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. Is this mic in a good place and am I loud enough? We're okay. The furthest in the corner needs to... Okay. I begin with a koan-esque question. How do we wield liberating power in a context with oppressive institutions, teachings, and practices? This question undergirds of mud and lotuses dreaming the lives of Buddhist women and led me to begin forming principles and approaches for a Buddhist liberation dharmology. I reflect on and theorize applications of teachings, texts, and practices, highlighting those that generate suffering and liberation, especially for women.

[01:14]

Advancing a Buddhist liberation dharmology involves acknowledging the ways in which people have been oppressed and suffered from institutions, teachings, and practices that fall under the Buddhist umbrella. And recognizing how wielding liberating power is available to all. So, How do we hear the voices of the oppressed and the liberated, especially those who lived long ago, if records of their lives, emotions, and thoughts are unavailable? That is a big question that deserves sustained attention. I focus on strategies of listening to the voices of Buddhist women where each voice we hear functions like a distillation of countless voices that we have not heard.

[02:23]

The numerous stories of powerful women I have encountered in my historical studies inspired me to elaborate on the available historical examples to provide vividly detailed stories of the many ways Buddhist women of the past have liberated themselves and others. To explore the possibilities of what might have happened, for which we do not have evidence, I envision ways women in various times and places might have navigated misogynist texts rules, and situations they may have faced. We know that women have been active since the inception of the Buddhist tradition. Moreover, that all people come out of a woman's womb is an underappreciated fact in much of historical analysis and is often treated as if it were just a metaphor.

[03:33]

The fact that without a woman, the Buddhist tradition would not have been born is in some ways simplistic and other ways fundamental. Focusing on this fact can help us see how women have been practically, historically, and conceptually vital to the founding and development of this tradition. Women actively nurtured in their bodies and fed from their breasts all those who followed the Buddha. Women were successful in raising a tradition that now spans the world and for over 2,500 years offered direction to those aching to stop suffering. fortified by research and amplified by imagination, I've employed the creative expedient of storytelling to bring to life Buddhist women over the centuries who laughed and cried in many ways that are continuous with our own.

[04:48]

I focus my imagination, my imaginative efforts, on filling out our view of women's contributions since Buddhist history is commonly presented as if it were mostly a male monastic tradition. This is a stunning insertion of imagination, because most history writers saw and likely even relied on women every single day. To engage an informed imagination to remove some of the distortions generated by an imagined world with few female actors is what I have come to think of as an act of restorative justice. Illuminating the view of history from the underside of repressive structures, teachings, and practices often yields a fuller view than from above.

[05:52]

Moreover, to widen the lens is an act of compassion, to not continue further delusions about Buddhist history and the women who helped make the tradition thrive. My stories of creative histories present women liberating dharma from patriarchal and misogynist views, as well as dharma liberating women from suffering. I was planning on writing a story about a Chinese nun meditating in a cave in the cliffs above Suzhou in the 17th century. I was going to have her demonstrate her wisdom by having her write poetry. Then I realized that it would be a wasted story because Dr. Beata Grant had already beautifully translated into English a body of Chinese Buddhist nuns exquisite and profound poetry.

[06:59]

I shifted gears and gathered my spunk and courage to be a progressive 21st century scholar storyteller and create a nun who wrote a sutra. When I told Beata my idea, she graciously informed me. Paula, there were women associated with sutras in China dating back to the 5th century. A 5th century girl known as Nidze, or little nun, is reported to have received 21 sutras. Empress Shu, 1361 to 1407, received a sutra in the 14th century. She records in her preface to the Sutra that the Bodhisattva of Compassion, Guan Yin, approached her in a dream and revealed the Sutra to her.

[08:02]

The title of the Sutra is, Rarest Sutra of Great Merit Spoken by the Buddha and Received by the Empress Humane and Filial of the Great Ming in a Dream. During the Ming Dynasty, Empress Dowager received a sutra in a dream, as Empress Dowager lied. These examples illustrate the available evidence of women with deep, strong, and visionary wisdom. They also made me wonder how much more women might have accomplished that I never imagined. I hope to stimulate and empower people to reflect on the fact that sutras are historical documents. As such, unfortunately, there are sutras that generate suffering and are not in accord with liberative teachings and practices, including teachings that women's bodies are polluted.

[09:13]

Women can't be reborn in the pure land. and women can't be chakravartans, wheel-turning leaders. Though historians have gone to great effort to disparage and dismiss Empress Wu, the one who supported the great interpreter of the Avatamsaka Sutra, Fatsang, Think golden lion metaphor and hall of mirrors reflecting a single candle all in one, one in all. Empress Wu reigned over the Zhou dynasty from 690 to 715. Yet every time the dates of the Tang dynasty, one of the major Chinese dynasties, are written as 618 through 907, which is common, including on a didactic I recently saw at the Met for a towering stone carving of Guan Yin, such dating deletes a powerful Buddhist woman from history with a simple hyphen.

[10:27]

Although my story of a nun receiving a sutra is not revolutionary, because history was more progressive than I had imagined, I decided to continue with my plan to write a story of a nun receiving a sutra. Here is an excerpt of that story. We enter the story with a nun, Mei Hua, having finished a three-year retreat on a mountain above Sizhou in the 17th century. She brushes the sutra she hears emanating from the mountain. Sutra on the Liberating Senses of the Dharma Body. Guan Ying attunes her senses to the music of liberation and purveys the world. She hears the heartbeat of the world, birds opening the morning with song, water lapping on the shore.

[11:34]

Cicadas swelling with undulating whirs in the summer heat. Bamboo leaves rustling in the breeze. Snowflakes pattering. She sees the jewels of the world. Ruby sunsets. Silver mist dancing among the trees. Amber leaves falling. Amethyst mountain peaks. golden moon rises. She tastes the healing of the world, melting ice feeding a mountain spring, dewdrops quenching thirsty grass, mushrooms feasting on decaying leaves, crickets nibbling fiddlehead ferns, bears munching berries. She smells the beauty of the world, plum blossoms peeking through falling snow, a cup of jasmine tea, spring rain, freshly tilled soil, pine needles underfoot.

[12:53]

She touches the kindness of the world, bed of moss, smooth bark, velvety leaf, cloud shielding the full force of the summer sun, warm hand. She contemplates the cries of the world, orphaned fledglings cheeping in their nest, a childless couple setting out food for roaming cats, drought-parched crops Sighing as they wilt, bones of a mother fox who did not make it back to the den, brush crackling in consuming flames. As Guan Yin perceives the suffering of the world conducting vital energy, her dharma body responds with cosmic resonance.

[13:58]

harmonizing all phenomena in a symphony of liberation. Mehua placed her sutra in a cedar box with her other valuables and then went into a deep sleep. Having accomplished her aim, she planned to return to Purple Cloud Temple when dawn broke. However, lightning struck and she awoke to fire. She grabbed the cedar box, placed it in her meditation cave for safekeeping, then raced down the craggy mountain to safety. Mehua wondered if one day someone would find the sutra treasured away inside the cave. Buddhist women cared for Buddhists, starting from inside their wombs. We do not have a lot of evidence of their effective action. And we do, sorry, we do have a lot of evidence of their effective action and deep commitments.

[15:07]

All we have to do is look around at the results of their efforts, especially a parent in the home. Domestic Dharma revolves around practices that contribute to caring for a home and its inhabitants. Such practices radiate out from the home as its inhabitants move in the world. The lacuna in our attention and understanding of domestic life stirred a story in my mind about a lay woman from an earlier period of the Buddhist tradition. As Sujata offered rice gruel to Shakyamuni before he attained enlightenment under the Bodhi tree, women have cooked food for monastics every single day since. Shakyamuni began teaching Dharma over 2,500 years.

[16:12]

That's a lot of food. making the paucity of information on their lives untenable. Since the inception of the Buddhist tradition, women have organized their day to prepare the menu, gather the ingredients, cook the food, serve it, and clean up the dishes afterward, often while tending to the wide-ranging needs of children and the infirm. I want these women to be visible and acknowledged for the essential work they do on behalf of Buddhist communities. The continuous flourishing of the Buddhist tradition is proof of their existence and contributions. But we do not have records of their names. So I created a fictive character, including Molly. her family, and a monk gathering alms, and framed them in documented geographical, historical, and culinary details.

[17:19]

Molly's story makes palpable the strength it takes to carry water, the organization and planning required to respond to a range of fluctuating needs, The calculations required to be efficient in preparing a sufficient quantity of food without being wasteful. And the management involved in raising children, exacerbated by the challenges when people get sick. That so many people survived childhood and that monastics have received food every day for 2,500 years demonstrates that these women cared and that they knew what they were doing. Here's an excerpt from that story. In the pre-dawn air in a fifth-century Sri Lankan village outside of Anuradhapura, Molly carries a large clay vessel as she heads out to fetch the first water for the day.

[18:27]

Usually, her sister-in-law, Dupani, did this, but last night she started feeling feverish. Fevers sometimes come and go quickly, and Molly prays that this will be the case for Dupani. At the well, she greets other women from the village and mentions she is there due to her sister-in-law's feeling under the weather. Everyone pauses in silence, as if to quickly pray the fever will be quick, for they each know such things can become bad. They also know what it is like when one set of hands is unavailable to help with the prodigious morning chores. Upon returning home with the water, Molly matter-of-factly cooked the rice. There were 24 mouths to feed this morning, seven children, Nine adults and eight monks. However, the three younger children and her grandparents-in-law typically ate less than the others.

[19:32]

To minimize waste, she calculates the volume accordingly. Given that today her sister-in-law is not feeling well, she considers that too. As the children grow, she also observes how much more they are eating so she can adjust the quantity of rice. The length of time and amount of water needed to cook the rice varies by volume. And Molly focuses her awareness to make sure the texture is consistent, not too hard, not too soft. She cooks rice three times a day. Their family is committed to offering the venerable monks alms as often as they can. They are blessed to live where they can see the majestic 400-foot-tall Jetavana stupa in the distance. Though it was completed nearly 100 years ago, their family still talks about making bricks as their contribution to the massive effort to build it.

[20:40]

When the project first began, eager children gathered sand at a handful at a time. And by the completion of the stupa 15 years later, they were able to carry as much as any adult. Such stories never grow old, because each brick made, carried, and placed was baked with the prayers of the villagers, brick by brick. they helped construct a monumental stupa with their bare hands. Molly was 16 when her mother first took her to join the women to offer food for the venerables. The women gathered in their saris of yellows, greens, and reds reminded her of colorful flowers consecrating an altar for the Buddha. To finally be included in this virtuous ritual that shaped the flow of their lives was an acknowledgment of their faith in her.

[21:42]

Although as a child she helped to prepare the food for the Venerables, it was a sign that she was recognized as a woman to offer the food directly to them. Her immense respect for the Venerables' dedication to Dharma made her a little nervous as she used the large serving spoon to put rice into his substantial alms bowl. Being so close to someone who meditated, chanted in Pali, and could read the Lord Buddha's words in the suttas was an honor. The Venerable, who came that morning to gather alms for himself and seven other monks, kept eyes downcast as the women put food into the bowl. He looked to be the age of her brother and made her wonder how this venerable was able to know the celibate life of a monk was for him. Just as Molly thought that, he raised his gaze and their eyes met for a flash.

[22:46]

It sounded like thunder in her heart. Later, she realized it was likely because she was new to the offering line. But she wondered if it was hard for him. to receive food from a woman's hand. To this day, each of the 15 years of mourning since that first day, Molly still finds deep satisfaction in putting the rice she just cooked into the spacious alms bowls as the venerable files passed. She wondered if Sujata felt the same contentment not knowing if the person she was feeding rice porridge to was going to be a Buddha. Supporting such earnest people makes Molly's days more meaningful. It makes her a stronger, more caring and thoughtful person to wake up extra early to cook and offer them rice. Though she does not have interest in meditating,

[23:51]

Molly knows in her heart that her rice is an essential contribution to the community of awakening. Characteristic domestic Dharma activities also support families through unanticipated, uncontrollable, and tragic events that generate deep suffering. To bring this to life, I wrote a story situated in Tokyo spanning the great Kanto earthquake, natural disaster of 1923, and the human-made ravages of World War II. Over 1,500 years, Dharma teachings became woven into the fabric of daily life in Japanese culture. It is easy to miss the power of these teachings, especially when they are seen as ordinary, routine, and natural. People are often not conscious that they are engaging Dharma. For instance, a Japanese mother is often a child's first Buddhist teacher, even if she is not intentionally trying to transmit Dharma.

[25:00]

Mothers, however, rarely receive acknowledgment for being a person's first Buddhist teacher. Nonetheless, as they respond to familial needs on a daily basis or in a crisis, many women have become adept at wielding the liberating power of Dharma. The daily rhythm of life for the Ishikawa family was governed by the needs of running their soba shop, Waraku. Their eldest son, Isamu, lived with them to help run the soba shop, and he married Emiko in 1920. Life was stable and cheerful. One Saturday, Oji-chan went to Asakusa with an old friend who wanted to go to Senso-ji, an ancient and powerful temple to pray to Kannon for his aging mother. She had caught a cold that was not only not clearing up, but seemed to be getting worse. After offering incense, they waved the smoke over their bodies, especially over their heads and hearts.

[26:07]

They wanted to transport the healing blessings to their families. They went up to the main altar, threw coins in the offering box, and bowed their heads for an extended time. As they left the temple, the earth beneath them, their feet suddenly began to shake and roar, an earthquake. When it was over, 140,000 people, Oji-chan and his friend among them, had perished in what had become known as the Great Kanto Earthquake on September 1, 1923. Obachan was made a widow at 49. Because she was not alone in her tragic loss, Obachan did not succumb to self-pity, though grief flooded her and everyone else in the family with sorrow. They all still interacted with Ojichan at their home altar. His photo and the mortuary tablet that had his Buddha's name engraved on it were placed inside the altar.

[27:14]

Death can dissolve delusions, so upon passing, a loved one is recognized as a personal Buddha, an enlightened being who deeply understands and clearly sees you. Persimmons were one of Oji-chan's favorite fruits, so when they ripened later that fall, they offered him some on the altar and ate them as a family at a low table nearby. It felt like Oji-chan was there. Although Kazuki was only a year old when Oji-chan passed, he grew up having regular conversations with him as part of the family. All important milestones were shared with Oji-chan, such as when Kazuki began to talk, start in school, and learn to ride a bike. Kazuki drew Oji-chan's favorite foods and always offered them to him first on the altar. Kazuki felt Oji-chan caring for him.

[28:17]

He felt connected and protected. Though no one told him directly, Kazuki learned in his bones that death was not the end of a relationship. Indeed, he never thought otherwise because the continued connection was all he ever knew. The home altar was an anchor for the heart of the family. It helped them to stay moored when life did not go as hoped. The family consulted Oji-chan on matters of importance or those that caused anxiety, for he was the fount of wisdom in the family. When requesting encouragement from Oji-chan, one could practically hear him intone the motto, seven times down, eight times up. It was his favorite mantra. and he never tired of using it to encourage people to get up and continue on, even after falling down seven times. He proclaimed, as long as you are alive, you can get up.

[29:23]

Even in death, he spurred people to rise and go on. Meals were a time for nourishing both body and heart, Kazuki grew up with the family putting their hands together in prayer, bowing and saying, itadakimasu, before eating. Gratitude was a staple, and it was always expressed with a bow. Being grateful meant to be consciously aware of all the beings, including the sun, rain, and soil that contributed to the food on their table. The care of farmers bending their backs for hours and hours, days upon days, to plant and tend the rice and vegetables were all, in a sense, at the table. If Kazuki expressed dislike for some food by eating around it and leaving the unfavored items in his bowl, someone at the table, mostly obaachan, would say, ,, which meant

[30:29]

It's bad to favor or dislike. This one bit of advice required Kazuki to cultivate patience, to not just think about himself, and to respect others who supported him, even those he could not actually see. Growing up repeatedly hearing this, Hearing that it was bad to favor or dislike eventually led him to a deeper understanding of how he was a part of an interrelated web of relationships. His feelings, choices, and actions affected others. He came to realize that it was not that he didn't matter, but that others mattered too. He could not survive, much less exist, were it not for the help of others. No one ever talked about these things as Buddhist teachings. Kazuki was 19 when Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, escalating the war ravaging the world.

[31:31]

In search of the meaning of life, he read a short introductory book on Buddhist teachings. He was surprised to learn that the admonition to not favor a dislike steered him away from two of the three poisons that generate suffering. greed, and hatred. The constant reminders to be respectful and grateful for others hedged him away from the third poison, delusion, especially the root delusion of being a separate self. He asked his mom if she was trying to teach him to be a Buddhist, but she said she was not. She was just trying to raise him to be respectful and grateful. The book He read, never mentioned Buddhist altars in the home. So Kazuki asked if the altar made them Buddhist. His mom responded, I never thought of it that way. It's just the way we respect and let Oji-chan know we are grateful to him.

[32:34]

One day, the letter the family had dreaded arrived, conscripting Kazuki into the war on April 10, 1942. Every morning thereafter, Obachan asked Oji-chan to watch over their grandson. Snow covered Tokyo on Sunday, February 25, 1945. Isamu was riding his bicycle to visit a friend when out of nowhere, a B-29 bomber appeared over his head and dropped its bombs. His wife, Emiko, became a widow at age 45. Isamo, Kazuki's father. Obacan knew him to be there for Emiko. Obacan knew how to be there for Emiko after losing her husband. But she did not know how to be with herself outliving her son. She was numb.

[33:35]

Both of them were numb. Seven times down, eight times up, ring, hollow. The war had ripped their hearts out. Although they had miraculously survived the firebombing raid that desecrated Tokyo and the atomic bombs that obliterated Hiroshima and Nagasaki, they were incomprehensible. Their fear and love for Kazuki were the only things that kept them going. When the war was declared over on September 2, 1945, they thought the hell they had been enduring over the past six months had ended. They thought no news about Kazuki was good news, but still they could not exhale. They rose every morning and prayed to Oji-chan and Isamu that today would be the day Kazuki came home from the war.

[34:37]

Autumn foliage fell. No kazuki. Snow fell. No kazuki. Spring flowers bloomed. No kazuki. On May 26, 1946, 266 days after the war had ended, each day suspended in an eternal limbo of hope and agony, Kazuki came home. The three of them sobbed cathartic tears as they lit incense and thanked Oji-chan and Papa Isamu for protecting Kazuki. Kazuki, however, was a ghost of the young man who went to war four years earlier. He could not unsee or unhear the horrors he had lived through. Even though being home was a relief, he doubted he had any purpose for existing.

[35:42]

Kazuki went through the motions of getting up and helping out. He repaired damage, the soba shop and house sustained during the war. As the months passed, Kazuki began to hear Oji-chan whisper in his ear, seven times tau, eight. Kazuki started repeating it under his breath as he went through the day finding things to repair and neighbors to help. It was now his mantra, yet he felt ashamed that he did not feel gratitude for being alive or for his beloved Obachan and mother's survival when hundreds of thousands had been killed, including his own father. Finally, in a quiet conversation on the Engawa, Kazuki opened up and confessed to Obachan that during the war, he had learned to hate. Obachan, too, had to confront the hatred that had burned in her heart after Kazuki's father, her eldest son, was killed.

[36:51]

The hatred consumed all the light in her world. She was angry at everything, including Oji-chan for not protecting their son from harm. Even though she had survived night after night of fire bombings, she too had no sense of gratitude. Kazuki's mom joined them on the Engawa. She confessed that she too had to wrestle with the hatred that was burning her up from the inside out, especially after her husband was killed by an indiscriminate bomb. They sat in silence and let the tears come. None of them had cried over the losses of the war until now. Through the long war, they had each been held in suspended animation, afraid to live.

[37:53]

Obachan broke the silence with a thunderous proclamation that erupted from the depths of her being. There are no enemies. She gasped as if she had heard that commanding voice coming from someone else other than within her. The armor she had shielded her heart with cracked open. Her voice rumbled with determination as a part of her old self buried under the rubble of war rose up. Suki kirai wa damek. It's bad to favor or dislike, whether it's vegetables or people. . Exhaling audibly, Kazuki's mom got up to cut some persimmons. Kazuki offered some to Oji-chan and Papa first. They sat together and savored the flavor of autumn

[38:57]

Sighing, Obachan gazed beyond the treetops where the sunset had painted the sky in soft pinks and purples. It probably had done so countless times in the past years, but she had not looked up to see. She motioned with her head for the others to look up, too. Gratitude began to trickle into their aching but healing. I'm jumping, unless I can really go to 1110. Okay, then let me share. If I'm not reading too fast, going too fast, okay? Listening to the voices of contemporary women living in the West adds raw and nuanced details to the depth and strength of women wielding liberating power in their lives, intimating the ways our historical record is incomplete.

[40:05]

The stories of these Serious 21st century Buddhist practitioners reveal how perennial certain kinds of challenges are, as well as how particular sociopolitical conditions give rise to resilience, creativity, and wisdom. Drawing on just three women's stories reveals the depths of suffering occurring in our midst. Let's listen to their voices. Saya confessed to me, I've never told this to anyone before. I was in my 20s. I had an abortion. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about it. It's not that I feel shame, but it's so personal. Something unresolved lingers in me. There's a dialogue inside me. There was a longing to connect, but I didn't know how. I decided to share this because of the times we live in now.

[41:07]

So many women are suffering. Girls who are raped must carry a baby, and they don't know what's going on with their bodies. Women with complications in pregnancy die because doctors fearing jail wait until they do not hear a heartbeat before they will treat a woman. Since many will read your book, I wanted to share how Dharma helped me in ways that I am only now learning how to articulate. It had been so deeply embedded in daily life that I didn't have words to understand it. But I realize now that it has undergirded my whole life. Louise shared with me the death of my sister, Emma, was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I did have a teacher who was very kind. I did turn to the Heart Sutra as a serious source of comfort, just trying to understand no sickness, no old age, and no death.

[42:11]

Walking around the whole of my life, everywhere, on the streets, driving my car, just trying to hold on to that raft and also let it penetrate me. We grew up in an award-winning dysfunctional family. Emma was 10 years younger than me. When it would get very ugly, which was usually at night, I would take my younger sisters out of the house and take a walk to keep them out of the environment. If it was super late at night, I'd get them in my bedroom. I locked the door to give them some sense of separation and protection. But the lock was weak, so we'd sit. with our backs to the door to keep our father out. Megumi explained to me that she was raised in a family that wove back and forth across the Pacific Ocean before and after World War II. It was difficult times for most Japanese Americans.

[43:14]

Mental health issues were rife. My mom masked her depression when my father was there to support her. She commits suicide three months after he passed. I want to speak out and support people, so what happened to people of Japanese descent in the U.S. during World War II does not happen to others. Their heartbeat and heart-inspiring stories made clear that they drank deeply from the well of Dharma. as did women who lived in sociocultural contexts that were shaped by a centuries-long engagement with the Buddhist dharma. We can amplify women's contributions by trumpeting the fact that without women nurturing enough people with dharma activities to keep dharma alive,

[44:21]

The Buddhist tradition would not have lasted through the millennia and become the global network of wisdom teachings and transformative practices that guide and support those facing injustice, fear, difficult childbirth, crippling chronic pain, degenerative disease, and loss of loved ones. Collectively, These women illustrate how once your compassion is no longer captive to the poisons of delusion, attachment, and hate, you are free to pour compassion on all in your midst, including yourself. Compassion changes how you perceive what is happening. enabling you to see how those who generate conditions of oppression are themselves suffering.

[45:28]

The women herein manifest how wielding liberating power involves creatively unleashing compassion and courageously brandishing a sword of wisdom to cut off the causes of suffering. By extending the sweep of our attention, we can expand our knowledge and understanding of women's ingenuity, insights, and strength. In sync with the Dalai Lama's principle that a Buddhist teaching should be rejected if it is not in accord with scientific evidence, Buddhist liberation dharmology revises or rejects teachings and practices that generate suffering. In doing so, we hear Buddhist women's voices reverberating through our history and our hearts. It is a liberating chorus that rises above the din of delusion as a lotus rises out of the mud.

[46:38]

Thank you for listening to this podcast offered by the San Francisco Zen Center. Our Dharma talks are offered at no cost and this is made possible by the donations we receive. Your financial support helps us to continue to offer the Dharma. For more information, visit sfcc.org and click giving. May we fully enjoy the Dharma.

[47:02]

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