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. Last Monday evening I was at an event where I was asked to read a Buddhist blessing for Belfast that I had written at the request of the mayor. And here's the Buddhist blessing for Belfast. May unceasing love embrace all in our city. In peace and well-being may we bridge our differences with understanding. May we call forth an ability of spirit that can inspire and support us to live as one community celebrating our diversity.

[01:08]

Northern Ireland, of which Belfast is the main city, went through about a 40-something year process. started off with civil rights march that turned into 30 plus years of violence and civil strife, ended up in reconciliation, and ended up with a Buddhist chaplain who writes things like this. And it set me thinking, what is this process in our human lives? Things are going to happen. It just seems to be our human nature. Inside of ourselves, with the people closest to us, who we espouse to love deeply, and with us as nations.

[02:22]

Thinking of the politicians in Washington. deciding the best strategy was complete non-cooperation and discovering when you really don't cooperate, you'll accomplish nothing. Maybe it's the start of a new era. And then here within our center, Abbot Steve Stuckey, becoming grievously ill and the normalcy of the life of our center. It's 71, what is that, 42 years ago since we had an abbot who died, who got ill and died. And now it's going to happen again. In this way in which

[03:26]

Each of us, singularly and then collectively, we create a normal with its seeming permanence or predictability. And in that way in which impermanence takes it apart, tears it open, and asks us to relate in a completely different way. And so recently I've been talking about how this is both a tragedy, can be a tragedy, and can also, there's a way in which when we turn towards it, there's a way in which when we open to it, the very fierceness of it, the gravity of it. after 30 years of sectarian violence, you start to say, haven't we done this long enough?

[04:32]

Hopefully our politicians will look at each other and say, is this how we want to be known? Accomplishing nothing. The gravity of the circumstance, the situation, the fragility of our lives, drawing us down into a more centered, thoughtful, compassionate place. And I quoted a Zen card that says, medicine and disease together create the path. That's not what it says, I know, but it says medicine and disease harmonize, together create the gas show of practice.

[05:38]

The whole world is medicine. The whole world has the potential for medicine. the very difficulties and afflictions and distractions and preoccupations that come up for us in our sitting can be the agent of becoming centered, becoming grounded, meeting the fragility, the dis-ease of human life with compassion, with patience, with generosity. These three factors. generosity, discipline, and patience are the first three factors of the paramitas, the attributes of being that create wholeness. And how

[06:50]

as we meet, as we allow ourselves to open to, to be opened by what arises. There's a strange and wonderful way in which it doesn't leave us devastated. It doesn't empty us in a way it supports us. It fills us up with a different possibility. It inspires us to write a blessing for our city. And what city could not benefit from this? May we call forth the nobility of spirit that can inspire and support us. to live as one community celebrating our diversity.

[07:55]

And how much of something, the opposite of that, do we have to endure before we listen, before we can take it to heart? And then the other comment I mentioned in a recent talk was every day is a good day. Within Zen way of thinking every day is a good day includes every day is not a good day. Some days are terrible days. And no day really is perfect. but every day has a precious gift. Here's a poem by Naomi Shihabnai, The Garden of Abu Mahud.

[09:22]

He said every morning, find him here. Before the water boiled on the flame, he came out to this garden. Dug hands in the earth, saying, I know you. And earth crumbled rich layers. And this result of their knowing, a hillside on which no inch went unsung. His enormous onions held light. And the trees, So weighed with fruits, the branches needed to be tied up. He called it, all the words of any language connecting to the deep place of darkness and seed. He called it in Arabic, my darling tomato. And it called him governor, king. And some days, He wore no shoes.

[10:24]

The ferocity of life, humbling us, humbling with the same root is humus of the earth. that way in which the fragility of our lives, the tentative nature of what we have, quickens us to a place of appreciation. And how that quickening is aided by a stillness, a holding still, as in Pablo Neruda's famous poem. For once, on the face of the earth, let's not speak in any language. Let's stop for a second and not move our arms so much.

[11:41]

It would be an exotic moment. Without rush, without engines, we would all be together in a sudden strangeness. I don't want... What I want should not be confused with total inactivity. Life is what it's about. I want no truck with death. And perhaps the earth can teach us as when everything seems dead and later proves to be alive. I'll count to 12 and you can keep quiet and I will go. you turned up a little? You couldn't hear that? I'll read it again. For once, on the face of the earth, let's not speak in any language.

[12:47]

Let's stop for one second and not move our arms so much. It would be an exotic moment without rush, without engines, and we would all be together in a sudden strangeness. What I want should not be confused with total inactivity. Life is what it's about. I want no truck with death. And perhaps the earth can teach us as when everything seems dead and later proves to be alive. Now, I'll count to 12, You can keep quiet and I will go. And the image, the spirit of practices, that this stillness is Zazen.

[13:52]

And it's not a stillness. as Pablo Neruda says, that's lifeless, or in a way, even still. It's just the reactiveness, the clamor, the agitation, the resistance. The stubbornness within us that says, I will not cooperate. It has to be my way. that we look at what's underneath. We look at the fear. What are we afraid of? What terrible thing will happen if it doesn't happen my way? What terrible thing will happen if we don't create us and them?

[14:53]

And is there anything within our human agency that can stop the fragility of life taking away the people we love and care for, including ourselves? So this kind of settling in Zazen is radically honest, and radically courageous. And then it comes forth into the world as generosity, as kindness. The first paramita, giving. We live in this world where we're constantly confronted with materialist slogans, you know?

[16:06]

This would make you happier. This being a material thing. And sometimes we're persuaded. The new iPhone. Or maybe you've switched over to the galaxy, whatever number it is now. because the iPhone didn't quite do it. And the galaxy has a slightly bigger screen. Because if this much is good, this much is better. And yet when we pause for a moment, we quickly Realize the things we want to give and the things we want to receive are not material.

[17:09]

We want to receive understanding. We want to receive trust and respect and appreciation. We want to give patience and acceptance. We want to give thoughtfulness. These qualities that are innate in our being. We don't need a better education to have them, or more money, or live in a different city, or country. And yet how interesting it is they can prove so elusive.

[18:13]

How interesting that a group of people, mostly men, would devote their lives to politics and reach the seat of highest authority and commit to non-cooperation. with some sense of being that this is purposeful, noble, effective, that future generations will look back and say, thank you. But what is it that's happening that allows that perspective to prevail. And I don't mean to just simply cast accusations or judgments.

[19:20]

I think we're all complicit. We voted for them. But what is... the transformative agency that allows us to connect to generosity with conviction. That allows us to say, giving respect is important. Part of my to-do list today is giving respect. It has more importance in the territory of my life than being oppositional, resistant, conjuring up negative comments, negative thoughts and judgments about them.

[20:34]

And as a paramita, as a form of activity that stimulates wholeness, integrity, completeness. As such, the agency of giving in a way is an antidote to our stuckness. It's an antidote to whatever within us that says, Hold back. Don't cooperate. Insist your way or the highway. Hold on to this normalcy. And even when it's changing, resist. And if that doesn't work, go into a place of distress, denial, agitation. And of course, by the time we reach there...

[21:44]

the purposefulness of our life is dissipated. But what is it to bring into our life the thoughtfulness of generosity that in its magical way fills us rather than empties us. When we give respect, we feel more. We are not diminished by it. When we're patient with ourself and with others, it doesn't leave us more agitated.

[22:45]

It helps draw us closer to what within us feels appropriate and noble. So in the paradigm of Zen, we sit and we get as intimate with the inner workings of this as we can. And then we get up off our cushion and we... enter the world, every part of it, the tragedies of serious illness, the things that come to hand, the news of how our politicians are behaving, and let each one of them be met with generosity. read on the internet this week that there's almost 30 million slaves in the world.

[23:53]

Amazing. How utterly, utterly awful that there would be even one slave in the world. But this is our world. We share it. we don't have an option to go to some other world. And can these snippets of information, these perspectives, can they draw us back to now? Can they draw us back to this place that in our own way we plunge our hands into the soil of life and let something grow rather than take from it in a way that makes it more impoverished or infertile.

[25:11]

And in the teachings of the Dharma, this is generous spirit. And generous spirit is not one way. We give and we receive. As the image Naomi's creating of her friend, Abu Mahud, he gives to the soil and the soil gives him gleaming onions. fruit trees with bending branches, heavy with wood. We had a meeting here at Zen Center. We were actually to discuss, now that one of our abbots is no longer able to fill his role, what shall we do? And we came to the meeting with the notion, we will fix things.

[26:23]

We will think about who will be the next abbot. We will fill the responsibilities and duties that he's not fulfilling. And as we talked, we realized collectively It's important that one of the first things we do is nothing. We've suffered a great loss that can't be fixed. There's no to-do list that fixes our heartbreak, our sense of loss. We hold still. We let the gravity of it reverberate through our hearts and minds, through our collective being.

[27:24]

And Yon Man says, the author of Medicine and Disease Harmonize Each Other, Yon Man says, this is how disease becomes medicine. And at the end of our meeting, we said, we'll hold still and we'll do nothing. We won't do nothing forever. Because life goes on. But we won't rush either. And at the end of the meeting, someone said, I just want to say to everybody, I love you. That way, when something's taken away, when we touch the laws, it draws us to a place of giving.

[28:47]

And what we want to receive in that moment is not the latest galaxy. We want to receive appreciation, kindness, empathy. This is the medicine we yearn for. And as I watched this person, they were sitting quite close to me, about this far away, and I could see or I could feel their natural shyness created hesitancy. But the imperative of the moment, of the sentiment brought forth the words,

[29:55]

This way in which our generosity invites us into a bigger way of being. That often our containment in the service of normalcy, in the service of self preservation. We hold back. Sometimes as simple as our shyness, sometimes with the fearfulness of impoverishment, there isn't enough. I need to hold on to this.

[30:57]

And how the act of generosity quickly confines that. That when we give these precious things in life, appreciation, empathy, gratitude, respect, their enrichment allows us to hold self-concern more lightly, more tenderly. We can see it as more as the reverberation of what has hurt us. You know, when I was asked to write this blessing for Belfast, the city where I grew up, and I grew up in the heartland of the difficult part of the city.

[32:12]

And the person who asked me to write it grew up there too. Maybe growing up there, I resented it. I feared it. I wished for it to be different. In some ways. In some ways, it's not true. As a child, it was just the way the world is. I had no thoughts of other. But over the years, of contraction, of agitation, of hostility, of discrimination, of sectarian violence. And then coming to a place of invitation to say something generous.

[33:20]

A blessing. Who would you not want to bless? Who would you not want to feel settled in their being and in touch with their integrity, their courage, their generosity, their patience, their capacity for respect, and gratitude for others. And as we bring this forth, as we let it come from the seed into the flower, we're enriched. This marvelous way, we give and we immediately receive.

[34:33]

What about our own fair city of San Francisco? May unceasing love embrace all in our city. What city would that not work for? In peace and well-being, may we bridge our differences with understanding. May we call forth an ability of spirit that can inspire and support us to live as one community, celebrating our diversity. this strange combination of that which harms us or that which causes dis-ease and that which heals it, that which brings forth healing, renewal, wholeness.

[36:14]

As we get up off our cushions and enter the world, to let the world and how we relate to the world keep teaching us. He had also lived in Spain. So as we stood under the Glace Locot Tree telling of the Madres y Malagros with clumsy tongues, it seemed strange in a mouth. of this Arab, but no more so than everything else. He said, every morning find him here. Before the water boiled on the flame, he came out to this garden, dug hands into earth, saying, I know you. And earth crumbled rich layers, and this result of their knowing, a hillside in which no inch went unsung.

[37:24]

His enormous onions held light, and the trees so weighed with fruits that he tied the branches up. And he called it kerido, korazon, all the words of any language connecting to this deep place of darkness and seed. He called it ya habibi in Arabic. my darling tomato. And it called him governor, king. And some days he wore no shoes. To let your life grow. To let life grow. to let life grow you.

[38:27]

Not as a fierce triumph of determination, but as a simple act of kindness. How do we be such a person? Every day is a good day. 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.

[39:33]

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