Good morning. Can you hear me all right? Well, my name's Ed Sarazan. I've been away for a month, the last three weeks in Japan. I see many familiar faces. It's nice to be back here with you. And I see some new faces. How many of you are here for the first time? Welcome. Welcome. I think the theme of the practice period is awake body, awake mind. And what I'm presenting today is jet-lagged body, jet-lagged mind. I don't know, for some reason I just can't seem to get any sleep these days, so forgive me my whatever occurs today. I thought I would say a few things about my trip to Japan because people have been asking about it.

[01:07]

I had, through one of our connections, a Rinzai teacher that I know from here met me in Tokyo and took my wife and I to Ngakuji, which is a Rinzai training temple in Kamakura, a very, very well-known, famous, beautiful Rinzai training temple. Actually, D.T. Suzuki trained there, and they have a special building where he trained. Anyway, because of this connection, I was able to meet with the people that were running a... 90-day practice period on Ongo there. And in the midst of discussing all the nuances and intricacies between the difference between a Rinzai 90-day training period and what we do here at Tassar and City Center. And, you know, they didn't speak much English and I speak no Japanese, so that made the discussion good. High-quality discussion. There was someone there that was doing a fair amount of translating. Anyway, at some point in time in the midst of that, the guy that was leading the practice period turned to me and said, you know what my favorite book is?

[02:13]

I said, no. He said, it's Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind, which I thought was very interesting since he's a Rinzai teacher and Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind was written by Suzuki Roshi, a Soto teacher here in America. And it made me realize... Of course, almost everywhere I go I meet somebody and say, you know what my favorite Zen book is, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind. So for you beginners, you're here for the first time, I might suggest you take a look at Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind. But it also made me feel some responsibility because I think, aside from the fact, obviously this was Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind translated in Japanese so they could read it, the power of that book is not only the teaching of Suzuki Roshi, But the fact that this practice that he founded here and that he guided in so many ways has become so prominent in America. And I think that's what sort of makes it influential in Japan and also adds some responsibility that we try to carry it on as well as we can.

[03:23]

So, of course, this was mostly a vacation that my wife and I were going on, so... the key thing about going in the autumn is the fall colors in Japan, fabulous fall colors in Japan, weren't there. The trip was carefully planned to be in Hokoni and see the fall colors across from the lake and Mount Fuji. Of course, it was raining the entire time we were in Hokoni, so not only were there no fall colors, there was nothing but... You went to one of these museums which had a special room that you could see the view across the lake to the mountain, and you could barely see the lake through all the rain. One of the highlights was a place called Adachi Museum. I don't know if any of you have heard about it. This was some wild entrepreneur who had been a peasant farmer in a small town called Yasugi. Just a real entrepreneur, made tons of money. started collecting a lot of art, decided he needed to build a museum to put the art in, a lot of really famous Japanese painters.

[04:31]

So he built this museum in his hometown of Yusugi, which is pretty much out in the middle of nowhere, and decided to build a garden to go with it, which he designed himself and built. There's a journal called the Journal of Japanese Gardens. This particular garden has been ranked for the last 16 years as the number one garden in Japan. And this is tough competition. You're competing against imperial gardens and things like that. So it was really wonderful to be there. I marvelously enjoyed the garden. I also enjoyed the picture of what the garden looks like in autumn. LAUGHTER when the red leaves are out, which they had in prominent display. So I'm kind of used to that, because my wife and I spent seven years in Boston when I was in high tech, and the whole thing in New England in the fall is, where is it peaking, you know, the colors in New England?

[05:32]

Never got there. Wandered all over Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, western Massachusetts. So... But I had early training in this because when I was 25, I went on an exploration in search of the truth. I bought a VW van and drove all over the western part of the United States and Canada, exploring all of the great parks, you know, the Grand Canyon, Mount Zion, the Southwest Desert Parks, the Sierras, the coastal ranges in California, Oregon, Oregon Cascades, Olympic Peninsula, up into Vancouver. And my strategy was to go into the, you know, I'd go into the park ranger and I'd be going for the most incredible part of that park at this time. You know, I was going for peak park experiences. I was very driven. I just would throw food. I had, you know, food underneath my car. I'd just jump out, go for a hike into that place. So I was up in Vancouver. I was sort of running out of time because I had to get back to graduate work at New Mexico and...

[06:37]

And I had heard about this marvelous place where all the hippies were hanging out on the coast of Vancouver. But also I had some desire to maybe go to the Canadian Rockies. I had to make a decision, gave up on the hippies on the coast and drove to the Canadian Rockies. Ended up in this canyon where this lake called Moraine Lake was and got up in the morning, saw my map, took a six-mile hike up into a little lake at the headwaters of this mountain. It was cold. There was nothing but rocks around. It was windy. I'm sitting there going, why didn't I go to that hippie area, West Vancouver? I'm sitting here alone in this desolate place with nothing but rocks. I was pretty bummed out. So I sort of dozed off. I sat down in a little small meadow that was there. dozed off for a little bit and then all of a sudden I sort of woke up because the sun was hitting my face and some butterfly was flying around.

[07:40]

Looked around at this pile of rocks in front of me on the other side of this small pond and climbed up on top of them. Started wandering around on this rocky field and I noticed there was a stream in front of me and on top of that stream was a whole bunch of rocks but the banks of the stream was ice. And I had sort of inadvertently wandered into the center of a glacier, which had lots of rocks on top of it. And I kind of finally woke up to where I was, you know, huge glaciers hanging off. It's called the Valley of the Ten Thousand Peaks. It's one of the most spectacular places in the Canadian Rockies. Moraine Lake is famous for the azure color of it, right? I was so bummed out, thinking that I was supposed to be somewhere else, that I almost didn't notice that I was in one of the most spectacular places in the Canadian Rockies, which I had all to myself. I spent the entire rest of the day wandering around, exploring it, the entire valley to myself.

[08:44]

So there's a story here, there's a kind of teaching, which is how do we get in the present moment? How do we get out of our thinking mind and actually... see what's going on in the present moment. Well, I chose a koan that's about that, that we're going to talk about as a lecture today, but I just thought I would give you the high point. And by the way, although I didn't see a red leaf in Japan, I got a calligraphy from a calligraphy friend in Kyoto. That was a calligraphy of a beautiful poem by Ryokan, which I will read to you. Now it reveals its hidden side, and now the other. Thus it falls on autumn leaf. I'll read it again. Now it reveals its hidden side, and now the other.

[09:46]

Thus it falls on autumn leaf. So I did get some fall colors in Japan. And of course I got back here to see the beautiful fall coming into Mill Valley. I was teaching some things about the Genjo Kohan down at Tassar a couple of practice periods ago, and one of the students said to me that he wanted to know what to do about this. He kept thinking about and wishing he was at the casino in New Orleans. He was from New Orleans. I guess casinos in New Orleans are fun places to go. I don't know. I've never been there, but I guess Brent has from his laugh. I won't ask you too much about that, Brent. But anyway... And of course, he was a man that, when he was in New Orleans, was driven to get to Tashara. But then as soon as you get to Tashara, you wish you were back at the casino in New Orleans.

[10:51]

Isn't that the way it is sometimes? As soon as you get somewhere, you wish you were somewhere else. It's a standard problem. This is a Kiroshi quote from him, from the Genjo Koan, the Koan of the present moment. You should stop comparing this world to another world, this moment to the next moment. We should live in the eternal present. Here you have eternal life in its true sense. So a very clear, simple teaching to understand and almost impossible to do. Okay, so this is a koan, a story from the eighth and ninth century China. This is a story with Nanshuan and Zhaozhou. Nanshuan was one of Mao Zedong's great disciples and a very well-known, famous Zen master.

[11:55]

And Zhaozhou, of course, there's many stories that he was a very famous Zen master too. But this is when Zhaozhou was a young monk. And in this story, he probably has been practicing at Nanshuan's temple for four or five years. I'm just going to tell the story of how Zhao Zhou met Nanquan. And this is that interchange. Nanquan said, where did you come from? This is the usual beginning of any story. Where did you come from? I came from the Holy Image Temple. Nanquan said, did you see the Holy Image? I didn't see the Holy Image, but I see a reclining Buddha. At that time, Nanjuan had been lying on his couch there. Nanjuan said, well, do you have a master? And Jiaojuan said, I have a teacher. And Nanjuan said, who is your teacher? And Jiaojuan said, winter days are very bright. I hope your good health continues. So this is obviously indicating that he had chosen Nanjuan as his teacher.

[13:00]

And they had a very immediate first connection, and Zhao Zhou stayed and practiced with Nanxuan for 40 years. And of course, one of the things you'd wish is your teacher would have good health for a long time. So this is a kind of ideal situation. This is the sort of classic for a student to be with their teacher for 40 years and really develop an intimate relationship. This is kind of an apprentice style of learning Zen. But it hardly ever happens. Suzuki Roshi's teacher died when he was fairly young. And Suzuki Roshi, even though I was at a lecture where he said, I am asking Buddha to give me ten more years, then you'll be ready. He gave that lecture about a year before he died. So we weren't so lucky in that way either. I sometimes wonder about this... apprentice style of taking 20 or 30 years to learn Zen.

[14:04]

It seems like in modern America you can learn how to be a meditation teacher in six weekends. I think we need to up our game here. Anyway, we do talk about that a little bit. So here's the case. So he was about 25 years old. at this time, pretty four years in the temple. He knew the routines pretty well, had all the forms down, was pretty good at the chanting. He was probably discussing nuances within the scriptures and stuff. And he came to Nanjuan and he said, what is the Tao? And Zhao Zhao said, ordinary mind is the Tao. Zhao Zhao said, should I direct myself toward it? Nanshwan said, if you try to direct yourself, you'll betray your own practice. Jojo said, how can I know the way if I don't direct myself?

[15:07]

Nanshwan said, the way is not subject to knowing or not knowing. Knowing is delusion, not knowing is blankness. If you truly reach the genuine way, you will find it as vast and boundless as outer space. How can this be discussed at the level of affirmation? and negation. With these words, Jiaojo had sudden realization. That's the usual ending for most of these koans. I think I'll skip the commentary and the verse for time and just sort of go on to the question. Well, as you note, Tao is usually translated as way. So he's saying, what is the way? And Dao in Chinese is one of these incredibly ancient words so central to the culture that it designates its primary religion, Daoism.

[16:10]

Buddha Dharma, when Buddhism came into China, it absorbed the word, so Buddha Dharma became Buddha Dao, the way of Buddha, the way of Dharma. And when it moved to Japan, it took on that same character as Chado, the way of tea, Kado, the way of flowers. And you're familiar with Tao. It's become part of the American language. But it has two main meanings. One is the way, the path of practice. That is, how do you practice? And also the nature of things, the essence of things, the true reality of all beings. So he's asking two questions. What's the true reality of all beings? And how do you practice? And I think, you know, pretty good because after you've been here for four or five years living in this temple, you're so busy practicing that you don't, you're sort of swimming in practice. So it doesn't occur to you to say, well, what really is practice?

[17:15]

Just like you, you're so busy living your life, you're swimming in your life. Why would you bother to ask the question, what is life about? deep in the midst of it. So, of course, if you're sitting here, some part of you is wondering what life is about or why would you come in on a Saturday like this and sit on these cushions and listen to some talk about life. It's a kind of, the act of questioning that asking, to ask the question, is the most important thing. To actually wonder, what is going on with my mind? What is going on with my heart? What is going on with my body? What is going on in this world?

[18:17]

And can I do better? So I appreciate any of you who have taken bit of time to think about that. But what motivates us to ask such a question? We're so busy, you know, just getting on with our life. On Wednesday, Christina reminded us that we're all going to die. Thank you, Christina. Very uplifting over there. I am close enough to that event that it strikes me with a certain amount of urgency. And I think it reminded me of this poem by Kay Ryan, which I like to read when I think about the fact there's an end to all of this.

[19:18]

It's, for those of you, just a reminder. I think everybody knows that the Niagara River ends in the Niagara Falls, and the Niagara Falls are... impossible to go over successfully. So here it is. It's called The Niagara River by Kay Ryan. As though the river were a floor, we position our tables and chairs upon it, eat and have conversation. As it moves along, we notice, as calmly as though dining room paintings were being replaced, the changing scenes along the shore. We do know, we do know this is the Niagara River, but it's hard to remember what that means. You got it? It would be good to remember what the end is about here. Sure.

[20:19]

Kay Ryan's poems are always incredibly short. and extremely compact. She has such a great use of it. She was the poet laureate of America a few years back. She lives in Marin. As though the river were a floor, we position our tables and chairs upon it, like you're on a raft. Eat and have conversation. As it moves along, we notice. as calmly as though dining room paintings were being replaced, the changing scenes along the shore. We do know, we do know this is the Niagara River, but it's hard to remember what that means. Maybe we can come to realize that the nagging thought that we will actually die is true.

[21:22]

And we don't want to waste one moment of our life. We don't want to sit at a bunch of dining room tables and somehow wonder where 40 years went by. So anyway, what is the way? That was his question. The Chinese character for Tao is ordinary, usual, normal. every day. No, the Chinese character for ordinary is usual, normal, every day. So what is ordinary mind? That's the answer to the question. Ordinary mind is the way. So it's reassuring in some sense. Ordinary, usual, normal. The mind that I have right now, the mind that I have every day, that's the way to practice? Just follow the ordinary mind.

[22:26]

So that feels kind of reassuring. It's with me all the time. I don't have to go to some far-off Himalayan mountain and climb up to 20,000 feet and do some weird breathing exercise and get into some trance state to get to the mind of the way. It's right here, right now. That's one side of it. The other side is, but wait a minute, that's this crazy monkey mind that's been causing all this misery and stuff. That's why I came to practice was to do something about that. So there must be something more going on here than that. Jiaoju is suggesting that ordinary things, speaking to someone, having breakfast, doing the dishes, driving to work, shopping, worrying about work, upset with a friend and so on, even anger, fear, crazy beliefs about who we are and what we should do, these are all things that are the way. these aspects of our mind are the way. All these things that we have limited and reduced by our habits of mind and by our conditioning, by our stories, are in fact something more than that, something possibly vast and deep and meaningful.

[23:44]

Every moment, whatever it is that you're experiencing, that is the way. we get rid of our preconceptions and limited ways of looking at this moment, we could find joy and satisfaction with everything, really with everything in our life. I think that's what makes Zen so wonderful, Zen practice. The recognition that it's not about special activity, it's about each and every activity. So, of course, in our temple life we put a great deal of emphasis on that. When you step into this room, you step in with your right foot on the right side. When you pass an altar, you bow to it. When you greet a person in the hallway, you bow to them, especially if you're in Sashin.

[24:47]

We have all these ways to remind you that the simple act of entering a room, washing a dish, eating, a meal with oreochi, very complex way to eat a meal. Everything can be a teaching, a route to the depth of your life. Whatever is in front of you can awaken you. As one of my good friends says, this is about honoring the depth and poignancy of ordinary human life. Our ordinary human life has plenty. We just need to live it, really be with it. So, okay, well, that sounds good enough. How do you do it? Oh, I just forgot. I just keep going on. So going back to the etymology of ordinary, we also have constant or eternal, the mind that is with us all the time.

[25:53]

heart of your mind is with you all the time. And for some reason I turned to case 86 of the Blue Cliff Record because this first case is not complicated enough that I certainly need to add another one in. This is the way here because we're not trying to get any real... We're just sort of wandering through this world of... But you'll like this. Yuman, another really good Zen teacher, imparted some words saying... Everyone has a light. When you look at it, you don't see it, and it is dark and dim. What is everybody's light? This is another way of talking about ordinary mind. There's a light in your mind. Everybody has a light. So you say, oh, I want to look at my light. But if you look at it, you can't see it. This is a nuance that we'll get into a little bit later.

[26:57]

One of the notes was, when you look, you're blinded. Because the light is invisible to you. What is everybody's light? What is your light? Everybody has a light in your mind. What is your light? So I'll just leave you with that. whole point of our practice is to know that this light is there and to have confidence in it. Okay, so back to our main case. Jiajo said, he's trying to find his ordinary mind, I'm reminding you. Should I try to direct myself toward it? What kind of effort do I make to find this ordinary mind? Anshuan said, if you try to direct yourself, you betray your own practice. You go away from it. My ordinary mind is the way and I can't see it.

[28:04]

What am I going to do? But if you go forward, you'll miss it. Blythe's translation of this little interchange was, Blythe was another translator of these koans. Jiaojie said, does it go any particular direction? Anand said, the more you seek after it, the more it runs away. The more you try to find this ordinary mind, the more it runs away. And the reason is you're setting up a division here, one seeking another. I'm looking for this ordinary mind. I'm going to find this mind, this special mind, this ordinary mind. I have a gaining idea, and I'm moving away from where I am. A part of your mind has separated from the rest and is chasing after a prized goal, this special ordinary mind. But if where you already are is where you need to be, anywhere you try to go takes you away from there.

[29:05]

Any effort to go anywhere takes you away from where you are. How do you be where you just are? Suki Roshi's comment on how you be where you just are is... You may think there's no purpose or goal in our practice. If there is no purpose or goal in our practice, we will not know what to do. The way to practice without having a goal is to limit your activity, to be concentrated on what you're doing in this moment. Ordinary effort is good for ordinary goals. I worked in high tech for 20 years. I understand how you've got to put a plan together if you can get this product released. It takes a lot of organization, a lot of future thinking, a lot of staying on goal. That works real well in the relative world, and one should do that with a lot of one's life. But if you're talking about spiritual transformation, your relationship to your mind and your heart and your body and your being in this moment

[30:15]

has to be more intimate. You have to figure out how to settle into your life just as it is without asking for it to be any different. To be able to find categories, settle the self onto the self. Just be here. It seems like the simplest thing to do, to just be here without any striving to change it at all. That gives one a tremendous capacity to accept life. It requires the capacity to accept life. It requires the capacity to accept everything in life, if that's what you're going to do. But only if you can accept everything in your life will you live a full life, will you be able to live with the suffering of the world. Xiaojou said, how can I know the way if I don't direct myself?

[31:21]

He's still not there. He's kind of getting it, but he's still not there. And this answer by Nan Chuan is just beautiful. The way is not subject to knowing or not knowing. Knowing is delusion. Not knowing is blankness. We know. We all have a tremendous view of the world based on our early childhood and everything, and most of the time we're pretty convinced that we know what's going on. But we also have a pretty good idea that we have only the smallest fraction of an idea of what's going on. And our confidence and our knowing is definitely a delusion. We need to have some skepticism there. This is what Hiroshi would say about our thinking. Not always so. Think so. On the other hand, to say that we don't know anything is stupidity. We know vast things.

[32:23]

We can put rocket ships on the moon and send people there and do all kinds of amazing things. And we can just even to drive around the city. We know tons of things. But how to walk the middle way between having too much confidence in your knowing and not taking responsibility for what you know, that middle way is the key here. But I love this one. Our life as it is, as vast and boundless as outer space. Who could imagine a human life? Vast and boundless as outer space. One of my favorite things, and I probably almost say it every other lecture, Sucrose said once, sometimes I think you think your problems are more important than than the fact that you're alive. Sometimes I think you think, do you think that sometimes your problems are more important than the fact that you're alive?

[33:29]

It's a misallocation of priorities, as we'd say. Everything that arises in life is always vast and boundless. If only we could relax for a minute and stop wanting anything and see what's there. Because we are busy looking for what is not here, the beauty of what is here eludes us. This is going back to my early thing of standing in the midst of one of the greatest mountain ranges in the North American continent and wondering why it wasn't on a beach somewhere else. Every moment of our day, we are in a vast and boundless experience of being a human being alive on a planet in a universe, and we're distracted by it. some goal that we have, some, oh, I wish it was warmer, I wish it was colder, this food is too salty, this is this, is that. So there's much more that could be said about that.

[34:42]

I might make a couple of comments about the commentary. Nanxuan lost no time in showing the smashed tile and melted ice where no explanation is possible. That's too complex for me to get into. It's commentary about all of this talking nonsense. It's just a bunch of ash left after the firestorm has passed by. That's how you should think of this lecture. And Mumon kind of makes a jab. Though Zhao Zhou had realization, this realization I talked about, he could confirm it only after another 30 years of practice, which is true. You can have an insight. We all have insights from time to time. We actually wake up to the fact that this is real and we're alive. But how do you take that insight and make it a living force in your life?

[35:45]

That's a lifetime's worth of it. effort to be awake at every present moment. I think that clock is early. I've got five minutes to ten. Is that correct? I think so. Anyway, this was Suzuki Roshi's way. Simple, everyday practice for his whole life. A life of faithful, steady, sincere practice. That's what our idea of enlightenment is. Practice is like walking for a long time in a slight mist. You might walk and walk and never feel you're getting wet, but when you arrive at where you are going, you will notice your robes are soaked. Just continue your practice, returning to being as present in this moment as you can be. So we are to the verse that Uman wrote, which is beautiful. Spring comes with flowers, autumn with the moon, summer with breeze, winter with snow.

[36:54]

When idle concerns don't hang in your mind, that is your best season. When I think of spring flowers, I think of the high alpine mountains of New Mexico, where I was raised, or Colorado. just so alive and beautiful. Autumn at Tassara, when all the sycamore leaves and maple leaves are on the ground and the full moon shines through the empty branches and it's like a golden carpet in front of you. So these are how we experience the beauty of the different seasons. When idle concerns don't hang in your mind, this is your best season. when you're not confusing your mind with all kinds of thoughts, crazy stuff, maybe you actually can experience the season you're in right now, whether it's a perfect, beautiful spring meadow or fear, anger, upsetness.

[38:04]

There's a reason what is happening to you is happening to you. There's a light in your life that brought that to you and what you have in your life in this moment is what you're supposed to practice with what else are you going to practice with that's what you practice with what you have you stand on the ground of your life in this moment what is your best season I was in Kyoto I had dinner with a Rinzai Zainabat that I'd met last year and had made friends with. He caught cancer since I last saw him and was in chemotherapy. He had great spirit, but clearly was not well. I spent the next day touring with a student of his who had introduced the two of us, and she was really suffering over his condition.

[39:09]

And I was suffering with her too. And then I came home and this week an old friend of my wife's and mine died, a friend we'd known for 30 or 40 years. And we suffered with the family, his wife and children. I'm at a time in my life when I end up suffering for many people. part of being 75 years old, I think. But I think you also suffer with many people. And we suffer because we love them. We suffer because we can love somebody. And I am glad that I am alive and can love and can suffer. For me, that is the best season. Thank you very much.

[40:13]

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