This podcast is offered by San Francisco Zen Center on the web at sfcc.org. Our public programs are made possible by donations from people like you. Nice to be with you. It's kind of a cozy Wednesday. Just a few of us here with all the things going on. Nice to be with all of you. Most of you know me. My name's Kodo. Let me know if it gets a little too soft to know. Do you think? Yeah, it's a little soft. I think we can adjust the volume. Well, I'll speak more loudly for the moment, and then we'll see what happens with the volume. So this is our first event post-Sachine. I feel a lot of joy every time I think about Rohatsu Sesshin every year.

[01:04]

It was sort of a ritual for me to do it year after year to celebrate the awakening of the Buddha and to spend seven days in silence and stillness with community. Okay, thank you. This year, the timing was such that I was actually away During Rahatsu, all of you were, those of you here in the room, many of you here were spending the week in Zazen. And I was up the road a little bit in Marin for the week as a trainee on a retreat. And the topic of that retreat is the topic I want to talk about tonight. It's sort of the Dharma I've been swimming in, and it's really on my heart. the the retreat was uh was entitled befriending mortality awakening to life through contemplating death awakening to life through contemplating death and the i would say one of the one of the main takeaways and the thing i really want to talk about tonight is the way in which

[02:28]

an intimacy with and a regular reflection upon our death, our mortality, this truth of life and death. It clarifies something for us, arouses something for us. And for me, for others, can make priorities very, very clear. So the team I was there with was, It was just a delight. It was Niki Mergifori, who was something of a specialist in that field, and her Dharma sister named Beth. And then a 40-year Theravada monastic named Sayadaw Ujabara. I had a lot of fun, actually, with them. It sounds like a pretty heavy topic, but I was all smiles for a lot of this retreat. And part of that had to do with the qualities, this group of people i think were well suited for the topic and what i noticed was this combination of heart wisdom heart wisdom humility and humor yeah humility and humor it's one of the primary pointers about a practice that

[03:55]

that is close to reflecting on our mortality is to maintain a bright mind. There's that Lojong slogan, always maintain only a joyful mind. I think it's maybe along the same lines. And I think it's easy to sense how meditation on death or reflection on mortality can easily have our minds sync. So starting from a place that's supported and bright and wide and open and well-resourced, and then into that field, introducing this reflection. It's an important place to start. So we started with this pointer toward the bright mind, and then also this pointer toward embodiment, toward embodiment, in much the same way that our mornings and evenings in Zauzan, our lived embodiment supports us and kind of softens us, makes us supple and open. I often think about how the difficult truth can enter us much more effectively if we have a soft, open, awake heart.

[05:04]

So the support of embodiment, the support of the bright mind, and then the third is the support of sangha. So just a few words about why this topic was especially appealing to me or relevant to me in that. In a phrase is the fact that in my own life, mortality stays pretty close a lot of the time. All of you in residence and probably many of you by now or online know that I practice with a chronic illness. And what that means is my body requires a very small dose of insulin every day in order to live. And if I don't have it, I'm always like one vial of insulin away from the hospital. I'm well supplied, I wouldn't worry about me too much. But there is something about having that consideration, always keep mortality close. And then in particular, there's a moment where this was really driven home for me, the sort of fine line that I walk.

[06:18]

It was a moment when I was living at Tassajara, and I didn't have any honey with me. Honey is like diabetic medicine. Bring the sugar back up. My friend and I went for a walk, and I was listening to him. He was having kind of a hard time, and I didn't want to interrupt him, but we started going up a hill. I started walking up this hill. My blood sugar starts dropping, and I don't realize until it's too late that I'm too far. I've gone too far, and I can't make it back. I'm starting to get the internal like red flashing light. Like, Oh no, something, something is, something is really amiss here. I'm looking at my meter and I'm like, um, okay, I could lose consciousness at any point now. So I communicate what's going on to him and make the decision. Like how, how do, how do you burn the least amount of sugar possible? I sat down and I decided to do Zazen on the hill while he bolts down the hill.

[07:23]

to run back to Tassajara Valley to try to get some help. So I'm sitting there, and it's evening, and I'm doing zazen. The moment I realize I'm really in trouble, I look over to my left, and the moon is up. The moon's rising, and I look over at it, and I see two. I see two moons. And I think, oh, this is it. This is it for me. This is, I'm going to lose consciousness and then I'll pass away. I'm sitting zazen and sort of just being with that realization. I'm not really doing anything, but it's a very strange thing to have that slow approach that's fast enough to know of death is coming, but it's not here yet. And then this question came up in my mind. It's like, Am I complete?

[08:26]

Am I satisfied? Is everything okay? Could I go now and that'd be fine? And an answer came, which was, oh, I really wish that I got to ordain as a priest. But everything else was good. Everything else was done. And something about receiving that answer has stayed with me. Yeah, so about that time, I see the blue... compost truck driving down the trail below and some of my friends barrel out of the back of the truck and I hear one of them crash through the bushes in Tassajara Creek and then some minutes later I see the six and a half foot man with the top knot and the jar of honey just like running with all of his might up the mountain and he hands it off like that's like the important thing that it was and gave me some honey and I made it He saved my life.

[09:28]

So I share all this just to show how our mortality stays close. Our mortality stays close. And so the topic of this retreat was relevant and up for me. So this resource of our embodiment is sort of like wide, broad holding of a difficult truth, like we're as well as the support of sangha. It's my experience that we need a lot of support in order to look death squarely in the eyes, to look eye to eye at death. And I believe that it's worth noting that we're very well supported to think about anything but. I believe Nikki was quoting Sam Harris when she was talking about this idea.

[10:29]

Consider all of the activities that we do during the day. It only makes sense in light of eternity. They only make sense in terms of assuming that we live forever. Like watching a bad rerun for the fifth or sixth or seventh time, or bickering with a friend or partner or something. Things that really only make sense in light of thinking we have a long time to live. And on the other side of this, I think of a verse from the Dhammapada. Many do not realize that we here must die. But those who realize this quarrels end. We stop fighting. But we're really well supported to not think about it. I can speak for myself and say the things that... things that tend to concern my mind is sheer net amount of time or things like media money work conflicts grudges you know the everyday suffering everyday sufferings of our daily life so we're well supported to really not consider it all that much

[11:48]

another aspect of this which is um which is something uh in a recent article in the london review of books called the death trades how much of what happens to our bodies after we pass is hidden from us or the the people who are intimate with our bodies after after we pass and what those processes we don't see them so i'm i i've been thinking a lot recently about how one doorway into intimacy with our mortality is to actually get closer to understanding what those processes are that happen after we die. But I'll just sort of leave that for your own consideration. It may well be for good reason that we deny or don't pay attention to our mortality so often. It's not easy. It's really not easy. i find that even even though it's been close to me often i forget just like oh living my life doing my normal thing um but i think again community can help us so one of the first aha moments that happened on this retreat happened when we were setting up some small groups and

[13:15]

It was introduced in this way where it was introduced by telling the story of Kisagotomi and the mustard seed. I think a lot of us know the story of Kisagotomi and the mustard seed. Yeah. In short, a mother is grieving the death of her child and carrying it around with her and she's lost. I mean, it's a really difficult story. I don't think the grief of a parent who's lost a child can be overstated. and in her confusion at some point someone points her toward the buddha and she comes to the buddha asking for help and uh in brief his response is something like yes i can help you bring me a mustard seed from a home of someone who's not been touched by death so filled with hope she goes to the village knocking on door to door first door knock knock knock do you have a mustard seed yes oh has anyone here

[14:17]

touched by death oh yes my mother my sister my brother second door same third door same and slowly she dawns on this this realization again not to like not to understate her grief at all but she just comes to understand this truth oh this is something we all have to reckon with this truth of mortality and death So the groups were set up with this story and the prompt was given, which was, what's your current relationship to death? What's your experience? What's your experience related to death? What messages have you received? Where are you at with it, more or less? And as I'm sitting up there, I can see a hall full of 100 people. We sit up and the bell rings. We start talking. And what strikes me in this way that's like body... body to brain, was there was no hesitation.

[15:21]

One, everyone had a relationship to death. I had my own mustard seed moment, right? Everyone had a relationship to death. And not only that, everyone had a story. Everyone had this narrative of their life and how they relate. So that really landed with me in some kind of way. I think it's well reflected. I was talking to a friend yesterday who called death the great leveler. I don't know where this phrase comes from, but I interpret it as like, no matter our background, no matter our class, our fame, our power, our wisdom, anything, for all of us, this is the truth of our life. So maybe there was something related to that that was maybe like that aha moment for Dogen Zenji when he sees the incense smoking rising at his mother's funeral and has this insight about mortality and impermanence.

[16:36]

But this sense of urgency and this sense of clarity arises. So we're well supported to not really see death all that much, but I I have a sense that Zen attempts to keep the reality of life and death sort of front and center for us. It's like, right? I mean, we see it in here every morning with the sound of the Han. Great is the matter of birth and death. All is in permanent, quickly passing. Awake, awake, each one. Don't waste this life. And that sound, that board, calls us to zazen smack it's almost like a call to that message every time the han hits now is the time to practice we don't know we don't know how long this life is so we have this support and then um something i'll get into a little bit more later is uh the tradition and the tradition of old and masters writing a death poem at the end of their life

[17:46]

And then, of course, one of the most traditional functions of temples, something we still practice here today, is memorials, memorial services, where we make tea and offer flowers and offer that up to Suzuki Roshi every month as a way of connecting with him. So I have a mentor that many years volunteered at the Zen Hospice Project and many years did a lot of silent retreat practice. And to my surprise, in a discussion with him, he said he was changed as much by his work in hospice as he was by retreat practice. That both of those were sort of fundamental to the person and practitioner he became.

[18:50]

And in reflecting on this, there's a thinking about the way one cares for a person or accompanies a person in hospice. It's like this full body of tension. It's just simple witnessing, being with, and presence in a way that communicates, I'm here. If you need anything, I'm here for you, and I care. It's a lot like our Zazen. And I think that practice ripens us in a similar kind of way. that's profound, I think, about the practice of reflection on death, meditating on death, is that we don't or can't dictate how it will change us or how it will ripen us. Zazen is much the same. We know that a reflection on death can sort of quell the hindrances or lead us into concentration or undermine our cravings and our aversions, but that's not a comprehensive picture of what it can do or what it does or how it ripens us.

[19:59]

how we grow through it. My observation on this retreat was that person after person, it was something in them shifted about recognizing what they loved and recognizing what they cared about and how they wanted to live with that. So I'd like to tell you a little bit of a story. About six years ago, I left Tassajara, and I had some very good fortune where I sort of landed in a Buddha land in a very literal way. May and I ended up doing some live-in hospice care for a friend in East Bay. And a literal Buddha land, because in several of the rooms in this house, there were these giant Buddhas. Giant Buddhas. What good fortune. This friend, her name was Hema. She had this beautiful garden in the back, and she was a social worker for 40 years and a Montessori teacher.

[21:09]

And she was dying of cancer. And over this time we spent with her, developed this very simple, beautiful bond. And something that I respected so much about her was her profound... Just like through some of the most difficult things that a person can do, I think. Yeah, I'm still struck by her. I wasn't there when she passed. I had gone to a two-month retreat, and about two weeks in, the teacher calls me into the interview room and says, Kodo got a call and Hema has passed. Hema has died. And I could see in his eyes that he's like, is Kodo okay? Is he going to be okay? When I heard the news, interestingly, what I felt in that still mind, still heart, still embodied, open, broad field, a smile came over my face.

[22:22]

I felt relief. And I filled with joy for her. It was totally unexpected. It wasn't like an enjoyment of her passing or something. It wasn't morbid, but it was the end of her life was so difficult. This is the sense I made of it later. The end of her life was so difficult that I was just so happy for her. Her time was done. Thich Nhat Hanh, of course, has this idea that, yes, of course we die, this life ends, and in some ways we don't die, we become the rain and we become the sun and we become the soil. You probably remember Suzuki Roshi saying he will become American soil. There's this other image that comes from forests, though, and that is... You probably see this in the redwood forests that are close by, or maybe like a big old oak in Golden Gate Park or something, where you see a big fallen tree that's died.

[23:36]

And then on the top of this fallen tree and all around and inside and under it, all this life is growing out of it. Like over the top of a fallen tree, you've got all these little ferns growing up, the mushrooms coming up with their little dirt on top, the bugs and the animals. this life that's being supported by what was this tree with the passing of this tree comes all of this new life like all these nurse logs i learned which makes me think of nursing mothers like this is nature this is this is natural this is nature the passing of this body and it going on to new life I think of Hema again and her actions as a social worker and as a teacher. I think of her as a nurse log. All of this goodness she planted in the world that grew out of her life and out of her passing.

[24:39]

We cared for her. She cared for us. She cared for the world. And in an unexpected twist, when I came back and it was time to... Rohatsu Sesshin was still going on. And in this room, we had a Buddha's enlightenment ceremony. And there are these red lacquer offering towers. And inside those offering towers, there were these white and blue cups. And I think what you don't know is that those were Hemos. And she gave them to me. And then they ended up on the altar. It's like that. Her little act of giving, so simple for her at the end of her life, ended up and what we might consider just like this most meritorious of offering places. So beautiful to me when I saw it. And we're celebrating the Buddha and we're throwing flowers into the air, chanting the Makahanya. And there she was. So Zen keeps our mortality close.

[25:51]

So this tradition of death poems, There's some little anecdote about a Zen master about to pass the monastery, and someone brings him ink and paper. And I think he quips something like, oh yeah, without a poem, I couldn't die. But there's this collection of these death poems in a book called Japanese Death Poems, the translations. And they are so full of just a clear-eyed vision of mortality, the bright mind, wisdom, and awareness, and that sense of urgency. And they're just soaked in truth. Like this one line by Basui Tokushu, I teach with the voice of silence. Dokyo Eitan says, here in the shadow of death, it is hard to offer the final word.

[27:02]

I'll only say then, without saying, nothing more, nothing more. Like really, can we put words on it? Can you circumscribe mortality? It's just too big. Or Giun, who says, in the heart of the fire lies a hidden spring. I'm always encouraged. This is one for Sesshin, for sure. Or Suzuki Shosan was paraphrased as saying, to no death, that is the entire Buddhist doctrine. And then maybe one of my favorites. This is by Kozan Ichikyo. In 1360, he passed. Translated as saying, empty-handed, I entered the world. Barefoot, I leave it. My coming, my going. Two simple happenings that got entangled.

[28:05]

Two simple happenings. And then again, hearkening to this is nature, this is natural. Lastly, Daido Ichi, 1370, a tune of non-being, filling the void. Spring sun, snow whiteness, bright clouds, clear wind. Just this. this way that an intimacy with morality or mortality clarifies priority, generates a sense of urgency. This strikes very close to the Buddha's own story. And I'm always inspired when I think of the Buddha leaving the palace and encountering an aging person, ill person, dead person, an ascetic, and this face-to-face encounter with death.

[29:19]

Something fell away. And something really turned on. That he needed to find a way to reckon. And that he did. So with the time we have, I want to mention something about a couple of ways of meditation practice relative to mindfulness of death. Of course, keeping in mind this admonition to maintain a bright mind. We have that as the broad field. But a way to stay close to mortality is to enter into that embodiment of zazen and that tuning into the right here felt sense of aliveness. Tuning into the breathing body and then dropping in the notion this could be my last breath and when that's done rippling this could be my last breath sometimes my my discursive mind has a hard time believing it this could be my last breath so a slight shift that i found helpful was my last breath there will be one

[30:50]

will have a last breath and it will be like this there will be an inhale there will be an exhale and then there won't it will be like this if that all feels a bit like uh too much doing then one other way to approach this before sitting down on your cushion for zazen or maybe before coming down to the hall, if you're hearing the Han, take a moment to reflect on the five daily reflections. I'm of the nature to age. This body's not gone beyond aging. I'm of the nature to grow sick. This body's not gone beyond illness. I am of the nature to die. This body has not gone beyond death. Everything I love, I cannot help it, I will be separated from.

[31:54]

And then I'm born of my actions, heir of my actions, arbiter of my actions. Everything I do, for good or for ill, to that I will fall, heir. The efficacy of action. And just there, I think, is the turn. It's like our mind is cleansed of the static of all of those concerns with contact with something that's real. Aging, illness, death, loss. And then this notion that our actions matter. They ripple out. They have an effect on us and they ripple out beyond. And without all that static, there's just this clarity that arises. Not only clarity, but a sort of... It's like it clears away some of the hindrances.

[33:00]

So something beautiful that's inside us can have its space and light and grow and flower unencumbered. Maybe one of the last things I'll share is one of the exercises of this last week. We wrote our obituary. We were, with a bit of humor, we were guided to pretend that a meteor was about to strike. And we were meant to write our obituary as if we were going to pass in 20 minutes. And it was the first time I'd ever done this. certainly inspired some sense of getting my affairs in order, but what I took away from it was the observation, after I was done, I realized that none of my ambitions and none of my accomplishments made it into my obituary.

[34:08]

From the perspective of my own death, it just didn't matter. It really just didn't matter. Rather, my obituary consisted of this long list of people I love and who've loved me. And somehow from the perspective of, oh yes, this is the end of my life, that was really the thing that I cared about. I don't know what it would be for you. is just a final word, which is, in this practice of reflecting on death, can stir up a lot for us, can stir up quite a lot. Knowing that and knowing we're all coming from different places, different life experiences, my encouragement would be, if you're going to take up a practice like this, to please take it slow.

[35:19]

Be gentle with yourself. Be kind with yourself. Have the support of friends and teachers. Do what you can to maintain a bright mind. And you'll know the practice is working. You can see, is mindfulness clear? Is mindfulness here? Or am I sinking and spinning? And if that's so, you'll pull back. And then on the other side, this little edge of discomfort, actually. which is the body and the mind realizing that, oh yeah, I am actually going to die. I think if both of those are there, that can be a good indicator. So I think we're in a good place. Zen keeps us close to this truth. I hope that's so.

[36:28]

I hope that's so. And I hope when we forget that we're not long gone and we can come back and support each other to stay close to what's true so as to be in touch with what's most important to us and live from there. Thank you very much. For more information, please visit sfcc.org and click Giving. May we all fully enjoy the Dharma.

[37:19]

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