This podcast is offered by the San Francisco Zen Center on the web at www.sfcc.org. Our public programs are made possible by donations from people like you. Good evening, beloved Sangha here in the Buddha Hall and also to all of you online joining us now and sometime in the future. My name is Eli. I'm one of the resident priests here at City Center. And we'll be giving the talk tonight. I wanted to start by giving a big bow of gratitude to my big brother in the Dharma, Tim Wick, Sartanto, for inviting me to give this talk. And we're just coming out of interim here, which means... Y'all have not been sitting for the last day. So I wanted to start tonight, not with Zazen, but a short exercise. So if you don't mind getting in a comfortable position, perhaps closing your eyes because there may be some visualization or somatic sensing.

[01:11]

So go ahead and just take a moment to settle. Perhaps take a couple of breaths. Nice and full. And then on the next couple of exhales, try to clear your mind as much as you can. And now when you're ready, I want you to allow a picture of your life to come forth. You can imagine any texture or medium. Go abstract, colorful, sparse. There's no right or wrong. It's just about expressing. It's just about letting something emerge.

[02:23]

And you're welcome to stay there or you can come out. But just out of curiosity, and no one has to answer this out loud unless you're dying to, but I'm curious to know how many of you created an image? Okay, I'll do one. That's great. How many of you found a story naturally arose with those images? Okay. How many of you imagined what kind of materials or steps might go into making this image to a reality? Did you start about thinking with shapes, shades, tools, colors? Did your picture show your past, your present or future? How many thought, am I doing this right? How many of you created a picture of yourself here right now in the Buddha Hall?

[03:48]

Or in the online Zendo? So already we're beginning to touch into something that I wanted to explore tonight. And that's how in Zen and both Zen and art, we're asked to meet our life with intimacy, not just fixate on some final picture. but how to be present with the ingredients that we have right now. In Zen practice, we're not performing. We're expressing life from our true nature, our Buddha nature. But how? How do we create a life or a painting from the raw, sometimes chaotic materials of our present conditions? Got a lot of chaos going on right now, too. And so this talk is going to be about that exploration. How can we express ourselves with authenticity and creativity, not just for the sake of art, but also for the sake of life?

[04:53]

How do we stop living in the painful gap between who we think we should be and who we are right now? So I wanted to use art because I feel it's a powerful metaphor for this. It's not about the product, but the process. And the same is very much true for our Zen practice. And I tend to reference this a lot, but we're really born with this beginner's mind, this naturally interconnected, curious, creative being. And I often imagine what it was like to first come into contact with things in all of my senses. to experience color, texture, sound, sensation without any overlay. And for me, that was kind of like mushing Play-Doh into Legos or spilling syrup on the carpet, just completely immersed and completely present. And then, however, we get told, like, don't do that.

[05:57]

That's not appropriate. And so developmentally, we start to change around two or three, well, with varying things, but between the ages of two and three, most of us learn how to talk. And so we go from making these sounds that come from our depth of our being and are very connected to our whole entity into beginning to mimic, copy. And we shape ourselves around what's modeled for us. And slowly, and often unconsciously, we trade curiosity for correctness. By age five or six, we're shifting from asking questions to performing answers. And soon it's not, what is this? But instead, am I doing this right? We begin to compare, criticize. Many of us have both literally and figuratively speaking, start to glance over and look at the other person's stick figure.

[07:02]

And maybe some of you are looking to your sides right now like, oh, that abbot is sitting so beautifully. Won't crack a smile, though. So we kind of go into this kind of comparison system. And usually we conclude something along the lines of, this isn't right for me. or this just isn't for me. We're taught that art has rules, and then we internalize those rules. And this is obviously not just about art, but how we learn about life for ourselves. We learn that our expression should match someone else's, that our value depends on outcomes and not presence, that creativity is for maybe the talented, and the rest of us should stick to what's acceptable. We learn to feel critical and limited in our art making, which ultimately, I think, leads into us being critical or limiting of our authentic self.

[08:11]

And of course, this sets up a lifetime pattern. And later, we may show up in a therapist's office, a coach's session, or a Zen center, trying to reconnect with what we've covered up. And so when we come to practice, at least, and probably those other modalities, we start to pay attention to how we do things, not just what we do, shifting our focus from doing to being. So you may see some of this colorful artwork out here. It's not a coincidence. But Maya, my seven and a half year old daughter, goes to a school where they really engage in the steps of learning. of course with art, but really all types of learning. And it's not about drawing or just choosing color or shape, but it's really building a foundational intention. And it's interesting, the things or the lessons that she learns are called forms as well.

[09:18]

I get a kick out of that. And so they learn straight lines and curves. because that's how you make up everything. They start out with these little crayons that are quite fun to draw with. But anyhow, they have them identify the different sides. Maya identifies this big side as Papa, the medium side is Mama, and then the kid is the corners. And so they learn how to use all of these different sizes and really become acquainted with how the utensils feel in their hand. You can see up here when she was in kindergarten, every week they would come home with another one of these and really just taking the time to be with colors, to understand how they blend, to understand how they feel when they are put on the page, you know, before they're told to draw scenes. And so they really don't get into conceptual stuff until

[10:23]

in a third or second or third grade. But through this process, they learn how to express themselves. Suzuki Roshi said, a wonderful painting is the result of the feeling in your fingers. If you have the feeling of the thickness of, or excuse me, if you have the feeling of the thickness of the ink in your brush, the painting is already there before you paint. And so I think he means by this is that art just isn't in the canvas. It's in the fingers, in the ink, in the presence. Before you act, the being is already there. When I was a kid, I really wasn't raised that way. I was just not even told how to make or to hold a pencil before I was told to make art, how to feel the weight of the brush or how to connect with the supplies. And I suppose that's how most of us were taught before learning how to grow or become intimate with our emotional inner world, we're asked, what do you want to be?

[11:28]

And to reference Maya again, her cousin Mila, who is about a year and some months ahead of her in this life experience, and also has more recently been introduced or allowed to be on YouTube, and yes, there's influencers for that age. The last time I picked her up from the airport with Maya, got into the back seat, and we started driving, and one of the first questions Mila asked was, hey, Maya, what kind of car do you want when you grow up? And Maya just has literally, I mean, she understands words, but she has no way of actually understanding the concept of the question, so she's just kind of blankly staring. So Mila asks again, like, what kind of car do you want? And Maya says, a car. And then Mila's like, no, no, no, no. What kind of car, though? This one. She probably thought she was going to get my car.

[12:29]

I hope that for my bank account's sake that that stays. But she really just was not exposed ever to this kind of future-based identity thinking. And I don't bring this up to criticize Mila. She's like the most beautiful, wonderful girl. But I really want to talk about or notice how early we start to grasp onto a future identity while skipping the process of becoming or understand how we relate to that future fully. And so this can happen in practice. We start to grasp maybe to a future transformed version of ourself, perhaps why we came to practice. And it can also also kind of make it hard to stay in the process. Many people give up on art early because they're told or tell themselves they're not good at it. So we stop painting, we stop singing, but we don't stop living. Instead, we begin to live a life in a way that's curated, perhaps click-worthy, shareable.

[13:34]

And sometimes this more authentic expression of our heart gets traded for what will get approval. As the Buddha taught, comparison is one of the ten fetters that bind us to suffering. And in Zazen, we get the opportunity to sit with this comparing mind. And it's not to suppress it, but instead to see it, to breathe with it, and to meet the kind of underlying sense of lack that might be behind it. We can offer our compassion into the parts of us that maybe don't think we're enough. And some of you know this, but we just got out of a practice period and intensive that was focused around the Tenzo Kyokun or the instructions to the cook. And so some of the lessons are still probably alive for you. So I wanted to vibe a little bit off of that. And some of you may have heard Ed Brown, who's one of our renowned teachers, a first tenzo or head cook for these temples and also author of a book and also, I guess it was maybe turned into a film called How to Cook Your Life.

[14:51]

So you can check that out. But his words reminded me of how deeply he's actually shaped my understanding of practice, art and life. So many years ago, over about a decade now, I had the wonderful opportunity to go to his personal retreats and would go yearly. And there was one talk that I recall, which he's probably given in other spaces, but was quite transformative for me. He shared how in practice after 19 years, so maybe we can save some time for us, that he had a quite powerful realization. Would you like to hear it? He said, and it's very simple, but when it hits you, I think it really does. And it was to tend to what's inside instead of concentrating on some project. And this is often what we do in both art and life, I would say.

[15:51]

We fixate on the end product, the outcome, the impression will leave. Will it matter? Will it be good enough? Will it be recognized? And he said something in the talk that stayed with me. He said, put down the need to make a project. Attend to what's inside. Let your true nature come forth. And he used this whether approaching life or a meal, but it could be applied to relationships or a piece of art. He encouraged us to look in, to look out, to see the ingredients right in front of us. What's in your life now? What's entering your life? What are you being given? And then his instructions were from that place, dream. Dream of what to do with what you have. Dream of what's coming in. That, he said, is creativity. And so, again, authenticity doesn't come from some external source or future version of yourself.

[16:53]

It doesn't come from the need to impress or perform. It doesn't even come from inside you in the way that we usually think. It comes from beyond, at least beyond our general way of thinking, from a dynamic, a live space that exists in each moment. So to let that things come from beyond and meet them, that's practice and that's art. Suzuki Roshi said, the purpose of Zazen is to attain the... to attain the freedom of our being physically and mentally. According to Dogen Zenji, who is our, Suzuki Roshi is the founder of these temples, Dogen Zenji, the founder of the Soto school. And according to him, every existence is a flashing into the vast phenomenal world. Each existence is another expression of the quality of being itself. So again, just hopping back into next week.

[17:58]

During retreats, we have a meal, usually, or more, in the meditation hall, or the zendo. And as we got together for sushin and gathered the heart-mind, I was lucky enough to be what they call a soku, or it's kind of the person that directs the servers in and out of the zendo, making sure that food gets to the community. So in collaboration with the ingredients that our generous Tenzo Claire and the cooks provided, we serve a meal. And all of this is held in forms, yet there's still a way that moment to moment something is being created and something's being offered. Collectively, we contribute to the art of practice. And as Dan was saying last week, week in a Dharma talk, there's this kind of energy from the Tenzo to the serving crew that comes into the Zendo.

[19:03]

And this relationship between giver, receiver, and gift, this practice of embodiment, or this is kind of an embodied practice of being a caretaker. So it's important for us to remember that we're always giving and receiving this gift of art. Again, this past Monday, several of us went down to Tassajara, which is our monastery in Carmel Valley. And I got to partake in another one of my favorite Zen experiences. And it's a particular ceremony that recognizes a practitioner's transition from being kind of a head student to taking up a Dharma seat or a teaching seat. So for the last three months, my dear friend, Reverend Kristen Diggs, has been looking inward, looking outward, taking in the ingredients of the valley, of the students, of the mountains, and streams that make up the Ta-Sahara Valley.

[20:08]

And supporting these students with the ingredients of wisdom and compassion. And at the end of this three months, we have this Shusel ceremony. which in a sense could be seen as an embodiment of art, as an improvisational masterpiece of Buddha Dharma. And once a student has learned and embodied the forms, just like at my school, they're ready to produce an art that comes from the heart. And this ceremony is highlighted in a series of back-and-forth questions and answers between the assembly and Kristen, which also includes students and former chiseaux. And this is an enactment of body, speech, and mind in perfect oneness. And these questions are not met with a thinking mind. Quite the contrary. They're met with a beginner's mind, flexible and ready for whatever question someone brings forth.

[21:14]

And there was a roar. So if you ever get to go to a sous-sau ceremony, you might hear somebody let out a magnificent roar. And this ability to be present and ready, allowing for what's within to meet the moment as it is and respond appropriately is invitation of this Zen practice. And I wanna emphasize this way that we practice is not just the way to cultivate art, but it's also a wider and deeper lens to appreciate art in all its forms. And I think this is why when you walk around this temple, you may think you see a lot of art, whether it's a flower arrangement, the way something's laid out, or even the gamasio on our serving trays. They're all deep ways of how we express ourselves through the forms. Even movement itself is an expression of our true nature.

[22:18]

Most of you may be familiar with Dogen speaking about this aspect of this concept of non-thinking. And it was really what he put forth as the essential art of Zazen. In the Ginjo Koan, he says, to study the Buddha way is to study the self. To study the self is to be actualized by myriad things. And so these teachings between non-thinking and being actualized by myriad things are the essence of art and experiencing things as they are, and the essence of this giver, receiver, and gift. And I feel, and many of you may, that since we started practicing, we tend to see art in many crevices of life. We recognize beauty in the mundane, and life awakens and comes forth. Last week also, our abbot Mako spoke about this when she was talking about Joyful Mind and the various forms that it takes.

[23:30]

I love that she used a poem that I've included before, Aimless Love by Billy Collins, which in it he describes love. And there's a part where he's talking about falling in love with a dead mouse in its little brown suit. And really, I think that it goes hand in hand with what I'm trying to express this evening. When we start to become intimate with what is, the world can turn into art or joy or love. A few weeks ago, we also watched a... movie how many people here have seen it's on Netflix chef's table it was the episode with John Kwan okay go check it out because it'll like kind of a representation almost of what I'm trying to point to but she would be considered the Tenzo of Tenzos if there were such a thing The way that she could harness the beauty in food by presenting its natural expression, like literally just like a leaf on a plate, but it was kind of mind-blowing.

[24:41]

Her having a very chaotic garden, but to her she could just see the richness and the beauty in all that inhabited and grew in it. And of course, the food that she brought forth was really just... exemplifying the essence of the ingredients that she uses. And I think we've all had moments like that in practice, perhaps not as regular, where we just looked at a cup of tea and are just like, wow. Or see a tree, or perhaps just hear the fountain in the courtyard. I know some parents in here may relate to this, or others perhaps, but for me, one of the greatest joys in life is hearing Maya eat. I don't know why, but there's something about her nourishing herself that just fills the heart. And it was amazing to me this weekend when I was Soku, stand by the door, everyone started to eat, I would just close my eyes and

[25:49]

I hear this munching and the clicking of chopsticks, and my heart just swelled up. I was literally overwhelmed. And there's something about that that just brought deep satisfaction to me, hearing the sangha nourish themselves. And so it's kind of paradoxical. In forgetting the self, something real arises, a brushstroke, a life, a moment. Years ago, probably five or so, when I first started giving talks, I very much obsessed over the content, the presentation, impression. Mostly came from comparison. Now I've learned to start a little bit earlier, to gather the ingredients gently through a walk or a run, get something down on the voicemail, have a conversation with my dear teacher, Ed Sarazan, who's tuning in tonight.

[26:55]

And in the middle of that conversating into my phone, I see Tim. I say, hi, Tim. Told you I was going to reference that. And waving at Tim, that's part of it, too. The art that you think you're working on is not separate from the moment you're in. So I just wanted to check back with you to that degree and see how that picture of your life is going. And to be clear, I'm not saying that we shouldn't envision, set goals, strive for things, certain outcomes, but just not to the degree that we become fixated, lose clarity on what is, or numb to allowing for or meeting change when it's needed. I'm about to wrap up here, but I wanted to say that this last year has brought many new ingredients to myself, a sort of clearing of the canvas in the process of ending a 20-year marriage and 25-year relationship.

[27:59]

And with it comes a different type of practice, almost. For the first time in my adult life, I have to meet the canvas alone, untangled colors once shared, Notice the fixed lines I had drawn around who I was and what we were. And even though I've been practicing for some time now, not much, but over a decade, there's a lot that I hadn't seen yet about how I'd been choosing my colors, arranging my tools, or even understanding the composition of my life. So now I'm learning to paint again. not from scratch, but from silence, from uncertainty and intimacy with what is. And in this space, I've come to appreciate a deeper layer of practice, not the kind where we get clarity through answers, but the kind where we hold questions tenderly and remain open.

[29:02]

So for those of you who have not went through that kind of big life change, no worries. It's not too much different, I think, than monks when they come to a new temple and have to learn new forms. Or perhaps you've switched jobs or careers, went to a place that does a similar thing, but not how you did them at the last place. So we have to work differently. We have to practice in ways that meet whatever situation we're in. especially when we're not familiar or feel oriented. So this is where Zen for me is most alive. It teaches us to sit with what's here, not to fix it, analyze it, or judge it, but just to stay in close relation, to live in the process, to show up for what's unfolding, not for what we planned. So again, as Dogen says, to study the self is to forget the self.

[30:08]

To forget the self is to be actualized by myriad things. And sometimes those myriad things are heartbreak, confusion, or an entirely unfamiliar life. So what I'm learning from this, the art of Zen practice, it's not about creating something beautiful. It's about deep relationship with what is. And when we're in with relationship, we naturally create without needing to know what the final picture will be. So I just wanted to end up with, I guess, some Dharma from an artist. I'm going to say Bay Area, even though he's from L.A., David Cho. He said that people tend to create from two places, fear and or curiosity. So when I think about my own life and my own grief, I see the moments where fear tightens the brush in my hand, where I try to control the outcome.

[31:13]

The moments that I soften, when I allow curiosity to meet me. What now? Who am I now? What color is this feeling? That curiosity is a form of zazen. It's not mental. It's not analysis. It's embodied openness and presence. Zen invites us into the very same thing, moment by moment. Sit down. Breathe. Be curious. Meet what arises. Let it form you. Let it create you. We don't have to know the outcome. We just have to know how to stay in process and to remember that everything we need is already here, waiting to be seen, felt, and touched. 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.

[32:22]

Your financial support helps us to continue to offer the Dharma. For more information, please visit sfzc.org and click giving. May we fully enjoy the Dharma.

[32:38]

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