This podcast is offered by the San Francisco Zen Center on the web at www.sfcc.org. Our public programs are made possible by donations from people like you. Good morning, everyone. It's good to see you all. Welcome to Beginner's Mind Temple. I'm Actually, I expected only a handful of people. I thought everyone would be out doing something for the holidays, you know, crazy last-minute shopping or just staying warm indoors. But it's a delight to be with you. So thank you for your presence, whether you are here in the Zendo or online. It's a joy to be with you and to practice with you. For those of you who may not know me, my name is Tenzin David Zimmerman. And I am a resident here at City Center. And I currently serve in the role of central abbot, also moonlighting as the abiding abbot at City Center.

[01:05]

So it keeps me engaged. I want to start by wishing everyone a happy winter solstice. which is today. The winter, the hibernal solstice, as you might know, marks the shortest day and the longest night of the year. And so at this time of year, we regard the solstice as a celebration of the light returning. and light coming back, the darkest period having been reached, and again, this kind of greater luminosity beginning to unfold as we head into the new year. I like to think of the solstice, particularly the... both the hibernal and the midsummer solstice, as kind of a cyclical turning point in this cosmic dance between light and dark.

[02:08]

And it's just beautiful to see how nature unfolds in this way, the universe unfolds in this way. So as, I don't know if those of you who were here last week, Mary Mosin was here and she spoke. And at the beginning of her talk, she also briefly mentioned the solstice. And she had said that many cultures and spiritual traditions have ceremonies and various forms to celebrate and bring forward the light. So you're probably familiar with many of these. We have Christmas, we have Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and there are many others. This morning here at City Center, we also had a ceremony. We had a winter solstice ceremony where we had intended to gather in the darkness of the courtyard next door at the conference center. However, it was raining, so we had to make a last-minute change and go indoors into the conference center. But I... had all the windows open so we could actually feel at least some breeze from nature coming in, some of the light of the solstice coming in.

[03:18]

And usually what we do for this particular ceremony is people come in, we give them each a candle. And then as we chant the Heart Sutra together, we take... one candle from the altar and then begin to share it around in a large circle. So in time, everyone is illuminated by the particular candle they're holding and also creating a big circle of light. And then we offer words or expressions of the seasons, poems, song, anything else that moves us. And I always find there's something magical for me in our Zen ceremonies, the ones that particularly celebrate the solstices and the equinoxes, in part because those are the few ceremonies that we actually hold outdoors and kind of in direct celebration of the cycles of nature. And so...

[04:21]

In that, realizing that we are a part of nature. We are beings of the natural world. This is who we are. So when we can turn to the natural world to understand ourselves better, the natural world then offers us clues about what it means to be human. And whenever we turn to the earth or we turn to our bodies and we connect with nature's patterns and how change and impermanence we recognize is embedded in every moment of our life, in every aspect of our being, as well as in our practice. So the wisdom of nature's cycles and its seasons teaches us when it's For example, time to plant seeds, when it's time to harvest, when it's time to be active out in the world, and when it's time to be still and quiet.

[05:25]

So if we follow the rhythms of nature in this way, we too can be in harmony with this larger earthly expression. The word solstice comes from the Latin solstitium. So forgive me, my Latin is terrible. I think it's solstitium. And it means sun standing still. So at the moment of the solstice, now the solstice is actually a moment. It's just a moment. It's not the whole day. So even though we may celebrate it, it's actually just one moment. The sun seems to stand still at the Tropic of Capricorn before it reverses. It reverses direction and then goes back the other way. And so I see the solstice as nature inviting us to pause for a moment, that one moment of solstice, to then rest in a calm, quiet, perhaps motionless state before taking the next step, whatever that might be.

[06:34]

And I often think of this time of year as as kind of a liminal time, a liminal space, kind of like that brief pause that occurs at the bottom of an inhalation before moving into, transforming into an exhalation. And you can notice this right now, just sitting here as you breathe, note that brief pause that happens. And think of that as a form of a solstice of some sort, a liminal space. Liminal space is the uncertain transition between where you've been and where you're going. And this is, you know, you can regard this physically, emotionally, and metaphorically. And the word liminal comes from the Latin word limen, or limen, and that word means threshold. So to be in a liminal space means to be on the precipice of something new.

[07:39]

but not quite there yet, a threshold. For some of us, navigating liminal times, such as the winter solstice, can give rise to a sense of fear, maybe sadness, maybe a sense of loss, as we leave behind what is familiar and move into the unknown, into the darkness, into that which we can't fathom. which we can't necessarily know at some part. And we abide there for some period of time, experiencing the discomfort and unease until the conditions change. However, in a certain sense, every day, every moment is one of liminality, one of an in-betweenness. Because the conditions of our lives are always changing.

[08:41]

They're always shifting. Whether in terms of nature, the weather, our moods, our sensibilities, the environmental circumstances around us, how we engage with others. And practice is always asking us to adapt, to turn toward and flow with the changes that we encounter, whatever they might be. So seasonal changes such as the winter and the solstice give us an opportunity to practice with this. Ancient Taoist and early Zen practices or Chan practices focused on observing and attuning to the natural world, including relentless change. And one of the Taoist framing devices for describing the flow of energies of the natural world is that of yin and yang.

[09:47]

And in Chinese philosophy, yin and yang are opposite forces that form a whole. And each, it's said, contains the other in a complementary, interconnected, and intermittent flow of ever-emergent change. So... From the Taoist point of view, yin is winter. It's nighttime. It's feminine energy and darkness. Whereas yang is summer, noontime, masculine energy, and light. Yin energy is about looking inward and simply being, while yang energy is about doing and acting. So the understanding of is that until the winter solstice, yin energy is getting stronger. And the day is getting shorter, and the night is getting longer. And then on the winter solstice day, yin energy is its strongest.

[10:53]

However, from this day on, it's also the time during which yang energy gradually restores its strength. And when regarding yin and yang, you guys know the Taiji symbol for yin and yang? The area that is the most black in that symbol represents winter solstice, if you will. But even at the apex of the circle, right, there is the white eye of yang. You could say summer solstice. in the center of the blackness. So reminding us that there is always a balance and there is still some yang within the yin. So winter as a time of yin energy is a time for slowing down, of reflecting, of turning inward. And do you feel that? Do you find yourself turning towards that at this particular time of year?

[11:54]

It's a time for holding the need for rest and relaxation over our habitual tendencies of constantly doing. Of course, this would be in contrast to the busyness of this time of year, right? The way that can feel particularly intense and chaotic right now because of all the juggle that the holidays throw our way everything we're expected to do to participate in some kind of communal activity in some way so nature reminds us that the hibernal solstice is a time to honor the natural stilling of the outer world and it gives us a submission to for a sacred pause A sacred pause in which to replenish, replenish ourselves and heal. Now, if we don't stop to pause, to rest, to, if you will, switch off sometime during the year, it can leave us feeling burnt out and running on empty.

[13:08]

Do you ever have that feeling? And so to maintain balance, we have to remind ourselves of the value of slowing down. turning inward and giving space for something new to arise in time. And believe it or not, here at Zen Center, those of us who are residents constantly have to remind ourselves about slow down. But it's fortunate because we have each other to remind ourselves, to encourage each other, to remember you can go a little bit slower. What is that energy that kind of pushes you forward? Study that. What is that? Is that an expression of selfing? Or is something else going on there? So to pause and just simply look at that and question that and turn inward with an inquiry. Why am I rushing around so much? What's going on there? Dogen Zenji, for those of you who might know him, he is the founder of our particular school of Soto Zen.

[14:13]

He... gave a formal discourse in the Dharma Hall on the morning of the winter solstice each year. And fortunately, there are just five of them, unfortunately, that remain, that were recorded in his collection called the Ehe Kuroku, or the Extensive Record. Here Dogen ascribed to the Taoist understanding that the balance of yin and yang energy fluctuates depending on the time of year. So he was a person of his particular time and he also honored that. Here's a discourse, an excerpt from discourse that he gave on the winter solstice in 1245. And the title of this discourse is Polishing a Jewel Amid Snowfall. And I shared this this morning during the solstice ceremony. He writes, Great assembly, listen carefully and consider well.

[15:15]

For a luminous jewel without flaw, if polished, its glow increases. Today's first arising of yang and the daylight's increase is an auspicious occasion. A noble person reaches maturity. Although this is an auspicious occasion for lay people, it is truly a delight and support for Buddhas and ancestors. Yesterday, the short length of day departed. Yin reached its fullness, and the sound of cold wind ceased. This morning, the growing length of the day arrived, and Yang arises with a bolsterous clamor. Now, punch-punch, patch-robed bunks, feel happy and sustained. The Buddha ancestors dance with joy. So Dogen sees the seasonal shift from the darker yin energies to that of the yang energies of greater light as a time for Buddhist practitioners to feel happy and nourished.

[16:25]

And in particular, he views winter solstice as an occasion for refreshing one's mind. And in doing so, he encourages his monks to think about the aspirations they may have for their practice in the coming new year, in the brighter days ahead. This might be something in line with a New Year's resolution of sorts. All of you, if you're not into New Year's resolutions, you might consider making maybe some kind of practice aspiration for the coming New Year and see how that might express itself. I expect we would be in agreement that our world seemingly and relentlessly spins between a myriad of apparent opposites and polarities, such things as yin and yang, light and dark, stillness and action, life and death, joy and sorrow, right and wrong, success and failure.

[17:37]

What Zen practices invites us to do is to find, in the midst of all those opposites and polarities, a still point, a middle point of some sort, a place of balance and rest amidst the, you can think of it, the dynamic transitions, the tensions between the polarities, the dualities that we experience within ourselves and within the world. And there's a particular Zen poem that comes to mind whenever I reflect on the solstices and the natural interplay of dualities. The Chinese, excuse me, the Japanese title of this poem is Sandokai. And it was written by Chan Master Shidao. It's also known in Japanese as Sekiro Kisen. And he was an 8th century Chinese monk. And he was a student of Wei Nang who was Zen's sixth ancestor. And he was also sort of Wei Nang's successor.

[18:38]

And the Sandokai is actually based on a Taoist text on alchemy. And it has since become a fundamental text in the Soto School of Zen. I imagine many of you are familiar. How many of you are familiar with the Sandokai? Maybe half the room. So it's a wonderful text if you ever have a chance to read it. The thing is that this poem was written at a time when there were two opposing fractions within the Zen tradition in China. There was a northern and southern school. And they had a fiery, very challenging disagreement with one another over the matters of principle, if you will. And this poem, the Sanukai, can be reviewed as a call to... end hostilities between these two factions of Zen practitioners by focusing on understanding the true nature of the Buddha way and of difference and equality.

[19:47]

And of course, also in the poem is a reminder that life is short, right? And life is short and practice is, because of that, most urgent. So it's basically, you know, in some ways, Shidawa is saying, you guys get over yourselves, you know, focus on what's most important and stop quabbling all the time, right? And really meet each other and support each other in practice. So this poem becomes an excellent primer on the non-dual teachings of Zen practice and how to apply them to various areas of our life and our well-being. And there are various translations of the title Sandokai, Some are more or less literal, depending which ones you engage with. The version that we use here at San Francisco Zen Center is harmony of difference and equality. And there's other translations such as merging of difference and unity, the harmony of relative and absolutes.

[20:49]

And when we unpack the particular characters that make up for the... the word that's used, sandokai, we get the following. So san means multiplicity or many. And this is what conveys the idea of a difference. Duality, phenomenon, many different things. Also samsara, meaning our everyday life. And then do, sandokai, the do means oneness or sameness. as well as this idea of identity or origin or some kind of essence. And then Kai means a mixture, a fusion, interpenetration, a harmony. And it's in kind of harmony in the broadest sense. And so the character, interestingly, of Kai is an image of shaking hands. coming together, shaking hands, this idea of fusion, interpenetration.

[21:55]

And this, I think it echoes the interconnectedness that's expressed by the yin and yang taiji symbol. Now, I'm not going to talk about the whole poem today, but there's a particular couple lines in the middle of the Sandokai that I'd like to share because I think it's apropos of the solstice. And the lines read as follows. In light there is darkness, but don't regard it as darkness. In darkness there is light, but don't regard it as light. Light and dark oppose one another, like the front and back foot in walking. I'll read that again. In light there is darkness, but don't regard it as darkness. In darkness there is light, but don't regard it as light. Light and dark oppose one another, like the front and back foot in walking. So in his collection of teachings on the Sandokai, which is titled Branching Streams Flow in the Darkness, Suzuki Roshi packs these three lines, beginning with the meaning of the Japanese terms that are used for light, me, and for darkness, on.

[23:13]

And he says, light means the relative nature dualistic world of words, the thinking world, the visible world in which we live. Darkness refers to the absolute, where there is no exchange value or materialistic value or even spiritual value, the world that our words and thinking mind cannot reach. So, in other words, the absolute is absolute because it is beyond our intellectual or our dualistic understanding. So it's beyond our thinking, or beyond our discriminating minds. And as such, it appears as darkness. So Shitao instructs in the poem, in the light there is darkness, but don't take it as darkness. In the dark there is light, but don't see it as light. So according to Suzuki Roshi, this could be translated as darkness, sorry, light has darkness.

[24:16]

and darkness has light. Kind of, you know, this idea is just an obvious statement, same way that we have hands, we have feet, you know. And so, in other words, this is meant to be a description of how intimate and inseparable the absolute and the relative are. However, while this interpenetration is a reality, if we imagine we perceive something called absolute in the midst of the relative, or vice versa, we're actually creating a conceptual separation. Which is why we're instructed, don't take it as darkness. Don't see it as light. Don't create the conceptual dualistic separation. So whenever we allow one perception light or dark, for example, to dominate another, we create division instead of allowing the two aspects to harmonize.

[25:24]

So how then do we harmonize the absolute and the relative? Well, by wholly and directly experiencing the moment we're in, right here, right now, the totality of this moment where absolute and relative are fully manifesting together. You can't take them apart. They're spoken about such as being the two sides of the same corn by Suzuki Roshi. So we do this by having a spacious mind, a flexible mind, a beginner's mind, and not getting stuck or attached to any one perspective. I don't know about you, but I often find myself getting caught by I have a particular perspective. I think it's the right view, the right perspective. What I'm seeing is true. And then I fixate it around it. I contract around it. I feel my mind contract, and then I feel my body contract around it.

[26:29]

And then I want to hold on to it to basically... who reify my sense of self, my sense of a separate self. So I use that view, that separate view, to say I am. I am something. What am I? I'm right. I'm this. This is the right view. And then I argue with everyone else to get them to agree with my right view. Does anyone else do that? No? Oh, good. I guess I'm the only one then. So this willingness not to get stuck in any particular view, any particular perspective, It takes some degree of trust, some degree of faith to let go, to not be right, to have a faith that both the relative and the absolute aspects of reality are always true and legitimate in their own way. There can always be some quality, some degree, even a little bit of truth.

[27:33]

to another person's perspective. Are we willing to entertain that? Are we willing to open to that? Even just a little bit. So Zen practice invites us to relax our tendency to intellectually grasp and describe whatever's going on and instead learn to live in a way that is less reliant on dualistic thinking. So oftentimes it's describing this wanting to kind of affix labels and identities to different objects. It's our way of fixing the world in a certain way. So can you look at a tree and rather than think tree, actually see the experience of light playing out in this kind of appearance? So can you see the tree before you label a tree? before you divide reality into a conceptual object in some way, right?

[28:39]

What is the experience that you have before you do that? And this is what we're doing in our meditation. In zazen, as we are in our posture of zazen, observing the mind, observing how the mind just... everything that floats and comes up in our field of awareness, noticing the way in which our minds just want to kind of grab onto it or label it or fix it in some way. And again, in relationship to our sense of who we are. So if we don't do that, if we just allow the flow of experience to pass by and observe it as such, it's kind of in the same way that you would be sitting on a riverbank observing the flow of the river. without reaching the rabbit, then the whole world of experience just is free to pass through this wide open mind that you have. And then we'll experience, at least I feel that, less suffering in the process.

[29:41]

Whenever there's any kind of contraction in the mind and body, there's usually some form of suffering that follows it. So the third line, again, reads, Light and dark oppose one another like the front and back foot in walking. So as before, light here represents the relative aspect of reality, and dark represents the absolute aspect of reality. And despite being mutually dependent, between absolute and relative, there is nonetheless a dynamic tension. There's a relationship. There's a tension between them. Light and dark, in this case, oppose one another, says the poem. So in the relative sense, the world is full of suffering, right? There's much that needs to be done to alleviate suffering. It's true. There is suffering. And yet, in the absolute sense, samsara and nirvana or liberation are one.

[30:49]

In other words, everything, things are manifesting perfection just as they are. There's no incompleteness to what is arising in this moment. And the tension there is really not in the phenomenon itself. It's more in our own minds, our own ways of perceiving these two expressions of reality. So if we want to learn to harmonize between these two aspects of life, for example, the realm of suffering and the realm that's beyond suffering, then we have to learn to work with and utilize this, you could say, dynamic tension in a positive, constructive way. So the tension doesn't necessarily need to be a problem, right? So if we engage in a constructive way, it's kind of like using two feet to walk. We use one foot and then we pose the next and then the next.

[31:52]

And if you actually study when you're walking, there's a moment where you lift a one foot and your whole body is balancing in space on that one foot. And until the next foot steps down. And then there's another moment of balance. And then the other foot lifts up. There's a moment of balance. So this is happening again and again. In order to move through our life, we engage these opposites. This dynamic tension, it allows us to move forward. So, in other words, the so-called opposition between relative and absolute is not a problem because it allows the world to function. Much in the same way, again, I just said about walking, but also this apparent opposition of summer and winter. It allows life to come forward in activity. You know, through the spring, the coming up, and then the summer. And then the fall, it begins to step back to rest and stillness.

[32:53]

So this intimate relationship of relative and absolute, the light, the dark, winter and summer, is what supports the world to come forth in all of its beauty and mystery. We need this dynamic tension between these apparent opposites to give rise to the entire universe, if you will. So in the final portion of my talk, I want to briefly turn towards considering how we might apply the teachings of the solstice that I've been sharing with you, that I've touched upon so far, to our everyday lives, and particularly to our relationship with others, which is, I think, a very rich field of practice. So in our lives and in our Dharma practice, we are constantly working with relationships, many of which can feel very oppositional at times. We're constantly exploring how to get along and live in relative harmony with our life, including our family, our friends, our co-workers, as well as those that we might consider to be adversaries or enemies.

[34:12]

And I think this particularly comes forward during the times of the holidays. I don't know about you, but I often feel this kind of elevated tension that comes up because we're kind of forced into these social conventions that we have to kind of get along and pretend we, you know, kind of like each other, right? And really want to act as if we're having a good time and this is a moment of celebration. So, you know, and... I don't know about you, but sometimes the richest conflicts in our lives happen with family members, where they end up being the most oppositional relationships that we have. And it's very hard at times to really see eye to eye with each other and meet the challenges that come up in our oppositional relationship. Speaking personally, I have a difficult relationship with my brother. I love my brother. He is 10 months older than me. But we just are very, very different people, and we see the world and gaze the world differently.

[35:20]

And from my part, I kind of see him somewhat self-absorbed. It's, you know, the world... centers around him. It's mostly what's happening around him to him that matters. And he also has what I would say is kind of a negative outlook in the world. Everything's bad. Everything's going to hell in a handbasket. And so he therefore kind of just gives up on constructive change in any way. And we also have very different political and spiritual orientations, and I find it's often hard to have a constructive conversation with them. Recently, he texted me, apropos of nothing, I don't know where this came from, he said, I love you, and I'm praying for your soul because you have not accepted Jesus into your life, and you are going to go to hell. So, come on, you know. We've been in this world more than 60 years together, and I'm getting things like this, and I'm like, what?

[36:24]

You know I'm a Buddhist. You know I've been doing this for decades. What are you thinking, right? So whenever he engages me in this way, I just have a strong conversation to kind of end the conversation because I know it's not going to be enjoyable. and I'm sitting there just taking deep breaths and just watching the reactivity arising in my mind and everything I really want to say that I know he won't be able to hear or take in anyway. So I find myself needing to really rely on my practice in order not to fall into reactivity or disassociation. That's the other thing. I just tune out. I'm just tuning out, and I'm not there. I'm not present. For him and also for myself, So it can be a challenge. You know how those old family systems you kind of fall into at times whenever you get together with family members? It's times like this when we might be particularly called on to take the stillness, the compassion, and the equanimity that we've cultivated in our bodies and minds through our meditation and our mindfulness practice and really make the effort not to do anything, right?

[37:39]

Not trying to fix the situation or fix the other person in some way. But instead, really try to just be present with whatever's coming up for us and for them. So it can be challenging, but it can be helpful sometimes to recognize that we don't necessarily have to do anything when we encounter someone that we find challenging, including a family member. other than just make our best effort to be present with them, to really listen deeply, to find out what is going on for this person. What is their side? What is their point of view? What are they trying to convey? What are their fears and concerns? Can I be open? Can I listen to them? And then, can I recognize that we already have a connectedness? By the fact that we're alive together, dependent or co-arisen, we are connected. And even if we might still feel separate in some way from them because, you know, they maybe don't accept us or we don't accept them, you know, we still can try to hold space to remember that connectedness.

[38:55]

So it's easy to get into arguments and conflict and sometime, you know, trying to get them to accept us or to accept our point of view in large because we want to be seen. It's really about when we want to put our kind of point of view out there, it's really about I want to be seen. I want you to see me, right? It's not really about the point of view. It's about I want to be seen and I want to be accepted. And that point of view is just a placeholder for that deeper wish in some way. And if we instead come from a place of interconnectedness and interbeing, then we can find a way to simply be present, to try to be helpful, to try to participate and find some ground or foster some expression of mutual regard and harmony together. I recall a story of a friend.

[40:00]

A friend told me a number of years ago when I was living at Tassajara. we had just finished the fall practice period at Tassar. And there's actually some people here today who just finished the fall practice period at Tassar. I believe it was on Wednesday. Is that right? And so, you know, she went home to spend the holidays with her parents. And so she told me she was, you know, one night watching TV together in the living room with her parents. And a commercial came on. And this particular commercial was an advertisement for some medication, a mind-altering drug, something that works supporting people who are working with depression and anxiety. And her father turned to my friend and said, you should take that. It would fix what's wrong with you. And of course, she was shocked.

[41:05]

She was like, Did you just say that, right? But she noticed that instead of doing her usual thing, was reacting and running out of the room, she was actually able to pause and stay in the room, you know, accruiting her practice, right? And even though it was painful, she could stand to bear with it, right? Instead of jumping out and slamming the door and kind of breaking some opportunity for connection. And there's something about our practice of being still and realizing that everything is interconnected. And what appears as separate is actually one little piece of this whole totality that's already being held by the totality. So as you meditate and cultivate a stability of mind, a stability and a spaciousness that includes everything, then when something arises that seems distressing to you, you may discover that you have the capacity to remain present with it rather than running away.

[42:16]

So my friend just sat there. She was attending to her breath and her hurt feelings with as much spaciousness and self-compassion that she could muster. And then after a while, her father said, I'm sorry I said that. So by simply sitting there, by not reacting, not trying to get some physical or emotional distance, there was some time that afforded an openness, a deeper listening, a reflection for both of them that hadn't been possible before. So it's not that it's a big deal, but... It's actually the fruit of our practice that just naturally occurs at times. And we see this over time as we practice for many years. The way it suddenly, there's certain habitual habits of reactivity in the past that we no longer fall into as quickly or easily, right?

[43:20]

And if we do, we're able to step out of them more quickly, right? And so we don't develop this in order to weld it like some sword. Look at me, I'm all kind of, you know, what's the word? you know, I'm stable and grounded and you can't affect me, you know. But it's really more, it kind of comes to us kind of like a form of grace, right? And it's kind of, we can just call upon it when we need it. And through practice, we become more able to, over time, be present with whatever is, even if it's deeply uncomfortable, painful, perhaps heartbreaking. And see how it is that we and what's unfolding is dependently co-arisen and unified. There is no separation there. The only place of separation is in the mind. So whenever you feel any kind of separation or perceive any separation, it's all up here. I hate to tell you.

[44:20]

So if we're able not to give up on others, or frankly to give up on ourselves, not to try to fix people with dualistic concepts such as good or bad, right or wrong. Then we allow them and ourselves to enact a fuller expression of being, one that might even surprise us over time. Even in times of war and great tragedies, those who we may perceive as a potential enemy or other those who we might perceive as apparently being on the dark side, if you will, may come forward to offer light in some surprising way, some form of generosity or a compassionate act, even an apology. And in doing so, proving that our one-sided perceptions and concepts are misinformed. and that they can't really embrace the complexity and the wholeness of life.

[45:28]

So can we appreciate what is hidden in other people, in each other, that which may appear dark to us or unknown to us in some way, that which we can't quite see or fathom, yet which may offer the world and our relationship with the other person, some form of light. Can we call forward the light in each other in some way? Don't give up hope because each of us contains light. Each of us is light. And when we don't see that in ourselves and we don't see that in each other, then there's this darkness. But if we see each other and meet each other and call forward the light from each other, then there's going to be this whole other expression of beauty and connectedness that arises. So can we, with some calmness of mind, stay present, stay in the room, and be available to each other, and particularly to another person that we may see as oppositional in some way, until there's some sort of turning, a transformation of revelation.

[46:50]

in some way. So in this time of solstice, can we meet ourselves and each other in an unmoving stillness, resting in the present moment with equanimity, holding whatever we encounter within and without with some measure of kindness and acceptance. And by entering the darkness of this time of year, we're invited to know ourselves more intimately, There's innovation, again, invitation to turn inward and to surrender to that which does not push away what we contain. The deep fullness of our being, all of it, both the dark shadows and the bright rays of self. And by making peace with what seems oppositional and thus challenging, we open to the power of yielding to the wisdom of an inner reconciliation, a reconciliation that is already present.

[47:56]

We just haven't seen it. So only by meeting ourselves at each other with acceptance and love do we evolve beyond resistance and conflict to come to a ground and place of harmony. So in closing, I'm going to offer a poem by the Thai forest monk Ajahn Chah. It's like this. Try to be mindful and let things take their natural course. Then your mind will become still in any surroundings like a clear forest pool. All kinds of wonderful rare animals will come to drink at the pool and you will clearly see the nature of all things. You will see many strange and wonderful things come and go, but you will be still. This is the happiness of the Buddha. So I wish you a great happiness at this still and tart time of year.

[49:02]

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

[49:34]

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