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. Morning, everyone. I'd like to thank the Tonto and Fu for inviting me to give this talk. Twice. Twice. And my teacher, Agent Linda Ruth Cutts, for her support and guidance. And thank you to all of you for being here. I also want to express gratitude for this on-go, this peaceful abiding, for that bucolic feeling that arises when we see the dusk settling on the mountains. and the deer munching on the grass.

[01:00]

Gratitude for the beauty of this life together and our efforts, for the awareness that we're all experiencing our own personal brands of exhaustion, resistance, unrest, difficulty, suffering. And running through all of that, there is the harmony of following the schedule together and moving as one body. Like a river with momentum. A rich, meaty, suffering, joyful river. And I also just want to acknowledge... the kind of adjustment or recalibration that I've been going through personally over the last couple weeks. It's settled a lot, but after over a year of total engagement in the kitchen, it's been kind of this big shift for me to join the regular schedule and to not be so immersed in that world anymore because it is kind of this other universe.

[02:23]

It's connected, but it's... Yeah, the Tensoverse. And it's been pretty fascinating to notice changes arising in my mind and body. Kind of feels like other parts of my mind are coming forth into the light now that they've been released from the walk-in. And... Big thank you to the kitchen crew for feeding us, and I look forward to feeding you next week so that you can sit fishing. So the last time that Fu led a practice period here at Tassajara a few years ago, I had the great honor and delight of being her Jisha. And by the end of the practice period, I had amassed a collection of things that she had said and interactions. that occurred between us, which I'll be publishing in my upcoming koan collection entitled Call Me Foo, not Abyss Foo, because that reminds me of SpongeBob SquarePants.

[03:38]

That's a direct quote. Just Foo. I'm not actually publishing a book, but I am going to tell one story right now. and I checked in with Fu to make sure it was okay to tell this story. She said, it's okay as long as you all laugh. So one day, Fu and I were standing in the Abbott's garden, and she was about to give a talk, and I noticed that she seemed really agitated. She was pacing around, and she had this look on her face, and I didn't know what was going on, I thought. Maybe something happened. Maybe somebody died. Like, I just didn't... I was just really concerned. And I said the first thing that came to mind, which was, are you okay? And she turned to me and said, no, I'm not okay. I can't wait until you have to give a talk. I'm going to come down here and say, are you okay? They laughed.

[04:46]

They laughed. So I think we had a good laugh and came to the Zendo and she gave a great talk. And the next practice period, I was Shuso. And she didn't come down from Green Gulch and accost me in Abbott's Garden and say, are you okay? And for any of my talks, but I enjoyed the possibility that she might like pop out from behind a bush or something. So today I want to talk a little bit about encouragement in our practice. In retrospect, and if I put myself in Fu's shoes or try to, it's clear to me that asking her if she was okay was not the most encouraging thing I could have done. Maybe what would have been encouraging would have been a warm smile or a joke about a penguin standing on a person. At the same time,

[05:48]

Even if I failed to encourage Fu, the interaction we had was really encouraging for me. To see a teacher in brown robes experiencing fear helped me to feel connected to Fu, and it also made the idea of me sitting in this seat giving a Dharma talk, an idea which had previously seemed utterly preposterous to me, a little bit easier to imagine. I don't think of encouragement as a typical Zen word per se, but we do actually talk about it quite a bit. When I first started practicing, I read somewhere about an interchange between Soen Nakagawa and a student. The student said, I am very discouraged. What should I do? And Soen Nakagawa replied, encourage others. I found this to be an intriguing teaching since at the time my strategy when I felt discouraged was to lie on the floor blasting depressing music and bawl my eyes out.

[06:58]

Other examples of encouragement coming up. So during Sashin, the Shuso or the head of the practice period sometimes offer what we call encouraging words during the last period of Zazen. Words which emerge... abruptly from the silence to soothe all of us in our aching knees. The kiyosaku, which we don't really use so much anymore, but which still sits behind the altar, is sometimes called an encouragement stick. Encourages you back to wake up. And our venerable treasurer, Greg Fane, begins all of his dharma talks by saying, this talk is just to encourage you in your practice. Well, what does that mean? What does it mean to encourage someone? And how do we encourage each other in our practice? Thinking about encouragement led me on a path to thinking about courage, which led me down into the dark forest of fear, which is really the point of origin.

[08:06]

In order to encourage others, we need to find courage within ourselves. And in order to do that, we need to know our own fear intimately. So the word encourage means to give courage or hearten, and to discourage is to cause someone to lose courage or dishearten. And courage comes from the French word cur, or the Latin core, which means heart. So the original meaning of courage was pretty broad. It referred to one's heart, one's emotions, one's spirit, temperament, state or frame of mind. innermost feelings. And then around the 14th century, the definition narrowed down and courage came to mean inner strength, zeal, and the quality of mind which enables one to meet danger and trouble without fear. So personally, I can't really relate to this definition of courage to the idea of being in a state without fear.

[09:11]

But there's another definition of courage that which is the ability to do things which one finds frightening. And this distinction between being unafraid versus experiencing fear and diving in anyway is what I want to look at. For me, saying that a courageous person doesn't experience fear is like saying that an awakened person doesn't experience pain. Fear and fearlessness are two aspects of the same mind of awakening. woven together like old friends. Living a life of courage means developing an intimate relationship with one's fear and choosing willingly to face pain, uncertainty, and difficulty. Getting used to the terror, as Reb said to Fu. Pain exists, fear exists, so how do we meet it and practice with it? On this note, I want to dip back into the first turning of the wheel and say a little bit about David Brazier's interpretation of the Four Noble Truths as described in his book, The Feeling Buddha, because I find it helpful in this exploration of how to relate to our fear with wisdom.

[10:34]

So the basic premise of Brazier's book is that the Four Noble Truths are often misinterpreted. The incorrect interpretation, according to him, is that by following the Eightfold Path and practicing non-attachment, we will no longer experience afflictions or dukkha or the difficult emotions that come up with afflictions like desire and attachment. A big source of confusion, according to him, is that people often translate dukkha as suffering, but But dukkha refers to the classic list of afflictions, birth, old age, sickness, death, being joined with what we dislike, being separated from what we like, and not getting what we want. And all those afflictions are just facts or events. They're not suffering itself. And then a third kind of common misinterpretation is that

[11:39]

desire and attachment are the cause of dukkha, and that we should try to eliminate our feelings in order to prevent dukkha from arising. So here's what Brazier believes is a more accurate interpretation. The first noble truth is that afflictions, or dukkha, are inevitable parts of life, facts of life, birth, death, not getting what we want. And then the second noble truth is that the emotions that arise in us as a result of afflictions are also inevitable parts of life, but suffering as a result of experiencing afflictions and emotions is not inevitable. And the way to meet afflictions and emotions without suffering is by accepting them completely and not avoiding them. So this interpretation rings a little more true for me and my experience. When dukkha is defined as things like birth and death, the idea that there could be some way to not experience dukkha strikes me as one of those preposterous, far-out metaphysical explanations that the Buddha apparently avoided getting into.

[12:54]

Even the Buddha himself, after his enlightenment, continued to be subject to afflictions. He experienced sickness and death, according to many stories, and a few other difficulties as well. To think that being on a spiritual path means an end to afflictions is a kind of spiritual greed. And Suzuki Roshi talked about this greed that we have to be free of problems and afflictions through our practice. There's the famous story of the time he was giving a talk and said, the problems you are experiencing, And a student listening started thinking to himself, we'll go away, right? And then he finished with, we'll continue for the rest of your life. The second noble truth is literally samudaya, which means with or to go up or co-arising. So samudaya is what arises in us when afflictions occur.

[13:58]

And that can include... the desire for things to be otherwise, attachment, feeling, and passions. Feelings, like fear, for example, are not problematic in and of themselves. The problem is what we do with ourselves, the coping mechanisms, and the harm we cause when we try to avoid our feelings. It's totally natural and part of our survival instincts to pull away from pain and fear. So it makes sense that we're attracted to the idea of finding a way to not experience pain. But the teaching is that this is not actually possible. This is not our life. And in fact, when we try to protect ourselves from fear, we tend to grow more afraid. And if we really close ourselves off, that fear hardens into things like fixed ideas, feelings of separation, hatred. So this is not what the teaching is advocating.

[15:00]

The teaching is that all four truths are noble. That first step of meeting our pain and fear completely is a noble act, just as noble and courageous and worthy of respect as the Eightfold Path. Sometimes, even once we accept, that suppressing our fears isn't helpful or possible, we might still think that we can reason our way out of fear. Because we as humans are most aware of the verbal or rational part of our brains, we tend to assume that every part of our mind should be receptive to argument and will. But fear has its roots in the reptilian part of our brain, so we can't think our way or will our way out of fear with the rational neocortex part of our brain. Our emotions are over in the limbic part of our brain, so there's really like three separate tracks and they don't really communicate with each other.

[16:02]

We can't direct our emotional lives or subdue our fear the way we plan our tasks for the afternoon. Discipline has nothing to do with it. We cannot will ourselves to feel courageous. So fear is not something to be... ashamed of, ignored, avoided, conquered, transcended, or maybe even understood in the sense of rational understanding, fear is something to be paid attention to, something to move close to with openness, acceptance, and compassion. This means being willing to look at yourself clearly, and to stay with yourself when you want to shut down or run away from your experience. It means keeping your heart open when you feel that what you see in yourself is too embarrassing or painful or unpleasant or selfish.

[17:05]

It means patience with the deep karmic patterns that have made themselves comfortable in us. It means feeling our feelings completely, going deeper into the crevices of our minds and paying such close attention that we discover new things about ourselves. This is courage. Over time, if we stay present with our experience, we build a deeper friendship with ourselves that includes our whole self, even the parts that are painful to be with. And when we name our fears and become intimate with them... they can become a source of strength and aliveness. And this is Zazen. This is our practice of Zazen, being with ourselves and our fears fully and completely and honestly. And when Zazen has helped us to be honest and courageous enough to know ourselves in a deep way, we can begin to extend out and help others because the things that seem to be outside of us that appear threatening themselves

[18:15]

seem that way because of the fear within us, the fear we have been reluctant to look at. The things that unnerve us, trigger feelings of inadequacy, make us feel that we can't handle it, lose their power over us when we become intimate with fear. One specific practice that helps us face our fears is meditating on the five remembrances. The five remembrances are very similar to the afflictions I mentioned earlier. The first is, I am subject to aging. There is no way to avoid aging. The second is, I am subject to ill health. There is no way to avoid illness. The third is, I am going to die. There is no way to avoid death. The fourth is, everyone and everything that I love will change. and I will be separated from them.

[19:17]

And the fifth remembrance is, my only true possessions are my actions, and I cannot escape their consequences. My actions are the ground on which I stand. The first four remembrances are very basic fears that we all share, and the practice is to invite them into our consciousness and stop seeing them as enemies. And what I love about the five remembrances is that they end with karma. We can't control all these inevitable afflictions and the conditions of our lives. We can't control the arising of fear and other difficult emotions as a result. But we can control our intentional actions. That is where we can make an effort. Another definition of courage which I found was... to speak one's mind by telling all one's heart. And in the same way that getting to know ourselves and our own fears better helps to disintegrate them, when we get to know each other and listen to each other's stories, our hearts open up to each other.

[20:31]

We see each other's humanity. I have a confession. I sometimes find people annoying. I've had the experience of like, oh, that person's kind of annoying. And then I hear their way-seeking mind talk with all of the stories and the conditions that brought them to be the person they are. And something transforms in me. When I hear people's stories, my heart kind of melts and this compassion arises effortlessly. So when we find each other, sorry, we find ourselves treating another person unkindly, there's usually some accompanying denial of or blinders to the other person's humanity or fullness. When we cultivate compassion, we become more aware of each other as whole persons, not simply things outside of ourselves to be controlled or manipulated or fixed, but as centers of real awareness.

[21:41]

And this act of telling our stories, which seems so simple, has this magical healing and connecting quality. Despite thick layers of fear and conditioning, there's a fundamental human wish to meet, recognize, and expose our hearts to each other. And I've kind of come to think of that as encouragement, just two hearts meeting and recognizing each other. In the same way that meeting our own fear is not based in reason, encouraging others is not some kind of rational endeavor, and it's not about knowing all the answers to someone's problems. It's about paying attention, staying close, and a quality of resonance. When someone is discouraged, They often don't want to hear a solution to their problems or how they can feel better. Sometimes the most helpful thing is to just listen and be with them, and they're suffering completely.

[22:49]

I've been thinking about this lately because sometimes when I'm offering practice discussion, I'll notice my rational brain start to whir, thinking, what can I say to this person that will be helpful? How can I best encourage them? And lately I've been practicing with... letting go of that train and coming back to just being with the other person as completely as I can. Which to me feels like this shift from carrying myself forward into the conversation to an attitude of allowing myriad things to come forth. Being okay with the possibility that I might not understand what they're going through or what is most helpful. and asking questions so that they might discover for themselves something they didn't see before. Suzuki Roshi said, The Buddhist way is, in one word, jihi, compassion.

[23:54]

Jihi means to encourage people when they are feeling positive and also to help them get rid of their suffering. That is true love. It is not just to give something or to receive something or to observe precepts that we practice our way. We practice our way with things as they naturally occur, going with people, suffering with them, helping to relieve their suffering, and encouraging them to go on and on. Along those lines, I appreciated Archie So's description of the first stage of hypnotherapy in her talk, where the hypnotherapist meets the other person where they're at, attuning and aligning with them, kind of like, I imagine, like musicians tuning to each other.

[25:07]

But this is like two hearts tuning to each other, finding each other. And this is how we encourage each other, by going together, actualizing together, by connection and intimacy. Instead of an altruistic or dualistic mode of compassion, our bodhisattva vow is, may my suffering be a way to connect with all beings who are suffering. So, recap. Our usual mode of being is to be preoccupied with protecting or advancing our limited idea of ourself, our small self, which includes protecting ourselves from fear and other difficult emotions. But if we choose to become intimate with our fear, we cultivate courage and our ability to be with all the parts of ourselves, even the parts we don't like or want to shut out. And then we can just continue expanding out,

[26:12]

by opening up to each other, listening to each other's stories, and encouraging each other. And ultimately, encouraging others and encouraging ourselves is the same activity, because as we talked about yesterday in class, the teaching is that that self that we are generally so preoccupied with protecting and promoting is, like all dharmas, all phenomena, without an innate self-identity, impermanent and interdependent with all things. The Buddha Dharma teaches us to expand our limited notion of self to include the entire universe, to recognize that interdependence is happening. And if we recognize that as reality, we will naturally wish to take care of and encourage all beings and all phenomena. And if that feels kind of abstract to you, you can test this out with your experience.

[27:18]

For example, have you ever found yourself complaining about another person to a friend and then realizing at a certain point that activity is just causing harm and suffering to yourself, to your own mind and heart? Conversely, When we practice thinking compassionate thoughts, the pathways in our brain physically open and change over time. Compassion comes from the wisdom of what I do and say to you is what I'm doing and saying to myself. This is the true nature of reality, only we're conditioned to not see it that way. But this environment that we've set up here at Tassajara is designed to really emphasize this reality. We have this kind of delicate organism where we affect each other so deeply and easily through our actions of body, speech, and mind. Our forms and zazen and the schedule have a way of honing our attention and making everything more subtle so that we can practice more intimately and carefully with the ways that we impact each other.

[28:40]

Words from Wumen, he said, When all your concerns are upon your individual self, it is natural for you to respond to your personal whims, to be rude to others, and to come and go without feeling any need to be grounded. The more you try to be happy, the more miserable you become. Practice goodwill and you will find goodwill. This is karma. From Dogen, he says, benefit others, which simultaneously gives abundant benefit to the self. As Fu mentioned in class the other day, the antidote to unwholesome dharmas is to practice their opposite. For example, when we're feeling stingy, to practice generosity. And then notice how much more fun that is than stinginess. So as Soen Nakagawa said, when you feel discouraged, encourage others, which simultaneously brings encouragement to the self, the self that includes the entire universe.

[29:49]

And in the spirit of both and, I think it's also okay to lie on the floor and bawl your eyes out. To simply feel your feelings completely and thoroughly. I definitely still do that on occasion, and what I have found is that the more I practice, I still experience strong emotions like fear and discouragement, but I don't believe them as thoroughly as I used to. They're not as solid or substantial, which isn't to say they're not meaningful or valid. They're a beautiful thread in the vast brocade. fraying and unraveling here and there, and always in relation with the whole of reality. An awareness of that intimate relationship between my experience and the whole of reality is what brings me back to encouragement, to my vow to live a life of encouragement.

[30:53]

May my suffering be a way to connect with all beings who are suffering after I've bawled my eyes out. I think one common way that we tend to discourage each other is by forming fixed ideas and assumptions about each other and not being open to those ideas changing. During my Tangario practice period here, Sojin Mel Weitzman said, when you let go of your old views, you give people a chance to change. When you do not let go, you are participating in the continuation of their faults. So I want to tell a story about the Buddha encouraging someone past what everyone thought was possible and courageously living by the truth, even though it was socially unacceptable. This is the story of Sunita, as told by Thich Nhat Hanh in Old Path White Clouds.

[31:57]

Probably, I imagine most of you are aware that, um, In India for thousands of years, maybe since around 1500 BC, there's been a very rigid caste system. And today it's legally forbidden in India to discriminate based on caste, but in practice it's still somewhat alive, especially in rural areas. And at the time of the Buddha, according to Thich Nhat Hanh, for example, If an untouchable person accidentally touched someone from another caste, they might be beaten or killed. And the person from the other caste had to do this, like, three-week purifying ritual after they had touched this person. So the story goes that the Buddha and his followers were walking along one day when they saw a man named Sunita, who was of the caste of untouchables. At the time of the Buddha...

[33:04]

members of the untouchable caste had never before been accepted into a spiritual community of any kind. But the Buddha invited this man, Sunita, to join the Sangha, and there was a big furor among the upper castes and spiritual leaders. So King Pasanati promised to go visit the Buddha and look into the matter. And they described this king... arriving like in the forest where all of the Buddha's followers were practicing. And Thich Nhat Hanh writes, as always, the serene and composed manner of the bhikkhus reinforced his faith in the Buddha. He passed a bhikkhu giving a teaching, radiating great peace and wisdom, and the king was moved by what he heard. And then he went and greeted the Buddha, And he asked, who was that bhikkhu who I heard over there? And the Buddha told him that was Sunita, who was once an untouchable.

[34:05]

So the king had come to ask, how could you possibly let this untouchable into the sangha? And then he understood why. The Buddha said, in the way of liberation, there is no caste. To the eyes of an enlightened person, all people are equal. Every person's blood is red. Every person's tears are salty. We are all human beings. We must find a way for all people to be able to realize their full dignity and potential. That is why I welcomed Sunita into the Sangha of Bhikkhus. The king joined his palms together. I understand now. I also know... that the path you have chosen will be filled with obstacles and difficulties. But I know you possess the strength and courage needed to overcome all such obstacles. For my own part, I will do everything in my power to support the true teaching.

[35:10]

I've been feeling a lot of gratitude for the vibrant and alive... discussions that we've been having on diversity, inclusivity, and the culture of Zen Center. And I think that these conversations and stories, for me, bring up the teachings on form and emptiness, on relative reality and ultimate reality. For example, reading that story of Sunita, The first time, I flinched a couple of times when the Buddha says things like, on our path, there is no caste. In the way of awakening, caste no longer exists. He talks about all these rivers in India, they all empty into the sea. They no longer retain their separate identities. I think this sounds a little bit like, I don't see race. And this brings up for me the trickiness of the ultimate and relative teachings in the context of race and diversity and inclusivity.

[36:23]

Ultimately, we empty into the sea, and relatively, there are causes and conditions. On the one hand, relatively speaking, Soto Zen and other Buddhist traditions are constructed human creations, affected by social and political trends, only accessible to certain people at certain times and in certain places. On the other hand, ultimately speaking, dharma is literally the way things are. That's one definition of dharma. Impermanent, dependent co-arising, truths that are available and accessible to everyone and not dependent on anything. These two perspectives may seem contradictory, but the teaching is that relative and ultimate reality are not one, not two. Both are true. And I think that the place where encouragement happens is where relative and ultimate reality are held equally.

[37:32]

When we can meet each other and acknowledge our differences and particular stories and the power they have, and also see that both you and I have red blood and we both have salty tears. I gave a talk a couple of years ago where I posed the question, how can we be a part of a tradition where anyone who wishes to can recognize and relate to the teachings as applicable to their lives, find some universal truth, some helpfulness, some glimpse into their true nature regardless of the particularities of their individual circumstances, the culture they come from, etc. How can we create that kind of universal space while maintaining a very specific tradition with specific forms and ceremonies and appearances? I've been reflecting on my experience over the years at Zen Center, times when I felt encouraged or included

[38:40]

times when I felt discouraged or excluded, and times when perhaps I contributed to others feeling either of those ways. For me, it comes back to that question I asked Fu. Are you okay? Am I okay? Is it okay to be who I am in the context of this practice and this institution? The particular way that these questions have come up for me over the years feels pretty insignificant compared to the experience of someone who may feel profoundly excluded, discriminated against, and unsafe. So just speaking for me, the questions have been more along the lines of, is it okay that I'm not speaking up in class? Is it okay that I can't chant at that low of a pitch? Is it okay that I go out dancing on the weekends? Is it okay that I don't like Dogen as much as that guy over there? Is it okay that I want to remain engaged in the world beyond Zen Center?

[39:45]

It's been encouraging and important for me when I feel skeptical about whether or not it's okay to be who I am in the context of this practice. to be seen and heard by teachers in all my complexity and fullness, to feel connected to them and their experience. And ultimately, there's something ineffable and powerful being expressed and realized within all of these specific forms and traditions that is beyond these forms and appearances. Ironically, Forms create a space for us to be completely ourselves in the deepest, truest sense. When we're all doing the same thing, our individuality and our personal histories melt away, and our true nature comes forth. Suzuki Roshi said, You have to continue until you find your true nature in your practice.

[40:52]

That is realization of the truth. At first it looks like you're trying to do something, But when you understand the purpose of practice, you will understand. That was my nature, and I didn't know. Sojin Mel Weitzman, again, this was about 25 years ago, he was giving an interview and he said, he was talking about the relationship between American Buddhists and Japanese Buddhists. He said, should we become more Japanese or should the Japanese become more Western? We can simply respect our differences. We can honor our Japanese brothers and sisters for being Japanese, and they can honor us for being who we are. This is universal practice. It doesn't belong to anybody, but it belongs to all of us. When I was young, I was looking for my Jewish roots.

[41:55]

I was looking for a Hasidic Jewish teacher and I found Suzuki Roshi. And that's what he was. It's true. I'm sure that deep down he knew it because where we met was the place where sectarianism and tribalism doesn't matter. So in our world today, when everywhere we turn there is tribalism, exclusion, war, and acts of terror due to difference, can we create a space that is welcoming to everyone who wants to be a part of it? A place that is part of this sectarian world and acknowledges the impact of this sectarian world, but where people have a chance to meet each other, as Sojin said, in a place where sectarianism and tribalism don't matter in the ultimate sense. As we continue in this peaceful ongo, can we always hold the inner work of facing and befriending our own personal fears within the context of the larger world?

[43:08]

Can we practice cultivating courage within ourselves so that we may in turn help and encourage others? That is our vow, and that's how I want to live and die. In honor of our Shouseau, I brought a Kabir poem. She's not here right now, but Lori, if you're listening to this in the future, what is the future like? This is called The Boat, and it's translated by Robert Bly. The guest is inside you and also inside me. You know the sprout is hidden inside the seed. We are all struggling.

[44:13]

None of us has gone far. Let your arrogance go and look around inside. The blue sky opens out farther and farther. The daily sense of failure goes away. The damage I have done to myself fades. A million suns come forward with light when I sit firmly in that world. I hear bells ringing that no one has shaken. Inside love, there is more joy than we know of. Rain pours down, although the sky is clear of clouds. There are whole rivers of light The universe is shot through in all parts by a single sort of love. How hard it is to feel that joy in all our four bodies.

[45:13]

Those who hope to be reasonable about it fail. The arrogance of reason has separated us from that love. With the word reason, you already feel miles away. How lucky Kabir is that surrounded by all this joy, he sings inside his own little boat. His poems amount to one soul meeting another. These songs are about forgetting, dying, and loss. They rise above, both coming in and going out. Thank you all very much. For more information visit sfcc.org and click giving.

[46:21]

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