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The Practice of Asking: What is Practice?
3/20/2011, Tenshin Reb Anderson dharma talk at Green Gulch Farm.
The talk emphasizes the importance of practice in the face of life's impermanence and challenges. It discusses how human constructions, both physical and metaphorical, are inherently unstable, contrasting this with the idea of practice as a means of engaging with life's uncertainties. The act of questioning, “What is practice?” is highlighted as essential in navigating the continuous cycle of construction and destruction, urging a mindful approach to the transience of life.
- Dōgen Zenji's teachings: The speaker refers to the "essential pivot of the Buddha ancestors," emphasizing how continual questioning and practice allow one to see beyond constructed realities to the truth, aligning with Dōgen's views on practice (shikantaza).
- Traditional Zen Poem: Reference to a leaky straw hut as metaphor signifies acceptance of impermanence; the hut allows moonlight, symbolizing insight through understanding the temporariness of life.
- Zen Buddhism Concepts: The metaphorical river and road illustrate the interplay of flow (impermanence) and structure (stability), reinforcing a central theme of mindfulness as awareness of both change and construction.
AI Suggested Title: Practicing Presence In Impermanent Times
This podcast is offered by the San Francisco Zen Center on the web at sfzc.org. Our public programs are made possible by donations from people like you. During these 10 days since the great earthquake and tidal wave struck Japan, consequences of which spread over the whole world. It looks like another war has started in Libya. Military intervention, so far, is the language.
[01:01]
UN forces are trying to protect civilians from the Libyan army. American children or young adults are fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq. As I was coming into the hall, I saw our head cook, who just, I think, got back from Germany, where she was taking care of her mother, whose health was precarious. A week or so ago,
[02:12]
My spouse's car overheated and the engine was destroyed. Last night, my spouse did not come home. She stayed in the East Bay because her mother was taken to the emergency room with an infection, and she stayed all night in the hospital with her. And today, there'd probably be a surgery to try to clean the infection. But she's 94, and such operations are very precarious. middle of the night, the power went out here.
[03:22]
We sat in the dark this morning with candles and I wondered if I would be able to be heard if I gave a talk today. I've gotten used to electronic support. Can you hear me in the back? I can yell, though, but I haven't been doing it for quite a few years. I don't know if my voice would hold up. My throat is growing old and closing down. body is shrinking. Originally, I've heard, there is the unborn, in which there's not even in originally.
[04:54]
and it's like a river the river becomes a road and spreads out and covers the whole world or makes a world a firm surface the river. But because this road was originally a river, it's always hungry. It yearns for the original flow of events. On the road, there is then constructed houses and individual selves, nuclear power plants and skyscrapers.
[06:22]
The world is split into two. Self and the world. In order to have something firm to hold on to. But this whole constructed world is just imagination. And it was constructed so we could have something to hold on to in the flow, so we could anticipate, predict, and premeditate, which are very useful tools for living beings, great accomplishments of biological evolution. But we forget that they're just tools.
[07:35]
And when the road cracks and the houses fall and the selves change, we become anxious and afraid and stressed. We keep doing something to get control of the situation, to get a hold of something permanent. But everything is originally impermanent and flowing. So it's a constant struggle. In the midst of this, as I mentioned recently, in Minnesota, They say there's two seasons in the year. Winter and road construction. Or road repair, actually.
[08:40]
Because in the winter, the roads freeze and crack and buckle. And then when the roads are not frozen, they spend the rest of the year trying to repair them for the next winter. the midst of this constant construction and destruction this constant construction of self and the world into solid things and the challenge that reality meets them with it's hard to remember to practice what is practice? It's hard to remember to ask, what is practice?
[09:50]
When the car overheats, it's hard to remember, what is practice? When the great wave hits, or is coming and hits, it's hard to remember, what is practice? When the house falls down, when the memory's gone, when the health changes, it's hard to remember. What is practice? When a new building is constructed and looks so lovely and solid, it's hard to remember. What is practice? Even building a new meditation hall, everyone may look at it and think, oh, it looks so lovely and solid. It'll last maybe hundreds of years. How wonderful people can practice there. Yes, it is wonderful. that people can practice there. But what's the practice? And how about now? What's the practice when you look at a newly constructed building? Both in the coming of the new and the going of the old, it's hard to remember.
[11:05]
What is practice to ask What is practice? But asking what is practice, which is hard to remember to do, is practice. It's hard to remember. Even in the river, it's hard to remember. It's hard to remember. Even in the river, even in the flow of events, it's hard to remember what is practice, to ask what is practice. And in a way, it's equally hard or maybe harder to remember it on the road as we're building it and as it's cracking. As we're building the house, it's hard to remember.
[12:10]
What is practice? Because we're trying to build a house and put the bricks in the proper position. We're concentrating on building it well, which, of course, if we're building a building, building it well actually goes with asking the question, what is practice? So building it skillfully actually helps remember the question, what is practice? But it's still hard to remember to ask the question, what is practice when you're building it skillfully? Because building it skillfully is hard, too. It's hard to concentrate on your work. But concentrating on the work is compatible with, but doesn't guarantee that you'll ask while you're doing your work skillfully, what is practice? What is the way of enlightenment? Right now, while I'm carefully doing this, while I'm carefully making lunch, carefully cleaning the house, because when we're cleaning the house, it could be that we're trying to make the house clean.
[13:24]
Permanently. We're trying to get a substantially established, clean meditation hall. we try to make substantial things, it's very hard to remember that things are insubstantial. Not impossible, just difficult. Just very difficult. And then, of course, when the things fall apart, again, it's hard to remember. And what do we teach our children? We teach them If you build your house out of straw or grass, when the wolf comes and he huffs and he puffs and he blows in your house, he'll blow your house down.
[14:32]
And then if you build it out of, I don't know what the next material is, wood? Huh? Sticks. If you build your house out of sticks, when the wolf comes and he or she blows, And blows, she'll blow your house down. But if you build your house out of bricks, then when the wolf blows and blows, it won't blow your house down because you built a permanent house. And that's the thing to do. And get everybody in the permanent house to be protected from the wolf. Now we're in the house, protected from the wolf, but we're also now in prison because we can't get out. Not until what? Not until the wolf blows the house down, then we can get out. But otherwise, we don't dare get out because the wolf's out there.
[15:35]
So we're safe and trapped and scared and stressed. and it's hard to remember to practice. But then, a poem might come to mind, especially if you memorize it. And you can memorize this poem today, which I memorized, some time ago. It was less than 1,300 years ago when I memorized this poem, but this poem was expressed about 1,300 years ago, maybe. This leaky tumble-down grass hut or straw hut, this leaky tumble-down grass hut
[16:48]
leaves openings for the moon. Now I gaze at it, the moon that is, all the while it was reflected in the teardrops fallen on my sleeves. sense or see a crack in our house we may cry when we sense or see a crack in our body in our friends in our loved ones we may cry it's hard to remember at the moment of crying
[18:01]
to look at the teardrop, to say, when you see the teardrop, what is practice? And when you see the hole in the roof, what is practice? The power was out, but the room wasn't leaking. How nice it was to sit here, to listen to the rain rather than feel the rain dropping on us. It's very nice. When the crack opens and you look at it and say, what is practice? When you remember to wonder what is practice when the roof cracks open and the rain comes in, then we can see the moon. If we've been crying for a while about this house that's falling apart, it's never too late to notice the moon and the tears.
[19:16]
The moon is in the tears, the moon is in the sky, the moon is everywhere, but we have to look at it. We have to remember that it's there and not be just trying to patch the roof. It's okay to patch the roof, but can we remember to practice? We don't have to make the house fall down. It'll do that naturally. The I that clearly sees the practice is the I that clearly sees the truth, the moon.
[20:27]
This is called the essential pivot of the Buddha ancestors, the pivot of always looking at things in terms of how you can practice with them. That way of looking at them turns into the way of looking which sees the truth. What is the practice? Rather than, how can I avoid getting hit again? And how come you hit me? Or I hit myself. What is the practice here? Look at our new meditation hall.
[21:48]
Oh, isn't it beautiful? Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. We rebuilt this building in the 1990s to make it earthquake something. Earthquake something. Safe? Or what's the word after that? What? Earthquake proof? Earthquake? Resistant. Resistant earthquake? Sound? But I think it's something like safe, but there's also something like, huh? We retrofitted it to be earthquake something. And there's various words you can put after that, but one of the words you could put after was acceptable to the government. You know, as a reasonable amount of of retrofitting. Because even... Not even.
[22:52]
Because construction workers and city officials and government officials do know that it's only to an earthquake of a certain size, and I think actually the number that this building was built to withstand is less than the one that happened off Japan. I don't think this is... built for that size earthquake. So if an earthquake happens here, well, it's, you know, you can go outside, hopefully. We have more exits now than we used to. Or you can stand in the doorway or get under the tan. All these are reasonable things to do. But while you're getting under the tan, while you're going out the door, Maybe you could remember every step of the way. What is practice? What is practice under the circumstances of an earthquake?
[23:58]
What is practice when your loved one is sick or when you are sick? What is the practice? What is the practice? How can we remember that in the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune? How can we remember? Well, by remembering. The more you remember, the more you remember. But it's not... Your memory of practice is also not a permanent thing. So somehow it's happened that this building has been built for us to come in here and talk about remembering to practice. When the building falls down, the first practice is to say thank you. On the list of practices on the Buddha way, we don't have a practice called no thank you.
[25:06]
You can say no thank you, but you really mean thank you. We have the practice of welcoming insults But when someone insults us, it's hard to remember to welcome an insult. When someone tells us that we're unwelcoming, that we're a terrible host, that we're a stingy hostess, when they say that to us, it's hard to say, to feel and remember to feel or to look for, how can I welcome this insult? I heard that's practice. How can I welcome this power outage, failure, or some other words? Do we have a power outage this morning? Did we have a power failure? Did we have a power cut? Did we have a power reduction?
[26:15]
Did we have a power vacation? Did we welcome it? Did we welcome it? Each of us who experience it can look, did I remember to welcome it? I think I missed it. Then I remember to welcome it. Then we can start constructing it again. Well, it's actually nice to be in the dark. But then the next practice to remember is to be careful. Be careful when the house falls down. Be careful when you're sick. Be careful when... Be careful. Be vigilant. Be careful of every action. But not again to get back in control. But in the context of being generous, be careful.
[27:20]
in the context of practicing rather than trying to grasp permanence again. When you're trying to get things to be permanent and under control, it makes sense to be careful then too. In both cases, if you're trying to make things stable and permanent, control, being careful, goes with that nicely. But in a way, it even goes better with being with the flow and being with the impermanence of the constructions. It goes even better with them because practicing being careful with destruction, we're right on the verge of seeing reality. If you're practicing with destruction and trying to reconstruct, again, being careful is compatible with turning towards practice, turning towards looking at the destruction rather than denying it and trying to close the hole in the roof so you get rid of the moon.
[28:47]
But that doesn't mean we shouldn't repair the roof. And then be patient with the pain, the pain of the destruction, the impermanence that's manifesting in the face of our construction. Be patient with the discomfort of it. It's painful to have our body change, to have other people's body change. It's painful. To have the constructed body change is painful. And then, and then in seeing the practice in these situations, there is contemplating
[30:05]
enthusiasm. Enthusiasm about what? About the practice. Remembering how good it is. And why is it good? Because if we don't open the eye of practice in this situation, if we keep denying the flow of events and keep trying to confront that insult to them, with a more energetic attempt to control and construct. Again, it contributes, if we contemplate that, you'll see it contributes to stress, constant striving, anxiety, violence, ill will, Unreasonable desire.
[31:07]
Unwholesome behaviors. Contemplating that, we become more enthusiastic. We aspire to practice with events. Practice with construction. Practice with destruction. Learn to practice constructing without trying to make things permanent. Try to make things as skillfully as possible while understanding that they're going to fall apart. They're going to come apart when the conditions which sustain them are no longer present. And then what good is it to build things if they're not going to last? Well, consider that. It still might be good to clean the house, even though it's not going to be permanently clean.
[32:12]
I live in a house here at Green Gulch, and I often clean it, or anyway, tidy it up. And then some other people come into the house and change, and they act in such a way that the house becomes untidy. And one time those people went away for a while. And the house got tidied up. And it just stayed that way. Just kept being tidy, tidy, tidy. But I still was hungry for the river. And I wanted them to come back and mess it up. Because the messing up the house reminds you that this clean house is actually just a road on top of a river.
[33:24]
And really, it's okay to have a road, but we need the river because that's our first home. We are hungry to go back in the river. And living on the road is stressful. But they're not separate. The river is the road and the road is the river. And that's why the road breaks. No matter what we do. So when the road breaks, it's an opportunity to return to our true home. But we have to practice with this shock, with this destruction, in order to realize this.
[34:28]
Still, I wish to make a donation to the Earthquake Relief Fund. And I pray that the Japanese people, and I think they are, but I pray that they practice with this great challenge I see that some of them are practicing with it. And it's very helpful. And we can practice with it, too. Now, the airplanes are coming from Japan, and there's some above normal radioactivity with these airplanes coming from Japan in the luggage and in the people.
[35:48]
And public health officials are saying, yes, the radioactivity of these planes is above normal. However, it's considerably below what is harmful. So don't become agitated and take some of these medicines, which may be bad for your health. Don't do anything in response to it other than be informed. But they don't say, the public health people don't say, practice with this radiation. Wonder, what is the practice with this radiation? So, I'm saying it. What is the practice with this situation in Libya?
[37:03]
What is the practice with the muddy land and the wet roads? What is the practice? Be careful. Be vigilant. Yes. That's good. And this is a way to practice while you're driving. Not just to be in control of the car, to open your eyes to the truth. And that pivots right there. The truth and the practice turn on each other. The truth's always before us, and the eye that sees it is the eye that practices with, not the truth, well,
[38:29]
I shouldn't say not the truth, but the eye that sees the way to practice with the superficial, constructed world is the eye that sees the truth, free of our constructions, free of our constructions about who we are, who other people are. The eye that sees that truth of others and self is the eye that sees practicing with ourself and practicing with others. Being gracious with others, being gracious with ourselves. Being careful and vigilant of others. Really being careful of everybody you meet and being careful and vigilant of yourself. Being patient with others and being patient with yourself. Be patient with their pain.
[39:30]
Be patient with your pain. Be patient with their pain and how they express themselves when they're in pain. Sometimes when they're in pain, they express themselves by insulting us or accusing us. So to be patient with their pain, to be patient with their attacks, and be patient with the pain we feel about their pain and about their attacks of themselves or others or ourselves. And again, look to see if you're enthusiastic about practicing in this way. To see if you aspire to someday constantly practice with every situation. And also, do you aspire to be really calm and concentrated on practice?
[40:37]
And again, do you aspire to constantly question, what is the enlightened practice now? Now and now. What is it? You may get a response. People may say, it would be that you would help me right now. Okay, I hear you. But that doesn't mean you stop wondering what it is. The questioning is the working of wisdom. The answering is another thing to question. So that's a little bumper sticker for you.
[41:49]
Questioning is the working of wisdom. The answer to the question is the next thing to question. Don't grasp the answer to what is practice, but receive it gratefully and wonder what practice is as you get an answer to the question of what is practice. That bumper sticker got too long. It needs some edited way back to the beginning. There's so many songs to sing.
[43:06]
I wonder which one would be best for practice. Heaven, I'm in heaven.
[44:07]
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak. And I seem to find the happiness I seek when we're out together practicing cheek to cheek. Heaven, I'm in heaven. And the cares that bothered me throughout the week seemed to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak when we're here together practicing cheek to cheek. Thank you for listening to this podcast offered by the San Francisco Zen Center. Our programs are made possible by the donations we receive. Please help us to continue to realize and actualize the practice of giving by offering your financial support. For more information, visit sfzc.org and click Giving.
[45:15]
May we fully enjoy the Dharma.
[45:19]
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