Good morning. Well, this morning the first part of this talk is for the children. Hi kids. Hi. You look like you're made out of wood. What's your name? Phoenix. Phoenix? Bennett. Bennett. What's your name? Henry. Henry? Great. I forgot your name. Mira. Mira, yeah. I have a story.

[01:03]

This is a story. Before I read this story, I want to ask you, you know what a friend is, don't you? You know? Yeah. You know what an enemy is, don't you? Yeah. So, when I was your age, Of course, you're different ages, but a kid. I had friends and I had, I wouldn't say enemies, but people I didn't like particularly. And it always turned out that, of course, they were boys. I kind of liked the girls, but... I had more to do with the boys. And so the boys, when they didn't know each other real well, always had a fight.

[02:10]

Did you ever have a fight? Oh, you're lucky. And after we had a fight, we were always friends. So that's how we became friends, by testing each other's strength. And we may have had some idea about who this person was, but as soon as we had this tussle, we found out the truth and all of our illusions were gone. So this is how we made friends with each other and people that I thought were The last person I would be friendly with would turn out to be my best friend. So here's the story. Ready?

[03:11]

Okay. There's a deer who lives so deep in a certain forest that no one ever sees him. People call him the Sarabha. If you listen, then all the world is quiet, and the sun is far away. You may hear his voice coming faintly from the woods. One day a king was hunting in his forest, and he penetrated so far, so far that one of the Their fair Sarabhas passed within his view. Who are you, beautiful creature, he cried. But the Sarabha ran on and disappeared through the trees. He didn't want to be seen. I will catch him, exclaimed the king, furiously.

[04:16]

He cannot escape me. And darting forward upon his horse, he shot arrows at the beautiful one. The arrows flew around the deer, but he feared them not and ran over the grass as a bird flies through the air. The king's horse raced faster and faster, and the forest, the hills, the valleys passed by unseen. His hunting men, his army, his elephant troops were all left behind in the forest, searching in vain for the king. All were forgotten. Run, run, faster, faster, cried the king in his fury to his horse. The hoofs of his horse had hardly touched the ground as he galloped through space.

[05:19]

But suddenly they reached a deep chasm. You know what a chasm is? Yes. Okay. Which the Sarabha had leapt easily across. The king did not see the chasm. His eyes were set only on the deer he was pursuing. But the horse, not daring to jump, stopped suddenly at the edge, and the king was flung over the horse, did a somersault, and went down to the chasm. Why do I no more hear the clatter of the horseshoes? thought the Sarava. Has the king turned away, or has he perhaps fallen in the chasm? The Sarava looked behind him, and saw the horse running here and there, riderless, and his heart was filled with sorrow. So, the Sarabha, the Deer Hood being pursued, sees the king's horse without the king on it, running around, and he feels sorry for the horse.

[06:25]

The king has fallen in a chasm. He is all alone. His army is far away. Surely he is suffering more than another would suffer in such a plight. For he has an army glittering with gold, a hundred elephants, and men to guard him and await his call. But now he is all alone. Poor king, I'll save him if he's still alive." Such were the thoughts of the Sarada as he turned and went back to the chasm. On reaching the brink, he looked down and saw his enemy lying in the dust, moaning. And bending over, he spoke to him in a gentle voice. King of men, he said, don't fear me. I am not a goblin who does harm to those who are lost and far from home. I drink the water that you drink and eat the grass that grows on earth. I am able to help you, king, and bring you out of this chasm. Trust me, and I will come. Do my eyes see truly, thought the king?

[07:32]

Is this not my enemy who has come to help me? The king looked up at the Sarabha, and his heart was full of shame. Fair one, he said, I am not hurt over might, for the armor which covers me is strong, but the thought that I have been your enemy hurts me more than my wounds, so forgive me, please. Hearing these words, the Sarabha knew that the king trusted him and loved him. He descended into the chasm, and taking the king on his back, the high walls with a strength greater than that of the mighty elephant and brought him into the forest. Then the king threw his arms around the Sarabha. How can I thank you, he said. My palace, my country is yours. Come, return with me to the city. I cannot leave you here in the forest to be killed by hunters and wild animals. Great king, said the Sarabha, do not ask me to come to your palace.

[08:35]

Here is my country in the forest. The trees are my palaces. But if you wish to make me happy, grant them this favor. Hunt no more in the forest, that those who live beneath the trees may be happy and free. The king gave his promise gladly and returned to the palace to the great joy of his people, who welcomed him with cheers. Because none should hunt in the forest again, wherefore the king and his people and the animals of the forest all lived happily and unhappily ever after. If you want to, what question, it's a pretty simple story, right?

[09:43]

So, what would you say is the moral of the story? Do you know what that means? Do you know what that means? If you try to meet your enemies, what do you mean to them? You should try to meet your enemy before you're mean to them. Before you're mean to them? Before you're mean to them or you try to hurt them or something. Yeah. Meet them first. Meet them first. Yeah. Very good. Meet your enemy before you judge them. Unfortunately, that's not what happens in our world, pretty much. And when you grow up, I hope that you remember his story. So, today, I know what I want to talk about, but I haven't decided how to talk about it.

[11:36]

So, you know, I'll just start talking. I think I want to talk about how our Zen Center came to be and what are we doing. Back in 1964 I started to study with Suzuki Roshi at the Sokoji Temple in San Francisco and I really liked Once I got over my surprise at what we were doing there, I really liked the practice and I felt it was really the way that Suzuki Roshi practiced and the kind of practice that we had, which was adapted from Japan.

[12:56]

sitting in the morning and sitting in the evening and working in the daytime, in between. I felt that these two periods of Zazen were the beginning and ending of the day and in between was practice in the world. And it was a way of expressing nirvana and samsara. I think of, you know, we talk about mandala. One mandala is a center and a periphery. That's a mandala. And the center of the mandala is the focal point. And the periphery is the activity around the focal point.

[14:03]

So, you know, we have the mandala of the twelvefold chain of causation in the six worlds, and in the center is the snake, the chicken, and the pig, which represent the hub of samsara. So greed, ill-will, and delusion are the hub around which the samsaric world rotates. And then there's the Buddha Mandala, where Buddha is the center, the hub, and generosity, goodwill, and enlightenment are the hub around which the Buddha mandala, the Buddha wheel turns. So one is called the mandala of samsara and the other is called the mandala of nirvana.

[15:06]

So in China sometimes they would call the Buddha hall or the zendo the nirvana hall. Samsara is our daily life based on acquisition, the will to promote ourself and make something out of the world, to build something out of the world. The world of building blocks. We learn how to do that as little kids. We have our blocks and we build creation. We create various things. And then, or you know, we go down to the ocean and we build sand castles. Then the tide comes in and washes it all out. So, samsara is like the undulation of building up and destruction.

[16:13]

Building up and destroying. Building up and destroying. And what happens in samsara, when we're attached to the samsaric world, is that We're pretty much invested in the building. But then something comes along and washes it away. So this is called the realm of vanity. Vanity means doing something in vain. Doing something, activity that has no real lasting value or virtue. So, samsara is sometimes called the realm of values, comparative values. The Buddha world is the world of virtue, which is not necessarily being good or nice, in that sense, but being real.

[17:15]

Sometimes we say we want peace of mind, but actually what we really want is mind, true mind. sometimes peaceful, hopefully. So the Samsonic world is the world of delusion. And the Nirvana world is the world of enlightenment. So, you know, back in the 50s, even before, you know, all through the history of our country and all through the history of the world it's always been the same trying to build up some prosperity which is overblown and has no real foundation and then it collapses and then it starts all over again because it has no real foundation like balloons blow up these big balloons and they pop it's like back in the 30s

[18:27]

You know, the prairie is like from Montana all the way down to Texas. That whole strip of the country, all the way down, is where the old prairie used to be. And it was covered with grass, and Indians, and cowboys, and buffalo, and little animals. But that's all it could sustain, because Underneath the grass was sand, turf. And without the grass, the whole thing would be destroyed. So people were fooled into believing that they could make a huge profit by exploiting the prairie. So they were sold a bill of goods by bankers and given all this land and told to cultivate it.

[19:35]

So they tore up the grass. And they kept tearing up the grass and making a lot of money. And it was a boom, big boom. And then when the World War came, and of course the Depression was at the same time, everything They kept producing more and more because they grew wheat. The one thing they could grow was wheat. So they kept growing wheat. And tearing up the grass and tearing up the grass pretty soon, the grass was all gone. Then they had the great sandstorms. The Dust Bowl. The Dust Bowl was the most horrendous thing that ever happened in America. because the grass was no longer holding the sod. They would have dust storms that were two miles high. There was one that was called Black Sunday, where you couldn't see anything.

[20:37]

And the prairies never come back. But we keep doing the same thing over and over again. feeling that we need to keep raising our standard of living. When I hear the term standard of living, it's like, that's not what it means. You don't need to have so much over-prosperity in order to have a standard of living. I think that Buddhist life is kind of socialist. It doesn't mean some political thing. It means we take care of each other, instead of just taking care of ourselves.

[21:42]

Because what this does, when we have these bubbles, it inflames our personal, our ego, and we're only concerned with ourselves. And we forget about everybody else. So this is where we are now. This is the way it was in the 50s. After the war, people were looking for something, you know. And so the 50s and 60s were great creative times. People sometimes look back on the 50s and 60s and say, ah, you know, a bunch of lefties, you know, trying to do something. But actually, it was a very creative time. because people were looking for some real values. And we had some trust in the government, and we had some, a little bit, anyway, trust in the white people, but we knew that we had to break out of the old molds.

[22:52]

a lot of dope going around, and people were, you know, in a way it was like today, disillusionment, a lot of disillusionment. Today, young people are very disillusioned, and they don't know what to believe in, and they're rejecting all the old norms. So, an interesting thing is that when Suzuki Roshi came to America, people had heard about Zen a little bit, Nobody knew very much. I didn't know that it was an actual practice. We read D.T. Suzuki and there were a few little books on Zen, but not very much. So, when Suzuki came, people started coming around to a Zen center on Bush Street, San Francisco. were really interested, started to practice.

[24:07]

I started to practice in 1964, just about five years after Suzuki Hiroshi came, and I had been in the North Beach scene for a long time, and I was very concerned, you know, about the people around me, because people were dying, they were getting, you know, stressed out on dope and then looking for something. And I felt that after practicing with Suzuki Roshi for a while, that I wanted to continue this practice and keep it open for people, make it available to people that I knew really needed it and were really looking for something. So that's But when I encountered Suzuki Roshi and the practice, I wanted to continue that practice.

[25:12]

And so I was very diligent, practicing twice a day. And every morning we'd go to... most days we would go over to San Francisco to practice at 5 o'clock in the morning. And then she asked me to open, to find some place in Berkeley. He used to come here and we'd have Zazen in somebody's house. And it was a very nice kind of morning. So I found this place on Dwight Way and we started to practice. And it was Zazen every morning and Zazen every evening. people would come, a lot of people would come and practice in the morning and the evening and go to work at a daytime. So when we started Tassajara in 1967, it was the same year that we started the Berkeley Zen Dojo.

[26:17]

And the monastic practice was basically the same as the temple practice. Zazen in the morning and Zazen in the evening. Of course we have to start with Zazen But basically it was, you work, you do Zazen, and then you work in the daytime, and then you study or whatever, and then you do Zazen again in the evening. So, for me, taking that same kind of schedule and making it into a quasi-monastic schedule in an urban setting like here. ever since. But I really felt that this is a way of practice that lay people can do.

[27:25]

We didn't have to be priests. It was a practice for lay people. This is what we originally had at Sokoji, was lay practice. And so I was very familiar with how to do that. And for a long, long time I was practicing without... I was the only priest since Hiroshi ordained me in 1969. And little by little we would start to have priests. because I felt that it would create some kind of a division in the Sangha. And so, when I did ordain priests, not many, my attitude was that priests are the servants of the Sangha, not some separate elite.

[28:32]

instead of being kind of put up on a pedestal, to be not in a low place, but not in a high place. And if a priest deserved to... So, fortunately, it's always worked. Everyone should have that attitude of being the servant of the Sangha. So, the Sangha... My idea of the Sangha was as a kind of grassroots neighborhood sangha, where the members support the sangha.

[29:51]

In Japan, you know, they have the priest and his wife and the children and the donka. The donka are the members, but they just contribute money. And some people do a little work, but my idea of sangha was everybody would engage in creating the Sangha as their own, as their place, and for us to do all the work ourselves that need to be done, and to support it with our finances. So, it's always worked that way. Instead of doing a lot of fundraising, we've always depended on ourselves to mutually support our Sangha and our practice place. And one of the things that we have done which I really feel good about is because the Sangha supports the place totally that each person has a position

[31:11]

and the positions rotate. This is a kind of quasi-monastic way of doing practice. We all have positions and the positions rotate. And this way we all learn the various aspects of our sangha, of our practice place. How to make it work. I think this is somewhat unique. There are a lot of places small Zendos, but they don't all work that way. So, I think this is a good model. I don't know if everybody can do that model, because it's the way we started out. Often, the way a place starts out determines the way it will go and it's hard to change. So I really appreciate the fact that we have been able to operate this way and that it makes our Sangha very strong.

[32:25]

So our participation is the main thing. We support the Sangha in many ways. One is through just by participating in zazen with each other, supporting each other that way. And we support each other by taking positions. And we support each other through our contributions, our monetary contributions. And it's always worked. And I've never... I've always kind of de-emphasized the monetary contributions. But whenever we needed something, I would ask for it, and immediately everyone would contribute. And we could always find a way to support ourselves monetarily, because we never nickel-and-dime people.

[33:31]

We never tithed people and always made things work monetarily in a very smooth way so that it was always simply just a part of things and not an emphasis. So it's interesting when we contribute Monetarily, we feel some kind of ownership or connection in that way. We value something that we contribute to monetarily. It's interesting. I remember people would say sometimes, well, you know, why do we have to pay for something like this? Even though, you know, we don't like to put a lot of emphasis on money.

[34:38]

Without it, things don't work. So money makes things work. It's the kind of grease that makes things go smoothly. And so we've never, although, you know, there have been times when we've had some kinds of But I don't remember us ever having a serious problem. Since 1967, when I kept our money and our contributions in a tin can. That's the way we started. I kept our $5 contributions in a tin can. Till now, the sangha has grown a lot. And it's much more complex. And the buildings always need to be continually upgraded. And now we have a vice abbot who needs to be supported as well as the abbot.

[35:43]

And so there is some need for us to not so much start fundraising, although that's always a good thing in moderation. but to be diligent in contributing our monthly dues. This talk is not an advertisement. But I do want to emphasize this, that we all pledge something as a And there's a sliding scale, so to speak, depending on your ability. But when we make a decision about what our contribution is, if everybody actually paid attention to that, it would make everything work really well.

[36:58]

We have about 150 members, maybe more or less or something, and if everyone actually contributed, we would be in very good shape and be able to support ourselves and to not worry so much about finances. It really is important and our building fund is important too, our upkeep of the buildings. We have four buildings. I don't know if you have a house of your own, but if you have one house, you know, it takes some finances to keep it up. And so we have four buildings. So the sangha is the sangha's responsibility to make sure that things work well, because it's your place.

[38:05]

When I started this place, I made sure that I didn't own it, that it belongs to the sangha. So I've always taken my head priest. But the Sangha, I must say, is always taking responsibility because it's your place. And I'm not trying to tell you to take more responsibility, but I think what I'm saying is, when you make a pledge That would be just great. So sometimes, you know, it's hard to say, oh, well, you know, we should ask people to do that, or we should send them a letter, or give them a phone call or something.

[39:15]

But we don't like to do that. Who likes to do that? But on the other hand, every once in a while we have to say something about, it's your place, please. remember to support it as you said that you would. So that's important. So I just want to remind everybody that's what keeps us going. So, you know, the steadiness of our practice You know, what I feel is wonderful about our practice, which is that it's so steady. Whenever somebody comes here, after they've been here, gone for 20 years, they come back and say, this is just like when I left.

[40:16]

You know, we're always, people are interested in progress. But actually, this is a place where we're not interested in progress. We're just interested in being. Samsara is the world of progress. Nirvana is the world of just being. So, you know, I think one reason why our practice has always been sustained is because we never really worried about money. or progress, or creating something big, or making a bubble. But, you know, nirvana is like the constant settled place.

[41:32]

And it's not affected by the ups and downs of samsara. It's just not affected by good times or bad times or high times or low times or good and bad. Not affected by any of that. It's a central place. So to me that's the value of our practice here. But it still needs to be sustained. Zazen, and work, and Zazen, and good night.

[42:45]

To keep that cyclical practice, which can seem very boring, but if we really have freedom, it's not boring. It's only boring when you compare it to the frantic pace of samsara, always needing the next thrill. So maybe you have some questions. I wanted to say that one thing that I found problematic And so they're not able to do when they said decisions because they're not able to pay for it.

[43:53]

And there's not really a culture set up so that people with a large resource will be able to contribute in such a way that people with a small resource can also participate. Well, that's not so. Because anybody can sit down, can sit to see. All you have to do is say it. I don't have any money. And then people say, well, then that is embarrassing for people. Too bad. You know? It's not embarrassing. It's simply the way things are. I don't have the money to do that. Well, you know, come and check the options. You don't have to... What I do is ask people to pay $1. Contribute $1. And if you don't have it, you know, if you can't contribute one dollar, you should go and find it. One dollar. You can find one dollar.

[44:56]

If you really want to sit down and if you really want to do something to find what that means to do it. So it's not very much. Fifty cents is okay too. Something. Contribute something. Or an apple. but contribute something. Otherwise, that means that it's totally free. Actually, cecine is free, but there's a fee of $40 or whatever it is, I don't know what it is anymore. But that's to pay for your food and to pay for machine, plus some support for the Zen Center for using the place.

[45:58]

But there was another part of your question. One was, they can't sit because of the tree, but there was another part of that. that there's not really kind of like this in-builtness to allow that. And sometimes it's just the language of how things are written up on like a flyer for a session or something. Well, yes, it's a good point that someone who has can afford more would be able to contribute to someone that can't afford it. That would be also a good thing to think about. I had a question about values and virtues. I was wondering if those are separate, and if they're not separate, which seemed like you were saying, how do you deal with the differences in history and culture between different practice contexts?

[47:16]

I mean, in some historical moments in some cultures, the economic system, the values, will be related to the practice of Buddhist virtues in different ways. Whether it's in Japan, you mentioned, it's different from here. It seems like, as a teacher and as students, we all are part of that moment that we live in, where our values are a certain way. So I was just wondering if these are two separate, pure domains. It's just a way of talking about it. It's nice when the culture values the virtue. But often the culture values the values, the materials. It's just a way of talking about values as being comparative, discriminating.

[48:17]

Where the virtue is your inherent virtue which is not compared to anything else. Can't be compared to anything. You are you. Totally. And your virtue is that your nature is Buddha nature. Which can't be compared to anything else. So that's the way of talking about virtue and value in this context. Nancy? I have a question from the kids. To say you're going to meet your enemy and not judge them and not be mean to them, why call this person an enemy? That's the basic thing. That's the best question. Why call them an enemy? That's the first step. That is the first step.

[49:21]

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