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Opening your Arms to Practice

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Summary: 

5/25/2011, Shokan Jordan Thorn dharma talk at City Center.

AI Summary: 

The talk centers on reflections about the impermanence of life and the essence of Zen practice, illustrated through personal anecdotes and teachings from Zen masters. A crucial event from youth serves as an analogy for understanding life’s fragility and the motivation behind seeking spiritual discipline. The speaker draws on teachings by Suzuki Roshi to stress the importance of practicing Zen with sincerity and without attachment to outcomes.

Referenced Works and Teachings:
- "Way-seeking Mind Talks": A format of talks where speakers explore personal experiences leading them to Zen practice; forms part of the context for this lecture.
- Suzuki Roshi Teachings: Several quotes from Suzuki Roshi emphasize themes such as practicing without gaining ideas, the inevitability of change, and the significance of moving past self-centeredness.
- Zen Anecdotes and Stories: The story of Zen masters Baso and Nangaku highlights the concept of practice being more about sincerity and effort rather than achieving predetermined outcomes.
- Poem "Walls" by Constantine Cavafy: Mentioned as a metaphor for the barriers we unconsciously build, distancing ourselves from being present and compassionate.
- "Zen at Work" by Les Kaye: Provides anecdotal insights into Zen practice, including a relevant story about sincerity as the most important ‘technique’ in Zen.

These references underscore the main thesis that authentic Zen practice requires letting go of preconceived notions of achievement and immersing fully in the sincerity of one's practice.

AI Suggested Title: "Zen's Path: Sincere Impermanence"

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Transcript: 

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. Good evening. Hello. Hi. Hey. Welcome to the San Francisco Zen Center. My name is Jordan Thorne. And... It's encouraging and nice to see you folks here. Thank you. Two weeks ago on this Wednesday night, lecture opportunity, I gave what's called a way-seeking mind talk. And it seems a little echoey to me, but maybe I'm sensitive to my own voice. I gave a Wayseeking Mind talk, which is a talk where the speaker presents some of the factors, issues, things that brought one to practice.

[01:11]

And I'm not going to give another Wayseeking Mind talk tonight, but I want to start by mentioning something that happened in my youth that I could have included. But it's a little bit of a longer story, kind of a longer story, so I didn't talk about it. Previously, I have mentioned this because it's something I remember so clearly in my life as an event. And now I'm going to tell you. When I was maybe 12 or 13, living in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, A friend of my father's purchased a new Cadillac. And this Cadillac, there were no Lexuses, and actually in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, I never saw a Mercedes-Benz. You know, Cadillac was it.

[02:15]

And this was a very sophisticated automotive machine with a name that I couldn't pronounce, a Coupe de Villers. or something like that. And this friend of my father's lived upstate a little bit and for the night was staying at our place and parked the car in our carport, our garage, before going home the next day. You know, I was very impressed with this vehicle. It had those, you know, this must have been like 1965 or something like that. It had the fins, you know, the famous Cadillac fins that protrude. And it was a substantial behemoth with chrome front and back.

[03:24]

400-horsepower engine or something like that. It seated six people comfortably. But strangely, though it seated six, it only had two sets of seatbelts on it. Cars obviously didn't have seatbelts in the back or in that middle seat. It didn't matter because you didn't use them. Excuse me, continuing my rambling digression, I remember when my parents had a convertible, they would perch the children on the back seat, sitting up on the back seat, so that we could drive down the road sitting above the car. So no seatbelts up there either. So my parents and this family friend went out for dinner that night. and leaving me home alone to babysit and be with my two sisters, who were six and seven years younger than me.

[04:38]

Well, back then, at this time, and maybe this today in other places, but certainly not in San Francisco, but back then, when you turned the car off, you dropped the keys just below the steering wheel. My parents would do it. My mom would go to the supermarket and take the keys out in the shopping center and just drop the keys down. Or maybe if you wanted to be secure, you would tuck them under the seat. And a little bit after the adults had left the house, I peeked in the garage and sure enough, the keys were there. And giddy with... enthusiasm and a kind of excitement, with my sister Sue, we climbed into the car, me in the driver's seat and her in the passenger seat. And I put the key into accessory, ACC, and it turned on the stereo, which was more of a stereo than we had at our home.

[05:50]

We had this big cabinet, a piece of furniture that was called a hi-fi. This was surround sound stereo, beautiful to listen to if you were young and hadn't heard such things. And it had power seats, which I was not familiar with. I think it's kind of standard now, or mostly standard. And at the driver's seat, I could control it. power seats. And my sister and I were giggling as I made the seat rise up and then reclined back and changing the stations. And I turned on the windshield wipers and went back and forth, turned them off, tried out various things. Oh, it had a power trunk thing. From inside, I could make the trunk open and shut. I think Sue was actually... Who knows what she was thinking at that time, at that moment, but in my barely teenage mind, she was looking admiringly at me as I was doing all of these things, putting the car through its paces.

[07:20]

But something, a problem developed, which is that after a while, the power seats moved more slowly. The windshield wipers barely flickered. The radio dimmed. And I understood what was happening. The battery was dying. And I also knew the solution to this because I would always... When my mother wanted to go shopping, I always volunteered to start the car. I would go out in the driveway, and I'd start the car. It was very exciting for me to do. And I would practice my little driving. I'd back the car, sort of like maybe even from the driveway, go halfway out just close to the edge of the road, practicing for that day when I'd get my first driving ticket at age 13. And so I started the car up. And the power seats revived, the stereo came in strong, and the air conditioning, which just on accessories hadn't worked, now kicked in, and cool air flooded our faces and made us feel comfortable.

[08:42]

I was... Comfortable is the word, because as I was listening to the radio and sitting there in this seat, in this plush leather seat, I realized that I was feeling kind of sleepy. But it didn't surprise me, it just seemed kind of like right, because I was sleepy. And I felt kind of like a fog. descended over me. And I was sort of like not even surprised because it just seemed natural until I think I noticed my sister was slumped over sideways in her seat asleep as well. And that didn't seem right.

[09:45]

And at that instant I realized with a panic I understood that the carbon monoxide Because I had heard about this, you know, that we were in an enclosed garage, the engine was running and carbon monoxide was poisoning us. And with a startled kind of burst of adrenaline, I tried to kind of get up and it was very difficult, but I was able to. And I grabbed my sister, pulled her into my arms and ran out to the cool evening and laid her down. on the driveway under the night sky. And she was asleep. I didn't know where she was. I ran next door to one neighbor's house. There was nobody there. I ran next door again to another neighbor's house. The parents were home and rushed back with me. I said, help.

[10:53]

And We got to the driveway and Sue was coughing and moving a little. And as we kind of like leaned over and I don't know what we did, she woke up, opened her eyes, and I started to cry. I felt like I'd been really a fool, you know, stupid, because I knew better. Couldn't believe how close I had come to what I knew was, well, would have been a tragedy for me, for the family, for others. I don't remember this story all the time.

[12:00]

It's not constantly in my mind, but actually it's a piece of why I've come to practice, because of this event where I've felt so clearly and closely the fragility and kind of bare thread that we have, which connects us to this thing called life. How when you least expect it, no anticipation, you know, can come away from you. I've asked Sue about this. She doesn't remember. Actually, she got sleepy and she woke up. She doesn't remember this, particularly. She doesn't disremember it. It was not a significant event for her. She didn't realize how close she'd come. I told her, but now maybe she remembers for that reason. Well, you know, in... There's a Tibetan Buddhist text.

[13:05]

It says, to attain enlightenment, one must take birth in human form. And the conditions favorable to realizing enlightenment in this human life are based on the fact that we appear in a world system where a Buddha has appeared, where a Buddha has taught, where the Dharma teachings are available, where there are followers who enter the path of Dharma, and where there is support from the kindness of others, including senior spiritual teachers. And this world system that happens to include the Buddha Hall of San Francisco Zen Center fulfills these requirements. I really do believe that our human life is a gift, and it's a challenge, and it's something that we have a responsibility not to waste.

[14:12]

But we do somehow fritter it away, don't we? Fritter it away. One way we fritter it away is we notice the passage of time and what we haven't done. And now I've checked my watch to see. Yeah. Okay. Suzuki Roshi said once, he said, renunciation is not giving up the things of this world but accepting that they go away. Renunciation is not giving things up but accepting that they go away. And...

[15:14]

things are impermanent. There is the noble truth of change. Sooner or later, everything goes away, but we don't want to wastefully... How does it say, who would take delight in the spark of... Paul? Paul? It's a test. Yeah. The whole room. It's a test. From a flintstone, yes. And each one of us with our own unique spirit is like a flintstone, perhaps a little spark flickering, flying off into the evening Florida air. So as I look around, it's actually mostly familiar faces, I see.

[16:26]

A lot of familiar faces. And also some new or less familiar ones. And what I'm going to say right now is particularly for people who are new to practice, but actually it's also for me and everyone, which is that In the beginning of this thing called practice, in the beginning especially, it takes a lot of effort. And Suzuki Roshi said this about beginning in practice. He said this about beginning in practice, he said, quote, For the beginner, practice without great effort is not true practice. You must stretch out your arms and legs as wide as they will go. You must be true to your own way until at last you actually come to the point where it is necessary to forget all about yourself.

[17:32]

At last you actually come to the point where it is necessary to forget about yourself. Until you come to this point, still quoting Suzuki Roshi, until you come to this point, It is completely mistaken to think that whatever you do is Zen or that it does not matter whether you practice or not. But if you make your best effort just to continue to practice with your whole body and mind, then whatever you do will be true practice. Unfortunately, I skipped, I left a few words out there, and realizing that they're important, I'm going to say it again. If you make your best effort, this is at the very end of what I just quoted, if you make your best effort to continue to practice with your whole body and mind without gaining idea, and those are the words that I skipped over, without gaining idea, then whatever you do will be true practice.

[18:42]

And maybe, even though the whole thing is pretty good, I don't want to say, but this is better than another. And that without gaining idea is so critical to it all. And it's such a tough challenge, because otherwise, if we didn't have any gaining idea, why would we want to do this? Because, you know, anyway, I don't know. I'm not going to go down that road right now. without gaining idea. One day during the Zazen period, Suzuki Roshi said to everybody, spoke out loud, and he said, it doesn't get better later. I'm not sure if that's the good news or the bad news.

[19:45]

It doesn't get better later. Kind of depends on where you're at. And then on another occasion he said, in its wide sense, everything is a teaching for us. The color of the mountain, the sound of the river, or the sound of a motor car. Yes, motor car. Each one is a teaching of Buddha. Each thing is a teaching of Buddha. I've got a little bit of greatest hits of Suzuki Roshi quotes coming on here, so I'm going to continue and say. On another occasion, he said, Suzuki Roshi said, Buddha is very fair to everyone. You cannot escape from what you have done. And then he said, people don't know how selfish they are.

[20:53]

And I don't think it's selfish like we elbow someone aside at the smorgasbord. It's not just that sort of selfishness that he's speaking of. It's a self-centeredness. It's one of the most possible things to let go of, to stop seeing ourselves at the very center of what happens in this world. And what makes it difficult also to let go of it is that is there some reasonable truth to the fact that we have to take care of ourself and look left and right before we cross the road? Looking left and right is okay. But walking down the sidewalk in an active daydream is something different. And, you know, when I was in that car with my sister, with my hands on the steering wheel, I was in a daydream.

[22:17]

I was in a fantasy. of happiness. And I think we all are maybe, well, I shouldn't, I don't know about all, but I think that for many of us, the thing we know best is the daydream that we carry in our hearts that we never, that we find so hard to let go of. The story of how we really should have said that. to so-and-so, or how could they have, or what a relief, this day is over. And all these things we say to ourselves when we look to be quiet. That's why when Suzuki Roshi said what he said about practicing

[23:18]

with your whole body and mind, and he said, without gaining idea, without gaining idea, that gaining, that's without daydreams. That's practicing wholeheartedly without daydreams. We come to a Zen center because we think we're going to improve ourselves. And may it be so. We come here because we think that we can break free.

[24:19]

We maybe will be able to break free of this suffering we see around us and within us. If suffering is the word we want to use for it, it might be something more modest than suffering that bedevils us. But really what we need to know, I think, I say it's so tricky to say what we need to know, but really what I believe I have learned... is that we're not going to remake the outside world to satisfy us. Our effort is to transform our heart and our thoughts so that we arrive at a fresh place.

[25:24]

So, well, there was an Egyptian, Greek-Egyptian poet named, I think, Constantine, his last name Cavafy, and just like the Cadillac model, I'm not sure how to, is it just Cavafy, maybe? Constantine Cavafy. And he wrote a poem called Walls. Pretty short poem. He said, why did I not pay attention when they were building the walls? I never heard any noise or sound of builders. Imperceptibly, they shut me from the outside world. Why did I not pay attention when they were building the walls? I never heard any noise. sound of builders, yet imperceptibly they shut me from the outside world.

[26:39]

And I think we build so many walls that imperceptibly, without the sound of power tools, create walls that separate us from others and from being present. not just from being present, but these walls can stop us from bringing forth compassion towards other beings, which is another way of saying compassion towards ourself, other beings, other things. I think when I came to Zen Center and put myself into this training place, that I had the idea that I was going to become a new person.

[28:25]

That after Sashin's and who knows what else, that I would And what I want to say right now, temporarily, maybe I might think something different later, but right now what I think is that practice does not make us new, but rather it gives us the confidence to see ourselves the way we really are. which somehow we were afraid to see before or didn't see because of these walls, because of so many different reasons, because of the daydream that we just didn't make that extra effort that Suzuki Roshi spoke of to drop, to let go of.

[29:27]

This sort of, if I could call it a metaphor, of making a new self or fixing yourself through practice is a thread that some Zen stories use. And there's actually one of the very famous koan story that I think is just exactly about this. There was a great Zen master in China in the golden age of Zen, which I guess you were very lucky if you lived then. His name was called Baso. He was the father of many famous Zen teachers. He was respected as one of the brightest figures in our lineage. And his teacher, Baso's teacher, was Nangaku Eijo. who was a disciple of the sixth ancestor.

[30:45]

This is close to the kind of bleeding heart of the kind of first, the beginning of the unique Chinese Zen school. And there's a story about how Baso first met Nangaku and became his disciple. Baso was living at a temple near to where his teacher, not yet teacher, Nangaku, lived. And he gained some local fame by his practice of doing nothing day or night except for sitting zazen. In hearing of this, Nangaku traveled to visit him. And when Nangaku met Baso, who was sitting zazen all day long.

[31:47]

He said, venerable reverend sir, what are you doing? And Baso answered, I'm doing zazen. We're told. This is what I'm told. I read this. Didn't hear it myself. Then Nangaku said, well, what are you going to accomplish by doing zazen? And Baso replied, I'm trying to be Buddha. Hearing this, Nangaku walked away without a word and went over to maybe the corner of the courtyard and picked up a piece of brick and he started to polish it. Maybe with another brick. Who knows what he was pulling. He started to polish it. maybe with a grinding stone. And Basso asked him, he said, well, what are you trying to do by polishing that brick?

[32:51]

And Nangaku answered, I'm trying to make a mirror. And Basso said, well, how can a piece of brick be made a mirror, into a mirror? And Nangaku retorted, how can one become Buddha by doing zazen? Actually, one can become a Buddha by doing zazen, and one can become a Buddha by polishing a brick. There was Les K. who was a student of Suzuki Roshi's, and he lives in Los Altos. And I read this anecdote from a book, I think it's called Zen at Work, anyway, from a book of his last case. And he said that, well, first of all, Les was a student of Suzuki Roshi, but he also was very closely connected with a Zen teacher named Kobinchino.

[34:02]

He had come from Japan to help Suzuki Roshi with running the Zen center in its very early days. And... Les Kaye and Colbin Chino were invited to be interviewed on a public radio station down on the peninsula. And, you know, I can just imagine all the interesting questions that an interviewer might have had about what is Zen and Buddhism and things. And this was in, perhaps it was in the 70s. Sometime ago, it wasn't, not just a recent story. and then at one point Les K. was asked because actually when they were when Coben, Chino and Les were on this radio show what happened was that Coben didn't say anything and Les spoke gave all the answers and Coben was deep waters run still

[35:09]

And the interviewer asked both of them, but actually Les spoke up, asked him a question. He said, well, what technique do you use to encourage people in meditation? In other words, do you polish the stone? Anyway, he didn't say the stone. He said, what technique do you use? And Les replied with a pretty good answer. He said, we don't use any special technique. We don't have any special visualizations or steps and stages or mantras. Really, we don't have any system at all. We just give ourselves over entirely to wholehearted sitting. And at that point, Coben spoke up. And he pulled the microphone to himself, closer to himself. He was a quiet-spoken person.

[36:14]

And he said, we use the most important technique. We use people's sincerity. And this, I think, is really, truly the foundation of our finding ourselves to have a sincerity in our practice commitment. I could say what sincerity means, but I think it's better maybe just for each of you to consider for yourself, if you wish, what that might mean to you. How do we teach meditation in the Zen school? We use the most important technique. We use people's sincerity.

[37:17]

So, thank you very much. Thank you for listening to this podcast offered by the San Francisco Zen Center. Our Dharma talks are offered free of charge, and this is made possible by the donations we receive. Your financial support helps us to continue to offer the Dharma. For more information, please visit sfcc.org and click Giving. May we all fully enjoy the Dharma.

[37:47]

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