good morning well it's been a heck of a week over here for me I was thinking as I was walking down here that it's going to be really nice to be sitting on home base so The heck of a weak part was that I tried to create a talk. And at one point I looked like a crazy person. I had wads of paper all around me and my daughter said, are you still doing that? Days were going by and more wads of paper. So I just ran into Suki on the path and I said, you know, usually I I experienced giving talks sort of like a magician with a hat, and I reach in the hat, and out comes this little white rabbit.

[01:04]

This time, it was no rabbit. I don't know what's in there, but maybe some weeks or years from now, I'll be able to let you know. So I'm going to give another talk, a very sweet talk. about the journey of Shakyamuni Buddha from young prince to enlightenment. This is an initial inspiration, certainly of my adult life, this story, transformation. On one hand, it's a story of somebody who was very extraordinary, very unusual, very young. And a man. So, like, what does that have to do with me? But I feel as though we can see in this story, each of us, our own inner journey from confusion and pain and anguish over the facts of life.

[02:17]

And that we get glimpses, even now, of a little door, a little crack in the door. crack in the wall. So this story really isn't taking place long ago. It's current, it's modern, and it's all about us. So this particular human being, his name was Siddhartha, was born in a small town, a village in with a nice view of the Himalayas. And his father was the king, Sudohana. His mother was a queen, Queen Maya. And his mother died seven days after giving birth. So, you know, you may right away think, well, my dad wasn't a king, and my mom wasn't a queen, you know.

[03:25]

But in fact, as a child, Your dad was the king, and your mom the queen, and perhaps she died while giving birth. My therapist once said to me that all children are princes and princesses to themselves. Just as they grow up, they forget their inheritance. We are temporarily fallen into poverty. just the stock market that's going awry. So here's a description of the Buddhist childhood that's taken from the old scriptures. I was delicate, most delicate, supremely delicate. Lily pools were made for me at my father's house solely for my benefit. Blue lilies flowered in one, white lilies in another.

[04:26]

red lilies in a third. I used no sandalwood that was not from Banaras. My turban and tunic, lower garments, and cloak were all made of Banaras cloth. A white sunshade was held over me day and night so that no cold or heat or dust or grit or dew might inconvenience me. I had three palaces, one for winter, one for summer, and one for the rains. In the Rain's Palace, I was entertained by minstrels with no men among them. Sounds like your teenage years, doesn't it? So this story reminds me so much of the imaginary worlds that we create for ourselves as children. You know, doesn't it? That little swimming pool in the backyard, you know, inflatable. But there's your pool and the lotus flowers. turtle friends, and so on.

[05:29]

It seems very different from the practical world of our parents and the adults all around us, as though as children we've been born from some kind of magic spell or some kind of dream. One of my daughter's favorite stories as a young child that I'd often read her to put her to sleep was called The Good Night Moon. You know good night. Everyone knows good night. In a great green room with a telephone and a red balloon and a picture of a cow jumping over the moon. Good night, moon. Good night, room. Good night, cow jumping over the moon. Just like the prince. What a magical world. So as children, we turn our ordinary world into a magical castle. And then as adults, we turned a magical castle into an ordinary world. It's kind of funny, isn't it?

[06:37]

And when we're little, as all of you know, who have little children of your own or grandchildren in your lives or like to watch children play, they can shift from one world to the other very easily. Time and place are not so significant. Whatever whim is... occurring, they follow. They follow the string. And then they shift and turn. It's quite amazing. So very methodically, we had to teach our daughter, you know, the words. This is down. This is up. That's the moon. This is a finger. Not now. She'd say, what do you mean not now? You know? Great Zen question. I really, you know, I had to stop for a minute and think, I'm not sure what I mean by not now.

[07:38]

But not now. I knew that. Not now. Later. Something I'd been taught by my own parents. One time she said, this is... much often told story, you've probably already heard it, if you've ever listened to me before. When Grace and I would get her ready for school, you know, we were always referring, looking at our watches. Come on, honey, time to go, we've got to go, you know, get your clothes on, like that. And one time she looked up at me and she said, Mommy, do you work in a clock? Yeah. It has a bell. And a Han. Yes, indeed. I work in a clock. Charlie Chaplin holding on to that big hand.

[08:40]

So even though she was very flexible, and we are very flexible as children, we're also very vulnerable. Our emotions... We're very labile. We're crying one minute and laughing the next. Parents are just a little bit behind wherever we are. So she was delicate, very delicate, supremely delicate. When the Buddha was 14 years old, about the age of the kids in the coming-of-age program, he attended an agricultural festival on a farm, probably very much like this one. Only they had great oxen to pull the plows. And this festival, the oxen were covered with ribbons and bells, and they were being driven forward by long, black-lashed whips. And everybody was having a party. This is fun. So what the Buddha saw, or the young prince, he saw the animals that were being cut up by the plows.

[09:54]

the birds' nests and the snakes. And he saw the birds in the trees coming down to eat the animals. And he saw bigger birds coming to eat those birds. And he saw his friends around him eating. Everybody was eating and laughing. But he wasn't laughing. He was very sad. It was quite painful for this delicate young boy. So he left his father's side and he found a quiet spot to sit alone by himself with his grief. It was under a rose apple tree. And quite by accident, he slipped into a trance of perfect harmony, a concentration trance that was peaceful. So this is called the rose apple meditation. a very significant part of the journey, this journey of our human life.

[10:57]

So temporarily he was free of his grief and he was free of the suffering that he felt toward the world. And I think we all know these moments in the day when we pause and there's kind of perfect harmony, you know. I was feeling some anxiety about coming here to sit on the home plate. And so I walked down into the garden and I smelled the sweet peas. And then I smelled the rose geraniums. And I saw a child and some birds and Each time, each of those things was a moment of harmony, of relief. So we know this possibility. We know it well. It happens throughout the day. A breeze or a moment of sunlight through the fog.

[12:03]

Especially Green Gulch. That's the big one. For my dad, it was a new car. The smell of a new car. He would be transported for days. But as was true for the prince, it's true for us that that new car smell doesn't last. And not only that, you have to pay for the car. So those first memories that I mentioned, the sweet peas and the rose geranium, that's like an inhalation, like an inspiration. And paying for the car is the exhalation, it's the exhaustion. We know both sides all through the day, inhaling and exhaling.

[13:10]

So we humans are wired with three particular strategies for dealing with the fluctuation in our circumstances. beginningless strategies. We didn't just come up with them on our own. They're kind of wired in, and they are called greed, hate, and delusion. These are the engine of all that ails us and of all that will set us free. The door in is the door out. So these three strategies, greed is basically I'm going to get all I can and keep it for myself and maybe the people I like. It's kind of the basis for our capitalist society. And hatred is basically I'm going to get rid of all the things I don't want, all the people I don't like.

[14:18]

And I'm going to lock the door behind them. And confusion or delusion is basically not knowing which one is which. Is this a friend? You're my friend. How can you be doing this to me? So we're not so sure sometimes which one it is. So greed, hate, and confusion. So this first strategy of greed was the one that the Buddha's father attempted in order to protect his son from finding out about the realities of life, the facts of life. He built a great wall around the palace. He made special rooms for his son, food and clothes, and protected him from anything that was unpleasant or might harm him. And I really...

[15:22]

I really understand this impulse, particularly now that my daughter's learning to drive. You know, I thought, maybe we should buy a Hummer. They're looking good all of a sudden, you know. And reinforce the wall, you know, steel, like roadside bomb-proof them. So, you know, we do want to be safe. We want our loved ones to be safe. It's a natural feeling. for a parent, for a self. So one day, the prince insisted that he go out into the village on a kind of adventure. He hadn't really gotten out much. So his father had the servants shoo away all of the old people, that'd be most of you, and all of the sick people, and anyone who had illness, disease of any kind that was showing, so that when the prince got to town, it looked sort of like Stinson Beach on a summer day.

[16:28]

Very nice, very nice. But the gods were on the side of the Buddha's awakening, so they created in the town a vision of an old person. Now the Buddhist charioteer had been told by the king, do not let him see anything that's ugly or disturbing. And if he does, lie. So when for the first time the prince saw the royal way filled with well-behaved citizens wearing clean and simple clothes, he was delighted and felt as if he were a different man. However, seeing the city was joyful as paradise, the Sudavasa gods, to incite the prince's renunciation of the world, created an old man. The prince saw the man, overcome with age, different in form from other people, and his curiosity was aroused.

[17:33]

With his eyes fixed on the man, he asked his charioteer, O charioteer, who is this man with gray hair, supported by a staff in his hand, his eyes sunken underneath his eyebrows, his limbs feeble and bent? Is this transformation a natural state or an accident? The charioteer, when he was thus asked, his intelligence being confused by the gods, saw no harm in telling the prince its significance, which should have been discreetly withheld from him. Old age it is called, the destroyer of beauty and vigor, the source of sorrow, the depriver of pleasures, the slayer of memories, the enemy of sense organs. That man has been ruined by old age. He too in his infancy had taken milk and in due time had crawled on the ground. He then became a handsome youth and now he has reached old age.

[18:37]

My daughter's been listening to, she's at that age when she's listening to horror movies. So while I was working on this sock, I'm hearing, you know, it's like, it's old age coming. So the prince moved, asked the charioteer, will this evil come upon me also? The charioteer then replied, advanced age will certainly come upon you through the inescapable force of time. No matter how long you may live, people in the world are aware of old age, the destroyer of beauty, yet they seek only pleasure. So this story goes on a bit more with another visitation. These are called the Four Gates. The Buddha sees an old man, he sees a sick person, and he sees a corpse. And the last visitation is with the mendicant, which is the door out for the Buddha, the story of his leaving home. That's the last gate.

[19:43]

But here's the paragraphs on seeing a corpse. Buddha says, Is this state of being peculiar to this man? Or is such the end of all men? The charioteer then says to him, This is the last state of all men. Death is certain for all, whether they be of low, middle, or high degree. And though he was a steadfast man, the prince fell faint as soon as he heard about death. Leaning his shoulders against the railing, he said in a very sad tone, This is the inescapable end for all men, yet people in the world harbor no fear and seem unconcerned. Men must be hardened indeed to be so at ease as they walk down the road leading to the end of life. turn back, for this is not the time for the pleasure ground. How can a man of intelligence, aware of death, enjoy himself in this fateful hour?

[20:49]

Very delicate young man. Well, I think we all know this shock very well, you know, the shock of finding out about death. Maybe it was a pet when you were little or your grandfather. For me, it was my grandfather dying that broke through my childhood dreams of mortality. I don't know, but death? What is that? What is that? And then after grandpa, there were other deaths and other injuries until many of my childhood dreams were simply dead themselves, particularly the one about happy ever after. No way. So we do change the castle into an ordinary world by how we think, by what we believe.

[21:55]

So eventually we're not children anymore and we all pretty much know the score. We're hardened, and therefore we can walk down the street. So all of us have had to face this moment when we stand and aren't quite sure how next to proceed. What do we do from here? How do we go forward? How do we go forward? So the king's response wasn't exactly a bad one. He tried to protect his son from exposure to reality. And I think that even though all of us do need to create a shelter for ourselves and our families, you know, it's important to do, clearly many of us have kind of overdone it, right? I mean, I recently had to move my household and, oh my God,

[23:02]

I mean, something's been breeding in my closets, you know. Stuff, just kind of huge mountains, I'm not kidding, of stuff that, you know, that as I went through, I just put back in the boxes because it was kind of like, well, I can't get rid of that, you know. That's from when I was in third grade, I wrote that poem. You know, it's amazing how attached these gummy things that we have in our lives. So I was thinking of the image of Scrooge McDuck, you know, on his mountain of money. And he's quacking, quacking, quacking. Stay away, stay away. It's my money, my money. You know, he's afraid that everyone's going to try and get his money. And, of course, they are. It's the Beagle Boys coming after his money. Those little other ducks with the masks. So there's no easy way.

[24:04]

And we can't make the walls or the vaults strong enough. Little by little, things start to erode away, these accumulations. We can't hold on to them. We don't have enough pockets. Especially when old age takes our strength. It was hard carrying those boxes. I'm like, oh God, that's the last move. So we can't make our lives secure because bad things happen to good people. Things we don't want. So for the young prince from Kapalavastu, this deep anguish over the suffering of the world is what led him to leave the palace. He no longer could take pleasure from a life of abundance and safety, and so he ran away.

[25:07]

He just ran away. Someone once asked the Tibetan monk who was teaching us here about fear, and he said, so what did you do, Master, when you were afraid, when the Chinese were coming? And the monk said, you run. Run like hell. So the prince ran away. He ran away from his wife and his child and his kingdom and his responsibilities. And then he stood on a hill looking back at the palace and the people that he loved, and he gave what's called the lion's roar. I will not enter this city again until I have attained liberation. Now, this wasn't a happy thing. He was heartbroken. I imagined him standing there weeping. He was a delicate child, and he loved his family. So, you know, I can forgive him.

[26:14]

Sometimes. People ask me, you know, how could he leave his family? And I said, well, he wasn't enlightened yet. It's the best I could come up with so far. And then the Prince Siddhartha took from the side of his charioteer Chandaka a sword whose hilt of the seventh treasure was adorned with pearls, jewels, and miscellaneous embellishments. He held that sword in his right hand and drew it from its scabbard. And with the left hand, he took hold of the conch-like topknot of his hair, which was deep blue, the color of a lotus flower. Wielding the sharp sword himself, with his right hand, he cut off the topknot. And with his left hand, he held it aloft and threw it into the air. At this, Chakra Indra, king of the gods, greatly rejoiced with the mind he had rarely experienced. and held aloft the prince's topknot, not letting it fall to the ground. With a fine celestial robe, Chakra Indra received the topknot and kept it.

[27:17]

Then the gods served to it their most excellent celestial offerings." So I think, again, most of us can remember that point in time, maybe when we were teenagers or in our 20s, when we ran away from home. I don't remember it being a very pleasant occasion. I remember my mother saying, well, honey, you don't have to go, and I just cried even harder. What do you mean I don't have to go? Of course I have to go. But I was really upset she'd given my room away. I went away for just a few months. I come back, and it's a sewing room. So I ran away from home. I showed her. So I think it's the big no. It's the hatred of the three, greed, hate, delusion. We just know. No more of this.

[28:19]

No more suburbs. No more station wagons. No more of this nonsense from my parents. No more pizzas on Friday night. Whatever. No. I'm done with it. I'm out of here. No more worries. So then you're out there in the world by yourself. I didn't have any furniture in my first house, you know. I slept on a mat in a big old Victorian with no furniture. I did have a poster eventually of the Bank of America on fire. So the Buddha was out there among his peers as well, kind of wandering the countryside. And there were lots of young, mostly men in those days, who were meditators and ascetics.

[29:23]

It was very common in India, as it is today, for people to take up the holy life. So the first night in the forest, he said, was the most difficult. And here again from the scriptures. The loneliness of the forest is hard to bear. It's hard to take pleasure in being alone. When at night I stayed in such frightening and fearful places and an animal passed by or a peacock broke a twig or the wind rustled among the leaves, I was filled with terror and panic. I like these stories. I really feel close to the Buddha's efforts when I know he was scared. I'd be scared. I was scared. The night I left my marriage, which wasn't... very long, it was a rather short marriage, but when I left and I took a little apartment in the mission, that first night, listening to the motorcycles, you know, it was terrifying. I couldn't sleep. And I really, you know, almost ran back.

[30:27]

I was like, okay. I was just kidding. But I think fortunately, like the Buddha, many of us found abundant teachers and guides and mentors along the way to help us in the next step of our journey. That certainly was true for me. I've been very lucky in that way, particularly coming to this wonderful community for all of its stories. It's been a wonderful place. And the Buddha, too, he found a meditation teacher who taught him a style of meditation that basically obliterated his consciousness. Very nice. However, what goes up must come down.

[31:29]

What turns off turns back on again. So he found it unsatisfactory. You can obliterate your consciousness, but not for long. How long can you hold your breath? Apparently the longest you can stay in an extinction trance is about three days. And then you'll be back with a big headache. Because it's very hard once you've tasted obliteration. to come back to this noisy, crowded, busy place. Kind of makes you want to kick the dog. So back you go into obliteration. This was the teaching of this first teacher. And the Buddha found it unsatisfactory. Well, this isn't the cure. This isn't the end of suffering. It's just like a yo-yo. So he left. And then he tried asceticism. And this is the most extreme version of no.

[32:34]

No. He didn't bathe. He didn't cut his nails or his hair. He stopped eating except for a very tiny amount of food, and he became very thin and feeble and almost couldn't walk. He could see his abdomen, you know, through his skin. His ribs were all showing, poking out. He looked like a skeleton, like one of those characters in the horror movies. But fortunately for us, the Buddha was a very honest man. And he could see that this was also not the way. He wasn't getting anywhere. So he gave it up. He took some food, some milk offered by a young woman who thought he was a tree spirit. And he drank the milk and he regained his strength. And then he was without teachers. He was basically left to his own to understand and find the way. And this is when he remembered the meditation under the rose apple tree, that time as a boy when he came into this place.

[33:41]

And he said that that time under the tree was free from unwholesome states of mind, and yet it was accompanied by thinking and pondering, and it was delightful and happy. This wasn't an extinction trance. This was a... harmonious state in which he could think and ponder the truth of existence. This was a thinking man, the Buddha. He thought a lot. He thought carefully and deeply about himself, about the workings of his mind, about the causes of suffering and how one might bring those causes to an end, about the path. And then he taught. He learned and then he taught what he learned. This lineage is a teaching lineage. So finally he knew at long last that this was the way.

[34:47]

Something so simple and available that even as a child he could do it. And maybe as a child it's much easier for us to do it. To sit down under a tree. to ponder in happiness and delight. So he was no longer lost or confused. There were no more strategies. He'd found the path which had been right there all along, the path of moderation that runs between the two extremes. Which two? Whichever two you like. The extreme of luxury, the extreme of asceticism, of yes and no, of right and wrong, of mine and yours. These are the extremes, the dualisms. The middle way runs between the extremes and brings them into harmony. Not throwing them away, but bringing them together.

[35:48]

So we find our balance again and again right where we are. That's why I call this home plate. And every one of these seats has a base. First base is over here, second base, third base. Go around and around. Find our way home. So he took the rice and the milk, he gathered his strength, and he sat under the tree. And then at sight of the morning star, he became one with his goal of liberation. The young prince was now an enlightened Buddha. It just happened. It just happened. Out of all that had come before. So I think it's easy to imagine how nice that was for the Buddha to be enlightened.

[36:53]

He was very happy about that. And he spent about 49 days celebrating his awakening under various species of trees. Seven days under this one, seven days under that one. Just kind of having his own little party, awakening party. And, you know, he was content and he was happy with his circumstances to the rest of his days and serene, wise, loving and kind. But that's not the end of the story that I want to tell. Because very soon after this enlightenment story in the sutras, there's another little story that's very strange and that I like very much. And it's... takes place a few just a few days after the Buddha finishes this 49 days of celebration and he's begun to walk along the path looking for basically people to teach so he's the Sangha hasn't formed yet he's still by himself and he meets on the path a man named upaka who is a naked ascetic and upaka is struck by the appearance of this newly enlightened Buddha and asks

[38:17]

who is your teacher? The Buddha says that he is the victor emancipated through the destruction of craving and is himself the teacher. Upaka then responds, maybe so, and walks away. And that's the last we hear of him. So I rather like this guy, you know? I mean, even though I'm a disciple of the Buddha and I follow the Buddha's way and I really am interested in everything he said and how he behaved and all that he taught. I really liked wondering about Upaka. What happened to him? Did he grow orchids or make children's toys? Did he marry and have a family? What did he do? Because these are just stories. And you can take up these stories and do with them what you like. We are free to choose. And our choices are the basis of our life.

[39:21]

You are what you eat. You become how you behave. So this really is our story, the story of the Buddha. And the point that I really want to make is that it's entirely up to each of us, how the story ends or where it goes from here. So please don't be fooled by anyone else. You have to find your way. That is the Buddha way. And in the meantime, it's quite lovely out there, and I hope all of you enjoy your day at Green Gulch and find exactly what it is that you want. Thank you very much.

[40:15]

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