Good morning. I guess that means you can hear me. Is that also true in the macro? Stick your hand up if not. Stick your hand up if you can't hear me. This is a beautiful space. I'd like to talk this morning about satisfaction and dissatisfaction. Something I think that we as Americans are caught by, whether we're satisfied or dissatisfied with whatever, our life, or our partner, or what we have in front of us for a meal, etc. And I'd like to begin by telling you a story.

[01:09]

A few weeks ago, a friend who lives in New York, an American man who's a photographer, he and his wife came to visit. They have a long-standing interest in Turkey, have been going to Turkey for ten or more years, have fallen in love with Turkey, if you will. And in particular, they go to archaeological sites in western Turkey whenever they are there doing a job. They take some extra time in order to go and see some archaeological site that they have not visited before. And the story I want to tell you is a story of an experience that my friend John had on a recent trip to Turkey. He and his wife and their friend, who is Turkish and who acts as a translator for them whenever

[02:16]

they go on these jaunts, were driving somewhere in western Turkey where there was not even really a road, more what you might call a track. And they were looking for a particular archaeological ruin, which they had been told about by many people in this particular region. And they were repeatedly given the same set of instructions about how to get to this place. So they went following the directions and the road turned to a track and the track disappeared and they ran out of landmarks and stopped and said, oh, this must not be the right way and then turned back and would repeatedly get reassurance that they were indeed going in the right direction. And I think they repeated this process several times. Finally, someone from the local neighborhood offered to go with them to actually show them how to get

[03:25]

to the place they wanted to go to. And indeed, they had gone exactly the right way. They had just turned around too soon, been discouraged too soon. So when they got to the site of the ruins, there was no guide or guard. There's some combination of guarding and guiding at these various sites. And I guess this particular site was so remote and had so few visitors that the guard guide had said to the local shepherd, you take on my responsibilities of guarding and guiding. And I'm going to go do some things. And if anybody shows up, it's your responsibility to take care of them. So when my friends got to this spot, the only person there was the shepherd with his flock. And the shepherd, as was his accepted responsibility, showed them around the site

[04:28]

and John very quickly realized that he knew more about the site than the shepherd did. So he began to engage with this shepherd about his life and to ask him about his flock. How many sheep do you have in your flock? Oh, I have 80 sheep. Oh, really? Well, how many lambs do you have every year? And the shepherd told him. And very quickly, John's entrepreneurial and expanding American mind began calculating. Well, if you get X number of lambs every year and so many die and so many live to maturity, within five years you're going to be a sheep baron. You're going to have the makings of several flocks with shepherds working under you, producing income, etc. The shepherd had also told him that he had a little tobacco crop on the side for a little extra cash income.

[05:31]

But that was the source of his livelihood. So after a little while of silence, during which my friend was busily calculating the road to riches as a shepherd, he then said to the shepherd, well, gosh, I don't understand this. How long have you been doing this? And the shepherd told him, you know, all his life. And how come your flock doesn't ever get to be any bigger? He described how at the end of five years a sheep would be slaughtered, and that would be the source of their food, and they would use the skin for leather and all of that. But that they used the sheep for wool, their wool, up until five years of age. So as John explained the path to riches and fame to the shepherd, the shepherd just shook his head and said, why would anyone want more than 80 sheep?

[06:32]

Herein is the point of my story. America meets the ancient ways. Anyway, my friend said he was stopped with this question and proceeded then for some while. In fact, it sounds to me like he's still considering the implications of that conversation. And the minute our friend told us this story, my husband said to our friends, ah, the makings of lecture material. He could just see the glint in my eye. I was just thrilled. So I've been thinking about this story. It's been working me for the last several weeks. So let me say a few words about the word satisfaction.

[07:42]

According to my etymology expert, resident etymology expert, the root for status means enough and faction means to do or to make. Can't you just hear Aretha Franklin's voice in the background? You may not, but I can. And so the consequences of doing or making enough is this state of mind or quality that we call to be satisfied. And I would like to consider together this business of satisfaction in the context of the meetings that are going on in Rio de Janeiro right now by representatives from around the world out of our concern for this planet and our environment.

[08:50]

Because it seems quite clear that out of our dissatisfaction and what we think it takes for us to be satisfied, we have over the recent decades created, we have spoiled our nest. We've created big trouble for ourselves. It came home for me a few days ago in very immediate terms when someone who is a kind of expert about trees came to look at the very old crabapple trees that grow in the front of the house where I live. I have no idea how old the trees are, but they're decades old, grand old trees, which my pet goat, Hamburger, rescued from the local spring auction, tried to kill by barking them.

[09:53]

And they have persisted in spite of the goat. They've persisted in spite of our overwatering them. They've persisted in spite of our ignorance about how to take care of them. And for a few years, in fact, flourished, looked like they were finally getting what they needed. But these days they're looking stressed again. So this man came out and he looked at the trees and he had some comments about some things that we could do. But he took a leaf and he said, Look at what's happening in the coloration along the veins in the leaf. And look at the changes in the color of green in the leaf, difference between the central part of the leaf and the outer edge. This is in all likelihood the result of the diminishing of the ozone layer. I'll take the leaf and do some tests on it, but that's what I think is happening. Maybe it's at this level that we need to be met with some information

[10:59]

about the consequences of the way we human beings have been living to get mobilized to change the way we think and as a result change the way we act. So, inspired by my friend's story about the shepherd and the teaching that the crabapple trees bring, and my own query of myself over the last while about what is satisfying in my daily life and what is not satisfying, and allowing myself to consider the answers to this question, I've seen more and more clearly how much the admonition about think globally and act locally is right on the mark.

[12:03]

The events that we all have had so much in mind in recent weeks and months as a rising out of the riots in Los Angeles and in other cities in the United States. Another kind of confrontation with things as they are rather than whatever it is we've decided not to see pushed away. I keep coming back over and over again with gratitude to the teachings of the Buddha and the teachings that have been carried in the stream of Buddhas and ancestors and by all of us as we seek to find some viable path both outer and inner. I keep thinking about the practices that this great tradition presents to us

[13:08]

if we want to think of the Buddha as the doctor and his teachings as the medicine. This tradition which brings us the medicine to our suffering. Well, what is our suffering? What are the patterns in our particular culture, our particular society that lead us to feeling driven, dissatisfied, needing more rather than less? It does seem to me that if we pay attention to the messages in the contemporary mass media culture, if you will, we are over and over and over again encouraged in our inclination for wanting what we want now and wanting more.

[14:09]

Part of my effort to act locally is to get in my car less. It's very easy, you know, to be studying or doing what I'm doing and then get in the car and race to Green Gulch. I thought, well, just get in my shoes and race to Green Gulch. So as Bill and I were walking up here we were musing about the difference in how we understand what it means to do something now. Somebody passed us on the road in their car and he said, well, maybe they're going to Green Gulch and they're going to Green Gulch now, but so are we, but we're walking. So our now may be a little different than the person in the car's now. And he reminded me how in certain parts of the world now means tomorrow, next week, this year. So in the teachings of Shakyamuni Buddha and the Buddhas and ancestors who have taught us, continued teaching us,

[15:30]

we have instructions, if you will, about the practices of restraint, the practice of patience, the cultivation of patience, of equanimity, some teachings about a different way of looking at or experiencing or understanding time. Because, of course, my sense of time changes so radically depending on my intention and on my view. Our friend and teacher who lived here and taught us and helped us out for a long time, Harry Roberts, whose ashes are placed under one of the big rocks up on this slope. Harry talked a lot about the 500-year view, talked about it would be very useful if there were some of us, for example, those of us here at Green Gulch, made the decisions we made in terms of the 500-year view instead of our lifetime or this year or this week.

[16:39]

I think that's a perspective that resonates very deeply with the teachings of our ancient and wise ancestors. Because I immediately have a different kind of patience to do something that I will not see come to fruition in my lifetime if I think about how will this go in 500 years. I'm willing to go more slowly and more thoroughly, and I'm much more likely to understand and accept that viewpoint of 500 years if I deeply understand, have uncovered all of the obscurations to my understanding of the fact of interconnectedness and interdependence. That the nature of the world is that we are interconnected and interdependent with all things and all beings.

[17:50]

And that it is literally so that what happens to our environment happens to us. What happens in the world, what happens to another being, near or far, affects us. And the big question is, can we understand how that is so? There is a lot of talk these days about engaged Buddhism. It is certainly the core of what teachers like Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese Zen teacher, talks about engaged Buddhism in a very specific and challenging way. Our friend Joanna Macy talks a lot, teaches a lot, has written wonderfully about engaged Buddhism. Has written about these ways of understanding our place in the world based on these ancient teachings

[18:56]

but in ways that are very accessible to all of us. For any of you who don't know her book, World as Lover, World as Self, I recommend it. She talks a lot about how in our feeling overwhelmed with the state of our world we feel helpless and vulnerable and want to push our experience of that sense away. Helps us understand the kind of energy that goes into pushing away what is so. Energy which we can, if we're willing, use to take care of the world we live in, take care of ourselves and all beings. Maybe Suzuki Roshi was right when he wrote on a little piece of paper that now hangs on my wall, do not say too late. I think that's what the conference in Rio is about,

[20:04]

is to mobilize ourselves with the information we need to understand what is so, so that we can individually and collectively do what is possible. My neighbor Mayumi Oda and I were talking yesterday about our respective shame, hers with being Japanese and mine with being American. As we see more clearly the role that our respective countries of origin and acculturation, what our governments and our societies are doing to contribute to the decline of our environment. How much our president doesn't understand that this is an issue,

[21:05]

an issue of our very life and death. And what has been coming up for me more and more is how useful it is for me to not focus on changing George Bush and how important it is for me to change myself and my own life. That may include voting, but that's still something I'm doing, not someone else. Thich Nhat Hanh has been saying for a long time, if we were willing to eat half, in the western world, but he was really speaking very pointedly to us in this country, if we would consume half of the alcohol and meat that we consume, that's what it would take to release the food resources that could feed the hungry and starving. And more and more, I think, our consumption of the non-renewable resources comes up.

[22:18]

What are the implications of driving less? They're profound. How frequently do I get in the car to go to Mill Valley or San Francisco or Berkeley to do something that I want to do now instead of collecting the errands and making one trip instead of six? And how much of that, just acting, comes out of forgetting? Forgetting about the implications of driving our cars around. It's actually quite inconvenient, especially for those of us who live on this side of the ridge. Forget a carton of milk, that's it, you don't have any handy place to go unless your neighbor happens to have some milk. And I notice there is a good bit of back and forth with whatever we've forgotten to get. Milk, butter, and eggs being the standards.

[23:23]

So I had another experience that was a profound teaching on this theme of satisfaction and dissatisfaction. I went to a conference a week or so ago, a four-day conference in Palo Alto. And it was actually in a Catholic retreat center in Atherton. Very quiet setting. And as a result of the circumstances, I had a lot of time to be very quiet. And it was an opportunity for me to spend some significant amount of time, in addition to participating in the conference I was attending, to also participating in answering this question about what is satisfying and what is dissatisfying in my life these days. It's amazing what information surfaces if I'll just sit down and be quiet and pay attention

[24:37]

and allow myself to ask the questions that are sitting there on my shoulder, hoping I'll ask them. Saturday evening, one of the members of the conference I was in is a very sweet scholar, Frenchman, who's an Indologist, teaches at a center for science and humanities in Paris. And quite famous for his work, particularly in studying Indian culture and society, and doing a lot of very important scholarly work about Hinduism. We were a group of people looking at both Hinduism and Buddhism. And I was very touched by this man in many ways. He was, you know, a little crisp bow tie, very correct in every way,

[25:41]

but also very relaxed and extremely kind. And sharp, marvelously sharp, cultivated intelligence. I remember one morning he came in, the only member of our group who had a tie on. He quickly wrenched his bow tie off. I mustn't wear a tie if no one else is wearing a tie. Wouldn't be kind. So he told me about a book that he thought I would enjoy reading, a novel. And so I went looking for it during the break in our schedule on Saturday night. I called around to a few bookstores and there was a bookstore that some of you who've lived in the Palo Alto area probably know. It's a kind of institution down there called Kepler's. When I was an undergraduate at Stanford, Kepler's was a feature on the landscape.

[26:45]

It's now, you know, in a new building and very snazzy. I had no idea where I was going. I just thought I was going to my old friendly bookstore, Kepler's, which I hadn't been to probably for 30 years. It was a scene. Huge. Every book you could ever imagine wanting to look at, much less want. Arranged easily and imaginatively. Packed. I never saw so many people in a bookstore. Certainly not since our so-called recession. Clearly news of the recession had not hit Atherton, Menlo Park and Palo Alto. In this complex of events where Kepler's is located, there's a coffee, kind of espresso shop, a movie theater. Who knows what else was there? I couldn't quite tell. And then this huge bookstore where people were either going after the movie or before the movie.

[27:47]

Lines at every cash register. People buying. Just, it was thrilling. Positively thrilling. I was just stunned. I kind of... Of course they did have the book I wanted. The one and only copy. Which I later, when I talked to the Frenchman who had told me about it, realized was a kind of miracle. Because it's a book translated from Hindi. His wife had actually translated it. It had been made into a movie. It's a book called Samskara. And it had been made into a movie. And his wife had translated the book into French. And then it had subsequently... No, it had been translated into English. She had translated it into French. But it's, you know, not a bestseller, not a book very many people know about. So I kind of wandered around Kepler's for about half an hour and something of a days.

[28:52]

Because I just thought, clearly, the recession has not affected what's happening here. As I'm a little prone to do, I eavesdropped on people's conversations. There's great people watching. Vivid demonstration of more. And then after I got my book, I went back downstairs to the underground parking garage. And as I was walking towards the car, out from among the cars came a black woman who was dressed nicely. Her clothes were quite clean, though very worn. And she looked upset. She said, Please, may I talk to you for a minute? And I said, Yes. So she then told me her story. She and her two daughters,

[29:55]

she said they were 11 and 13, had come down here from somewhere in Washington State. And she didn't have any money. And the homeless shelter she'd been directed to didn't have any room, wouldn't have any room. For a couple of nights. Had told her that she might try to find some other shelter, but they didn't have any leads for her. And she had, since the middle of the afternoon, been trying to get some information about some other place she might go. She'd finally found a motel where she could stay with her kids. She needed $36 to stay there until she could get into the shelter. She said, Can you help me? I had, I think, $10 or $11 in my purse, which I gave to her. And then I said, You know, there are a lot of people upstairs.

[30:59]

Why don't you go upstairs and see, ask people up there? She said, Oh, I've been up there. I've been up there for a long time. And I haven't been able to get anybody to even talk to me. They're too busy. So we talked for maybe 20 minutes. And because I don't know the area, I didn't have any idea at all where she might turn. I thought about directing her to the police. You know, I thought if I was in a strange town, maybe I'd go to the local police station. I thought, I wonder. I wonder, and I noticed I didn't suggest it to her because I wasn't so sure how good an idea it was. I realized I didn't know what to say to her. All I could do was visit with her for a little while. So she thanked me, and she went to the other end of the parking garage near the exit.

[32:05]

And as I drove out, we waved to each other. I pulled out onto the street and turned onto El Camino. You know, Saturday night, it was jumping out there just like in the bookstore. And as I pulled into the lane to go back to where I was staying, a car full of young black men came by, yelling at the driver of the car in the lane next to them, who was driving very slowly. And there was this kind of flare-up, yelling and hollering. And I could see this man kind of, it was like he was trying to be a turtle and disappear kind of into his sweater, hoping that these kids would go away. And there was this kind of flash of incredible angry energy. And I thought, this is amazing, you know, in the space of half an hour, in the space of a hundred yards,

[33:09]

is a microcosm of what's happening in our country and in our society. Between the second floor where the bookstore is and the ground floor where the parking garage was, this woman that I met was trying to find some help. It was such a dramatic picture of the haves and the have-nots. Some of us for the last while have been practicing not turning away from the suffering of the world, inspired by the Bodhisattva of Compassion, Avalokiteshvara, the regarder of the cries of the world. And I must say, in my sense of how little I could do in meeting this woman,

[34:11]

I had some struggle. I had to really remind myself, I can at least be willing to be with this person and have us spend a few minutes being kindly with each other. And so I've carried with me her face and some feeling in my heart about her in the last week since I met her. And whenever I think of her or see her face in my mind's eye, what comes up actually quite easily is, I hope that you're well and have enough to eat and a place to sleep. And every day to ask myself,

[35:15]

can I live in such a way that I can close that gap in my own life, in particular. That experience left me, wondering about, is it possible to feel some quality of satisfaction and also at the same time feel some arising of some sadness or concern for a situation. Because, of course, in that particular situation, because I had so much the sense of not doing enough in the face of this person who was standing in front of me, it was not a situation which I felt satisfied. So I'm hanging out in that region these days

[36:16]

and I would invite you to hang out in that region also. How much of a sense of satisfaction arises out of slowing down and posing for oneself the possibility of, if we're the more culture, more of less? What happens when I stay put? Well, one of the things that happens is being able to hear the sound of the Swainson's Thrush at dawn and dusk at this time of year.

[37:18]

In cleaning the counter in the kitchen, I moved some pieces of paper that clearly had not been moved for a little while because, lo and behold, what did I discover? But a whole universe of spiders. A mother spider and hundreds of babies. A microscopic world I know little about. I could certainly get the mother spider outside, but by the time I went back to get the babies, they were gone. They had split. Kind of marvel. No wonder there are so many spiders in the world. They're so productive. Two years ago, we planted some strawberries in a bed behind the house and we put some big stepping stones in amongst the plants.

[38:23]

Designed a strawberry grazing patch. And so every few days we can go out and graze in the strawberry patch. We may not even get as far as putting them in a bowl, although sometimes we do that also. To eat two or three vine-ripened strawberries, warm from the sun. Amazing experience. To eat a little less and to really savor and enjoy and remember gratitude. That strawberry patch is teaching me a lot. One for you, one for me. Three for you, one for me. The you being the birds, the bugs,

[39:29]

because they're all out there grazing also. We're remodeling an old pump house, which I'm going to use as an interview hut. I'm calling it the Gothic Pump House. It's a four by eight building that goes about 12 feet in the air. So what it lacks in width and depth, it gains in height. It's a very funny looking building. It's quite amusing. And the friend who's been helping us with it came to work on it yesterday and didn't bring his lunch. And I noticed, I invited him into the strawberry patch and I noticed him grazing out there with this big grin on his face. Of course, to do something like plant some plants and harvest the fruit or vegetables that come from those plants

[40:38]

means slowing down. Taking care of a garden has everything to do with a shift in pace. It means opening our eyes. It means noticing when some of the strawberries are ripe and when they're not. Our friends who love turkey told us on this same visit a couple of weeks ago about being out in a situation where they had found some ruins that were really thrilling that they were photographing. But they didn't expect to find them and so they didn't have any food with them. And to get some food they were going to have to drive a very long distance. It was going to mean figuring out some way of having two or three days to go away and come back.

[41:39]

And they decided for a variety of reasons, I don't know, that they couldn't do that. And just then they came upon an asparagus patch, a big field of asparagus. They grazed on baby asparagus. I said, did you cook them? Goodness, no, we just ate them. And there was something in the way Diane described that meal of asparagus consumed in the midst of the field. It was clear, clear that she was still savoring the taste of the asparagus and her gratitude at finding it. Nourishment in many different ways, many different levels of nourishment and satisfaction.

[42:42]

We recently went on a walk up on Mount Tamalpais and came upon, were in fact surprised by, as we surprised, a skunk. She was as close maybe as you are from me, Julie. I'd never seen a skunk up that close. It was very satisfying. I had enough skunk. With her tail in full alert display telling me I better watch out as she headed not away from us but towards us. Thank goodness we had our dog on a leash. It was pretty exciting though. She was a noteworthy critter to meet. Quite beautiful, undaunted by our presence. Quite the opposite. Scoot was her message.

[43:53]

That same day we came upon some native flower that looks a little like an orchid. And saw wild azaleas stood in the midst of the bushes surrounded by their perfume. Past some trails that had begun to erode that had been worked on, rerouted by the park service and some volunteer trail crews, no doubt. I felt very satisfied with that sense of the mountain being taken care of. All week we've been hearing the sound of the eucalyptus grove on the Franks Valley Road being taken down by a crew that the GGNRA has put together. Terrible racket, but really thrilling to see the eucalyptus trees. Thinned out.

[44:55]

A chance for the native plants and trees to be in that valley. The crew working very carefully. Every time we've gone by, waving and saying hello. Cleaning up after themselves. Doing their work wholeheartedly and carefully. The satisfaction of finding the long-lost garden shovel in under some brush where it had been hiding, where it had been left months ago. Nobody stole it. Someone mindlessly put it down and forgot it was there. Satisfaction. Satisfaction of finding it again. Be open to seeing them. How much of my capacity for satisfaction

[45:58]

depends upon my willingness to notice when I am not satisfied and to pay attention to the habits I have that lead to that condition of mind rather than the one we call being satisfied. How much of my capacity for satisfaction is in my hands at any given moment? And how much of my dissatisfaction is a consequence of my disturbed state of mind, my not paying attention, my not considering the small and simple possibilities directly and immediately available to me moment by moment? How much satisfaction awaits me if I simply remember to just slow down, to sit down, to enjoy this physical body,

[47:03]

my ability to walk and to see and to hear, to settle with and be with breath as it rises and falls? What surprising consequences come if I do an ancient practice like that of cultivating my capacity for restraint? I've recently been reading Rumi. I'm interested in what he has to say about surrender. And there's a poem which I've read before but which I want to read a little piece of again today as a way of closing where he describes a practice of restraint. This is from One-Handed Basket Weaving and it's the title poem. There was a dervish who lived alone in the mountains

[48:06]

who made a vow never to pick fruit from the trees or to shake them down or to ask anyone to pick fruit for him. I'd be in big trouble in our strawberry patch, wouldn't I? Only what the wind makes fall. This was his way of giving in to God's will. So for a while in the joy of the wind out of this surrender he woke each dawn with a new direction to follow. But then came five days with no wind and no pears fell. He patiently restrained himself until a breeze blew just strong enough to lower a bough full of ripe pears close to his hand but not strong enough to detach the pears. He reached out and picked one. So that's where the edge is, isn't it?

[49:06]

Can I be skillful in picking a practice of restraint that I actually can follow? Not have it be too much but just enough so I can play with that edge between restraint and losing it. If I can stay in that region I may discover some things about the causes and conditions of satisfaction, of happiness, and of joy that allows me to live in such a way that includes all beings and things and is not instead of the lives and quality of living of others. Thank you very much. May our intention equally penetrate every being and place

[50:13]

with the true merit of Buddha's way. Thank you. Thank you.

[51:22]

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

[52:52]

Good morning. Welcome to our 10th Zen Do. This is the first morning we've actually had it set up both as a lecture hall and a Zen Do. So we are now sitting daily here each morning and you're welcome to join us. We sit at 5.30 to 6 o'clock and then there is a 10-minute walking meditation and then from 6.10 to 6.40 we sit and then there's a short service. And if you'd like to join us that is Saturday through Thursday each morning. And I might mention a little of how we get in and out of here because as you'll notice there's two different surfaces. So if you're sitting in the chair area what we'd like you to do is to wear shoes and not to walk in your bare feet or socks. Not because that hurts your feet or socks but because there's a tendency then to step onto these mats after having been on the grass.

[53:54]

And what we'd like is if you walk on these mats to actually not walk on these mats with anything that's been on the grass or the ground because it leaves these little round burrs on these mats. And then we'd have a tendency to get them in our socks or our feet when we walk around here even though we clean it each day. I've noticed people have complained about little burrs in their feet. So if you'll notice which area you're entering then wear the corresponding foot gear or no foot gear. Our class has ended last week and so we are now beginning about a three week or two and a half week period of no classes. And we'll have some events going on during that time period which I'll mention. But classes will start up again in actually three weeks today, June 28th. And they'll start up with the life of the Buddha and the... I'm not sure, a class on the sutra.

[54:57]

I can't read my writing here. Pardon? The Lotus Sutra. And then on Monday, a reb will continue his class in the Book of Serenity. And Norman is teaching the... Norman, are you teaching the Vimalakirti? No, Shantideva. Shantideva. Uh-huh. And that'll be on Tuesdays. And so that will start on Tuesday, the 30th of June. So coming up this week, there's a couple interesting things. On Tuesday evening, there's a gentleman called Satish Kumar. And Satish Kumar is the creator of Schumacher College in England. And it's a place that our Abbot Redwynn taught for about five weeks in the fall of last year. So that's Tuesday evening at 7.30 in the Wheelwright Center. And then Wednesday evening at 7.30,

[55:58]

probably in the Wheelwright Center, but possibly in here, is a Dharma talk also by our Abbot. And then the city center asked me and announced that they're having a talk by a... I believe his first name is William. I don't know. On the 30th of June. So that's two weeks away, two Tuesdays away from now, at 8 o'clock. And he has been here before and has traveled around the world and given a variety of different talks, both on Zen and other areas of Buddhism. Now I think Ted is somewhere. There's Ted. Ted has a few things to say.

[56:38]

@Text_v004
@Score_JJ