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. Good evening. Beautiful day here at Tassara, wasn't it? Maybe a little warmer than we wanted, but otherwise beautiful. So my name is Ed Sadezon, and I'm the abiding abbot at Zen Center City Center in San Francisco. And I also, because the three abbots of Zen Center rotate doing Tassar practice periods, I live the winter practice period down here at Tassar, so it's... Wonderful to be down here at Tassara and see many of the students that were in that winter practice period and also meet some of the new summer students.

[01:03]

And just out of curiosity, how many of you are guests here right now? My goodness. And how many are in the yoga retreat? So you're part of the guests too, right? Well, welcome to you all. How's the sound, by the way? We good? So amazingly enough, on July 4th, just about two and a half weeks from now, we're going to be celebrating the 50th anniversary of the founding of Zen Mountain Center. And, you know, it's such a kind of wonderful event this year that we're celebrating it that I thought I would say a few things about it because I'm not going to be here for that... That ceremony. So as many of you know, but some of you don't know, Suzuki Roshi was a Japanese Zen master who founded Zen Mountain Center.

[02:08]

And he came to San Francisco in 1959 and was the priest of Sakoji, the local Japanese temple in Japantown. But soon after he arrived, quite a few American students started sitting with him. and showed a great deal of interest in Zazen. And within a few years, there were so many students sitting with him that Suzuki Roshi said, we should really start a mountain monastery. And after looking around for a while, and they'd looked at several places, somebody found this place. And Suzuki Roshi drove down here and immediately decided this was the perfect place to build a Zen. monastery and apparently when he was driving up the road he got to the top of the road and asked to get out of the car and literally danced down the road in celebration so I think he originally thought about a place in the Santa Cruz mountains because that would be closer and this is pretty far from San Francisco but this place as you all of you who are here is pretty compelling in terms of its isolation and beauty anyway

[03:20]

They bought it in December of 1966, and a group of students moved down here immediately and started fixing it up because it was in no condition to be run as a Zen monastery. And according to something I read in the wind bell, it said, turning this wild land and old resort buildings into an actual functioning practice center with a Zen master, other teachers, and the right conditions for Zen practice was a job that surpassed in time and effort any boundaries we had imagined. At the time, Zen Center's annual income was $7,000 a year and cost $300,000 to buy this piece of property. So they launched a massive capital campaign, a little fundraising campaign, had Zenefits, you know. The Grateful Dead threw Xenofit to raise money, and they raised enough money.

[04:23]

And things were going along pretty well, apparently, except for in April there was so much snow on the ridge that the road was impassable for three weeks. But still they headed for that July 3 opening of the practice center. I was thinking about that this winter. We had quite a bit of rain down here this winter. Probably for those of you who are in California, realize that we had 65 inches of rain, the road washed out for weeks at a time and all kinds of things. And I was thinking, what a wild, crazy place to build a monastery and try to keep it operating forever. Anyway, on July 3, 1967, 150 notable people came down here and they had a marvelous opening ceremony and started an eight-week practice period. That was in July and August. I don't know if many of you know what a practice period is. A practice period is where you sit a lot of zazen and do a lot of work. And in the heat of July and August, that must have been just an amazing event.

[05:27]

Seventy students actually sat that first practice period. So I found an article that Suzuki Roshi wrote in The Wind Bell after that first practice period, and I thought I would share just a few words with you. Through the practice period, Buddha's way will become known in America. In Japan, only certain Zen temples are given the privilege of being able to hold practice periods. Now this indispensable practice has begun in America, and it must not be discontinued. Each year we must have at least one practice period. It is indispensable for the students at Zen Shenji, Zen Shenji is the name of this plea, Zen Shenji, Zen Heart Mind Temple, and for the existence of Zen Shenji itself. Strict observation of the practice period with qualified teachers and qualified students is one of the foundations of Zen Buddhism and is the most important reason we started Tassara.

[06:36]

So that was a big deal back then. This was the first Zen training monastery that did 90-day practice periods outside of the Orient. And it was established here. And Szygoroshi's wish was that we would carry on practice periods every year. And this fall will be our 100th practice period. We have carried on two practice periods every year. Now we do it in the fall and winter, not in the summer, for 50 years. And I feel that's... quite an accomplishment and I feel actually quite grateful that this place exists because as Sukurashi said, that is what Zen practice is. Zen practice is practice periods in a place like this. Of course, that isn't all that Zen practice is. Zen practice also is running a guest season. One of the Actually, the owners, Anne and Bob Beck, that sold us this place, stressed that they thought it was really important to continue running the guest season because so many guests had enjoyed the hot springs and light coming here.

[07:51]

And Suzuki Rishi said, well, that's good, and it also will help support the temple. And it'll be great practice for the students to do the service of hosting guests. And it's turned out to be one of the most important success factors of Tassajara. The students really love the practice periods. They're so intense, sitting 10 periods of zazen. Nobody comes in and out. They get very close to each other. It's really lovely. And then they have to deal with all this chaos of the summer guest season. It's such good practice for them, isn't it? They usually don't agree the first two or three weeks of the practice of the guest season, but now they're enjoying it. You know, bodhisattva practice, bodhisattva practice is, there's a bodhisattva vow, I vow to save all beings. That means you want to dedicate your life to helping other people.

[08:54]

One of my friends recently said, when you say I vow to save all beings, what does that mean? And she said, It means you're going to save all beings from your own craziness. View of saving all beings. Anyway, Suzuki Roshi went on and said a couple of things about practice periods, which I wanted to share with you. It is possible to practice by yourself. But when we practice in a group, we can help each other. And by practicing with people under the same conditions, we can eliminate others. self-centered practice. The purpose of group practice is not the observation of rules and rituals. The purpose is to obtain freedom beyond rules and ceremonies, to have a naturalness, a natural order of body and mind. To live in this world means to exist under some condition, moment after moment. We should have the flexibility of mind to adjust our being.

[10:00]

to these conditions so that when we do change our attitude or circumstances, there will still be a fundamental imperturbability to our minds and bodies. This imperturbability gives us absolute freedom and we should practice our way until we obtain this. Group practice is the shortcut to the imperturbable mind, which is beyond concepts of personal or impersonal, formal or informal. I love that sentence. Group practice is the shortcut to the imperturbable mind. We spend a fair amount of time talking to students during practice periods and guest seasons about all the trouble they're having with other students, with people. We can't help it. It's difficult to work all day long and get along marvelously with everybody.

[11:01]

But Tsukiroshi and our style of practice, which goes back to Chinese monastic practice in the 8th century, is when you work in a group, you really have to face your own craziness and work on it. And it's hard work, but it's the key to practice. So you work with people, you sit with people, you live with people. This living with people is such a great way to wake up to what's going on with you. I remember it was a hot day like this, and there was a staff meeting where the staff was complaining about, I don't know what they were complaining about. I wasn't in staff at that time. I was just a... you know, digging ditches out here. I was a new student moving rocks around to build the walls that are around here.

[12:03]

This was 1970, soon after the place had started. Back then, there was just a sense of such energy in the community, the building of this place, the establishing something new. Anyway, they were complaining a lot, and Suzuki Hiroshi had been quite kind of angry with them, so he gave a... a lecture. This was back when the zendo was down where the student dining area is. He gave a very short lecture and then said, there must be some questions. And one of the senior staff members shot his hand up and said, Suzuki Roshi, I've been practicing for five years and I feel bad that I just wasn't kind enough and still can't not be angry or something like that. And Suzuki Roshi looked at him and said, five years is nothing. You don't know how hard it is to love some people. Group practice. Sukaroshi's practice was to love all the people that were his students and all the people that wandered down into this valley.

[13:12]

And he actually was pretty good at it. He was what held the group together at the B. brought the sort of tremendous energy it took to build this place. So that's mostly what Zen practice is. 90-day practice periods with other students, running a guest student season, following the schedule, doing your work. But surely there's something more than that, and so I thought I would introduce a little koan, because I do have a little bit of time, a koan about what is this naturalness of mind? What is this imperturbable mind that Tzu Zikiroshi was talking about? So this is a very famous koan, and I'll read you the case. So Zhao Zhou was a student of Nanxuan, and he said, what is the way? He asked Nanxuan, what is the way?

[14:12]

And Nanxuan said, ordinary mind is the way. Zhaozhou said, Should I try to direct myself toward it? Nanchuan said, If you try to direct yourself, you'll betray your own practice. Zhaozhou said, How can I know the way if I don't direct myself? Nanchuan 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? And according to this Koan study, like most of these stories, with these words, Zhao Zhao had some awakening. I'm going to read a short passage. There's always a little verse that goes along with these koan stories.

[15:18]

And this is the verse. Spring comes with flowers, autumn with the moon, summer with breeze, winter with snow. When idle concerns don't hang in your mind, this is the best season. So, maybe it's helpful to deconstruct this koan a little bit. So, Giao Zhou was a... according to the story, a relatively new student, like many of the students here, had been probably around the monastery for a couple of years, was pretty good at following the schedule, learning how to ring the bells, studying the scriptures and everything like that. Busy with all that, but he thought, well, you know, what's really going on here? You know, what is practice? When we say, what is the way? Way, the original, that's a translation of the word Tao, you know, T-A-O. And Tao is translated as Dharma, the teaching, the practice, the nature of things.

[16:21]

It's many, many things in China, and it was kind of one of those things when Buddhism came to China, it started absorbing a lot of the Taoist terms. In fact, many people say Zen is a combination of a marriage of Taoism and Buddhism from India. Buddhism from India being the father and Taoism being the mother of Zen. Anyway, what is the way? What is the truth of life? What is the real practice? What is the way? That was Zhao Zhou's question to his teacher. Well, that's a question probably all of us have asked at some point in time. What's life about? How should I live a human life? What's the meaning of life? What's my responsibility as a human being? How should I do this? This usually occurs somewhat after you've left your family house and are no longer just doing what your father wanted.

[17:27]

At least that was my case when I quit living my father's life. I wondered, well, what's this about? Surely someone must have some idea about how to do this. So it was a real question, an earnest and a good question, a fundamental question. And the Nanshwan said, ordinary mind is the way. Isn't that kind of an odd answer? I mean, it seemed ordinary mind is the way. He would have maybe thought he would have said something like, there's a special state of mind. that after you've been sitting zazen for 10 years and have attained the sixth jhana of samadhi, there you will find the way. And you would say, well, okay, you know, it sounds hard, but it's not much worse than going to medical school and getting a postdoc. I'll get to work on that.

[18:28]

That's not what he said. He said, ordinary mind is the way. Other translations are everyday mind, normal mind. Your ordinary state of consciousness, what you're experiencing right now in your mind, is the way. Well, that sounds more accessible, doesn't it? Well, I got it right here, right now, right? I don't have to wait ten years and get to that tenth state of samadhi. Well, if that's the way, how come I... That's what I've been doing for the last 30 years, or 20 years, or 50 years, or I don't know how old it will be. Anyway, for some number of years I've been doing that, and mostly I'm pretty unhappy, so I'm missing something here. So, what is he talking about? And what he's talking about is, I think, actually...

[19:32]

ordinary things, and we see it in our practice here, the washing of dishes, the driving your car to work, the having a fight with your friend who's mistreated you, all these things, these simple activities, brushing our teeth, these activities, and your mind when it's involved in all these activities, that is the way. How can that be? How do we get at it? So, of course, that's the second statement that Xiao Zhou says. Okay, I got it. There's something going on in my mind. It's going on right now. That's the way. But I can't seem to get to it. So he says... should I try to direct myself toward it?

[20:35]

And Nanshan says, if you direct yourself, you betray your own practice. What? Sounds like some of that Zen paradox stuff that we always hear about. But I don't really think it's that case. I mean, we do know that most things in life can't be got at through rational, organized thinking. I mean, mathematics can be got at that way. I studied that for a long time, and we can get people to the moon that way. But can you actually figure out how to live your life that way? Even a cursory examination of what goes on in your mind you realize, especially if you're sitting zazen, that this is not exactly a linear activity. In fact, most of what's going on is some kind of, how can I improve this situation?

[21:44]

Why am I not happy about this? So I'm going to figure out some way to solve it. And you take this direct approach. And that works for a lot of goal-oriented things. If you want to build a house, you can get an architect and buy it. plans and you know you can build a house but for working on your mind that doesn't work so well it works sometimes like for instance if you're washing dishes and you're just sitting there daydreaming and you'll be breaking dishes you can just concentrate on actually paying attention every moment to what you're doing with the dishes, that will help. Limiting your activity to what you're actually doing in the very moment will help.

[22:46]

When you have a gaining idea, you're pointing away from your mind. You're pointing away from what you're actually experiencing in this moment. If you want to experience what you're experiencing in this moment, you can't go towards something in the future. You have to settle into what's happening right now. And that's a letting go instead of a driving forward. That's a stepping back. That's an easing into, a relaxing into what you're experiencing. That sounds pretty good if you're just washing dishes or if you're just sitting, you know, observing a sunset. But if you're suffering from some great difficulty, which of course our life is filled with these problems, it means going towards your suffering.

[23:51]

It means going towards your difficulty instead of running away from it or trying to solve it. It means actually experiencing your life in all of the different moments of it. So this is saying, at every moment of your life, if you're open to what's actually going on, there's a tremendous freedom and joy and imperturbability there, no matter what the situation is. So that's the idea of... So, Jiaojou still didn't get it. I understand that I can't just sort of... take my normal goal-oriented approach to it that I have to ease up, but I still don't get it. So what Jiaojo said is... Oh, before I go into that, I've been sort of wandering off script tonight.

[25:04]

I hope you guys, it's just one of those things. So I'll have to figure out where it was. Another etymology of ordinary is constant or eternal. So it's that aspect of your mind that's with you all the time, always with you. So in our mind, there's all kinds of different objects at any given time, different thoughts, different smells, different intentions, different visual things. But is there something that's there all the time? What is that consciousness? that's there all the time. And there was a poem in a commentary on this koan that goes the following. What our eyes see is ordinary. It does not frighten people. But it always remains like the moonlight on the chilled window. Even at midnight it shines on thatched cottages.

[26:07]

So like moonlight is one of these metaphors for consciousness or awakening. that's used a lot in these Zen stories. And I was thinking about moonlight, partly because the moonlight... We're in one of those times where we don't have a lot of moonlight here at Tassar, but the moonlight here at Tassar is so beautiful because there's no ambient light around for five miles. But anyway, I was remembering I was hiking in the Colorado mountains when I was young and crazy, and I was up on a 13,000-foot ridge, and the sun was setting, and a full moon came up, which was really useful because I didn't have any flashlights with me. And I was watching the moonlight drape the mountains, and it was so gorgeous that I spent the night hiking back. And one of the things about moonlight is...

[27:08]

You know, when it's sunlight, you see everything around you very clearly. But in the moonlight, you don't see things so clearly. It's more like the moonlight becomes the feeling of the place. And that's kind of like consciousness is that feeling like the moonlight that sort of covers everything but is easy not to see when it's daylight. When we're so busy, looking at things and doing things and thinking we miss. What is that awake mind that's with us all the time? It requires the kind of quietness of a night with the moonlight out to see one's awake mind that's always there, but you don't notice it so much because you're busy with all the objects of the mind. So maybe that's the ordinary mind that Zhao Zhao's talking about here.

[28:13]

Well, how do we get at that? So the next thing he says, how can I know the way if I don't direct myself? And Nanshwan says, 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? What a beautiful little paragraph. The way is not subject to knowing or not knowing. We're so used to knowing what's going on Especially, I don't know about you, but I have really started to get skeptical of what my thinking mind is telling me.

[29:22]

I mean, most of what, I mean, your mind creates a world that you live in. It's filled with stories of things that are going on. It's a whole world that you live in. And it's a very small world. But you believe it because it's so compelling. We're so convinced that this world that our mind has created, that our thinking mind has created, is true. So we're kind of trapped by it. So in this first sentence, this... It's kind of like Sukiroshi's beginner's mind. Having an open mind, a ready mind, a fresh mind is better than an expert's mind that thinks it knows a lot. Knowing a lot is kind of an exaggerated view of what's going on. But at the same time, he's saying, not knowing is blindness, or another translation, not knowing is stupidity.

[30:32]

I mean, obviously we know lots. So we just can't sort of say, well, my thinking mind, it's useless, I'm never going to think anymore. Well, that doesn't work. You have to think a lot to solve a lot. So somewhere in between having too much confidence in your mind and having no confidence in your mind, somewhere in there is the true balance. So then he says, if you truly reach the genuine way, you will find it as vast and boundless as outer space. What would it be like to live your life feeling like it is as vast and boundless as outer space? We now know, thanks to the great advances in astronomy, how vast and boundless outer space actually is.

[31:33]

It's huge, right? I mean, we got trillions of galaxies, galaxies of galaxies, and then somebody was telling me we have more neurons in our brain than there are stars in all the galaxies. This life we're living, this human life, is vast. This being a human being is, there's no way to comprehend it. It's unimaginable. And you're living it. And yet, we get so confined. Suzuki Rishi used to say, sometimes I think you think your problems are more important than the fact that you're alive. I mean, we have problems, it's true, but have we forgotten what it is to be a human being?

[32:37]

Do we have any idea what it is to be a human being? Do we have any idea the responsibilities, the possible treasures and joy of a human life? We have some idea because we've been living it, but we know there's more. than what we're usually living because we're so captured by our... Part of it is unwillingness to accept everything. This is a koan about saying, whatever you're experiencing, there is the treasure of your life. First of all, it's the only thing you're experiencing at that moment. In that moment, Whatever you're experiencing can liberate you if you're willing to actually live it. The famous story, when you become you, Zen becomes Zen.

[33:44]

Ah. I have promised the Tanto, because it is summer. It will end at 9.20, so I thought I would... A student asked Suzuki Roshi a very similar question to what Zhao Zhao asked Nanxuan, a slightly different direction, and this was Suzuki Roshi's paragraph answer to it. The student said, what do you mean by making the best effort in each moment? So I get it. How do I get to this? ordinary mind. What's the best effort to make in each moment? Roshi said, I don't mean sacrifice this moment for the future and don't be bound by your past life or try to escape it either. This is the kind of effort you usually make. But there should be a more important point in your effort. What is it? To stand on your own feet is the most important thing.

[34:55]

To sacrifice this moment for your future, for your ideal even, means you are not standing on your feet. So the most important thing is to accept yourself, to have true subjectivity in each moment. Don't complain. We do love to complain. Accept things as they are and satisfy yourself with what you have right now. You should think, this is the only reality, the only Buddha I can see, that I can experience, that I can have, that I can worship. At that time, you are Buddha. This moment is the only reality, the only Buddha you can see, you can have. Anyway, Lovely words by him.

[35:58]

So we should end with the verse, which sort of summarizes it all. Spring comes with flowers, beautiful flowers in the springtime, autumn with the moon, summer with breeze, winter with snow. When idle concerns don't hang in your mind, that is the best season. This moment in your life is the best season. I'd love to have some conversation, but I think I should probably end. Feel free if you run into me sometime tomorrow to make a comment, raise a question. 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.

[36:58]

For more information, visit SSCC.org and click Giving.

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