This podcast is offered by the San Francisco Zen Center on the web at www.sfzc.org. Our public programs are made possible by donations from people like you. Good morning, everyone. Feeling the pumpkin pudding sugar coursing through my veins. Jitters on top of jitters. some thank yous. I'd like to thank Abbott David and Tonto Linda for inviting me to give this talk. And also for coming to me two weeks ago and saying, you seem really busy. Maybe you don't have time to write a term attack. And thank myself for doing it anyways.

[01:01]

You didn't know it was a very tempting offer. I want to thank the great earth, water, sky, fire, that nourish and sustain us. And I want to thank my teacher, Agent Linda Ruth Cutts, for all of her support and guidance. And I want to thank all of you for being here. or your diligent and deep Sishin practice. This is the first Dharma talk that I've given since becoming a mother and, accordingly, the least prepared I've ever been for giving a Dharma talk, which feels very right and appropriate. Like our dear Abbot,

[02:03]

I too have some perfectionist tendencies, and I can say unequivocally that becoming a parent is the best medicine for perfectionism that I have ever encountered. When I was asked to give this talk, I knew that the practice of being a parent, how Zen practice has informed my ideas about parenting, and also ways that parenting has informed my practice would be what I would talk about. To say that becoming a parent has been central to my life and practice in the past couple of years is a huge understatement. But at first I thought, maybe it will seem too much about me or too personal, and there are so many people here who aren't parents. Will they feel left out or separate? And that leads me to... maybe the essential message that I want to convey with this talk, one of the primary teachings that I've learned since having a baby, even though on the surface, the ways that we relate with babies and children might seem different from the ways that we relate with adults, there are some universal fundamentals that are just teachings about how to relate, and they apply to the way that we relate with babies

[03:33]

the way we relate with other adults, and the way that we relate with ourselves. I'm pretty certain that learning how to be with Mira has helped me to learn how to be with all of you. And so I hope you can all find something in this talk that helps you. theme that I want to explore is transformation and impermanence, both fundamental to our practice and also to parenting. For a long time, I wasn't sure that I wanted to have children for many reasons, one of them being that I was afraid of not being a good parent, and it seemed like such an important thing to do well. I had an idea that if I became a parent, I needed to thoroughly research human psychology, parenting techniques, know every possible medical problem that might arise, and be prepared for everything.

[04:41]

Then and only then would I consider becoming a parent. And I think that a lot of people think that before they can have kids, they need to have arrived at a stable place in their lives, a place where they figured everything out, and won't ever change again. Then when you have a child, you go through the biggest transformation of your life, and it becomes very clear that you and your child will be constantly changing, adjusting, growing, and learning from each other. My first Tassajara roommate, Mary Media, used to tell me, pretty emphatically that she didn't want to have kids because her relationship with her parents was so unhealthy and she was afraid of passing that on to another being. Then when she got to her late 30s, something shifted for her and she told me that she now felt ready to have a baby because of a deep wish to be transformed.

[05:52]

Here's one question I have. If we create another human life because we wish to be transformed, to drop our selfish or unwholesome karmic habits and devote ourselves to another, is that a selfish act or a selfless act? Or is it a selfish act that becomes a selfless act? One of my Buddhism professors in college said he was thinking about having kids because some of his friends told him that having kids had been really good for their practice. And when I first heard that, I thought, this guy is really selfish. He's going to create a human in order to advance his practice. But that's the thing about being transformed. We don't control the outcome and our intentions themselves might be transformed in the process. Before Mira was born, an old friend said to me, after you have a baby, you become a totally different person.

[06:58]

It's like a complete destruction of all your DNA and you emerge different. By the time I gave birth to Mira, I had been practicing Zen for 18 years. So when she told me that, I thought, whatever, I'm already totally familiar with the fact that I don't have a fixed identity and this is not news to me. At first, after giving birth, my experience was that I was just too exhausted and immersed in caring for a new being and all that that involves. for there to be any room to contemplate myself, my identity. And although we had hoped to have a home birth, there were complications in my pregnancy. And Mirabelle was born five weeks before her due date in a hospital we had never been to before, surrounded by nurses and doctors that we didn't know. My midwife was not allowed in the hospital because of COVID. and Mira needed to spend the first two weeks of her life in the NICU. I stayed in the hospital those entire two weeks in a room down the hall.

[08:04]

The day after Mirabelle was born, noticing my exhaustion and confusion and uncertainty, a nurse pulled me aside and she wrote down on a post-it note, feed, pump, rest, repeat every three hours. Suddenly, I had a schedule to follow, although an extremely demanding one. I thought I was somewhat prepared for sleep deprivation and surrendering to the schedule after my time at Tassahara, but nothing compares to the sleep deprivation of caring for a newborn. I would spend an hour and a half with Mira trying to get her to breastfeed and then holding her against my skin while I pumped milk. And then Zenko would spend an hour and a half with her while I washed the pump supplies and ate food and slept and took my medication and very occasionally showered. And then I would go back to Nira.

[09:07]

It was a sushine of sorts, peppered with conversations with doctors and nurses about how she was doing. But mostly I remember the rhythm and how my energy grew as I got used to the schedule. and the routine of it. When I rested, it was so that my body could recover and be stronger so that I could take care of her. When I ate food, it was so that my body could recover and be stronger so that I could take care of her. My life felt completely given to her. My body existed to support her. Eventually we went home and life continued. Mira grew stronger and better at nursing. And that tiny four pound, 12 ounce baby learned to breastfeed, learned to sleep for longer and longer periods, started eating other foods, started crawling, started walking. And at the same time that she has gradually become more independent, I have gradually felt myself change in accordance with her.

[10:15]

Another common thing parents tell new parents, in addition to how you're going to become a different person, is how every time you think you've mastered something in your parenting practice, figured out the right nap schedule, baby proof the room, figured out how to get your kid to eat kale, they change. They get taller, and those cleaning supplies that used to be out of their reach are now within their reach, and you've run out of high places to put the high things. They used to fall for that trick where you dip the strawberry in pureed kale, but they're not falling for it anymore. There is truly no resting on your laurels or autopilot in parenting. It's all beginner's mind. One change after the next for both the parent and the child. The Tassajara schedule and the monastic forms that we follow are designed to help us drop our self-centeredness and our likes and dislikes. And as we mature in our practice, the idea is that instead of making choices based on what our small self wants, we orient ourselves and all our actions towards the Dharma.

[11:28]

Practice evolves from being something that we do, something outside of ourselves, to being a flavor that permeates all our activity. To some extent, I experienced that flavor before having Neera, but having a child takes it to a whole new level. Even when I find a moment or two to myself, my fundamental orientation has shifted to such an extent that it's no longer me time because my rest is in order to care for her. And when the bell rings or the baby wakes up, you just go, no deliberating. During those first months, I noticed that I didn't care about what people thought of me as much as I used to. All of that self-concern had melted away under the force of this greater concern. It was simultaneously liberating and all-consuming. Dogen Zenji talks about this in his instructions to the Tenzo.

[12:31]

Even poor or suffering people raise their children with deep love. They do not care whether they themselves are poor or rich. Their only concern is that their children will grow up. They pay no attention to whether they themselves are cold or hot, but cover their children to protect them from the cold or shield them from the hot sun. This is extreme kindness. There are a lot of forms and ceremonies involved in taking care of a baby. I remember a moment last year when I was in the middle of changing Mira's diaper, and I suddenly realized, this is just like Oriyogi. All of these precise movements and folds and maneuvers that I do over and over throughout the day every day. Over time Mira has become more and more resistant to having her diaper changed and her dread is contagious. I have a choice each time.

[13:35]

I can bring an attitude of let's get this over with or I can see it as an opportunity to practice mindfulness and to bring my whole life force and aliveness to the present moment. We have those same choices at evening service, when we're chopping vegetables, in all of our activity. That's the gift of these forms that we do over and over. They are opportunities to choose what kind of mind we want to nourish and cultivate. Dogen Zenji, again, this time in the Mountains and Waters Sutra. At the moment of giving birth to a child, is the mother separate from the child? You should study not only that you become a mother when your child is born, but also that you become a child. In our practice, we hear how we are not separate from others and that our existence depends on myriad causes and conditions.

[14:42]

We learned that our idea of a separate self is an illusion. This all made a lot of sense to me before I became a parent. I could see how I wouldn't exist if it wasn't for my parents, and they wouldn't exist if it wasn't for their parents. And I could see how I wouldn't exist without water to drink and food to eat. And that innumerable labors brought me that food and water. And on and on. And still, after giving birth to a baby who was so completely connected to me, whose sustenance came from my body, and who quieted down and fell asleep when she touched my skin and felt my heartbeat, I not only understood this principle of non-separation in my mind, I felt it in my body, in my utter exhaustion, in every activity. The life of a mother is the life of a child. There's a network of interacting brain regions that, among other things, allows us to differentiate between self and other.

[15:49]

This network in the brain does not begin functioning until later in childhood, so babies and young children have a radically different sense of self and other than the one that we as adults are so accustomed to experiencing. When this brain network is working overtime, our sense of being separate from others is heightened, which can often lead to depression. There are a few things, including intensive meditation practice and psychedelic drugs, which quiet down this brain network, which in turn quiets down our sense of being separate as well. I remember a fellow practitioner with a young daughter who was totally awestruck at watching her mind develop. He noticed that she didn't distinguish between self and other the way that us adults do, and he thought, this is what we're all practicing to attain, and she's got it. We are born great Zen students, and in a way, I think that our practice is to unlearn the conditioning that has led us to see things as separate while hopefully continuing to function in our day-to-day life as adults.

[17:01]

Leslie loaned a book to me and Zenko called Hunt, Gather, Parent. It's written by an NPR reporter from San Francisco named Micheline Dupley. And she was having a difficult time raising her unruly toddler and wanted to learn more about how different cultures parent. So she traveled around the world with her daughter and learned many things. And one of the things that she learns while staying with a Mayan community is that when a child wants to do something that the parent knows is not possible or perhaps advisable, instead of saying no, wise parents say, hmm, let's see, maybe, that's an interesting idea. And often that's enough for the child to feel met and heard, even if their idea never actually happens. The part of me that values honesty has a hard time with this one.

[18:07]

It feels manipulative to pretend to consider a possibility that you're not actually considering. But another way of thinking about it is if I say to Mira, let's see, that's interesting. I'm focusing on her experience and where she's coming from and meeting her there at that point of connection, rather than coming at it from my perspective or goals. Around the time I was reading this book last fall, we had a senior staff meeting and someone threw out a radical idea about guest season that I knew right away would not be possible, given all the planning that had already taken place. And I immediately said, that's not going to happen. And then I watched as their face fell and they kind of shrunk into themselves. And I realized, even though my intention was to be honest and straightforward, The impact was they felt shut down, not listened to or valued, and it created a separation between us that continued until I was able to talk to them about it later.

[19:17]

So when we respond to each other, can we respond not just to what's on the surface, but also to the deepest wishes that we all hold, the wish to be seen and recognized and valued and to contribute to the collective good. When we do that, that is the practice realization of our interdependence. There's this trend in modern American parenting culture called helicopter parenting, you may have heard of it, which is the tendency to monitor children at all times, protect them from every possible harm, and structure all of their time with child-centric activities like play groups and soccer practice, rather than giving them the freedom to play and explore on their own. At the other end of the parenting spectrum is free-range parenting, where children are in charge and they have total freedom with no rules or responsibilities.

[20:28]

In her book, McLean, posits a middle way in which the parent or caregiver goes about their business and the child is expected to help and contribute in whatever way they're able to. But the child also has a fair amount of autonomy. And this one reminds me of turning away and touching are both wrong. When we sit, we practice watching our thoughts without trying to push them away and without grasping them or getting caught up in them. When we parent, we provide support and guidance with a light touch, always with the intention of helping the child to grow and learn, never doing something for them that they are able to do for themselves. And in our Sangha life, we have a schedule and ethical guidelines that help point the way to how we can live together harmoniously. Guidelines that need to be accompanied by a spirit of trust,

[21:34]

and a feeling of spaciousness in all directions. Trust has always been a deep theme and exploration in my practice. What does it mean to trust this person, to trust others, to trust the universe and the fundamental okayness of life? The parent's job is to create a strong attachment with their child. to instill a feeling of safety and trust. But trust in what? Our Zen tradition teaches us that there's ultimately nothing to rely on and we train in how to be okay with what is rather than what we want life to be. I had a fairly sheltered childhood and I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like or how my character would have been altered if my parents had exposed me to more of life's harsh realities. When Mira was a newborn, I was obsessed with responding immediately to every cry.

[22:38]

Her happiness was my responsibility and mine alone. As she gets older, it gets more nuanced. I find more and more comfort in her growing strength and self-reliance, even when it means scrapes and bruises. My trust in her is growing, in her ability to thrive in this insane world. In Zen, we tend to emphasize learning by imitation and close observation rather than verbal instruction, both in terms of the physical forms, bowing and chanting and oryoki, and also in terms of how we comport ourselves, integrate the teachings into our lives, and relate with each other. It turns out this is the way that children learn most effectively as well. Children learn by watching, listening, and imitating us, not by being told what to do. And they want to do things together with their parents, like eating, bathing, brushing their teeth.

[23:44]

Adults need to model these things to children. We can't just expect kids to do them without us being involved. At the moment, Mira thinks it's hysterical when I blow my nose and she'll reach for whatever object is close at hand and hold it to her face and do the same thing. Asking her not to do something like don't hurt Ushi or trying to reason with her or explain is generally ineffective. But modeling the behavior we want, phrasing things positively, saying we touch Ushi gently and holding her hand to Ushi's back, that helps her learn. When a child misbehaves and the caregiver has a big response, That teaches the child that what they did is important and powerful. It's much more effective to ignore misbehavior, stay relaxed and calm, and just do what you want the child to do and be the way you want the child to be.

[24:49]

Our moods and our emotions are contagious. Getting angry at a child has no purpose. It only stops the line of communication between the child and the parent. They're upset about something, and the parent has to figure out what it is, what's beneath. When you yell, kids stop listening, and it only teaches them to yell when they're upset. And, dare I say it once again, the same is true for adults. When we sit zazen, we sometimes practice labeling or identifying what's arising. bringing awareness to our emotions and our mental habits and formations, and thereby loosening some of the power that those mental formations have over us and our actions. This is not always easy for adults, and it's even harder for kids. Children can feel emotions like anger, fear, disgust, and joy way before their brains can talk about them.

[25:57]

This means that children will experience the physiological characteristics of emotional responses before they know what those responses are. And that's why big emotions are really scary for kids. They don't yet understand the socially correct way of communicating those emotions. Once they start something like a tantrum, for example, it can feed on itself because they are also experiencing fear at what's happening and it spirals and grows. When we help kids label their experiences by naming them, like, you seem really frustrated, it transforms a confusing mess of physiological experiences into something known and helps them calm down. And adults can practice by starting with ourselves and labeling our own emotional states. We can study whether we suppress, judge, or avoid certain emotions when they arise

[27:03]

or welcome all emotions as important and enriching. We need to be comfortable with our own emotions in order to teach kids to be comfortable with theirs. So now I'm going to tie in our study of karma just briefly. It's important for us to be clear with ourselves, with our kids, with each other, that all emotions are welcome, but not all behaviors. Our actions are a choice, a conditioned choice, and our emotions are not. This question of what is an intentional action takes on new meaning as I observe Mira. There are so many actions that we as adults take for granted, like drinking a glass of water.

[28:07]

that I have had the privilege and joy to watch Mira learn how to do, to bring so much energy and intention to something that we do all the time without thinking. Mira clearly takes delight in learning new skills and exploring her abilities. She has learned, for example, that she can throw food on the ground from her high chair and seems to feel a sense of satisfaction at her power. Then, sometimes, Immediately, she gets upset because she wants the food back. Is she ready to learn about karma? Is she ready to accept and understand that her actions have consequences and to make choices based on that? This is a real question. When is it appropriate for me to stand back and give her her autonomy as she does something that she will likely regret? in the hopes that she will learn something?

[29:09]

And when is it appropriate for me to intercede because she does not yet understand the ways that she can harm herself or others? I'm not so interested in the concept of punishment, but I appreciate that I can start talking to Meera about the natural consequences of her actions in a straightforward, non-judgmental way. And I have deep appreciation for the teaching of karma. as complex and problematic as it is in this uncertain world full of things that we can't control. My only true possessions are my actions and I cannot escape their consequences. My actions are the ground on which I stand. Last practice period, Paul Haller talked about how when he was younger, He thought the real midi practice was what happened in the zendo, and over time he's come to see how the deepest or most important aspect of our practice is the way that we relate with others and all the things that happen outside of the zendo.

[30:17]

These two worlds of our practice are intimately related and connected, and they inform each other, but they are two different modes. For me right now, Sitting zazen is the easy part. It's the blessed time of day when I'm left alone for a little while and I'm not taking care of others. I can vaguely recall how different zazen is when you're sitting period after period during sashim, the pain and depth of that internal practice. I know someday I'll have that experience again, but between parenting a toddler and taking care of all of you as director, Relational practice feels like my world right now. That's where the real meat is for me. The challenges in my practice are in relating with all of you, finding the balance between the open field of trust and the need for clear expectations and boundaries, offering support and guidance in a way that is truly supportive and meets whatever is happening below the surface,

[31:32]

figuring out who needs to know what and when and how, communication, and learning what the most skillful response is to a suffering being, a being who deep down wants to help and be a part of the whole beautiful dance that we're dancing together. Thank you very much. Thank you for listening to this podcast offered by the San Francisco Zen Center. Our Dharma talks are offered free of charge. and this is made possible by the donations we receive. Your financial support helps us to continue to offer the Dharma. For more information, visit sfcc.org and click Giving.

[32:16]

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