I vow to taste the truth of the Tathagata's words. Good morning. Well, I'm going to have to speak loud because they're doing something on the roof next door. Can you hear me back there? Okay. Try again. How's that? Better? Yeah, that's better. Oh yeah, I can hear myself. So, this month I'm turning a ripe old age of 75 and it's really no different than 74. So I thought that what I would talk about today, I would give my way-seeking mind talk.

[01:04]

And I remember I started these way-seeking mind talks, I think either here or at Tassajara back in, I don't remember when. But I thought that it would be good for the students to give a talk about how they came to practice and something about their life. And that helps people to know each other and to accept each other. I've heard some wild, way-seeking mind talks. You never guess. Anyway. So I was born in 1929 in Los Angeles County Hospital, which is no longer there. When I go to Zenshuji, which is the Soto Zen mission in Japantown in Los Angeles, I realized that was very close to where I was born. Maybe that was where the hospital was.

[02:07]

But anyway, That was the year that ushered in the depression, the Great Depression. So I was a depression baby, and some of my mother once said that maybe I was the cause. So everybody's very poor, you know. It's interesting when you, I was thinking of way-seeking mind talks too, but it's interesting when you go through seven decades, you see how things have developed in the country in those years, and you see the various, you experience the various transformations. and so many people who have been born later, that's only either something they hear about or, you know, it doesn't always make an impact.

[03:16]

And sometimes I feel that because people, especially the younger people, don't experience, haven't experienced those transformations, they don't know how to think about the past 75 years or more, 80 years. So anyway, and when I hear people talk about, do their way-seeking mind talks, and the people that are 21 give a way-seeking mind talk, they don't have a lot of history. It goes pretty quickly. So it's hard to give a longer talk because it's so much history. So I have to make sure that I don't talk too much about some details, but anyway. So I went through the depression and I remember we were very poor and one time my mother sent me to the butcher to get a bone for the dog and she put it in the soup. And my father was always looking for work and he worked for the WPA.

[04:22]

and that's the Work Project Administration. They put people to work doing construction and so forth, you know, the government. The government was looking out for people at that time. Roosevelt was a great, no matter what people say, president. And so I went through the 30s and The war started in 1941, and I had moved to Long Beach. We moved to Long Beach, so my father was working in the shipyards. And I remember that when the war, the Second World War started, searchlights, you know, blackouts, everybody had to get blackout curtains. And we drew the blackout curtains at night so that there were no lights. But the searchlights were always looking for enemy planes, right there in Long Beach. And so we went through the war, there was gas rationing, everybody had a little sticker on their car.

[05:31]

Those were hard times, but there was a lot of energy. And the big war effort. And as a kid, I always, well, I never did well in school. Raul was telling me about his son who got three Fs and two Ds. That reminds me of me. Three Fs and two Ds and one A. in art. That's the only thing I ever thought about in school. I went through all my classes drawing on the paper, you know, not listening to the teacher. Dreaming, you know, I was a great dreamer. Dreaming and drawing. And I finally made it to graduate from high school. But the one thing that we never talked about in my family was money.

[06:35]

Never talked about money. And I remember when I graduated from high school, my father worked in a clothing store that was always going out of business. Never did, but. And he bought me a suit for my graduation. And the day after graduation, he took it back to the store. Which was okay. I have to say that my parents and my father really taught me about money, which was nothing, and I never really needed it. I would get 25 cents to take the bus to school, but I always hitchhiked, and that 25 cents was all the money I ever had. So I grew up without anything, without any money, and I never craved money or never really wanted it. I always felt I just learned how to operate without it.

[07:37]

When I see the way kids get money and spend money, it's just mind-boggling to me. I can't believe the way kids live these days. They have so much stuff and so much access and so spoiled. It's just beyond belief. But anyway, so, but I had, because there was this big energy for fighting the war, I had got caught up in that when I was a kid, wanting to participate. So I joined the Marine Reserves in high school, and I would go out on weekends, participate. And then when I graduated from high school in 1947, I went on active duty with the Marines. And when I got out of the Marines, I went to art school.

[08:42]

So I did the two things that I wanted to do in my life. One was, I said, I either want to be an artist or a soldier. So I did the soldier thing. And then I became an artist. I went to art school in Los Angeles. And then some of my friends said, well, there's this great art school in San Francisco. So the three of us came to San Francisco. And so I went to the Art Institute, which was called the San Francisco School of Fine Art at that time. a very well-known art school, and I studied with David Park and Elmer Bischoff and Clifford Still, and Clifford Still was the teacher that I was attracted to. I thought that I was supposed to, you know, earn a living at art, because, you know, you have to have, I was only 20 years old, you know, I think not even 21, because I went in the service when I was 17, got out when I was 19, and went to art school.

[09:53]

So I took these commercial art courses, but It didn't mean anything to me. I didn't really like it. It didn't fit. All I wanted to do was paint, especially when I got inspired by Still's paintings, my teacher. All I wanted to do was paint. I'm a kind of single-minded person. I just do the thing that I want to do and everything else is kind of irrelevant. I remember the day that I decided to give up the commercial art. I said, I don't care if I starve to death. It doesn't matter. I'm just going to do what I want to do. And that was very liberating for me. I realized I didn't, I just trust to life to take care of me. And at that time, every time I needed money, somehow it came. So I got, I built up a kind of trust that life would take care of me if I did what I wanted to do.

[10:54]

I was in the reserve. And they sent me a letter, said, you should report for your physical before going to Camp Pendleton. It wasn't a declared war, you know, but they had called up reserves. And then somehow there was a lot of objection to that. because there was an undeclared war and the people in reserves were complaining. So the day I was supposed to go, I got up in the morning and there was a letter under the door. And I opened the letter and said, if you want to resign from the reserve, sign this letter and send it back. Signed the letter, sent it back. So I continued in art school for a long time and then I got married.

[12:03]

And well, actually before that, I was an artist for a pretty long time. I met my first wife when I was an artist. And she was a poet, and she had cut her hair, and she had dyed what was left green, and she lived in a black room, and she wore her clothes inside out. This was in 1950, 52 or 53. She was ahead of her time. She's still around. And so we lived as an artist, and she was a poet, and we lived in the art world, you know? And very adventurous, North Beach, and you know, we knew a lot of the poets and so forth, and painters.

[13:17]

But at the same time, I had this, there was inside of me from my youth, actually, I did not have a religious upbringing. I was born Jewish, but I didn't have a religious upbringing. My parents never took me to the synagogue or anything like that, but I had this kind of seed in me that kept growing. And so I started exploring various religious systems. And I got very interested in being Jewish. And I was reading Martin Buber's Tales of the Hasidim, who are these really interesting Jewish mystics. And I got very turned on by that, and so I started living that kind of life myself. But there was no Hasidic teachers around, not in San Francisco, and it never occurred to me to go to New York.

[14:22]

I'm glad I didn't, because the Hasidic movement in New York has nothing to do with, it means nothing like the Eastern European, movement in the 18th century. So, I got very interested in that, and I started studying Christianity. And so the religious aspect was beginning to grow and flower, and that really took over my life more than my painting. My painting started waning. So one day, we always had a lot of people coming in and out of our house, and Philip Wilson came one time. Philip Wilson was one of Suzuki Roshi's first disciples. He had been a Stanford football player.

[15:25]

And he was a lineman, very well, husky guy. And he told me about, there's a Zen temple on Bush Street in San Francisco. And there was a Zen master there. I had read a little bit of Zen. D.T. Suzuki was just about the only thing you could read at that time. And the Zen library was about this big. I thought about that. And some other people told me about it. But I never did go there. This is 1963 or something like that. And maybe 60, yeah, about 63, maybe. And after that, my wife and I broke up.

[16:31]

We went our separate ways. And I was kind of at a loss at that time. And a friend of mine who lived, who was a poet, a friend of ours, lived down to Visidero and Fulton. He actually left me his house. He said, I go to the Zen Center, and I really like it. There's this Mr. Suzuki there. He's a priest. And he and I were smoking pot. We smoked pot until about, four o'clock in the morning, and then we walked up Fillmore Street to the Zendo. It was at 545. I was a cab driver at that time. I forgot to tell you what I did for my work. First of all, when I was in art school, a painter friend of mine,

[17:33]

said, you know, I got a job as a house painter in Marin County. They're building all these housing projects and they give you journeyman's wages if you join the union without ever having been a journeyman. It takes four years to be a journeyman painter. The first two years, you wash buckets and you wash brushes. And learning how to wash a paintbrush is an art. You don't know how to do that until you learn it so that you could use the paintbrush to eat your dinner and use the bucket to put it in. Anyway, so I joined the union. We were paid $2.45 an hour. $2.45 is like $25 an hour now. That was big wage, you know. So I remember the foreman, after we worked staining carports, you know, which all the stain starts running down your hand and on your arm, you know.

[18:35]

But it's the kind of stuff that painters don't want to do, but all that stuff has to be done. So I was a journeyman painter. And then I remember the foreman giving me two checks. And I thought, gee, they like me. But I came back to work the next day. I thought, maybe this is a bonus. He said, oh, we laid you off. That was what the other check was for. But he said, since you returned, we'll keep you working. So anyway, I worked. And then I started working as a painter. And I'd work with contractors. And I learned how to be a house painter. And then I worked as a boat painter. at the Nunez Brothers Boat Shop in Sausalito, which is no longer there, next to Sally Stanford's place. That was a wonderful job. I could just go in and out, you know, painting. And I could do my artwork at the same time as I was painting because I would work on jobs rather than just work every day.

[19:43]

And then I worked as a taxi driver. And so those are the two things I worked at. I was a taxi driver for about six years. So I want to skip back to where I was, which I can't remember. So I went to Zen Center. I was driving a taxi at that time and I had a suit and a tie because taxi drivers had to wear suits and ties, no beards at that time. And you had to get out of the taxi and open the door and they showed you how to assist women out of the taxi. You take their hand and put one hand under the elbow and help them out of the taxi. So it was a very elegant time in San Francisco. And then after that, you know, after the 50s, everything just went whoosh. And really, really and truly, there was a kind of elegant feeling about San Francisco.

[20:44]

It was a very sophisticated city. And then the cab drivers started wearing beards and old clothes, you know. although I think that's okay. It felt really degenerate to me because of, you know, you feel good when you're doing some service in a sophisticated way. So even the cab drivers had to have a sense of sophistication. So, So I went to, after parking the cabs, I started going to, after a while I started going to Sokoji. I remember though, when I went that first time, and I just said, here was this room, you walk in the room and there's tatami mats around the edge.

[21:46]

like here, and the altar. And I just sat down in the seat and looked at the wall. And then it was very quiet. And then somebody came up behind me and adjusted my posture and adjusted my head to show me where to look. And it was very gentle and kind. And I sat there and I thought, this is wonderful, there's nothing to do. But this, it's all alone. But, you know, how it is. And so it made a very good impression because I'd always thought about doing meditation. I'd always been interested, but I had somebody, actually I had a man, a friend who was interested in meditation and he taught me various meditations. But he didn't teach me Zazen. So I had a little bit of experience doing what he taught me. which is mostly paying attention to breath and looking at a candle or something like that.

[22:52]

Then after a little while, I started coming back. I remember coming back and sitting and my legs hurt. And I'd made some friends with some people and I said, You know, when I sit, my legs hurt. And he said, yeah, they always hurt in Zazen. And I said, oh. And I remember when I did my first Saturday morning, and I thought, we did one period of Zazen, and then we did Tianhen, and then we did another period of Zazen. And I thought, we're gonna do this again? And then we had breakfast, and then we had cleaning. And the cleaning at Sokoji was wonderful. It was a wonder, it was, you know, 1880 Bush was an old synagogue, naturally. Half the Zen students were Jewish, so it all fit together.

[23:56]

And we had this upstairs Zendo, nice, beautiful room. And we'd get a rag, and with wax on it, and you kind of lean over and walk or run, actually, with the rag on the floor to the other end of the room. And then you turn around and run back to the other end. And it was just so much fun to do that floor, you know? We don't have fun like that anymore. So work was really a good part of the practice. And Suzuki Roshi was just this priest. We didn't even call him Suzuki Roshi. We called him Reverend Suzuki. I kept coming back more and more, and one day I was sitting zazen, and I just had this wonderful feeling, an indescribable feeling. And I said, this must be what they mean by samadhi, which it was.

[25:00]

And I just said, this is what I want to do. You know, this is it. I've been looking for a practice for so long. I was 35. And I said, if I don't do this now, you know, it'll just pass me by. So I said, this is what I'm gonna do. And Suzuki Roshi, you know, was very gentle, but very firm. And I remember those first couple of years, You know, I went through excruciating pain, really a lot of pain sitting Zazen. And I was fighting it, you know. Suzuki Hiroshi was so wonderful. I remember we'd be sitting Zazen and waiting for the bell to ring, waiting for the bell to ring. At that time, people didn't know, we all were having the same problems. Nowadays, you know, there's so many people who sit well that when somebody comes in the zendo, that the energy of the zendo allows them to sit more easily.

[26:11]

But in those days, everybody was having problems, trouble, pain in their legs. And Suzuki Roshi would say, we just raised the bell, for the bell reason, we will sit 10 minutes more. But we did it, you know, we even put in the effort. So he just knew how to get us to put in that effort. And he always emphasized the effort of sitting. And he never let me slump. you would adjust posture all the time. You never let people have poor posture. So you put so much emphasis on posture. So I'd been sitting there for a couple of years and I'm trying to figure out how this goes.

[27:20]

I moved to Berkeley. And there was a man whose mother had an antique shop on College Avenue, and it had a little house in the back, a little hut in the back. And so Suzuki Hiroshi would come over to Berkeley on Monday morning. And the people in Berkeley, who were his students, maybe five or six, not many, would sit with him there, and we would sit together, and then he'd give a talk, and we'd have breakfast somewhere or something. And the zendo went to different places. from time to time. And so I was living in Berkeley. I moved to Berkeley. And so he asked me if I would find a place in Berkeley that we could use as a zendo because the Berkeley sanga was growing a little bit. And so I found this place on Dwight Way.

[28:24]

Huge house with a big attic and downstairs for $130 a month. about the second biggest house on Dwight Way below Telegraph. And so that became the zendo, and I became the caretaker. And we would sit in the morning, and when I opened the zendo, I said, well, I'm just gonna sit Zazen, and people can come, people can go, and whoever wants to do it can do it. And I wasn't recruiting people, or we never recruited anybody. We never had an ad in the paper or anything like that. People just word of mouth. So, um, There are people who are still practicing here who started in those first years, 1967, when we opened Zendo.

[29:38]

So little by little, the sangha grew, and Suzuki Goshi would come over on Monday morning, give a talk, and we'd have breakfast, and it was really quite nice, you know? Very nice. And then I went to Tassajara, But I didn't go for a practice period yet, but this was 1968, no, it's still 67. And in the summertime, and we had the first seshing, and it was in the dining room at Tassajara on the deck. Well, some of it was in the dining room, some in the deck, and the deck wasn't covered at that time. Walter gave me a photograph of that time. I remember, yeah, when the deck was not, was still open. And then we had this, it was really hot.

[30:45]

We stopped having sashins during the summer because it was so hot. But that was the first Sashin, and I couldn't sit to save my behind. I was just uncrossing my legs. But I was still a lot of determination. And when it was over, Suzuki Roshi asked me to come into his room, and he said, I would like you to join our order. I'm such a poor Zen student, why is he asking me to join his order? So, he said, I'd like you to become, to ordain you as a priest. And I said, well, it's okay with me. I didn't have anything else to do. But there were no priests, the only people that he ordained was Philip. Well, he had had some students before this era, you know, when he first came, who left before I got there.

[31:47]

And he had ordained this one person before I got there. And then he ordained Richard Baker and he ordained Philip Wilson and Ananda. And I think I was the fourth or fifth person he ordained, but there was no other priests around. Philip was around, and Richard Baker was in Japan, and so it was unusual to get, it wasn't usual to get ordained. I never even thought of, it occurred to me to ask him. So, I said, of course, you know? And I said, when? He said, well, when you're ready and when I'm ready. So two years later, after I'd done a practice period, he said, well, I think it's time to be ordained.

[32:53]

And he said, but I can't, I'm trying to decide whether to do it at Zen Center or in Berkeley. So then he decided that we would do it in Berkeley because the sangha had been growing and the sangha was kind of growing around me in a way, and so we did it in Berkeley. And we made this beautiful zendo in the attic. It was a wonderful attic. It was square and with a roof that went up like this on four sides. And you could see above the eaves, there was a space which light came through. It was a beautiful place. I was ordained in that attic. And then I decided that I would let the Sangha support me.

[33:58]

I was teaching music before that, teaching recorder playing as a support. And so I dropped that and I became a priest. And people were paying $5 a month in dues if they wanted to. and I kept the money in a tin can. But you didn't need much money to live, and I never needed any money to live at all. When I was a taxi driver, the wonderful thing about being a taxi driver is that you get paid every night in cash. You just take half. You give them the money, and they give half of it back to you in cash. So I always had cash, and I put it in my pocket, but I never counted it. I never counted my money. But when I needed something, there was always money there. So I have this wonderfully good karma with money. I have to tell you, I have the best karma in the world with money. Money is always there. It always has been. I never had it, but when I needed it, it was always there.

[35:05]

So I feel there's some guardian angel or something that takes care of my money. I didn't have to worry about it. So I was, I put the money in a tin can, and then when I needed some, I'd use it. And then somebody said, well, at some point, we have to have a bank account, because there has to be some separation between you and the Zendo's money. I said, okay, we'll do that. So I opened a bank account, and then I started keeping a ledger of the money. And I taught myself how to, I never wanted to do that, but I taught myself how to do that. And I enjoyed it. I enjoyed counting the money and the expenditures and so forth. So I was the first treasurer. and I was the cook, and I was everything. And we did the service, you know.

[36:07]

Whoever was doing the service did the bakugyo and the bells all at one, one person did all that instead of dividing it up. Because at that time, we didn't have anybody called Kokyo and Doan. That didn't come in until later, after we, God, this is such a long story. So, But it's interesting what happened in Berkeley. I think I kind of stick to that more. And then, because Zen Center was incorporated, I found out that a Zen Center could be incorporated. And I thought, that's really funny, you know, that it's a corporation. But they kind of grew on me. Well, maybe we should do that. And Liz, my wife, she wasn't my wife then, but she became my wife, she said, you're gonna incorporate?

[37:09]

That's against the spirit of sin. So yeah, I think it was Ron and I who went down to the Sacramento Incorporated, I think so. And So we became a non-profit corporation, and I became a CEO. So Ron Nestor was one of the very first students, and he lived at the Zendo. And a number of people lived in and out of the Zendo. And then I went to Tassajara. When Suzuki Roshi died, Richard Baker became the abbot of Zen Center. And so he asked me to go down to Tassajara and be the director.

[38:13]

So I said okay. He and I never got along, but I was still part of Zen Center. So Liz and I went to Tassajara, and she worked in the kitchen mostly and in the garden, and I was the director. And it was wonderful being at Tassajar and doing all that stuff. And there was good times and there were terrible times. And when I was gone, Ed Brown was one of the people who took care of the Zendo, and that's where he wrote the bread book, Tassajar bread book. And so then I came back and practiced with Zen Center, but I had a terrible time. I don't want to go through all this, but I had a terrible time relating to Richard Baker and the way he was doing things.

[39:17]

And so I was, we were, Berkeley Zen Dojo became kind of isolated from, separated from San Francisco. At first we were an affiliate of San Francisco. And so I practiced for a long, maybe 12 years. But in and out of Zen Center, you know, and I had a relationship with Dick and I had a relationship with all the people at Zen Center. But it was not like when Suzuki Roshi was around. And so we developed the Berkley Zen Center independently for the most part. And I became the de facto teacher. And Richard Baker, in order to have the authority of a teacher, you wanna have Dharma transmission. So, Richard Baker always withheld that. That was his, you know, he had the power to do that for us, but he withheld it.

[40:24]

But, you know, I just went about my business without, I said to myself, I'm just gonna practice. This is a very good time for me, because what it did was allow me to understand what my real practice was, not to get Dharma transmission or to get some special authority or anything like that, simply to practice and to put my energy into just practicing and not worrying about that stuff. And I said to myself, if my practice is good, if my practice is right, then whatever is supposed to happen will happen. I don't have to worry about that. And so I really had faith in my practice to bring whatever would come. So just before Richard Baker had his crisis, He asked me, he said, I wanna work with you in doing Dharma transmission.

[41:28]

So I said, okay. So we started doing it, even though I felt this is good because we don't really like each other. But he never did anything without a manipulative reason. But I knew that. So I was valuable to him in some way. But I said, this is the way it should be. He should be doing this. And then he had his big crisis, and everybody was mad at him, except me, because I'd gotten over being mad at him to begin with. But we decided that we wouldn't go through with it. And so, Huitzu, Suzuki Goshi's son, agreed to complete the dharma transmission, Suzuki Roshi's dharma transmission for me. So I had my dharma transmission in Japan, at Suzuki Roshi's old temple, through Hoitsu, his son.

[42:33]

And after that, I was able to, and then we had a, Abbott's installation here, 1980-something, four. And then I was able to act as a teacher and to ordain people and so forth. So that's pretty much my history of way-seeking mind. Anybody have a question? Say that again. Oh, no, no. No, that was... Michael Dixon, who was kind of like my Dharma brother at Sokoji.

[43:42]

His wife was the one who actually edited Zen My Beginner's Mind. She had cancer and died, yeah. And Mike Dixon used to sit in the full lotus. I thought, wow, how can he do that? And so then I started doing that. Oh yeah, you can do this. He was a wonderful person and was a wonderful painter. But he, and so when he came here, he came here to do sashin one time. And then he said, he said, this feels just like old Sokoji, you know? And so he painted, made that painting of Suzuki Yoshi and gave it to us. Do you still paint? Do I still paint? No, because the reason I don't paint is because to be a painter, I would have to be a painter 24 hours a day.

[44:46]

I can't just pick up and do a painting or something, because you're only doing one painting, but it's in little segments, right? So it's a continuous, continuing development. So I couldn't really do that because I'd just get caught up in painting and I wouldn't really be doing this. So this is my dedication and I think the reason Suzuki Roshi wanted to ordain me was because he saw my dedication and knew that I wasn't gonna do anything else. Do you ever miss it? Huh? Do you ever miss it? Painting. Say that again. Do you ever miss it? Do I miss it? Well, I don't exactly miss it, but sometimes I think about it, you know, and I look at a wonderful wall, you know, where all the paint's peeling off of it, or a billboard, I really love billboards, where they've taken all the paper off.

[45:55]

That'd be a great painting, you know. So I see all these wonderful paintings in the degeneration of things, but most people don't see those. Well, you know, when I was painting, my painting, I always felt that my painting had a spiritual quality, and that's what I was always trying to bring out, you know, in painting. And I would look at a lot of painters who were doing this non-objective painting, and I could just see how superficial they were because they were just thinking about surface, and I wasn't thinking about surface at all. I was thinking about quality or content. And I could see they didn't understand what this painting was. they were just following a trend. And Clifford still wasn't just doing surface painting. His painting was really powerful because it was very subjective and internal and spiritual.

[47:04]

That's what I was attracted to. But a lot of the painters, like, I remember, there's this movie about Pollock. Remember the movie about Pollock? And we didn't think much of Pollock on the West Coast, because it just seemed like surface. He was really involved in surface. And in that movie, someone said, you know, people think that Clifford still is a better painter than you are. Maybe the number one painter in America rather than you. And I thought, that's true. Are there any of your paintings around here? My painting? Yeah. You know... We should have one. I know. I had two paintings. We had a... It's Sokoji. we had a sale, not a sale, but a benefit, an artist's benefit.

[48:07]

So painters submitted paintings, and I submitted one. And then when the auction was, when the thing was over, I noticed that Suzuki Hiroshi had put my painting on the wall in his office. And that made me feel good because I felt that he understood my painting. I have two paintings, but I just left them. The people came in and inherited my house, and they inherited my paintings. We can have all these paintings. Yes, you can have them. I just left them behind. But a lot of people tell me that I was really a good painter. If I had continued painting, I think I would have been. I think so because I felt that I really had something to say in my painting, but I didn't continue.

[49:13]

So this is what I did instead. Well, one of them is not real typical of me, but the other one is, the smaller one. I'll try and find it. So, that's that. It's not all of it, but it's a little outline. So I'm, although I'm 75, I will be, July 9th. I don't, you know, I feel very good. It's very healthy and buoyant. And as long as I take care of myself. So I wanna urge all of you to please take care of yourselves. Because when you get to a certain age, the parts of yourself that you don't take care of,

[50:14]

will tell you that you didn't take care of me, I'm sorry. But, so, I really urge you to take care of yourself. And the best, I found for me, the best way to take care of myself was to find my proper weight. When you find your proper weight, then your whole body works harmoniously together. And when you don't, it doesn't. And as long as you keep your proper weight and your body's working harmoniously together, you can do anything you want, as long as you're not, you know, don't have any big problems. I think that's really the key. And exercise. Exercise really makes your bones strong, makes your heart strong, makes your breath strong. And It makes your muscle tone good.

[51:20]

So those are really important things.

[51:24]

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