Good morning, everyone. I'm going to go back to gallery view. Nice to see all of your faces. Do a little scan through here. Yeah. So I'd like to talk this morning and to share some of the stories, some personal, some historical, some mythic that are part of the research and writing that went into my book in the hopes that sharing these will support an understanding of what

[01:29]

I mean by a fierce feminine and how that the reweaving of the stories of the women who I'll speak to today and the qualities of this fierce feminine may support us, help us find our way through this dual pandemic of COVID and of 400 years of systemic racism in America. And I think I'll start with a poem. This is a poem from Izumi Shikibu, who was one of the most renowned waka-style poets in Japan.

[02:39]

And she was well known for her life of both passion and politics. She was, as a young woman, lovers with two princes, two of the sons of the ruler of Japan. And her early poetry is full of kind of passion and love. And in her later life, she converted to become a Buddhist. And this poem I'll read is one of my favorites. It's really an expression of her understanding of awakening. She writes, Watching the moon At midnight, solitary, mid-sky, I knew myself completely, no part left out.

[03:42]

I knew myself completely, no part left out. I love this expression of awakening in its kind of wholehearted feeling of inclusivity, of fullness, of wholeness that she expresses. And as I was preparing for this talk, I was reflecting on my own early days coming to Zen Center. And remembering how I arrived at the doors of Zen Center quite world weary, in a way really quite sad, confused, trying to make sense of the suffering that I felt inside me and saw all around me.

[04:52]

And even though I remember when I arrived, I thought that the people who I met were sort of strange, you know, with bald heads and strange costumes. I was so moved by the teachings, by the practice, and by this tremendous sense of welcoming. Really full invitation. For me, I felt so deeply how all of me, you know, the sad parts, the scared parts, the confused parts, were all invited in. And this invitation, this welcome, was so deeply healing for me and continues to be.

[06:01]

And I was reflecting how it is very much my wish that these teachings and practices will become increasingly open and welcome and inviting to more and more people so that others like me can experience this kind of profound inclusion, including all of our parts. So I lived at Zen Center at Green Gulch Farm in Tassajara for about five years. 1987 through 1992. And I left when I did because I fell in love and met my now husband, Eugene, and went back into the world.

[07:14]

One of my favorite parts of the practice, many of you I assume know well, while I lived at Zen Center was the practice of chanting and bowing to the lineage. I had, as a young woman, I had a very, kind of very logical, rigid in many ways, mind. And yet there was something about that practice of reciting these names and bowing forehead to the floor, lifting the hands. That showed me something about a quality of teaching that was not so logical, not so linear, but deeply impactful.

[08:21]

And I remember how I felt and feel still today this... The feeling of all those beings who go back and back and back, 2,600 years, all those Dayoshos, who literally I felt like they had and have my back. I felt this deep sense of belonging, not just to the community that I entered, but to this long tradition and history. How much I loved saying their names, bowing, acknowledging, thanking. How I loved learning their stories. It was a lot of what we did when I spent the years I did at Zen Center. I was studying the stories of these ancestors.

[09:26]

And how they were sort of quirky things. And they weren't polished. They had distinct personalities. They got confused. They struggled. Just like me. They were real people. And how I found inspiration in the ways in which they woke up. In which they found their slice of freedom. So about maybe two years or so after I left Zen Center, I was invited to come back for a part of a practice period at Tassajara. And it was very vivid, you know, that cool, dark morning, early service, the bowing and chanting.

[10:33]

the sound of the bell, like we just were hearing now. And at the end of doing the recitation of the dio shows of the ancestors, this new chant was announced, new to me, probably not new to many of you anymore. But it was the first time I had heard the introduction of the women ancestors. And I was very surprised. And I remember, you know, I had the daishas memorized. They were in my body, you know. But the women's names, the acharyas, I didn't know. And I couldn't find them in the book. Frantically, some of you may have that experience, looking through the chant book, trying to find the page. And I remember I just gave up. I closed the book and I put it down. And I just listened. As the voices in the hall recited the names of all these women. And when the recitation ended, I burst into tears.

[11:43]

Sometimes we don't know the parts left out. We don't know what we're missing until it's right in front of us. Or, in my case, until these names were literally ringing in. my ears. And in some ways, that event was one of the things that inspired me to write the book that I did. And I do think it's worth doing a call out here because I'm not the first one to kind of dig and search and find the stories of these women practitioners. I'm pretty sure, at least what I remember at the time, that that recitation of the names came out of a class that had been taught by Linda Ruth Cutts.

[12:50]

And that in the course of this class, she and the students in the class did the research to find, to recover, to reclaim these names and the stories that went with them. And there are, in many Buddhist traditions, but certainly in the Zen tradition, Susan Moon and Florence Kaplow, Grace Shearson, there are others who've written accounts of women teachers in Zen. And the same is true in other traditions. So I'm grateful to those who have done some of that work and whose work I... my own history, my own telling stands on. History is very much shaped by those who recount it, by those who write it down.

[14:01]

And many of you may know that the early Buddhist teachings for hundreds of years were passed along in an oral tradition. So nothing was written down. It was passed along through recitation and memorization. And when the teachings were first written down, that was done by male monastic scribes. who, as is often the case, held positions of power and privilege, and so the history that they recorded was shaped by their perspective, by what they included, and by what they left out. And if you read those early texts, as I have, you will see that they are shot through with misogyny, And that the women, if they're included at all, kind of flit around the edges of the stories of the life of the Buddha like shadows.

[15:13]

One of the least encountered women in the history of the life of the Buddha was his wife, Yasodhara. In the early texts, she's often not even referred to by her name. She's just called the mother of Rahula, who was the son of Gautama and Yasodhara. And when I did, when I was writing my book and I was learning a bit, just a little bit, about the history of these women, I ended up telling their stories as historical fiction. I learned as much as I could about them and then retold their stories in first person because so little is actually known about them.

[16:30]

So little of their stories are told. in their own voices. So it's interesting, I think, that much is made of what the Buddha said. And we know that we, in this spirit of resting back into this long lineage of ancestors, we rest on these astonishing, beautiful, profound teachings. Buddha is known mostly as a great sage, as a great spiritual teacher. But I think it's useful to consider not just what the Buddha said, but also what the Buddha did. In many ways,

[17:33]

In addition to being a great sage, the Buddha was also a social revolutionary. He created a sangha, a community, that was very much a kind of subculture within the time and place in which he lived, where Culture was marked by a strict caste system. And one was born into a caste, and that became essentially one's fate. And in his own sangha, the Buddha changed that. Whatever caste one was from, they were welcomed. They were, perhaps as I felt, wholeheartedly invited in.

[18:39]

It is painful in many ways to recognize how little has changed. How the caste system then, which was, doing more research about this, it was then very much based on skin color. How that same caste system continues, persists today. So my hope is that by offering some teachings, these reweavings of these stories of some of the women, that we can learn something about how to dismantle these systems of oppression, of racism, of violence, and

[20:04]

give birth to communities, systems, institutions that are, as Izumi Shikigu suggested, more inclusive, just as the Buddha did. Many of you know the beautiful phrase, from Dogen Zenji who says, to study the Buddha way is to study the self. Part of our studying of our self as we sit is not just to sit and find a sense of peace and contentment, but to actually turn and face, to be present with our own body, heart, mind, with the

[21:05]

histories that shaped us. With the understanding that until we face, until we see and see through our own karma, our own karmic lineage, then we remain bound. And in the same way that that's true for us individually, the same is true for us collectively. that if we don't turn and face our collective history, we remain bound. There's a beautiful quote from one of my great heroes. I think of him as a great bodhisattva, Bryan Stevenson. He's the founder of the Equal Justice Initiative.

[22:08]

And he says, I should say a little, for those of you who don't know who he is, he spent his lifetime looking to dismantle systems of oppression and specifically to bring to light parts of American history that have been shrouded, that have been overlooked, that have been ignored in many ways. And he says, I don't ask America to turn and face its history because I want to punish America, but because I want to liberate America. If we're not willing to turn and look, we can't be free. He has another quote, which is my current favorite.

[23:14]

And it describes in some way the real dilemma that we face, that even if we dismantle the systems, the structures, that there is a kind of deeper dismantling that needs to happen in our own hearts and minds. And he says, even though, speaking of the Civil War here, he says, even though the North won the war, the South won the narrative. That even though we know that there are changes in laws and so on that happen very slowly in the United States, that the narrative, and really he's speaking to the underlying narrative of white supremacy, which is just to say that white bodies are considered the standard against which everything else is measured as less.

[24:28]

And all of the harm that comes from that for everyone. So as I said at the beginning, I want to share in particular a couple of stories really focusing on Pajapati, who was the Buddha's aunt, as an example, as an embodiment really of the fierce feminine and as a way to help us begin to see our way through. to discover how we too, or to discover what's needed for us too, individually and collectively, to face our individual and collective histories, and to work as our bodhisattva vows demand, suggest, invite, however you want to say it, how those vows point us toward

[25:45]

liberation, not just for me, but for all beings. With this deep understanding of our interconnectedness, this deep understanding that I can't wake up and be free while other people suffer. This is so much at the heart of this practice. And there's been in many, many ways the kind of, that teaching in particular, The archetype of the bodhisattva and the bodhisattva vows have been since 30 plus years ago when I arrived as a sad, scared, confused young woman. That has been very much my compass. It has informed everything I've done since then. So Pajapati was the Buddha's aunt.

[26:53]

And as many of you may know, his mother, Maya, died very soon after he was born, perhaps of complications of childbirth. And so she raised him as her own son. And I'll read to you a poem that really expresses both her compassion, her deep compassion, and also her wisdom. And this poem is from a book that is a recent translation of the Terigata, the poems of the awakening women who became eventually part of the Sangha, which I'll speak to a little bit how that happened in a few moments. But first, this poem from Maha Pajapati. You know, Maha is great. So before she joined the Sangha, she was known as Pajapati. And when she eventually became the founder of the nun Sangha, her name was changed.

[27:58]

She became Maha Pajapati. Her poem is called Protector of Children. And this is written late in her life. I'll just say that, for me, this poem very much expresses this concept in Zen of ro bai shim, this grandmotherly mind, this deep heart of care and compassion for all beings. So here are her words. I know you all. I have been your mother, your son, your father, your daughter. You see me now in my final role, kindly grandmother.

[29:02]

It's a fine part to go out on. You might have heard how it all began, how when my sister died and I took her newborn son to raise as my own, people still ask, did you know then what he would become? What can I say? What mother doesn't see a Buddha? in her child. What can I say? What mother doesn't see a Buddha in her child? He was such a quiet boy. The first time he reached for me. The first time I held him while he slept.

[30:03]

How could I not know? care for all children without exception, to care for all children without exception, as though each will someday be the one to show us all the way home. This is the path. She was an exceptional woman, as you can hear in her words. But she was not only a kindly maternal figure or grandmother with a big heart and a compassionate vision. She was also steely, gritty,

[31:09]

resolute. And in the story of the founding of the nun Sangha, and I will say as a caveat here that this story probably tips more into myth than it does history. And there's been some recent research in particular by Venerable Analyo who has kind of said that it's very unlikely that the story I'm about to tell actually happened. I do want to say that out loud, but also to say that real history, history that's recorded, which is always partial, and mythic story, they're both different kinds of truth. And that mythic story points us to something about our potential as human beings. So I invite you to listen to this story with that perspective.

[32:18]

So the story goes that Pajapati traveled hundreds of miles multiple times to beg the Buddha for admittance into the Sangha. And traditionally it's said that three times she asks him and three times He says no. And in mythic language, three times basically means a lot, many. And there's beautiful language if you look closely at the story, which is that she comes and asks the Buddha to please be allowed to join a life of homelessness, to join his community. And he says, no. Do not set your heart on this pajapati. Do not set your heart on this pajapati.

[33:19]

But her heart is set. So she is in this way embodying not just this kindly, compassionate heart, but a firm, resolute heart. She doesn't crumble in the face of the difficulty, in the face of multiple rejections. She stays true to her path. And the story goes that in the third time she comes to ask, she brings a crowd of women with her and that they have all walked barefoot, through the dust, hundreds of miles. And then after she is rejected this third time from the Buddha, that these women are gathered outside the gates of the community.

[34:24]

And Ananda, who is the Buddha's attendant, hears their cries. And I think this is an important piece to underscore because Ananda is a very interesting character. He was the Buddha's cousin and a lifelong attendant. He was the one who ran the interface between the great sage, the great teacher, and the community. And I don't know if it's true, but I always imagine him as this kind of kindly uncle. It's said that he suffered quite a bit because he didn't have that fire of some of the other monks, and it was... years after the Buddha's death until he was finally awakened. So he was this very kind figure who smoothed, ruffled feathers, held the hands of those who perhaps were anxious or afraid.

[35:27]

And Ananda, interestingly, was also known for this prolific memory. And so when we read the texts, the teachings of the Buddha and the Pali Canon, they come through the voice of Ananda. The suttas open with the words, thus have I heard. And those words, that's Ananda speaking to us. But it's important here because Ananda wasn't just someone who repeated what he heard. He too embodied this quality what I'm calling a fierce feminine. This combination of this gentle, tender heart and a kind of fiery grit. So Ananda hears the cries of these women and he doesn't turn away.

[36:27]

He turns toward the suffering and he asks, he educates himself, he learns what is going on here And they tell him, we've traveled hundreds of miles and we want to join the holy life. And he is touched. He allows himself to feel the pain of their pain, but he doesn't crumble. He uses that pain, he feels it deeply, and then he too sets his heart. And he goes and he confronts the Buddha, which was a bit of a surprise from this kind of character, you know, who's been the attendant for all these years. And he challenges him. And he says to the Buddha, wasn't Mahapajapati the one who raised you at her own breast, you know, like her own son?

[37:29]

The Buddha says, yes, she was. But he's still not going to let her in. And then... Ananda says, well, isn't it true that women can equally, you know, have an equal opportunity to awaken as men? And the Buddhist says, yes, that's true. And he kind of, Ananda pins the Buddha in a corner and he says, then how can you not let them in? And so that in this story or mythic story is the turning point. And Ananda becomes the advocate and ally for those whose voices are not being heard. That this combination of kindness and steely fortitude is what precipitated the change that needed to happen. I love the fact that it's Ananda

[38:36]

as well as Mahapajapati, who embody this quality that I'm speaking to, this fierce feminine. And he seems to me that along with Mahapajapati to show us how we too can find our way to turn and face exclusion, injustice, oppression, And in Ananda's example, we see that the first step is to be willing to hear the cries, not to turn away. And not to hear them once, but to hear them again and again. To stay with it until something changes. So not only does he hear the cries, but he also is interested enough to ask, to learn.

[39:38]

to understand more about the situation. What is going on here? This is very much at the heart of the work of Bryan Stevenson, who I quoted. It's his work to bring forward much of American history that has been buried, has been hidden, just as many of the stories of these women were buried or overlooked or unseen. So he hears the cries. He educates himself. He learns. And he feels the pain. This is such an important step. We're not going to solve the problems in our world cognitively. We have to allow that pain. to be felt in the heart, to be embodied, and then not to crumble under the weight of it, but to allow it, as was true for Mahapajapati, as was true for Ananda, to set our own hearts so that we too can find our own way to speak, to engage,

[41:07]

to act. As the Buddha did, as Mahapajapati did, as Ananda did, we can feel ourselves in this lineage so important for our time and place. This is what it means to inhabit a bigger sky. That phrasing, which is the title of my book, is from a Zen story. And in the Zen story, it's described that we're all looking at the sky through a pipe.

[42:11]

I often say a straw. Looking at the sky through a straw. And is that the sky we see? Sure it is. Is it the whole sky? Absolutely not. And so our practice, our practice is at an individual level to soften, not to hold on, not to insist that our inevitably limited, partial sky circle is the truth, the whole truth. Because when we do that, we know what happens. We have sky circles crushing into one another. We have division and divisiveness, hatred, violence. And so we practice this understanding that we are all living inside of a narrative.

[43:13]

a narrative that has been shaped by our personal history, by our collective history, and that we can learn to see and see through, to find our own slice of freedom as we recognize the ways in which we're bound. But no matter how... No matter how spacious our little sky circle may become, it's so important that we recognize that it's only together that we see the whole sky. That all of our views and opinions about how it is will always be limited. That we, this is so beautifully described in the heart of the Bodhisattva vow, that we need each other. that we need this kind of radical inclusivity to see the whole sky. So maybe that's a good place to stop.

[44:25]

My clock says we're at the top of the hour. I invite Kono to come back. Thank you very much. Thank you so much, Penn. Now is a great time for us to have more conversation, questions, comments, responses. If you'd like to participate in that way, you can raise your blue hand, open your participants window, and we can unmute you. Yeah. Good morning. Oh, there you are. Hello. Thank you very, very much for your talk. Thank you for that wonderful metaphor with bigger sky. I'm always in awe how these teachings kind of fall into my life right when I'm dealing with something.

[45:35]

In this case, I have a... I've said this before now in other talks, but I have a... family member, a niece, a goddaughter, who's going through a lot right now. And she wants to learn how to meditate. And sometimes I hit that wall where, like, how can I offer this person that I love a sample, a bit of the teachings that I have gotten when a lot of them are very much male-centric, that don't really address the issues that are coming up for her. And consequently, in conversation with her, I've noticed the stuff that comes up for me. I liked how you talked about that soft fierceness. And I guess my question that I want to ask is, with the way that you mentioned that narratives can bind us and we have to see through them, see them and see through them, how do you know you're getting bound back into your narrative?

[46:37]

Well, the reason I'm asking this is it's like I tend to approach life in a soft way. But every so often I hit this wall where it's like if I were only more aggressive, more fierce, more masculine, I wouldn't be suffering the way I was. So I just want to know in your readings, did you encounter anything like that? Where the softness met the... the hardness and desire to stiffen up like that. Yeah, thank you for the question. I think it's important to just say out loud that what I'm describing is a fierce feminine, that these qualities of masculine and feminine are first, they're not

[47:40]

as I hope was clear in the stories that I told, they're not the same as gender. That masculine and feminine qualities are meant to be in balance. And so as you're describing, Miguel, it's really a matter for each of us to find what's needed in any given moment is what's needed here. Softening. Kindness. Seeing as... Mahapajapati described seeing the potential Buddha in everyone. Or is what's needed a fierce no? And both of the stories, I think, of Mahapajapati and Ananda describe that process. Both of them are predominantly described in a very soft way, in a kind way, in an including gentle way. And yet, at a certain point in their stories, both of them need to call on a different kind of quality.

[48:45]

And the same, the terms masculine and feminine, I think, are best understood, for me, anyhow, is coming through traditional Chinese medicine. But they are fundamentally energies. And they're energies that are existent in each of us, whatever our gender is. And when those energies fall out of balance at an individual level, we have ill health. That's how the system of Chinese medicine works, right? And if we extend that to look at a cultural level or even at an environmental level, we can see that we live in a world which is on tilt, I often say. That our culture is very much tilted, as you said, toward preference for men, a preference for the masculine over women, over those who are gender fluid or transgender.

[49:51]

There's a hierarchy, just as there's a color hierarchy, right? And yet, even though there's a cultural tilt in any one of us individually, we also need to pay attention and find that balance in ourselves. in response to a given situation. And just the last thing I would say is just to really encourage that to not be a cognitive process. Oh, I need this or oh, I need that. But it's part of the beauty, I think, of the practice of zazen is the just complete embodiment of... Finding one's center. Finding a sense of balance, of place, of here-ness in the body as an expression of our understanding.

[50:52]

Anyway, I hope that that is helpful in some way. Very, very helpful. I kind of appreciate it being called out on the whole, like, hey, you're stuck on this topic of gender. I hadn't noticed that when I was asking the question. And it kind of brings it into better... In this case, for me, the gendering for me, I mean, me personally, is the narrative that I wasn't seeing. And you kind of give me a nice little roadmap to appreciate more of the sky. Great. Thank you. Thank you. Thanks for the question. And I received a question by chat. It's Kodo here. Sorry. I'm just trying to find you on the screen. There you are. Received a question in the chat. So on behalf of one of our Sangha mates. What can predominantly white sanghas like SFZC and Spirit Rock do to include and do no harm to people of color? I guess I'm pausing because...

[52:11]

I've been immersed in this work both at a personal level and at an institutional level for many, many years. And my first response is just a kind of apology for how slow it is. Such a slow process. And I mean, for me as a white person, such a slow process of waking up but enormously valuable, worthwhile, important. And I mean, I think that for me, the little map that I tried to lay out in reference to Ananda is a good place to start.

[53:13]

It's not all of it, but it begins by, you know, maybe I'll back up to say, it begins by recognizing that no matter how deep our practice is, no matter how awake we may think we are, no matter whatever it is, we are always seeing just a slice of the sky. We are always in a narrative. And if we're going to, as Miguel said, if we're going to see the whole sky, we have to begin by recognizing other perspectives. And this begins with, as in the story, the mythic story of Ananda, we hear the cries. We have to be willing to allow our own individual and collective straw circles to soften and to take in other perspectives. If we are in the predominant, privileged group that's holding power, it's hard to do. It's hard to let go of one's privilege. That's what the Buddha did.

[54:15]

That is the story of the life of the Buddha. He was supposed to be the next king or head clansman or whatever you want to call it. And he let all of that go because he wanted to understand suffering and the end of suffering. So we have to be willing to let go of our views and opinions and to not just hear but to take in the pain. of those cries. And to feel it, for me, there has been this repeated experience of heartbreak. But not heartbreak in the way that my heart breaks and I crumble and go crawl into bed with, pull the covers over my head, although I might do that from time to time. But it's more that you let the heart break in a way that allows you, me, us to set our hearts to take a stand for what's good, what's right, what's true.

[55:19]

So I don't... There's not a sort of prescriptive way to do it, but there is a place to begin, which is to turn toward, to open, to listen, to take in. To not just take in, but to be willing to be shaped deeply by other perspectives that may seem like don't make any sense to me as I begin. This is actually a process of liberation, of being freed from my narrow little perspective. Thanks to whoever asked the question. Thank you for speaking to that, Pam. I see you next. Tova.

[56:22]

Hi, Tova. You're muted. Okay. Now I'm unmuted. First, I want to thank you for your talk. I resonated with so much that you said. And I really appreciate that you wove together the stories of Pajapati and Bryan Stevenson, the past and the current situation that we're dealing with. And I also really appreciated your response to the question with apologizing. I've been really working with my need to apologize for things I have not seen or voices I haven't fully, deeply listened to and that I've caused harm in the process of doing that at Zen Center.

[57:28]

And I've been working on this issue at Zen Center for a long time, and I was unskillful in some ways and, you know, just struggling with The remorse and also not wanting to crumble because I feel that what I can learn from this pain, personal pain, but from hearing the pain of others and stay open and find a way to, you know, both step back somewhat. and let others lead in this area and also stay involved. I feel that that's challenging. Anyway, that's what I'm working with. And I really appreciate not just your talk, but the spirit behind it, your openness to seeing how much there is to learn.

[58:40]

And any words of encouragement would be appreciated. So, yeah, I'm in a lot of pain right now. Yes, I feel that and also just so very deeply appreciative of the work that you are describing that you're doing and this willingness to turn toward, to be humbled, humbled, to recognize for me over and over again for almost two decades. I've been immersed in this work and how little I still know, how much I still overlook. A few weeks ago when San Francisco was on a lockdown because of the protests that were happening, I was out, I guess it was after the lockdown was over, but I was out in the park

[59:43]

near Golden Gate Park where I live, doing my post-dinner dog walk, and came upon this crowd of people who were pulling down statues. Statue of Junipero Serra, statue of Francis Scott Key. And what struck me about it was every day I walk by those statues. And I just, they were invisible to me. I hadn't seen, I hadn't known until it was right there. And that's how it is. It's very hard often to see until it's right here. It's like the names of the women. So this combination of humility and persistence

[60:44]

I think is so much a part of this, of what's needed at this moment. So that, as is often described, so that this moment that we're in, that has so much pain and so much potential, doesn't just pass by as a moment, but actually becomes a movement. That there's the possibility of real change as the Buddha created an alternate culture within the culture that he was part of, and to recognize that the Buddha wasn't perfect either, right? Created this, like, anti-caste system, everybody's included, except, oh, by the way, not women. I find this very heartening that he didn't get it right the first time either, right? He needed other people to help him see clearly, to help

[61:45]

open his own sky circle wider still. Some people are very upset when I talk about this as, you know, mistakes the Buddha made. I find it encouraging. He was, after all, like us, a human being. Anyway, I thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Pam. I think we might have time for one more short question, and then we can do the closing chant together. Adam, you've had your hand up for a while. Here we go. Hey, how's it going? I just wanted to thank you for your talk. It was really helpful. I really appreciate the Scott analogy. I think I'm going to be using that in a lot more conversations going forward. Yeah, first of all, I want to preface this by saying I feel a certain inherent discomfort as a white male.

[62:47]

In these discussions, I think I should leave space open for other people to talk and share their experience with you to talk about listening. And I think asking a question is a component of listening. So when I dig into these issues, I kind of discover this certain tension around identity and the question of identity. Which is to me, like when I really dig in, and I love Judith Butler. I don't know if you've come across work, but she says gender is a performance, right? And there's something to me that's very zen about that. It's like, okay, yeah, gender is a construct that we're kind of enacting in the world. And maybe there's some way that we can move past the constructedness of it and actually express our selfhood. And to me, that feels very zen and feels very, very true to me in terms of my own practice and the way I want to interact with the world is let's move away from these constructs. Let me express myself. But then you also look at the importance of identity. When you start to look at identity politics, we need to be able to say black lives matter because there are black people and they are being oppressed right now. We can't say all lives matter because it actually ignores the issue at hand.

[63:51]

You know, there's this empirical reality. There are black people and they are facing a different reality from our own. So I kind of was wondering how you've come in this studying to kind of resolve potentially that tension of maybe on an interpersonal or on a deeply personal level, it's important to say, hey, these identities are made up for construction. And for me, it's very easy. I can say, yeah, whiteness, maleness, that's all made up, right? And I can just go around in the world. For a lot of people, they can't do that. So I'm wondering how you kind of resolve that personal or social tension, if you think that tension exists and how you think, especially in writing a book, that's a lot about. gender in some senses. Sorry, that was a longer question. Yeah, that's great. Great question. Well, I mean, just to be really honest right out the gate, I have not resolved this tension. It is a tension that is inherent in the world.

[64:53]

It is inherent in language. And I will say that from my perspective, having studied in multiple traditions, that I think Zen teaching has the most profound understanding of what I would call the tension you're describing as a dynamic. And we might say it very simply in language that I think you would understand as the tension between form and emptiness. The play of what you're describing as, yeah, we're all just these energies moving around and anything we label ourselves as is just a label. But oh, by the way, those labels happen to have a big impact. So if we just say... you know, oh, we're all actually the same, yet he has what we call spiritual bypass.

[65:57]

Like, what is that phrase? Oh, I don't see color. Well, yes, you do. Of course you do. We all do. So it's holding that paradox, that dynamism between form and emptiness, between seeing the purity of our unity... of our sameness at the same time as we recognize, and in my version of it, totally celebrate our differences. Celebrate is different than divide and conquer, you know, better or worse. And for me, this is, I'm happy that we can end here because the character who embodies this in my understanding or my version of it is Prajnaparamita. is often referred to as the mother of all Buddhists. And Prajnaparamita is not just some kind of ethereal, we're all the same oneness.

[67:00]

Prajnaparamita is pointing to that dynamism, that dance, which you're calling attention. So one of the ways for me to hold it as more dynamism than tension is to recognize it for what it is. It's here. It's not something for me to get over. It's something for me to recognize and understand and live into. That's part of our human condition. And it's, again, I think it's expressed as beautifully as anywhere in, certainly in the Prajnaparamita literature and in Zen teaching. Yeah. That's super helpful. Thank you so much. Well, I would like to say thank you to everyone who's joined us and everyone who stayed to have this discussion. Let's finish up with the closing chant. Before we do, I just want to say thank you so much to Pam one more time.

[68:04]

So great to have you here.

[68:15]

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