mood report. It looks like it's much calmer and safer in Pennsylvania and the media seems to be Trying to not make such an issue of it now. But I guess the danger isn't over, but the bubble has reduced quite a bit, and now they're left with 250,000 gallons of radioactive water from condensed steam sloshing around in the building to figure out what to do with. That's about twice our swimming pool 100 feet deep, which I don't know where they'll decide to dump that. And about maybe, now people estimate 200,000 people have left the area. And someone else estimates that they're getting about

[01:21]

every hour, within a ten mile radius, every hour you get your three years maximum dose of radiation. So now we'll start, if the anti-nuclear people are smart, and they're probably a lot smarter than the people running the nuclear industry, though they're fighting the weight of nine to five, now start all the lawsuits. The lawsuits to date have made nuclear energy almost too expensive to do, except for the government's support of it. And this incident has given Governor Brown an excuse to try to close the plant near Sacramento and try to stop opening some other plant, which is a Diablo, I guess, which is going to open. Supposed to. Nuclear power, of course, is not just dangerous now and over a long period of time itself, but also

[02:50]

has become the symbol for whether we will, you know, whether we want our popular music and reading late at night by electricity and so forth over, whether we want that more than or we want that enough to put up with sitting next to a time bomb. Some people can give it up pretty easily. Gary Snyder, living up in the Sierra, can give up. He now has gasoline engine on his He used to pump it by hand, but I think he could go back to pumping it by hand. Or Edward, you know, Abdessin, a painter, he's always lived where he can walk to what he needs, and if he needs an excursion he goes by bicycle. He's never learned how to drive.

[04:14]

You can easily give up. And most of us, I think, can easily give up. Or can change centuries, or change lifestyles. Going back to Tosu or Tozu, you know, you can, as I said, although the statement is complete in language, you are just here and nowhere else. It is certainly true. You can't deny it.

[05:27]

It's an obvious, redundant statement. You are just here and nowhere else. But it's only true in language. It's not actually true of you. I don't know why, it makes me think of a story, isn't it? Solomon, who two women were arguing over whose baby it was, and Solomon said, well, I'll cut the baby in half and you can each have half. And one woman said, oh, no, then let the other have it. I'd rather have the baby belong to itself and not be cut in half. So, of course, Solomon thought, if she isn't the mother, she's certainly more sensible So he gave the baby to that woman. So I'm emphasising, you know, imageless practice in this session. And I would suggest you try to go around without your eyes open.

[06:52]

Not completely, but when you're doing kinhin, some of you are doing kinhin out on the walkway there, on the boardwalk, are ambling about and looking around and so forth. But some of you should be walking with your hands in seiza, turned up a little, and not down here, and your tummy should be leading you. and your posture should be like sitting, and your eyes just feeling the outside, but not looking around. Maybe when you go to your cabin, you can dress or get ready for bed in the dark. If you can't or you have children or something, you can do whatever you want, but feeling of being in the dark,

[07:55]

by your eyes, you know, maybe cutting out images. You want to find in practice some constant, gapless constant. Language sews over, covers over the gaps. You know, Einstein's thinking is pretty simple. He wasn't good, as you know, at mathematics, but he was quite good at thinking. And what he thought was a very simple observation, but he thought it without gaps, or as much as possible. So in Zen, instead of turning a line into a whole landscape. Hakun Zenji often just painted a straight line, a circle, one word, most drawing.

[09:17]

I notice people drawing. Mostly they draw a bunch of concepts. They figure out what a nose is or a leaf is, how to make it look. And then they have an inventory of shapes they put together. And they don't really look at the tree. To look, to paint or draw the sheen of leaves, very difficult. And most of us, as always being pointed out, keep seeing the concepts of our language and culture. And you need to find some entry other than those concepts and language. And Suzuki Roshi emphasized in a lecture, constant,

[10:21]

in practice, particularly he was talking about... This is back in 19... I don't know, late 60s. Probably he was talking about Ed Brown's being Tenzo and how the Tenzo often gets angry. Ed Brown was quite a dramatic Tenzo. Now he's much calmer than he was. So Tsukiyoshi talked about gardeners one night and another night, the cook. So he told several stories about cooks. You know, the most famous one is about the snake's head. You know that story? Snake got... I don't know how, but anyway, snake's head got into the soup, into the miso soup. And when the abbot got the soup, there was a snake's head. So he called the tenzo to his room and said, what is this? Tenzo took it. I can't see it. What is it? Please show it to me. So he took it. Oh, it's head of gobu. And he ate it. Anyway, it's a well-known story. What could the teacher say?

[11:50]

It's just like Tosu hitting the monk. May I call you an ass? He's not punishing him or anything, just... just imageless practice. No mood. Another story about the cook is As Sugiyoshi told us. In some temple, I forget the name, Ishii. Ishii. Ishii, I forget his name anyway. About 150 years ago, he lived in Japan. And his temple was very poor.

[12:57]

And the monks didn't leave, though, but even though there was not enough to eat, to the extent that many of the monks would be sick quite often. But at those times in Japan it was pretty difficult, and this mountain temple had very little to eat. But they stayed with the teacher, and the cook did the best he could. But then they began to notice that the cook was Several of the monks noticed that the cook was cooking something late at night in his room. So they got rather worried. Maybe, what is he doing? So they went to the teacher and they said, he is cooking something late at night. Maybe they are implying he was saving some special food for himself, making sure he ate well. And the teacher didn't. He said, No, don't be silly. Don't mistrust him. But quite often students saw him, Tenzo, cooking at night after the goodnight bell.

[14:26]

So they had a meeting and talked about it. So they went to the... He's not supposed to be up anyway, you know. So they went to the teacher again. We know he's cooking something. We see it. So he decided he would investigate himself. So that night he went to the cook's room, and yes, there he was cooking something. So he came in and said, what are you cooking? Oh, I'm cooking something, but nothing special. And so he said, well, let me try it. No, no, it's not for you, he said. It's just for me. So he became a little annoyed. He said, let me taste it. And, of course, it tasted... Tsukiyoshi said it tasted nasty. It turns out there was so little food to go around, the cook was not eating during the day, giving his portion to the other monks, of course, being good bodhisattva.

[15:46]

And at night, he was cooking up the spoiled things and leftovers for himself to eat that he wouldn't serve to others. So his teacher didn't know what to say. But the next morning, he came to the cook's room and bowed to him and apologized for not trusting him. and coming to investigate. This kind of practice, even though it makes rather a good story, it is the way we should practice. And bodhisattva practice, you know, the practice of helping others, it's kind of like alchemical craftsman-like practice, but instead of, you know, doing some pottery or chemical mixing, your practice, what you do affects you. And so your practice is this invisible or secret practice with others to help others.

[17:07]

And that means, you know, to keep trusting people. To also, more actively, to... We have some... What? Some treasure or secret or feeling about the way we could be or the way life could be. And we, Bodhisattva practice, is to entrust that to someone. Keep entrusting that to someone without thinking they're going to hurt you, without being angry or suspicious or trying to find out what's wrong with someone, to prove to yourself that, yes, you are right, the world is lousy. If you're always trying to prove to yourself that you are right and the world is lousy, you won't find this constant practice where there are no gaps. So to practice, to attain enlightenment is also practice with some gap. Just if you're cooking, you cook. If you're gardening, you're gardening. If you're taking a hot bath, you enjoy a hot bath. That's all. To be just what you're doing.

[18:41]

to make that effort. Eventually you enter a stream of your existence that has no gaps. Another story Suzuki Roshi told, it's rather famous in Japan, is about, I believe his name was Genro Roshi, who, you know, tabi, those little rabbit's feet you wear in Japan, In Japan, they're actually shoes, not socks, because you wear gaita or some gaita-like shoe, and the tabi together make one shoe. And you're not dressed up, you're not properly dressed if you're just wearing plain gaita. Maybe a college student wears plain gaita. Anyway, this Gengo Roshi, he also lived about the same time as that cook, about 150 years ago or so. He's quite famous for wearing one pair of tabi for 30 years. And the pair of tabi still exists.

[20:06]

It has many patches, many patches on top of it, like some people's jeans. But it's a symbol of a great Zen master in Japan, you know, not some philosophical investigations or treatise. Just this pair of tabi he wore thirty years, you know. Famous Zen master's work. This is real constant practice, to take care of something. You know, it's opposite of nuclear reactor or pesticides. Just to take care of something, to find some constant. Chin Yu, you know, was also a famous Zen master, and he He was disciple of Baso Matsu. And when it came time to eat, he was not Tenzo but Abbot, but when it came time to eat, he would get a bucket of rice and go out and dance in front of Zenda. Come, Bodhisattvas, come and eat. He would dance every meal, for some reason. And people thought it was very peculiar.

[21:34]

Wouldn't you like it if I did that? Every meal I'd be dancing around the boardwalk with him. He was laughing, you know. Every meal. But this was his constant practice. We don't teach by some pattern or some regulated method. Just something to get you to find out your constant existence at every altitude. You know, if you... maybe if... In a poem, images or words, as I said, I think, have some space between each one. Maybe the space is quite close, so you have some feeling of describing some consistent event, you know, or feeling. But images could be very separated. Like cubism, breaking up three-dimensional perspective. You could make images very separate. Sheen of

[23:01]

leaf and maybe some twigs. Whatever. At 1500 feet, plants are the same. Even though the valley may be way below and the ground is constant this way, There's another constant this way. At 1,500 feet, same plants. At 3,000 feet, same plants. And in our life, it's not a simple matter of, I don't know, some consistency of language or some particular body, but this consistency goes every direction. But you can't find that constant. if you're angry or suspicious or distracted, you need to find some way physically to become consistent or constant. So I'm emphasizing this sasheen, imageless practice. Sukhirshi said, you know, white cloud, if out of calm white cloud lightning came, it would be

[24:34]

Very strange. So out of your... He said very strongly, you should not get angry. If you are... Once you're angry, it's too late. You just, you know, like mindfulness practice, observe the anger. But if you find this practice, he said, of constant, no gap, you want to become angry. Anger is such a strange emotion, you know, once you find this constant reach this constant stream of your existence, which then covers everything.

[25:36]

So in zazen and kinhin and meals, actually try to have the same feeling, as if you're just continuing zazen, something that started in zazen, just continue it, you know, don't let too many distractions come in, just continue it in kinhin, continue it in mealtime. See if you can find this constant, patient place. vigorous place. In your feet and organs and fingers and mind and attention, through and through, this kind of practical effort is our practice, not 60 days at Tassajara or 90 days at Tassajara or some measure. Réun tried for 30 years to find someone to help him, to find some

[27:43]

sword of enlightenment. For 30 years he tried to find someone to help him. But Daiye, his teacher, wouldn't help him. So finally he entered his constant stream of existence, which is always with us, never away from us. But, you know, plants can... maybe plants are very intelligent, but they can only go one direction. And animals don't have the same kind of complex freedom we have. But that complex freedom, you know, we have. we'll get completely, like some tart, male or female tart, caught by social images, caught by so many attractive things. Tenzo and

[29:09]

The monastery is quite different from Cook Inn. Dogen said Tenzo and Monastery is very different from Cook Inn or Hotel. It just tries to make something good. you are not concerned with good or bad, but finding this constant, no gap, imageless practice, this entry. Maybe, as I said, stone is more of an entry than language, or mantra. You know, if language may be one word, or mantra is enough. Mantra or stone, or your posture, or your attention, but not some description, not some image. To get a sense of and finally trust this imageless. You know, you do exist imageless, in an imageless way.

[30:43]

But we are so used to images, it's very difficult. But if you can get a taste of it in Zazen practice, then begin to follow imageless stream. And maybe, as I said, don't look around so much. One of Suzuki Roshi's teachers at the university told him, don't be a friend of human being, be a friend of heaven and earth. It also means don't look around. You should be able to see its image and just set it aside. It's only an image. Even though it could be real, even though it's something you want to do, at this moment it's just an image. Why do you need to always put it in front of you? Like dessert. Anything's better than this, I'd better think of something.

[32:35]

But we are quite lucky here. Beautiful, sunny weather, good food, hot baths. It may not always be like this. Something terrible will happen to you. But so far, okay. Something may happen to you, but right now, please, enjoy spring weather. dessert won't be so good as this action. So I don't care what you do, you know, in the future, but right here, right now, there's no reason to do anything but try to find

[33:50]

constant, gapless, imageless existence or practice. It will make you a spiritual mountain, it says. By this practice we become a spiritual mountain. It means nothing can disturb you, nothing will disturb Whether someone calls you an ass or Pika, doesn't make any difference. So this chance to entrust ourselves with each other is bodhisattva practice. And without this effort to entrust ourselves with each other, you won't find this constant, gapless, imageless existence.

[35:29]

Whatever you say, really, is there any place to go or anything to do? Right now, is there any place to go or anything to do? For whatever we're doing or wherever we're going, we should know in practice at the same time that life in which there's nothing to do and no place to go. And in this session you can develop your taste for imageless, constant, gapless practice. Like thirty years

[37:48]

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