bit of the library burned as well, which I'll say more about. And the practice period students who were there at the time showed tremendous courage and resilience in the face of uncertainty and kind of devastating calamity. And some of them are here today. And I just really want to acknowledge and honor their effort and everything they did to be able to practice with the fire itself, to keep the community safe, to keep themselves safe, and to continue the practice for days and months since the fire has happened. So I'd like to dive deeper by sharing with you a poem by Mary Oliver. you know, often a frequently quoted poet.

[05:09]

And the title of the poem is In Blackwater Woods. And these two stanzas have kept me company in the last several months since the fire. 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. I'll read it again. Every year, everything I have ever learned in my lifetime leads back to this.

[06:16]

The fire is in 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. So even though it was just a building, many of us who had practiced in the Tassajara Zendo, in some cases for decades, mourn the loss of that sacred hall. On my recent visit, the absence at the heart of Tassajara felt like a punch in the gut every time I passed by the empty site where the zendo had stood.

[07:20]

At the same time, its loss serves as yet another insistent Dharma lesson in the nature of impermanence. You know, this is, in fact, the second time that Tazahara lost the zendo to fire. Almost 48 years to the date, in April of 1978, the original zendo, which those who have been to Tazahara, was located in what is now the student eating area, caught fire during a Dharma inquiry ceremony. And everyone made it out safely, but just barely. And they didn't have time to save anything in the zendo. The story has it that some of their eyebrows got singed as they made their way out. Miraculously, a new zendo was erected within three weeks. And this was positioned in the upper garden. At the time, they had vegetable gardens where the zendo was located, the new one.

[08:22]

And this happened during the spring work period, and it was considered to be a temporary zendo. The idea is they were going to rebuild the Zendo back to its original site where the student eating area is. But that never happened because people realized that the new Zendo actually was in a better location and worked better for everyone. So, you know, we call it temporary, but isn't everything impermanent and hence temporary? We could say this one is temporary, this temporary being. So while I'm heartbroken by the destruction of the zendo and the loss of a number of ritual objects and instructions, I feel particularly pain about the damage to the main altarpiece, which was a approximately 1,800-year-old Gandharan stone Buddha sitting in meditation. Another student and I had actually gone into the zendo and were able to retrieve the Buddha

[09:28]

as sitting on a chair, kind of like that, what's up there, and the altar and other items. And we had briefly staged them in front of the library, which is about 20, 25 feet away, with the idea that once we got everything out, we could go and move everything further away from the zendo. Unfortunately, that did not happen. We didn't have enough time. to retrieve things because the fire spread quickly to the library in the exact spot where the Buddha was resting. And the other items were waiting for retrieval. It was as if the fire was actually seeking out the Buddha. So we save the Buddha only to lose the Buddha. So anicca, the Pali word, is the Buddhist doctrine of impermanence, the fundamental truth that all conditioned things, material, mental, and experiential, are in a constant state of flux and arising and biting for a period of time and passing away.

[10:44]

And anicca is the first of the three marks of existence, along with dukkha, suffering, disease, dissatisfaction, This is sometimes translated in the nata, non-self. So the fire of impermanence runs through all things and burns throughout our lives. We are born, live, and die by the grace of impermanence. You know, it's tiring sometimes to consider just how tremendous is our capacity to ignore or deny the truth. that nothing lasts, at least until it literally burns the house down. And even then, we quickly go back to entertaining the idea that that was somehow a fluke, and it's unlikely to happen again, at least not to the things that we don't want to change or lose. And as you all know, being human is hard, or at least it is for me.

[11:52]

I don't know about the rest of you. And the same thing that makes it great makes it also hard, like love and loss. There's a line from a Louise Gluck poem, the poem is titled From the Japanese, that asks, why love what you will lose? Why love what you will lose? And then the next line deepens the question into a koan of sorts. What else is there to love? What else is there to love? So loss is an unavoidable part of being human and of living and as such should be fully felt rather than avoided. Fully feel and embrace the highs of love and the lows of loss. At the same time, we must also be willing to let go of all conditioned phenomena.

[12:58]

Buddhism teaches that suffering arises from clinging, from grasping at any experience whatsoever in order to make it somehow last. So our liberation is commensurate with ability to release and let go of every object every being, every experience, no matter how beautiful and precious it is to us. As Mary Oliver reminds us in the poem that I read earlier, the only true salvation in the face of impermanence is to accept its truth and surrender our attachments even to that which we most love. To live in this world, you must be able to do three things, Oliver writes, 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.

[14:07]

So it requires courage and actually audacity to love in the face of certain loss. whether it's another human being that we love, maybe a pet, a special object, a place, even this planet. We need to be ready to mourn it amidst impermanence and relentless change. If anything, our grief is the final confirmation of the great depth of our love. This knowing how to love and let go Knowing how to lose is essential to cultivating resilience in face of the constant winds of impermanence. Can we learn to embrace impermanence with the presence of mind, with patience and compassion? I have found that through experience that Zen can help us move through loss and grief, accepting them as a transformation

[15:18]

transformative process that reveals the interconnectedness, the intimacy of all things. So I had mentioned earlier, I was particularly pained by the loss of the 1800-year-old Gandharan Buddha statue. And so I want to show you these slides on the, what side is that? The far right? My dyslexia is kicking in. Over that side is the original statue as it was in the old Zendo. And then that Zendo burned, and they took a photo of the Buddha in the ashes of the 1978 fire. It apparently had fallen backwards during the fire and shattered. And then the next photo, the next slide. So... It was painstakingly restored by someone from the Duyong slash Asian Art Museum.

[16:23]

They were together at the time. It took them two years to restore the Buddha. And this is what you see here, the restored Buddha. It was almost impossible to tell that anything had happened to it that had been shattered or they hadn't done any work. Some people say the jaw was, there was something about the jaw, the chin, that was just a little off. Otherwise, I looked many times to try to find the lines. Where did it piece it back together? And so that's the image on the recent Zendo altar and on the throne with Manjushri there. And then the next image, the Zendo on fire. So the height of the Zendo burning, this is taken from the courtyard. That image here on this side and the top is where the fire was started. There was a cushion rack outside the Zendo and somehow the person who did it started that area on fire and it went quickly up into the attic.

[17:26]

And then basically the ruins, the remains of the ruins, it took the firefighters, the local volunteers about 45, 50 minutes to make it to Tassajara. By then, the zendo was gone, and we were kind of just trying to keep things from spreading. And then the next slide, the ruins of the zendo. So you'll see on that side, just the burnt parts. Over here, there was a densho bell. You've heard the bansho bell out here calling. So we have something similar that was hanging on the Ngawa, Tassajara, and the bell fell, and... down, and miraculously it still plays. It burned, but it still plays. And then someone's zagu, their bowing mat, one of the priests, had her items stored next to the cushion rack, and people were throwing some of the rakasus and okases away from the zendo as it was burning.

[18:32]

And we found several of them later, and this was one half burnt. And the next photo. So this one is of the same Buddha amidst the ashes of the recent fire. And I feel particularly poignant. The image of the stone stash is shattered and crumpled in the ashes here. And as you can see, its head is detached from the body. So it fell forward and its head is detached laying over there. But its face, if you show the next photo, its face in the ashes was serenely kind of looking upward, still radiating equanimity despite destruction around it and its own shattered body. And then this slide, we had a memorial for the Zendo a few days afterwards on the front lawn. And we included the head of the Gandharan Buddha to...

[19:36]

to join us. So I'm currently exploring with the Asian Art Museum whether it might be possible to restore the Buddha again. At this moment, it's laying in my office, spread out in pieces. It's a little bit like a jigsaw puzzle. We're trying to figure out what pieces do we have and whether or not we have enough to reconstruct it and what state it might be in. So it may take a little while to discern. So the Shattered Buddha statue evokes for me the story of Avalokiteshvara. Avalokiteshvara is the Mahayana Buddhist bodhisattva who embodies infinite compassion and vows to postpone Buddhahood until all beings have been liberated from suffering. So according to the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, Avalokiteshvara also vowed that should he ever become disheartened, in saving sentient beings.

[20:38]

May his body shatter into a thousand pieces. Sometimes the suffering of the world is too much. It's too much to bear. And not seeing significant change, we ourselves might lose hope. Our bodhisattva vow to save the world might begin to waver. This is what happened to Avalokiteshvara. Legend tells that upon seeing the immensity of the world's misery, he momentarily lost faith, and as a result, his body shattered in despair. However, Avalokiteshvara's agony and shattering was witnessed by his teacher, Amitabha Buddha, who lovingly reconstructs him, piecing him together anew, although now with 11 heads, so that he can better observe the suffering of beings in all directions.

[21:42]

Can you show the next slide, please? There you see 11 heads looking out in all directions to witness all beings. And Abhi Taba also gave Avakadishvara a thousand hands. And on each hand, there was an eye that was embedded, as well as a particular tool or utensil. And so these thousand hands and eyes and tools represent Avalokiteshvara's enhanced practice, its enhanced capacity to compassionately assist all beings through skillful means, upaya, whatever means would be effective. Now it's interesting to note that when Buddhism entered China from India, Avalokiteshvara underwent a gender transformation. evolving into the female form of Kuan Yin. Likely because the Bodhisattva's qualities of compassion and mercy are considered feminine in East Asian culture.

[22:44]

So we had a wooden statue of Kuan Yin on the Tassahara altar, which also went through the fire. You show the next slide. But it miraculously survived. It had also been stored next to the Zendo near the stone Buddha. And as you can see, one half of her body burned, but the other half remains untouched. So this picture I took in front of the runes of the old Zendo. And to my mind, it illustrates how an embodiment of compassion, Kuan Yin directly experiences the world's suffering, but without succumbing to it. She feels the pain. She goes into the fire. with suffering beings, and yet some part of her remains undestroyed, untouched. This statue is now on the new altar in the new temporary zendo, which is the retreat hall at Tassajara now, the larger one.

[23:52]

So we go back and forth. It's zendo in the morning, sometimes a yoga space in the midday, and then it turns back into a zendo in the evening. So she's there reminding us. of our vow to be with all beings in their suffering. So I find Avalkitashvara's story an inspiring allegory for facing life's greatest challenges, including facing loss, despair, or whatever fires we may encounter, whether figurative or literal, and which may break or shatter our hearts, our minds, our bodies. It reminds me that brokenness, when faced rather than turned away from, can become a source of healing and compassion and actually a way forward. So the story of Avokiteshfar invites us to consider what we do when we ourselves break, when our tender human hearts and minds are shattered by some significant tragedy,

[25:01]

a great cruelty, violence or injustice, or by simply witnessing the immensity of suffering and despair in the world. I confess that I feel right now a lot of heartbreak and powerlessness at times whenever I hear about the harms and the injustices that are being experienced by so many innocent people in the world, people who have done nothing wrong. or I hear about the crimes that are being committed by various social and political leaders, some with seemingly little conscience or regret. Each of us can likely recall moments or circumstances in our lives when we felt broken or shattered, whether due to a significant loss or to something that threatened or violated our sins of personal safety, integrity, or even sanity maybe there have been moments when your own sense of self or identity cracked or splintered leaving you uncertain about who you truly are what it is that gives you meaning and what guides your choices in life i expect that many of you have encountered such moments

[26:26]

or perhaps have encountered others who have in the past or are currently experiencing a traumatic break in some form. As I mentioned earlier, the Monterey County Sheriff's Office has thus determined so far that the cause of the Zenda fire was arson. And it was committed apparently by a woman who was known to Tassajara, just a little bit, and some other Buddhist communities, but was not a resident or a Sangha member. So I won't go into further details about this alleged arson, arsonist, other than to say that some have questioned her state of mind. I think it's a fair question to ask. What state of mind must one have to commit such an act of violence and destruction? Surely not a grounded, clear seeing, or peaceful one. Perhaps the alleged arsonist burned down a place of peace, because she couldn't find peace or belonging within.

[27:31]

But isn't that the root of all acts of harm? The police have called the arson a targeted hate crime, although to my way of thinking, it was more an act of delusion. Could we say that any act of hate is an act of delusion? because hate requires that we see ourselves and others as somehow separate. In fact, Buddhism teaches that we all live to varying degrees in a state of delusion. And most of the time, largely because of our perceptions of reality, are inevitably distorted, not only by the three poisons of greed, hate, and delusion, but also by our egos, our karmic conditioning, and the tenacious belief that we exist as separate entities.

[28:32]

While it's not an easy teaching to accept, at a certain level, Zen practice is meant to undermine our illusions and our false sense of security, which often keep us from recognizing the world as it is and the myriad causes and conditions that have made it so. Practice also serves to deconstruct or even shatter our identities, our egos, as well as our belief in or sense of being a separate self. In other words, Zen advocates allowing yourself to break, allowing your ego to shatter. And in that shattering, realizing you were never separate from others or the world in the first place. This is the teaching of anatta, of non-self, or rather, there is no separate self.

[29:42]

Rather, we are profoundly connected and intimate. When your heart breaks, my heart breaks. When you suffer, I suffer. Recognizing our deep interconnectedness is itself the very source of compassion. So Avalokiteshvar's heartbreak is not a weakness, nor is it a punishment. Rather, it originates from his resolve. We can see it as a testament to his love and his vows. Avalokiteshvara's heart and body break because he loves. And he loves deeply. And this is the way it is for all bodhisattvas. They deeply love all sentient beings, even those who may try to harm them and truly want them to be free of suffering.

[30:50]

Avalokiteshvara Shara doesn't turn away from the pain he feels at witnessing suffering or loss or from hatred and delusion. Instead, he allows himself to experience the ache and grief surrounding his heartbreak and loss. Unashamed, his heart cries out for relief. We, too, need not repress our hurt nor pretend it doesn't matter. Even bodhisattvas grieve and need time to heal. They also need at times to ask for help, whether to hold their despair or to heal. They intentionally pause and grieve, perhaps even weep and wail. And it took me about a week after the fire. We were in the midst of a closing ceremony and I was... offering a closing statement when finally the tears came.

[31:54]

Then, in that moment, I could feel it at a deep level, even now. All this is part and parcel to a process of true healing. And then, eventually, when their time has come and they have gathered themselves, Bodhisattvas rise again to continue their sacred work of saving all beings. In this way, they become resilient, more able to meet whatever challenging circumstances they encounter with a measure of equanimity, wisdom, and even faith. Faith that all will be fundamentally okay. There is a Zen koan that is offered in the recorded sayings of Zen Master Joshu, as well as in the Bluecliffe record, that has Master Joshu entering the Dharma Hall and instructing the assembly of monks, saying, Metal Buddhas can't pass through a furnace.

[33:08]

Wood Buddhas can't pass through fire. Mud Buddhas can't pass through water. The true Buddha sits within you. And we might add that stone Buddhas also can't pass through fire, at least not without some damage. So there is the relative conditional form of a Buddha that is impermanent, that can break, can be shattered and pass away. And at the same time, there is the ultimate unconditioned form of the Buddha. what's known as the eternal Buddha, the indestructible Buddha, the true Buddha. What is the Buddha that doesn't break? Who is this Buddha who can't be shattered regardless of the circumstances they find themselves in? What is an indestructible Buddha or Bodhisattva?

[34:12]

And what is the true Buddha that sits within you? We can find one answer to this question in Vimalakirti's sutra where Buddha himself delivers what is known as the sermon on the destructible and the indestructible. So in the text there are a number of bodhisattvas and they meet with the Buddha and they admit to the Buddha having negative thoughts and views about this Saha world, meaning this world, our world of human suffering. But upon seeing how other Buddhas employ wisdom and compassion and skillful means, regardless of the world they find themselves in, these disparaging Buddhas soon realize that they perhaps have been hasty in their judgment. So then the Buddha explains to them how Bodhisattvas can live fully in the worlds of suffering and death without suffering themselves.

[35:14]

I want to share with you a few passages from this sermon. The Buddha says there is a teaching, a liberation, to be learned by the bodhisattvas called the liberation from the destructible and the indestructible. This teaching refers to compounded things, that is, to all phenomena of the physical and mental realms as they come to be and cease to be unendingly. So in other words, this is conditioned, dependently arisen phenomena. Hence, they are called destructible. The Bodhisattva does not give rise to aversion to this world. In addition, there is the indestructible, which is unborn, uncreated, and unproduced. In other words, unconditioned. The Bodhisattva does not seek to abide in this realm either. How do we acquire liberation? Inquired one of the Bodhisattvas, meaning how do we acquire liberation from both the destructible,

[36:19]

and the indestructible. And as the Bodhisattva was asking this question, apparently his body was changing hue a few times as he was mirroring his wonderment and zeal to be in front of the Buddha. So the Buddha replies, offering first a number of approaches to acquiring liberation from the destructible, from the conditioned phenomenon. He says, by not losing love and compassion for compounded things. by recalling often the great vow to Buddhahood, by never tiring of helping all beings, by attaining Samadhi, that is, the mind of oneness or non-duality, by never being satisfied with one's attainments, but pushing further in development, by avoiding laziness, by seeing and honoring the Buddhas of the Ten Directions, by all the 10,000 practices of the Mahayana.

[37:20]

This is how we do not shun the compounded things, thus attaining one part of liberation from the destructible. So that's quite a powerful list of practices for living in the relative world, starting with cultivating love and compassion for all beings, including those we will lose, and even those who might wish to harm us. The Buddha encourages us to remember our Bodhisattva vows to save all beings. Leave no one out. He also counsels us not to let ourselves become lazy or discouraged, but to be untiring in our efforts to maintain mindfulness and to awaken as Buddhas. as well to embrace the impermanence of all conditioned beings and phenomena. So these are the practices for acquiring liberation from the conditioned, compounded existence, which can be destroyed.

[38:28]

Then the Bodhisattva asked the Buddha, what is the other part? In other words, what are the practices for being liberated from the indestructible, from emptiness itself? And the Buddha replied, why, it is not to rest in the indestructible, but to attain the middle way between living in the presence of emptiness without fully entering it. It is to carry within the spirit of solitude, but not to abandon the marketplace and live on a mountain peak. It is to live without desire to attain, but not to give up on all sentient beings. It is to cultivate the heart that doesn't settle anywhere, but to be constant in walking the path of the Bodhisattva. Thus, the Bodhisattva attains this marvelous liberation. So the Buddha is encouraging us to live what we might call the middle way, which fully entails seeing the empty, impermanent nature of all phenomena, but without succumbing to it.

[39:37]

So he's asking us, inviting us to live a solitary, a life of solitary integrity, but without separating ourselves from others. In other words, don't go off to a cave somewhere by yourself. Zen really emphasizes practicing with others. And also not to give up on people, but to cultivate a boundless heart. Always doing our best to live in harmony in accord with the Bodhisattva way. So this section, this particular writing, concludes by noting that upon receiving this teaching from the Buddha, the bodhisattvas were beside themselves with joy. And suddenly they just spontaneously arose into the heavens and their joy perfumed the entire universe. They were so elated by this particular teaching. So the indestructible Buddha is our true self. our true nature. The destructible Buddha is also an aspect of the self.

[40:42]

So we need to learn to live with the presence and ease in both of these expressions of our Buddha nature, the relative conditional and the ultimate unconditioned aspects, which includes both the reality of impermanence and the reality of that which is beyond impermanence. I appreciate that the Buddha reminds us not to give up or lose love or compassion for the compounded things. As is often the case, it all comes back to love, doesn't it? A definition of love that has deeply resonated with me over the years is that love is the knowing of our shared being. Love is the Our Buddha, both whole and shattered. We are also the arsonist, deluded, feeling separate, not at peace.

[41:46]

We are the monks fighting fire, and we are the fire itself. In the midst of it all, our shared being, our Buddha nature, is ever-present, sitting upright in the midst of the flames of impermanence, unmoving and but not unmoved. The scope of the Bodhisattva's vow to save all beings and never lose hope, even in the face of impermanence and loss, is immense. When a Bodhisattva looks out upon the world of samsara, they realize that there will never be an end to samsara, to suffering. It will never be empty. This is a quote from Shantideva. and yet renewed and cleared-eyed about that fact, about that reality, they make a vow, for as long as space remains, for as long as sentient beings remain, may I too remain, to dispel the suffering of the world.

[42:55]

I don't know whether we'll be able to restore the Gandharan Buddha a second time, which was once shattered in fire and restored, again shattered. Maybe it's time to let it go, to let it go the way of all conditioned things. All the same, I am still deeply committed to continuing to meet the world's conflagrations as best I can for the sake and love of all sentient beings. Over my 35 years of Zen practice, I found that it's the depth of the vow that counts and which keeps one going, not whether we are successful in saving each and every Buddha. Just make your best effort and let the great mystery unfold from there. Thank you very much for your kind attention, patience, and presence.

[44:00]

And now I understand the forum here is that we have time for questions. And I don't know if there's a clock around here. Maybe someone can give me a time. Oh, so we have about 10 minutes or so. So there's a microphone. So if you have a question or if you wanna share something yourself, I don't have any answers. Sorry, I'm just gonna tell you that in advance. So share what you would like to share, express whatever. If you have a question, I'll respond. Good morning. Good morning, and thank you for that wonderful talk. You mentioned that we ultimately have to let go of our relationships and loved ones and so forth. And there's a time to let go and so forth. So that kind of comes back to, is it better to have fewer? Because we have fewer to let go of?

[45:06]

No. Love everyone and everything as much as you can. But when you meet them for the first time, for the tenth time, for the hundredth time, you know, it's like drinking from this teacup. Know that it's already broken. This is precious because it's impermanent. Everyone you meet is precious. because they are impermanent. Some aspect of their conditionality. This form is impermanent. I kind of use, I like the analogy, the entire world, entire universe is an ocean of being. And everything that appears in this universe is just a wave on the ocean. But it's still, the wave is still water. It's still Buddha nature. It's just for a period of time taking the shape of a wave itself. That is you. That is me. That's this building. That's a Buddha. It abides for a period of time, and then the causes and conditions for it pass away. So love what there is to love in this moment.

[46:10]

Appreciate it. Feel its preciousness. Every time you say goodbye to someone you love and care about, it may be the last time you see them. So with that in mind, how are you going to meet them and say goodbye to them. Keeping that close helps us to actually be more present with the people that we are with in the moment. We don't get lost in the little minute grievances and other matters. We stay close to love in that moment. So love everything and knowing that its shape as a wave will someday be gone. But the foundational aspect, our Buddha nature, is always there. It's what we share. It can never be destroyed. So see the Buddha within each person. See the Buddha within each person.

[47:12]

Connect to that when you see someone. Speak to and from that place within you and meet that place within them. Thank you. Thank you. Good morning. Good morning. Could you please speak to the relationship between compassion and discernment? Because I find that sometimes I get pulled off my axis from one to the other, and I'd love to learn how to practice to hold them both. Compassion, the Latin for means with feeling, with emotion. And... What Buddhism is encouraging is compassion that is combined with wisdom, which is that discernment you're talking about.

[48:15]

And love, actually, sometimes we fall into, help me, Eli, with this idiot compassion. We're like, whatever you want, you can do whatever you want. I love you, and it's okay, and I have sympathy for you. But that's not real compassion. It's not clear-seeing compassion. Real compassion honors boundaries. healthy boundaries, right? It honors boundaries that say what is wholesome and beneficial and non-harming to do and not to engage in things that are unwholesome or harming, right? So we have to use our discernment, is what I'm about to say or do in any way coming from a sense of a separate self or harming? Or is it coming from a sense of our shared being, from love, from connectedness? So I'm sure you have said to your wonderful child, I assume, to your child, right, when they want maybe ice cream or candy before dinner, and you say, no, dear, we're going to have dinner first.

[49:18]

And you're doing that because you love them, because you know it's better for them. And they may get very upset with you, very angry, have a little temper tantrum. You don't do that, I'm sure. That never happens, right? But it's okay. You still love them, even though they're having their meltdown, because you know true compassion is to honor the thing that is best in terms of their well-being, right? And in time, they too forget about it or realize, right? So yeah, the knowing, and this goes back to we have to love ourselves and care for ourselves and know what a healthy boundary is, relationship to others. and do the same, you know. I see another hand in the back, Rika. I'm sure we're at in time. Good morning. Yeah, you spoke a lot about, you know, internalizing letting go and understanding impermanence.

[50:22]

As someone who's not particularly spiritual, sometimes there's always felt like a dissonance to me between letting go and impermanence and, you know, apathy or caring about the suffering of the world or willing yourself into action. So how do you simultaneously understand that suffering itself is impermanent or that you should be able to let go and still not be apathetic to the suffering around you? Yeah, apathy is like the near enemy of equanimity, I think it is. And so this idea that you can feel deeply and care deeply, right? But you don't have to identify with the person in front of you or what's happening, right? So we don't come from a sense of a separate self. We come from a sense of connectedness. And so finding our equanimity, our balance, in the midst of whatever we might be feeling is very important.

[51:29]

Equanimity, what it does is it widens the aperture of awareness. And it makes for a wide heart. So everything can be seen with equal regard and included. So apathy means I don't care. It leaves something out. Equanimity requires that we include everything. And we see the causes and additions for how it has arisen. We might have an understanding of when this When this situation happens, this is the impact, and this is how people respond. So we can have compassion that people are responding to their circumstances in a certain way, right? But at the same time, we can discern what is a skillful means here for me to engage. And we all have to discern. You know, we get so... Again, I discern by... I try not to read too much newspaper or see the news. Because when my... Sorry, start... reading the newspaper and I start spinning up here and I have unwholesome thoughts, you know, about people I'm reading about and so on.

[52:36]

I'm like, I'm losing my equanimity. I don't want to give that away. So I'm going to step back from this because I know I need a little bit of space. Maybe I can do some meta practice. Maybe there's something concrete I can do. I can write to somebody and say, hey, please be aware. I can vote. There's things I can do where I still stay engaged and I don't give up. Hopelessness is kind of death, right? Don't give up. Even if you make one little step, one little effort, Even if it's something like, you know, living in San Francisco, I often walk through the streets. I see so many people who are unhoused in great degree of suffering, you know, drug addiction and other things. I might not in the moment be able to do anything, but I can send them metta. I can send them hello. I don't have to be apathetic and ignore them. I see them. I acknowledge them. I send them loving kindness in some way.

[53:40]

So I'm including, as best I can, their truth, their presence in my world, even if I feel I can't in the moment do something to change the entire system that causes these conditions. Is that helpful? Okay, thank you. Eli, where are we at? Okay, I'm invited for someone to offer a last sharing of questions. Anything? Online? Online? Nope. Okay. Well, in that case, maybe it's time for tea and cookies. What do you think? You've been sitting here for a while. I'm going to have compassion for all of you and this now. So thank you again. It's been a joy to be with all of you. Please take good care of yourselves. And in doing so, you can also take good care of the world.

[54:43]

Thank you. Thank you for listening to this podcast offered by the San Francisco Zen Center. Our programs are made possible by the donations we receive. Please help us to continue to realize and actualize the practice of giving by offering your financial support. and click giving. May we fully enjoy the Dharma.

[55:15]

@Transcribed_UNK
@Text_v005
@Score_96.6