This podcast is offered by the San Francisco Zen Center on the web at www.sfzc.org. Our public programs are made possible by donations from people like you. Good morning. Left side of the room. The other side of the room. Back of the room. A Vietnamese Zen teacher once said that when we understand how our mind works, our practice becomes easy. But before I talk about that, I need to begin with an errata, which means an acknowledgment of an error, usually in writing, but in this case it's verbal. Yesterday I said that Charlie was eaten by a lion, but actually it was Pierre.

[01:00]

And that's because Pierre rhymes with I don't care, as Kathleen kindly let me know right after the talk. I really appreciated that. And I looked it up, and she was right. So it wasn't Charlie. And also that this story is by Morris Sendak, which I had forgotten, who is even more famous for where the wild things are and in the night kitchen, both of which were written at a Zen mountain monastery. Now, that's a fact that's not true. So actually, where he wrote those stories, just like Pierre, I don't care. So on that note, I would like to begin this morning by saying a few things about facts and about language. You know, the horse that we forget that we're riding, as Nagarjuna said so long, long ago.

[02:02]

The fact that we are using language almost all the time is not obvious to us. And it's a fact that we just simply forget. So another one of the many facts that we often overlook is that the body and the mind are two aspects of the same thing. A body without a mind is not a real body. It's not alive. And a mind without a body, as far as we know, cannot exist. its own at least not yet although they are working on that right so a big part of our practice as meditators and as students of the Buddhist teaching is to train ourselves away from these false distinctions between major aspects of ourself such as our body and our mind along with all the other minor aspects of ourselves which we often refer to as if they are possessions my hands my fingers my mind my aching back my aching heart and so on and then we add to those possessions the many additional objects and people that we label as our own you know my house my car my husband my children and my country and eventually we get this complete set of what we casually call myself

[03:29]

So language not only allows us, but it requires us to talk about ourselves as if we were an assemblage of all of those parts, rather than an inconceivable and boundaryless whole. The great mystery that we have also named, universe, or reality itself. So what the Buddha said of himself at the moment of his awakening was not possessive in this usual way. He said, entire universe in the ten directions is the true human body the true human mind so if that's what enlightenment looks like to a Buddha you know how do we get there from here and I think that's what the Buddhist teachings and practice is designed to help us to do you know to get there from here and yet there's another teaching buddha gave which tells us that there and here are also mere aspects of reality itself and that here and there don't actually exist and that's a fact so i think you might remember the story i told a few days ago about bahia of the bark cloth in which the buddha gives bahia some instructions on how to access what is called the ultimate truth

[04:55]

the truth about the self and about objects, about time, place, and most importantly, about facts, the facts of life. In this teaching from the Old Wisdom Sutras, the Buddha is offering Bahiya a simple remedy for not only reconnecting his body to his mind, but also his seemingly small life to the entire universe, his big mind. Bahiya, you should train yourself thus. In the seen, there will be just the seen. In the heard, just the heard. In the imagined, just the imagined. And in the cognized, just the cognized. That is how you should train yourself. When for you there will be just the seen in the seen, and just the heard in the heard, just the imagined in the imagined, just the cognized in the cognized, then bahiya, you, in connection with that, will not exist.

[05:57]

You will not be found in this world or in another world or someplace in between. This, just this, bahiya, is the end of suffering. So through hearing this teaching from the Blessed One, the mind of bahiya was right then and there released from the toxic belief in a separate self. So that image that's common in the Buddhist tradition of what happened to Bahia is that the clouds that were covering the moon lifted. They blew away. So clouds can also be understood as this horse that we forget that we're riding, our delusional thinking. And the moon is the clear light of awakening. In the scene, just the scene. In the moon, just the moon. In the horse, just the horse. And for Zhao Zhou and the monk, it's just the dog.

[06:58]

You know, mu. No. Regarding delusional thinking, our species, the one that we modestly called homo sapiens, meaning wise man, is both gifted and cursed by the use of our complex abstract language. There's a wonderful book, some of you may have read, it's been out for a while, called A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Harari, in which he passionately points out some extraordinary thing that happened about something like 70,000 years ago, merely 70,000 years ago, called the Cognitive Revolution. A revolution within a species of primates that had developed the capacity to think and to speak about things that don't truly exist, to think and to speak of facts, and more importantly, of fiction. Other primates, along with many other animals, use language also to express very specific warnings, such as lion, run.

[08:06]

Watch out, Pierre. Only Homo sapiens can declare that the lion is the guardian spirit of our tribe. Only the wise men can tell a really good story along with a really good lie. So what I'm talking about today, and I'm trying to talk about most of the days of our practice period, is this challenging and elusive teaching about awakening. I think there are those who would also say awakening itself is merely a story, a fruitful fiction like fairy tales told to crying children. In fact, there's a saying in Zen, the mind-only school, that when the babies are crying, you tell them, this very mind is Buddha. And when the babies stop crying, you tell them, no mind, no Buddha, mu. And then they start crying again. So there are others who say no to no.

[09:08]

that you can attain enlightenment, for example, in a dark room, wearing dark clothes, sitting on a dark black cushion for long, long periods of time, or by hearing the sound of one hand clapping or a dog barking or a Zen teacher pointing to the cryptomeria tree that's in the Suzuki Roshi rock garden. These are all good examples from the Zen koan tradition. But no matter what people say, we are left hoping that there is a way a path for the relief of our suffering. There is a way of living that brings happiness and joy, not only to our own species, but to all the living beings on the earth. And that such a way will be fast enough that it will happen while we are still alive, meaning it will happen on time and to me. Time being. So as I said at the beginning of this talk, according to the Zen tradition, By understanding how the mind works, our practice becomes easy, which means, and I do believe, that living becomes easy, and friendship becomes easy, and even dying becomes easy.

[10:19]

Suzuki Roshi said to his disciples near his last moments of life, don't worry about me, I know who I am. So do we know who we are? who we truly are, outside of the labels, you know, the awards and the skills, bank accounts and our wardrobes. When the emperor of China asked Bodhidharma, our Zen founder, who are you facing me? Bodhidharma said, don't know. And that was a true fact. He didn't know. How could he know? How could any of us know? Who are we? Don't know. And yet I doubt that there are many homo sapiens with the courage or the wisdom to respond, don't know, when they are asked who they are by the emperor of China. You know, what would that don't know be? Would it be the same as bodhidharmas? Or would it be a true fact? Or would it be a lie? Don't know.

[11:21]

But we do know that neurobiologists and mental health professionals along with those who market psychotropic medications, like coffee and tobacco and codeine and magic mushrooms, are also intently concerned with understanding the workings of the human mind, are intently concerned with knowing who we are, some for the purpose of healing and others for profit. Centuries before the advent of both science and capitalism, members of our species spent long hours devoted to this very question. knowing who they were, by studying their own bodies and minds as the subjects of observation, just as we're doing here. And from those studies, there came many, many theories and assertions that were well known to this day. There are gods and angels and zombies and aliens, the prophets and seers, that the lion is the guardian spirit of our tribe. So indeed, the tradition of Buddhism itself began, as we know, with a young homo sapien sitting alone under a tree studying the workings of his mind.

[12:36]

He was patient and determined. He was strong and energetic, and yet he wasn't content with simple answers to the questions. And he wasn't distracted from his seated position by the arrival of a demon army or dancing maidens. or the master of illusions, himself or herself, Mara, the evil one, whose gender as yet is to be determined. At that point in the story, which is a true story for sure, the young human confronts this shadowy figure facing him across the meadow who has just threatened to destroy him. One of my favorite stories. You're not going to destroy me, deceiver. says the prince, because I know who I am and I know who you are. You don't know who I am, hisses the evil one. Oh, yes, I do, replies the prince. You are myself. And with that, Mara vanishes like smoke up the chimney.

[13:39]

In other words, once the doubts of delusion are lifted, the light of awakening shines bright. And that's a very good story. So this young man, who is now sitting alone under a tree, was from then on known as a Buddha, an awakened one, one who had awakened from sleep, sleeping of a separate self, of an own being. So this narrative of the Buddha's awakening might help us to clarify his teachings over the years. Train yourself thus, Bahiya, right here and right now, in the scene, just the scene, in the herd, just the herd, in the imagined, just the imagined. and the cognized just the cognized, with little or even no need to add any further elaborations, unless in doing so would be of help to others. There's a lion, watch out. When the Buddha spoke, he did so in response to the suffering of those around him, and the words he spoke are called the Dharma, they're called the truth.

[14:43]

And the truth offered us a pathway to freedom. When we understand how our mind works, practice becomes easy. So here are some other facts that may or may not be true. You can never be sure. However, as I said yesterday, I need to give a talk. So as you all know, what I've been talking about is mu, no, which is kind of ironic because when Laman Vimlakirti gave a talk on this teaching of non-duality, he the two truths, his response was a thunderous silence, which I was quite tempted to do this morning. Speak no words. However, when you turn the page in the Vimalakirti Sutra to the next chapter, it's quite a wonderful thing. The very first paragraph, these two monks are talking, and they're saying,

[15:46]

What are we going to feed the venerables? They've been listening to the conversation between Vimalakirti and Manjushri. What are we going to feed them? It's almost lunchtime. Speaking or not speaking? Which is it? And why? Which of the two truths is that one? So since in the final realization of the Zen tradition the two truths cannot be separated, I thought maybe I'd just keep talking, but not too long, about Zhajo, about the monk, and about the dog. So, as Daikon said, he finds it, where are you, Daikon? There he is. He finds it, you didn't say amusing, enjoyable to hear me talking about Daikons. See? He's delighted by it. So I'm going to do that some more. In Rinzai Zen, which traces its beginnings to the 9th century, a teacher by the name of Linji, which in Japanese is Rinzai, who was, lucky for them, famous for his wit.

[17:00]

Linji was also famous for shouting at the monks. His monks were famous for shouting back, just like we heard about yesterday in the story of Momon's own awakening. So it was Linji's successors who compiled the koans in the Blue Cliff Record and who developed the use of these stories, now called koans, as a subject for meditation. So one way koans can be used is to test a student's understanding of the Buddha's perception and insight, whether or not the student has the Buddha's mind. Or more to the point, can they prove it in the court of their Zen teacher's approval? I think mostly they just throw you out of the room, don't they? For years. What was your shortest? Was five seconds? Is that what you did? Yeah. In Tom Cleary's introduction to his own book, Unlocking the Zen Koan, he says that awakening liberates the mind from the limitations and burdens of narrow views, of dogmatic assumptions, and of circular thinking habits.

[18:04]

You know, the moon emerging from behind the dark clouds. However, the Buddha's awakening is also likened to a lotus flower blooming in the midst of fierce flames, meaning that the awakened mind becomes liberated not on some deserted island out in the middle of the Pacific, but right in the middle of the attractions and the distractions of our everyday world. In Mahayana Buddhism, nirvana is understood as discovering peace within samsara, not outside of it. Nirvana being the Buddha's uninhibited wisdom about the world and about his mind. her mind, their mind. And samsara, the Buddha's uninhibited compassion for the suffering of sentient beings, of homo sapiens. The harmonious integration of these two aspects is the complete fulfillment of human life on planet Earth. So some koans, like the one about Zhajo and the dog, are focused on realization of nirvana.

[19:07]

And although the key to unlocking the gateless gate into the land of silent light, as nirvana is called, are boundless, innumerable, in this khan we're given just one key for opening the door. Thomas Cleary suggests translating the title of the Muman Khan as the border crossing whose doorway says no. So no is like Manjushri's sword, you know, up there on the altar, hacking away. whatever arises in the mind in the guise of true reality just like Mara the evil one in my case herself whose upside-down views are creating an upside-down world a world of sorrows and yet the bodhisattva wisdom knows that nothing is holding us hostage except the mind's entanglements with its own thoughts opinions and projections like the wisteria vines, wrapping around themselves or just reaching out into thin air. Zen really isn't about what you're going to get.

[20:12]

It's about what you're going to lose. A monk asked Zhao Zhou, does even a dog have Buddha nature? Zhao Zhou said, no. And then he comments on this case. This is Mumon's comments. To study Zen, you must pass through the barrier set up by the ancestral teachers. For subtle realization, you need to cut off the mind road, the entanglements. That's what the sword is for. If you do not pass through the barrier of the ancestors and do not cut off the mind road, then you are like a ghost clinging to the bushes and the grasses. But tell me, what is the barrier of the ancestral teachers? This one word, no, is the unique lock on the door to the source, the gateless barrier of the Zen tradition. Those who can pass through the barrier not only see Zhaozhou in person, they will walk hand in hand with the ancestral teachers of all time in the successive generation of our lineage.

[21:13]

The hair of our eyebrows entangled with theirs, seeing with their eyes, hearing with their ears, wouldn't that be joyous? Is there anyone who would not want to pass through the barrier? Speak now. or forever hold your peace. Well, in that case, arouse a massive doubt within your whole body, and with your 360 bones and your 84,000 hair follicles, inquire into this one word, no. Day and night, keep digging into it. Do not understand it as nothing. Do not understand it as something. Don't think of it in terms of has or has not. It's like swallowing a red-hot iron ball, which you can't spit out, no matter how hard you try. Washing away your previous mistaken attitudes and knowledge that you have held from the past, in a natural manner, inside and outside, become one.

[22:19]

And then, like someone without the power of speech who has had a dream, you know it, but only for yourself. When you suddenly break through, startling the heavens and shaking the earth, it is as though you have snatched a great warrior's sword. Meeting the Buddha, you kill the Buddha. Meeting Bodhidharma, you kill Bodhidharma. On the very cliff edge of life and death, you find the great freedom. In the six realms, in the four modes of birth, you enjoy a samadhi of frolic and play. But how do you bring it to mind? Using all of your day-to-day energy, bring up this word, no. If you do not allow any gap, you will be like a torch of truth that lights up the moment fire is set to it. So following this commentary by this great teacher, Mumman, there are a number of verses that are offered in the text. One is by Mumman himself, and then there are three others, two by Rinzai teachers and one by Dogen's own teacher, Ru Jing.

[23:24]

as these two great rivers of Rinzai Zen and Soto Zen flow right back into the great ocean of reality itself. So here's a woman's verse. A dog's Buddha nature presents the true directive in full. As soon as you get into yes and no, you lose your body and you forfeit your life. Zen Master Wuzu's verse. Zhao Zhou shows a sword whose cold, frosty light blazes. If you go on asking how and what, it cuts you into pieces. Zen master Sushan rules first. A dog has no Buddha nature. Kind, compassion, deep as the sea. Those who pursue words and chase sayings bury the hearty mind. And then here's Ru Jing. Ru Jing, Dogen's teacher. When thoughts are flying around your mind in confusion, what do you do? A dog's Buddha nature? No. This word no is an iron broom.

[24:28]

Where you sweep, there's a lot of flying around. And where there's a lot of flying around, you sweep. The more you sweep, the more there is. At the point where it is impossible to sweep, you throw your whole life into sweeping. Keep your spine straight day and night and do not let your courage flag. all of a sudden you sweep away the totality of space and all differentiations are clearly penetrated. So the source and its meaning become evident. So Zhao Zhou was born in the 8th century and he's said to have lived for 120 years. That's a fact. Although he was awakened to the way when he was only 18 years old, he didn't start to teach until he was 80. And in this koan, the dog represents a dream, a dream state. And mu, no, is a trigger, like the wake-up bell that snaps us out of our dream.

[25:30]

So any concepts we have about our mind are themselves products of our mind, and therefore are not the mind itself. The mind itself is beyond any concepts we have about the mind. In other words, ungraspable, inconceivable, ineffable, and ultimately true. So one way to understand this koan is to ask ourselves, is it even possible to be awake while habitual and random thoughts are still rambling around through the mind, like the dog sniffing around in the forest? And although Zhajo says no, this no is an instruction for summoning the dog. in order to see for ourselves whether it's possible to awaken in the midst of confused and habitual romping. No, as I have been saying, is not the answer to whether or not the poor dog has Buddha nature. It is simply a way to stop ourselves from asking such questions.

[26:32]

Well, does it or doesn't it? Yes or no? There's a story of a monk who demands an answer from his teacher to the question, alive or dead, as they are standing together over a casket at a funeral. The teacher says, I won't say. I won't say. And then the monk says, well, you better tell me or I'm going to hit you. And the teacher doesn't say. And the monk knocks his teacher down. So no, along with many other devices, have been used in the Buddhist tradition to allow homo sapiens to concentrate. Not easy for the monkey mind. To give us a chance to clear the mind and to achieve what Buddhist meditators call stopping or cessation, shamatha, tranquility. Once the mind is stopped or calmed, it's possible for self-view, worldview, and one's own personal ideas about reality to to be quieted for a time, you know, time being.

[27:34]

The purpose of these devices is not to make the mind blank, as in cutting off your head, but rather to make the mind flexible and open to reality, as in ever fresh and fully present. As Susan says in his verse, no, properly utilized means releasing of the hearty mind, something that Reb has been calling our tensile strength. Flexible, soft, ready to meet whatever comes. And then John Terence suggests, how about forgetting who you are and make use of nothing? How? By practicing with duality. For example, what about yes? No. What about me? No. What about you? No. What about no? No. So this is actually a practice that you could try on yourself as we work our way through Sashin. What am I doing here, really? No. No. What about death? No. What about going to the zendo at this ungodly hour?

[28:38]

No. There are slugs in the salad mix? No. A baby skunk in the compost? No. Well, yes, actually it was. So what the veils of our subjective ideas or imaginings and our projections are blinding us to is the arising of our all-too-human relationships. just so we don't see how hatred leads to hatred and how kindness leads to kindness. We don't see it. And we forget. By being blind to the workings of the mind, we are blind to cause and effect, which is the subject matter of the koan, the next koan in the Mumonkan, about Bai Chong and the wild fox, which is, as I've said, I'm going to talk about in the next Sishin. Just as we are preparing ourselves to depart, Tassahara, returned in the marketplace and with all that awaits us there we begin to ready ourselves by practicing mental clarity no no no no thank you I have no complaints there's a really nice poem called snow by Dogen about this moment of mental clarity

[29:57]

All my life, false and real, right and wrong, tangled. Playing with the moon, ridiculing the wind, listening to the birds. Many years wasted seeing the mountains covered with snow. And this winter I suddenly realize snow makes the mountain. All my life, false and real, right and wrong, tangled. playing with the moon, ridiculing the wind, listening to the birds, many years wasted seeing the mountains covered with snow. This winter I suddenly realized snow makes the mountain. So once the mind is stopped, even temporarily, we may be able to see how stories, you know, the snow that covers the mountain, our small mind, as Suzuki Roshi calls it, and all that is other than stories, the big mountain of the universe itself, are truly interfused as one whole being, as one whole Buddha nature, where context and content are together dancing joyously, and furthermore, how it has always been, and never otherwise.

[31:12]

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, visit sfcc.org and click Giving.

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