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. So here we are on a Sunday morning at Green Gulch Farm on the edge of the continent of by the great ocean. Somehow we got ourselves here this morning. And so some of you perhaps were sitting the period of meditation of zazen right before. And maybe some of you were out doing various sorts of work at Green Gulch and are now coming into this hall.

[01:07]

And perhaps some of you just landed from driving here or whatever busy world you've been in. So however you are arriving, invitation to fully arrive. So whatever you're thinking or doing or wondering, what is it like just to stop? just feeling what it's like to sit on your chair or your cushion.

[02:15]

Can you actually feel yourself seated? That weight, the pressure. Feel that you have a body. Can you feel maybe your feet? If you're sitting on a chair, can you feel them on the floor? Or if you're sitting on a cushion, feeling your legs grounded? And can you feel yourself breathing? How do you know that you're breathing? And do you notice the quality of your mind?

[03:25]

Is it busy? Is it calm? What else can you notice? Can you feel the quality of the air? The temperature? Any sounds? And what does it feel like to be in a room with all these people? Maybe in the middle of that, if you're not aware of anything in particular, just a basic stillness that's always there. And then let me ask you, what brings you here today?

[04:38]

What got you here in this room? What was the small voice, maybe, that made some request and you decided to listen to it? What is your heart's innermost request? I'd like to suggest that altogether, if you will, take a deep breath in. And a long breath out. If you want to move a little bit, that's fine. And hello again.

[05:49]

So I think this is called a dharma talk, I think. But there's also a word in Japanese called teisho. So I was curious about this word teisho. And sometimes when you're giving a dharma talk or teisho, especially in a longer retreat like a sashin, people will sit in zazen. So as someone giving the lecture, sometimes people aren't actually looking at you. They're just letting the words come over and come through. And in looking at this word tesho, one definition I heard or explanation I heard was presentation of the shout. The idea that it's less of a lecture or class or even a sermon as some expression of understanding.

[07:01]

And then another place I was looking made a distinction between, on one hand, tesho, tesho, and an ordinary Dharma talk. So I don't know if this is going to be a presentation of the shouts. Or an ordinary Dharma talk. But even if it's an ordinary Dharma talk, there's something about if we open fully to what is completely ordinary in our life, it's truly extraordinary. And I was thinking also that whether it's a shout or whether it's a talk, I was remembering many years ago hearing my teacher, Tenshin Roshi, sitting here and saying that

[08:19]

at least in my memory, that he showed up in this role, sitting on this seat, prepared to speak, notes perhaps, but that in coming into the room with everyone's presence, something happens. If I were sitting here by myself, if you weren't here, I wouldn't be here. So we're doing this together. So whatever I bring, whatever I'm prepared to say, it's going to be different because you're here. So if I say something, you respond, even if you don't say anything. Or I say something, and then you're in some way, and then I respond. in ways I can't even track. And so we're each playing our role, but what actually is going to happen here is a total unknown.

[09:29]

Total creativity, total mystery, total life, total engagement. And I've learned that this helps a lot with nervousness around giving Dharma talks. But it also helps with everything else, too. So I've found when I... whatever I'm teaching or presenting, to realize that whatever I'm bringing, everyone's bringing everything to, and then it arises. So for yourself, whatever you're doing, and maybe you teach, maybe you present, maybe you give talks, maybe you just have meetings, or you show up, or you interact with people, whatever you're doing, you're showing up fully, Everyone else is showing up fully. And then there is an interdependent co-arising of life happening. So what happens if we start to look at our life in this way, that we don't have to do it and present and be a certain way, but we can show up, we can engage?

[10:47]

So this notion of a shout. Zen has many, many stories about people coming together in different ways and interacting. One person shows up, another person shows up, something happens, and there's a shout, in a way. And there's also a tradition in Zen of Zen tea ladies. Has anyone heard of Zen tea ladies before? So the idea is that sometimes there's a monk who knows a lot or thinks he knows a lot and he's going about his business and then he runs into an old lady by the side of the road and seems to have a kind of an innocent encounter. But then what actually happens is it turns out the old lady knows a lot more than the monk. So here's a story.

[11:57]

This is a story of Zhaozhou, a famous Zen master in China in the ninth century. And Zhaozhou is going along his way, and he sees an old woman hoeing on the side of the road in the fields. And he stops and he says, what would you do if you suddenly saw a fierce tiger? What would you do if you suddenly saw a fierce tiger? And she says, nothing in this world frightens me. Nothing in this world frightens me. So first of all, why does he stop? So he sees something in her. What is it that he sees? He asks her, what would you do? What would you do if you saw a fierce tiger?

[13:02]

She says, nothing in this world frightens me. And then he roars like a tiger. And what does she do? She roars back! And goes back to her home. Dadra says, there's still this. What is that roar? Does he roar and say, I'm going to eat you. I'm going to kill you. What does she roar back? I'm already dead. You can't kill me. And because I'm already dead, I am so alive.

[14:04]

And I see that you are already dead and so alive too. Hallelujah. And now we go back to Hawaiian. What if we lived this way? What if we were so dead that we were so alive? There was a little verse I read years ago. It's a master. It said, die while you're still alive and be completely dead. Then do whatever you want. It's all good. So what does this mean?

[15:12]

You still get to be you. But you get to die to I'm up here and you're out there. It's a great relief to realize I'm not up here, you're not out there. We're just it all together right now and always. I think Zen or Zazen might be roaring practice also. What is it to completely sit here?

[16:20]

What is it to completely be here? It's a really radical thing. I have the privilege to be in this seat right now and teach in this form. which is very close to my heart. But I also teach in a lot of other places too, in places without the Buddhist statues and the robes. And to simply ask people to stop, to be present fully with themselves, to be fully present with whatever's happening, can be kind of scary for people. What is it like when we're really here? What is it like when you meet someone who is really here?

[17:30]

There's another old lady Zen story to share. Dashan was a scholar monk in China who lectured on the Diamond Sutra. And he was on his way to share commentaries on the Diamond Sutra. And he was feeling very self-righteous about his commentaries. And on the way, he stops along the way to get a snack. And there's an old lady selling tea cakes by the side of the road. So he stops and puts down this very, you know, this is no digital thing. This is like you're carrying the scrolls on your back, however they're written down. So he puts them down. And the woman looks at him and asks, you know, what are you carrying? And... He says, Commentaries on the Diamond Sutra.

[18:49]

And she says, I have a question for you. And if you can answer it, I'll give you some pastry. And if not, you have to find your pastry somewhere else. And she says, the Diamond Sutra says, Past mind can't be grasped. Present mind can't be grasped. Future mind can't be grasped. Which mind is the learned monk? wish to lighten and refresh. And Dashan is speechless. He can't answer. So she gives her own version of a shout, but he can't shout back. So she sends him on his way to a teacher. What is this play we can do with each other of a shout, a turning word?

[19:53]

What helps us wake up? You might think for yourself, are there moments in your life that someone has said something and a door opened, or suddenly you could see the light shining in? Or are there moments when you've been that person for someone else? I remember a long time ago, I found myself in a monastery in Thailand. I had been living in Asia, and then I was traveling around Asia by myself for about five months. a long trip through Nepal and Bali and different places. And I ended up at the very end of the trip in Thailand. And I had just a couple of weeks left after this long, epic journey in Asia.

[20:58]

And my parents were very much looking forward to getting me back. I was in my early 20s. And kind of by happenstance, I found myself in this monastery because I... I had two weeks left. I was staying at a guest house near Chiang Mai, and there's some people around. I said, what should I do in my last two weeks? Should I go to, like, Thai massage school, Thai cooking school? What should it be? And somebody said, well, you know, there's a monastery down the road, and they have a program for foreigners, so if you want to check that out, you can do that. And so I was like, okay. So I took a little tuk-tuk down there to check it out. And it was a program, but it was a month long. And I only had two weeks. And so they didn't want to let me do it. But there was something there, and I kept asking, you know, I really, really would like to do this. And so they said, well, okay. So I went through the various things I had to do, put on white, had my own little room, et cetera.

[22:04]

And as the time went on, something... had this opportunity to start to deepen, I realized, you know, I don't want to go. I want to do the whole thing. But I was concerned about my parents, and I had two plane tickets and international flights and all of this. And I remember going to see the instructor and saying, you know, I want to stay, but I just can't, and da-da-da. And I remember he looked at me and he said, you know, you're not just doing this for yourself. You're doing it for them too. And something turned because he could see me and he offered that. And so I was able to call my parents and just tell them this is what was going to happen and change to international flights and all of this.

[23:08]

And I've always remembered that, not just for that moment, but in any practice. So whatever brings you here, you're actually not doing it just for yourself. You're doing it for everyone in your life. And then also, I can look back and see the places I missed. Someone was there to offer me a turning word, and I was too busy to hear it. Earlier when I had been traveling through Nepal, and I thought I wanted to go to India, I didn't have the right visas and things, and I was in kind of a rush trying to get to where I needed to go to get the paperwork, etc. And I met... on the street in Kathmandu, an American woman who was ordained as a Tibetan nun and practiced there. And we had some kind of meeting.

[24:10]

Something was there, some connection. And she invited me. She said, why don't you come with me to the monastery? And I said, oh, no, I'm sorry. I have to get in the taxi and go, you know. And I didn't even end up going to India anyway, right? But if I had been more there, I don't know what would have happened. That was a moment. That was an opening. I wasn't there for it. So noticing, can we listen? Where is the shout? Where is the churning word? And I think we all have in us this deep inner voice or small inner voice. But you have to get quiet enough to hear it. You know what I'm talking about? Have you ever heard that? And when you're quiet enough to hear it, what does it say?

[25:14]

What does it need? What happens if you take that step? And maybe actually coming here today is that step. And now that you're here, now what? Now what? And there's whatever you do in your life. So now you're coming here and you're in the zendo, in this special place where there's practice.

[26:26]

But what is it to be awake wherever you are and whatever you're doing? And so people talk a lot about mindfulness, about being present. in daily life, in your work. But what is it like to use the opportunity of whatever you're doing as a place of practice? So people are spending lots of time together in work or whatever you're doing. How do you meet each other or meet yourself in your work. As you may know in Zen practice, the kitchen is a very strong practice place.

[27:26]

And it's not like they're hired people who go cook for the people in the Zen Do. People actually share and take turns and all of these things. But when you're in the kitchen, Everything is set up to help you remember what you're doing. So there's a service in the beginning, just like we have services here in the zendo, with offering and bowing and chanting and remembering, dedicating. OK, this work, it's not just for me. It's for everybody. We're doing this together. And then as you're handling the food, how do you not waste it? How do you take care of it? In the middle of the day, cooking, etc., chopping, someone will ring a bell. Ding! Everybody stops, puts down their knives, takes a breath, and then starts practicing again, cooking again. These remembrances. And then if you're sending food to the zendo, if there are people sitting in retreat, then there's also bowing to the food.

[28:30]

It's an offering. And then a bowing to the people in the zendo. You're sending nourishment. You're supporting the monks. The monks are supporting you. And then, again, at the end, there's a bowing out. So this makes whatever you're doing a place of waking up, a place of generosity. And Dogen says, Cindy, who is the founder of this school, said that to build a bridge is generosity. To build a bridge for people can be practice. How do you meet people in your world in a full way so that you're present and they're present? How can each moment, whether you're hoeing or chopping carrots or writing a financial report,

[29:35]

how can that be a place of full devotion, of full awareness? part of awareness, too, is remembering some basic understandings, which is that everything changes.

[31:01]

Everything's changing. Everything's interconnected. And there's nothing to actually be able to hold on to. At various points in practicing, I keep coming back to just this basic understanding, this basic question of What is it like to be alive? What is it to be alive as a human being in this body, in this world? And the Buddha said, you know, given that death alone is certain and the time of death is uncertain, how then shall I live? Given that death alone is certain and the time of death is uncertain, how then shall I live?

[32:09]

And rather than numbing ourselves out or kind of putting that in the back burner or I don't want to think about that, what happens when we bring that front and center, start to integrate that into our view of the world? That's where the shout comes from. Because the basic difficulty is when we live... as if that's not the case. We naturally want to think things are going to stay the same. Things are real and permanent. I am real and permanent. We set everything up just like that. And then when that turns out not to be true, we suffer. So in my mind, the main invitation of Buddha's practice, Buddha's understanding, is to honestly, courageously, open-heartedly, warmly, bring that awareness into our life.

[33:17]

I am going to change. I am changing all the time. I am going to die, going to be separated from people I love. Nothing is here for me to hold on to. And that could sound really terrible, but if you actually go into it, The suggestion is this is very alive and even joyful. And this is the project. This is what we're exploring together. I think I'd like to close with, it's a poem by Robinson Jeffers. Does anyone know Robinson Jeffers? He was a California poet, lived in the Central Coast. And this is a poem called The Treasure. Mountains, a moment's earth waves rising and hollowing.

[34:24]

The earth too's an ephemerid. The stars short-lived as grass. The stars quicken in the nebula and dry in their summer. They spiral, blind up space, scattered black seeds of a future. Nothing lives long. The whole sky's recurrences tick the seconds of the hours of the ages of the gulf before birth, and the gulf after death is like dated. To labor 80 years in a notch of eternity is nothing too tiresome. Enormous repose after, enormous repose before, the flash of activity. Surely you never have dreamed the incredible depths were prologue and epilogue merely to the surface play in the sun, the instant of life, what is called life.

[35:27]

I fancy that silence is the thing, this noise a found word for it. interjection, a jump of the breath at that silence. Stars burn, grass grows, men breathe. As a man finding treasure says, ah, but the treasure's the essence. Before the man spoke, it was there, and after he has spoken, he gathers it in exhaustible treasure. Please help us to continue to realize and actualize the practice of giving by offering your financial support. For more information, visit sfcc.org and click Giving. May we fully enjoy the Dharma.

[36:30]

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