Hi, guys. Thanks for coming. Thank you, Linda, very much for your tender encouragement over all these years and the invitation to offer a talk this evening. Thank you, Greg. You've been a longtime coach and supporter, and I've really appreciated it. It's meant a great deal. And of course, I express my deep appreciation to Norman Fisher, my teacher for almost 30 years, who is a very special person. And we all get to share him at different times. It's been an honor to share reflections, explanations, simple insights, and occasional songs with our community of spiritual companions during these work periods. Friendships have been sparked. and sustained over the years. And we've celebrated and mourned together.

[01:03]

We're such an interesting collection of people. Look around. New students and long-term Zen Center residents, volunteers who reliably show up with skills and toolboxes in hand, lay practitioners and priests. Just yesterday, we added the recitation of our women ancestors and the men recognized as Buddhas and ancestors to our morning service. Since it's likely that many, if not most of us here, are unfamiliar with many of these names or any of their stories, I'm going to introduce a few of them this evening and share some of their stories. I don't think in the heat. Wow, that's nice. The first time I came to Tazahara was as a guest in July 1998.

[02:11]

The second time I came to Tazahara was a year later when I arrived as a monk in September 1999. I was a Tangario student. In the last practice period, Norman led as Abbot of Zen Center. At that time, our subject for study, the theme for our practice period that Norman led and that we shared for the subject for study and the Dharma talks, was our women ancestors. Only recently at that time, added to the liturgy of Zen Center services. As I understand it, is this still working? I'm hearing differently. Is it working? Okay. Okay. As I understand it, Norman and Linda Ruth were instrumental in initiating this edition after years of research, discussion, and preparation.

[03:15]

And during all that time, there was chanting of the male Buddhas and ancestors. A large part of the work that they relied on was a publication, and our principal book for study was a book by Susan Mercott, published in 1991, called The First Buddhist Women, Translations and Commentaries on the Terragata, which is a collection of the early nuns' poems and their stories. We have it in the library. My principal resource for what I'll share this evening is this 2013 treasure, The Hidden Lamp, stories from 25 centuries of awakened women, which was compiled and edited by two of my Dharma sisters, Florence Kaplow and Susan Moon.

[04:17]

So we're talking about ancestors. How do we feel about our ancestors, who they are, what they represent, and how they may influence us? So I'm going to go back and forth with readings from the book and some comments, and we'll see where we go with this. Let's start around the 5th or 6th century BCE in India. with the family of Siddhartha Gautama, who became the Buddha. This doesn't work because then the distance gets blurry. Buddha's mother, or at the time Siddhartha's mother, was Maya, and his father was Sudodhana, who was also married to Maya's sister, Mahapajapati. Maya died soon after childbirth, And Pajapati raised Siddhartha.

[05:21]

In addition, she had two other children with Suddhodana, a daughter, Sundarinanda, which is a name you can recognize in our list of ancestors, which is, by the way, why I asked the Enos to distribute the chant books. So if you go to the back, you'll see the list of the women ancestors, and you'll see that, pick up names that go, not all of them, obviously, a handful or so, through that list, and that's who we'll be introducing this evening. So you'll see the name of Sundari Nanda in there. And she also had a son, Nanda, who many of us know and refer to as Ananda, the one with the great memory. And you'll often hear, thus have I heard, because he heard and he memorized, he just naturally remembered all the words that the Buddha spoke, and that was the basis of of the material and the sutras that came down to us. And then Ananda also served as the Buddha's personal assistant for many, many decades, actually.

[06:29]

Siddhartha married Yasodhara, another name you'll see in that list, and their son was Rahula. Also in the household was Vadessi, another one of our women ancestors, who was Pajapati's nurse. And Vadesi's teacher was a woman named Damadina, whose name you'll also see in the list of ancestors, and who herself became known as a gifted preacher. So let's back up a little bit. In a very brief summary to bring us to where we want to go forth, Siddhartha left his family in search of something... And as he experienced the world outside, his protected existence, he encountered four messengers, an old man, a sick man, a corpse, and a mendicant. He continued searching, trying different practices, and after sitting under the Bodhi tree, he awoke and found enlightenment.

[07:32]

This is the Cliff Notes version. Over succeeding years, he shared his teachings, and a large following developed. it was a large following of men, including the Buddha's son, Rahula, and his cousin, Ananda. Well, as word got out, and many husbands and sons left their homes to join the Buddha's Sangha, a great many women, usually referred to as the 500, turned to Mahapajapati for support, and she became the founder of the first order of nuns. However, That wasn't simple. So let's look a little bit into Mahapajapati. Mahapajapati was the aunt and...

[08:39]

foster mother of the Buddha as we discussed and queen of the shock is after all these husbands and sons left home she was the first to ask the Buddha if women could also ordain she had this growing group of women who wanted to participate in these practices as well so the Buddha's reply was don't set your heart on this later Oh, then she asked two more times. You know, we do things in threes, right? So she asked two more times and received the same answer. She left. She wasn't happy. Later, she and 500 other women cut off their hair, put on saffron-colored robes, and walked for hundreds of miles barefoot to where the Buddha was teaching. They stood outside the gates. Ananda saw them and interceded, asking Mahapajapati, why are you crying?

[09:45]

Because the Buddha does not permit women to ordain. So Ananda stepped in and asked the Buddha, why not? Your aunt is standing out there with swollen feet, covered with dust, crying because you do not permit women to ordain. It would be good, Lord, if women had permission to ordain. The Buddha replied, Uh-uh, enough, Ananda. Don't set your heart on this. Ananda also asked two more times. Then he asked, Are women able, Lord, to realize the full fruits of the way, even arhatship? Yes, Ananda, they are. Since women are able to realize perfection, and since Mahapajapati was so kind to you, She nursed you. She raised you. It would be good if women were allowed to ordain. The Buddha relented, and the Sangha of women was born. However, you know, the communities in general, as they developed, kept adding rules of conduct.

[10:54]

You can find lots of material about the rules of conduct and how to run a monastery. And often they arose because something went awry. So we said, well, we don't want to do that again, so let's put this rule in. So there were several hundred rules. In addition, for the women to be able to be part of this group, they added eight additional special women rules. The one that I always think stands out in my mind is the one which says, a woman who may have been long time ordained must acknowledge and bow toward Even a one day long ordained man, she will always be junior to the most junior man who comes into the Sangha. There are others. These eight laws are still enforced and still in practice in many parts of the world. And in fact, it became part of an issue with the request by a group of Theravadan women to fully ordain as bhikkhunis some years ago.

[11:59]

And they finally kind of went around another path from leaving the one that they were part of with Ajahn Chah's lineage of Thai forest monks, re-affiliated and had a Bikuni ordination at Spirit Rock in 2011. I attended it along with Chris Fortin, Ursuline Manuel, Young Digan, and Blanche. And it was hours long, and it was quite an amazing event. It was acknowledging that this was the first... Western attempt to reestablish the lineage of women ordines, of women bikinis, and they've continued to do so since then. So it took a few thousand years, but we're getting here. Okay, on to some other women to introduce you to. Among those 500 were other names you'll see in your list in the chant book. Mitah, Tisah,

[13:01]

Uttara, Vizakha, and Vadesi. I want to introduce some information about Bada Kapilani. She was, as a child, betrothed to Mahakashapa, who you remember was the one who responded when the Buddha twiddled the flower. So they were betrothed to each other. However, neither of them really wanted to go through with this. The parents set it up in any case and kept going forward. And before the marriage, Bhada Kapilani and Mahakashapa agreed that they would live a celibate life and renounce the world together. After they were married, They cut off each other's hair, put on robes, and set off into homelessness.

[14:06]

And then Mahakapasha, Mahakashapa, as we know, encountered the Buddha at the time that he twiddled the flower and later became an arhat himself and leader in the Sangha. Five years later, when Mahapajapati established the order of nuns, Bada ordained also becoming an arhat. And she wrote a poem. Seeing the world's deep misery, we both went forth and are now both free of mind's obsessions. Cooled of passions, we have found deliverance. Cooled of passions, we have found our freedom. So that's a little bit about Bada Kappalani. Another one that I think a lot of people may be familiar with is Kisugotami because she has one of those I mean, it's very moving, it's very straightforward, and it's very sad and enlightening.

[15:09]

Kisugotami is the woman behind the story of the mustard seed. So she came from a poor family. She was taken into a better family, and she married and had a child. And at that point, she was venerated as a mother of a child. Not long afterwards, the child died. And she was bereft. And she went around trying to find somebody who could help revive the child. And finally someone said, why don't you go speak to the Buddha? He may help you. So she went to the Buddha with this deceased child and said, please help me. I want my child to live. And the Buddha said, I think I can help you. However, what you need to do... is come back with a mustard seed from a house that has not experienced any death. So she went around town, and every door, every home that she entered and inquired said they had a mustard seed.

[16:15]

But when she said, well, do you have any death in your family? They always had stories of somebody who in their family had died. So she came back with no mustard seed. However, with the realization that this is something that we all share and is part of our lives and part of what becomes our practice. So when she understood this and the Buddha recognized that with her, she buried the child in the forest and returned to receive ordination. Continuing down the list of names in our chant book, you'll see that the names change from the Indian nuns to those from China, and a few of them are from about the 8th and 9th century. One particularly delightful representative in the group from China is Ling Zhao. She was the daughter of Lehman Pang.

[17:23]

who has a whole body of material that you can read about himself, and his wife, Lei Min Pang. And there was a brother as well. They were a very famous Chan dynasty, I mean, sorry, Chan Buddhist lay family. And people would come to get Lei Min Pang's advice and for him to listen to their worries. And she was a very bright, very inventive person. So these are three brief ones. One day, Layman Pang and his daughter, Ling Zhao, were out selling bamboo baskets. Coming down off a bridge, the layman stumbled and fell. When Ling Zhao saw this, she ran to her father's side and threw herself to the ground. What are you doing, cried the layman. I saw you falling, so I'm helping.

[18:27]

Luckily, no one was looking, remarked the layman. Then here's another one. Thank you, Greg. It's a good one. That's another one that comes up periodically, and I think it's just completely delightful. Layman Pang was sitting in his thatched cottage one day, studying the sutras. Difficult, difficult, difficult, he suddenly exclaimed, like trying to store ten bushels of sesame seed in the top of a tree. Easy, easy, easy, his wife, laywoman Pang answered. It's like touching your feet to the ground when you get out of bed. Neither difficult nor easy, said their daughter Ling Zhao. It's like the teachings of the ancestors of shining on the hundred grass tips. And then the last one, which you may be familiar with as well.

[19:32]

When it was time for Laman Pang to die, he said to his daughter Ling Zhao, Go look at the sun and tell me when it's exactly noon. Ling Zhao went to the door and looked out. The sun has reached the zenith, but there's a total eclipse. When Layman Pang stepped outside to see this remarkable event, Ling Zhao sat down in her father's seat, put her palms together, and passed away. Laman Pang looked in from the doorway and smiled, saying, My daughter has gone ahead of me once more. He waited seven days, and then he died. So you'll also see Miao Jin, who was about a 9th century Chinese nun.

[20:52]

And part of her story rests with other stories, which have to do with the sixth ancestor and discussions about whether wind, banner, and mind... I'm sorry. The story of wind, banner, and mind comes from early Zen monks arguing whether the wind moved a banner, Or the banner moved the wind. The sixth patriarch elegantly intervened. The wind does not move. The banner does not move. Your mind moves. So Mao Zedong came up with some other responses. There were 17 monks traveling in search of enlightenment. And they were going to see Master Yang Shan Hunji in the temple. And they came to stay overnight in the temple guesthouse. where, in fact, Mao Zing was the manager. They were having a discussion about the six patriarchs' koan. What moves is not the wind nor the banner, but your mind.

[21:57]

Mao Zing was director of the guest house, which she had been given responsibility for by the master Yang Shan. She overheard the monk's conversation and said to her attendants, what a shame that these 17 blind donkeys have worn out so many pairs of straw sandals on their pilgrimages, without even getting close to the Dharma. One of the nuns told the monks what Mao Zedong had said. The monks were humbled. They were sincere in their search for enlightenment, and so they did not dismiss Mao Zedong's criticism as the impertinence of a woman. Instead, they bowed respectfully and approached her. Mao Zedong said, what moves is not the wind, nor the banner, nor your mind. All 17 monks immediately awakened. They became Yao Jing's disciples and returned home without ever climbing the mountain to meet Yangshan.

[23:01]

This story also reminds me of the 16 bodhisattvas that are sitting at our bathhouse who got enlightened together when they got into the water. I know there's no Mao Zedong, but I think of that when there's a group that gathers together and they share their enlightenment. Liu Taimo, also known as Iron Rhinestone Liu. So in this case, I want to share with you some reflections written by Pat Ankyo O'Hara, who's the abbot of the village Zendo in New York City. She said, Iron Grindshawn Liu, or the grinder, left home at an early age, entered a convent, and was ordained.

[24:10]

After a few years, she left and wandered through China, seeking a teacher. She had encounters with various Zen teachers, and eventually gained a reputation as a brilliant and devastating opponent in Dharma combat. She was said to be a steely stone who could grind up and also sharpen the wits of those whom she encountered. She eventually became a student with Zen master Guishan. So everybody in here who's been in the kitchen where we've touched base with Guishan is familiar at least with his name. And she became his Dharma heir. The koan that she's involved in that comes up is in actually two of the collections of koans, the Blue Cliff Record and the Book of Serenity. Now we want to move to Japan.

[25:15]

And there's the first one I'm going to read about is a woman named Rionin. And it's a very disturbing story in different ways than we've heard before. As a young woman, Rionin Genso was an attendant to the Empress in Japan about 17th century. She was known for her beauty, and intelligence. When the Empress died, she felt the impermanence of life with the loss of this woman, and she decided to become a nun. Rionin traveled to the city of Edo in search of a Zen teacher. She asked a couple of them if they would ordain her, and they refused. And the gist of their refusal was that she was too beautiful.

[26:20]

that her womanly appearance would cause problems for the monks in the monastery. So she continued wandering and she found some women who were pressing fabric and she took up a hot iron and held it against her face to scar herself so she wouldn't be approaching them with the beauty that she had in her life. And she wrote a poem on the back of a small mirror. To serve my empress, I burned incense to perfume my exquisite clothes. Now, as a homeless mendicant, I burn my face to enter a Zen temple. The four seasons flow naturally like this. Who is this now in the midst of these changes? She went back to the priest who she had reproached about ordination, and he immediately accepted her as a disciple. She became abbess of his temple when he died, and she later founded her own temple.

[27:25]

Before her death, she wrote this poem, and it's very traditional for especially priests and others to write what's referred to as a death poem. This is the 66th autumn I have seen. The moon still lights my face. Don't ask me about the meaning of Zen teachings. Just listen to what the pines and cedars say on a windless night. The last nun named in our chant book these days, and these lists have changed a little bit over the years, is Chiyono from 13th century Japan. And this is kind of a delightful story as well. She was a servant in a Zen convent who wanted to practice Zazen. One day she approached one of the elderly nuns and asked, I'm of humble birth.

[28:33]

I can't read or write and must work all the time. Is there any possibility that I could attain the way of Buddha even though I have no skills? The nun answered her, this is wonderful, my dear. In Buddhism, there are no distinctions between people. There is only this. Each person must hold fast to the desire to awaken and cultivate a heart of great compassion. People are complete as they are. If you want to know your true nature, you need to turn toward the source of your delusive thoughts. This is called zazen. Chiyono said with happiness, With this practice as my companion, I have only to go about my daily life practicing day and night. After months of wholehearted practice, she went out on a full moon night to draw some water from the well. The bottom of her old bucket, held together by bamboo strips, suddenly gave way and the reflection of the moon vanished with the water.

[29:44]

When she saw this, she attained great realization. And her enlightenment poem was, with this and that, I tried to keep the bucket together. And then the bottom fell out. Where water does not collect, the moon does not dwell. In the 1999 practice period here, we had our skit night. And my friend Ingen Breen and I did a song skit using the song, There's a Hole in the Bucket. And that was fun. I'm going to share one other. Oh, we're late. One more. Okay. So we won't have conversations together. Sorry, guys. This is not a name as yet in our chant books.

[30:52]

I'm going to skip the koan part, but I'm going to go directly to the reflection and who it was written by, and it'll be okay. You can keep up with it. The story part is called The Old Woman Burns Down the Hermitage. And by the way, This is in the library as well, two copies. It's a great book. It really is a lot of fun to read. This reflection, so bear with me, it's a couple of pages, is by Zenke Blanche Hartman. And I think you'll hear her wholehearted, heartfelt practice and personal devotion to all of us. I think that the monk in this koan was totally off base in his attempt to squelch his human feelings. in his efforts to shut down rather than celebrate his human feelings. A. Hay Dogen describes enlightened beings as having few desires, but I don't think that having few desires means suppressing feeling.

[31:57]

For me, it means just being aware of all that we have to be grateful for and thereby knowing that we don't need anything more. Through Zen practice, we develop a greater and greater appreciation of everything around us. We don't become an old, withered stump. I'm much more alive than I was when I started this practice and much more appreciative, and that's true of most Zen people I know. The practice is not about suppressing desire or destroying our humanity, but about allowing it to flow out to everything rather than to a particular object. I met Zen practice through Suzuki Roshi, Katagiri Roshi, and Sojin Mel Weitzman. And these were not withered trees. These were very lively people. In every photo I have of Suzuki Roshi, and I have a lot of them, he's laughing or smiling. My teachers and my practice have never taught me not to enjoy life.

[33:02]

The deeply seasoned teachers I've had the opportunity to meet have all been supportive to people who are suffering, but they have also been very playful and lighthearted. I understand the precepts not as rules to follow, but more as be very careful in this area of human life because there's a lot of suffering there, so pay attention to what you're doing. Like a sign on a frozen pond that says, danger, thin ice. Rather than shame on you, our vow is to help people end suffering, not to add to their suffering. I feel that there is a way to live without objectifying anyone as a sexual object while still appreciating their beauty. This is living by the precepts. In the case of the monk and the young girl, who was going to be hurt by any show of affection on his part? I don't know the circumstances of her life, but I get the impression that the girl was a willing participant and as such likely to have her feelings hurt by rejection.

[34:11]

But the monk had used the practice to shut down all feeling so as not to be disturbed by it. That's a misunderstanding of the teaching, which is about the ending of suffering. The monk could have responded to the young woman kindly. You're very beautiful and young and very attractive, but I am a celibate monk, so I'm really sorry I can't accommodate you. It would have been compassionate. I love to teach the Brahma Vihara practices of loving kindness and compassion and the Metta Sutta, which we chanted today. In the Metta Sutta we chant, suffusing love over the entire world. I find this a sublime vision considering all the discord and enmity that seems to be happening in our world. And that was, you know, 2013 when this book was published, and I don't know when Blanche wrote this piece, but unfortunately it's still with us this way. I exchange a lot of hugs with students in the Dokusan room.

[35:16]

I know it's not orthodox, and perhaps some people might brand it as inappropriate. but since I'm old enough to be most people's grandmother, I hope it's all right. If someone is suffering, I might get up at the end of the interview and give someone a hug. Sometimes, of course, I realize that a hug would be an encroachment, so I don't hug the person. So far, people seem to have found it comforting rather than distressing or confusing. One time, Brother David Standel Rast, A Benedictine monk who practiced with Suzuki Roshi was giving a talk at Tazahara Zen Monastery, and someone asked him about his vow of celibacy. Brother David said in response, but if I want to love everyone the same, I have to be either celibate or very promiscuous. I love that image of loving everyone the same.

[36:21]

That's something I've taken on myself to love everyone the same, to love everyone completely. It's not about withering our perception or appreciation of the world around us. It's about becoming more and more appreciative of the world around us. It's beauty, all it has to offer us, and our total connection with it. Dear Blanche. So I guess we're out of time. And we'll say our good nights.

[36:57]

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