March 25, 1984 Dharma Talk by Dainin Katagiri Roshi

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Summary

Katagiri Roshi concludes his series of talks on Mindfulness. Zen Master Dogen compares the method of Buddhist practice to the method of washing a robe. Mindfulness is dynamic communication. This moment is a blank canvas.

Transcript

Part 1

Listen to Part 1 of this talk on mnzencenter.org

Katagiri Roshi: The last sentence of the passage we studied yesterday should be explained a little more, because the translation is not so good. I said, “We should study the truth that there is the approach to buddha where we are taking advantage of.” I have to say something about this. Maybe… I don’t know, maybe I can say:

We should clarify the principle (or truth) that there is the approach to buddhas at the place where we are moving in the deep course of the practice.

We are practicing… In Japanese we say nen jo, literally “at the place where we take form of.”

You know the story of Buddha Shakyamuni when he transmitted his dharma in front of the assembly. He took the udambara flower and showed it to the assembly, and Mahakasyapa smiled. Mahakasyapa responded to the Buddha Shakyamuni’s demonstration with a smile. That means that taking the udambara flower and showing it to the assembly, simultaneously there is some response from the audience, from the assembly. So nen jo means “at the place where we take form”; [that] means we can take something, anyway. You can take something, and then you can communicate, you can have dynamic communication.

If you want to compose a poem about nature or wilderness and beauty of existence, whatever, you have to move toward first. So see nature, be with nature. That is then simultaneously you can have dynamic communication between nature and you. That is “at the place where we take form of something.” Literally that means at the place where we are using something. Using is not a good term; I don’t know. So practice, actually.

I think if you read the book Refining Your Life, Dogen Zenji [talks] about that. For instance, taking a piece of vegetable and build up Buddha’s temple, buddha-world. That means it depends on your practice whether you kill the vegetable or you make the life of vegetable alive, aiming at the human life for the long run. If your range is very short, I think this vegetable is there just for eating, for breakfast and dinner, et cetera. But if you deal with the piece of vegetable for taking care of the people who practice in the Buddha way for life after life, at that time you have to take care of the piece of vegetable with very careful, compassionate spirit. So very naturally a different world is opening, the flower of the world is blooming in a completely different way.

So that is nen jo.

“At the place”: place means occasion, too: time and space. So at the place or on the occasion of dealing with a piece of vegetable, and then that occasion and place is very important for us. To build what? The human egoistic world, or the individual egoistic world? Or Buddha’s world.

That place is very important; that is called buddha. You can do anything at that place. You can be a bank robber. You can be a pickpocket. You can do gassho at that moment, on that occasion. So it really depends on you, depends on your practice. What would you do?

That’s why this is nen jo. At that time, the place or occasion is really opening to you. To reach Buddha’s world, or help human beings, or creating the human egoistic world. It depends on your practice, your attitude toward that, how to deal with that place or opportunity, occasion.

[…] That is the meaning of this last sentence. I don’t know how I can translate it. This translation is a completely different way, because it makes sense for me.

So, “We should clarify that principle or the truth”: that is really the truth… open, universal to everyone, regardless of whether you become a Buddhist or not. Christian or non-Christians, it’s really universal. So that is we should study that truth, or principle, open to everyone, or trees, birds, everything. That [is], there is a road, or passageway, [an] approach, at the place where we are moving in the deep course of practice.

1 - 09:10

And then in the next passage, Dogen Zenji takes the method of washing the robe as an example. Let me read it first:

For example, it is just like the method of washing a robe. Water is contaminated by the robe; the robe is soaked in water. Although the robe is cleaned with the aid of water and by changing the water, water is still being used, and the robe is being washed. More than one or two washings are necessary, and we shouldn’t rest until it is clean. When the water is used up, we put more water in. We wash the clean robe again to make it cleaner. It is good for the robe to be clean that all kinds of water are used. We must clarify the principle that there is a fish in dirty water.

(From Katagiri Roshi’s translation of Sanjūshichi-bon-bodai-bunpō, “Thirty-Seven Conditions Contributing to Bodhisattva Practice,” in Shobogenzo.)

In the context of this passage there is something more than a method of washing the robe. He takes the method of washing a robe as an example, but this is the method of Buddhist practice. So I would like to explain a little bit about this.

For example, it is just like the method of washing a robe. Water is contaminated by the robe; …

This example is really [closely related] with the last sentence of the previous passage we studied yesterday. I mentioned that we should study the principle [that] there is the approach at the place where we are practicing. This paragraph we are studying today is nothing but the explanation of the last sentence of the previous passage, about the opportunity or place where we are practicing. What is the place, what is the opportunity [or] occasion where we are practicing?

So, “Water is contaminated by the robe; …”

… the robe is soaked in water.

When you wash the robe, okesa or rakusu, you have to soak the robe in the water. Simultaneously, the water is contaminated by the robe. That means subject and object. Simultaneously you have to deal with, instead of watching something in the distance without doing anything. Anyway, if you want to clean the robe, well, put it in the water! You have to wash it. That is the place and occasion you can have [an] open road to pass through.

That’s why here it says if you do something, simultaneously, “water is contaminated.” In other words, if you want to do zazen, then do zazen. Simultaneously zazen is contaminated by you, and you are immediately soaked in zazen. That is called “at the place you are practicing,” on the occasion you are practicing there.

And then [in] washing, something happens. Very naturally zazen and you are communicating dynamically.

And next he says,

Although the robe is cleaned with the aid of water and by changing the water, water is still being used, and the robe is being washed.

This is a little bit… Do you understand this one? [He chuckles.]

Well, “although the robe is cleaned with the aid of water and by changing the water” means, if you want to clean the robe, you have to use the water. And also, you have to change the water again and again. So if you want to do zazen, you should use zazen. And again and again you have to change zazen. Because every sesshin is different, don’t you think so? So you should change the spirit of sesshin. In other words, “change the water” means you must be fresh, always. Your spirit must be fresh, the spirit of sesshin must be fresh, every time. That is change the water. Change the water constantly until it’s clean. So that is the point it says here.

[…] But cleaned means, you should remember, Dogen Zenji says water is contaminated by robe: already there is subject and object, [already it is] in the light of human concepts. So zazen is contaminated, [and] you are soaked in zazen. So you are always thinking. If you see the contaminated zazen, you don’t like it, you know? [He laughs.] So you want to clean the zazen. But if you start to wash the robe, so-called practitioner, simultaneously water is contaminated by the practitioner. That’s pretty natural. Even though you see the contaminated water, constantly you should use the water, nothing else. Anyway, if you want to do zazen, use the zazen, whatever happens. Under all circumstances: up, and down, up, and down. Under all circumstances continually use the water [or] zazen.

But we don’t do it in that way. When you feel bored and you don’t like it, you want to get up from zazen and use something else. Because there are lots of things by which you are “captured,” fantastic things in this world.

So […] if you feel bored, I don’t think it’s necessary to do zazen. I understand that. If you want to do something else, you can do it. But remember, if you want to be a painter, anyway you have to be a painter. How? You should wash: by the canvas, and the watercolors… constantly using the watercolors. Even though you feel bored, even though you see the success or even though you see the failure of becoming a painter, anyway using the paint, constantly, and changing the water, again and again.

Just like a dancer always practices. If you want to be a dancer you have to continually use the water, so-called dance. […] Nothing else. Most people want to practice, or dance, only when they feel good. That’s very common. But if you want to be a dancer, you have to continually use the water. That’s the point in this sentence.

So, “Although the robe is cleaned with the aid of water and by changing the water, water is still being used, and the robe is being washed.” Anyway, it’s communication. Dynamic communication is taking place, constantly.

1 - 20:56

And then next he says,

More than one or two washings are necessary, and we shouldn’t rest until it is clean. When the water is used up, we put more water in. We wash the clean robe again to make it cleaner.

This is also a very important point for our practice. “More than one or two washings are necessary…”: maybe one or two, maybe a countless number, countless times you have to wash. “… and we shouldn’t rest until it is clean.” Constantly we have to keep washing.

So that is the practice of a dancer, the practice of becoming a painter, the practice of a poet. The practice of a professional job.

And “when the water is used up, we put more water in.” Sometimes you completely lose the spirit, and sometimes you feel disappointed. But at that time, pour the water again. Pour the water again means listening to Buddha’s teaching again. Open yourself, and listen to, and contemplate what you have listened to, and practice, continually. So that is “when the water is used up, we put more water in.”

“We wash the clean robe again to make it cleaner”: We have to wash the clean robe. We are [a] clean robe. Nevertheless, we have to wash the clean robe. Because we are buddha. If we are buddha, why is it we have to do zazen, you know? We are already buddha, that’s why we have to wash the buddha.

It [doesn’t] mean keep away from the dust, [or] if you are buddha, [you are] just a clean mirror. […] That practice [of] washing the clean robe doesn’t mean to keep away from the dust, or… how can I say it… [It doesn’t mean] not to interrupt me, not to touch the practitioner. [In] two ways: if you want to practice, you always say, “Don’t touch me, because I want to be a pure guy.” Or, if you want to keep “pure guy,” you say, “Get away.” You don’t want anything dirty. That’s very common. Do you understand? In the moral sense, you do always like this.

But that is kind of a very aggressive, greedy practice. It’s not religious practice. Religious practice is more warm and deep and compassionate.

Just like preserving the autumn crops, in the stories. Do you understand? We say, “Preserve the seed of buddha-nature.” You are buddha. So you are buddha [is like] perfect, ripe autumn crops… persimmons, or sweet potato. But you have to preserve it, for long.

When I was at temple, during the winter time we didn’t have food so much. We had lots of sweet potatoes, offered by the people. So, I dug a big hole in the floor, and put the dirt around, keeping away from the humidity, et cetera. And then put the dry rice straw, you know, or skin of rice, what would you say? [There is some discussion about this, and some laughter.] Chaff? The outside of the rice, you know, that’s very nice to keep something warm… not so [much] warm, but keeping away from the humidity. So, I made a hole and put that… [material]. [Laughter.] And then I put the sweet potatoes in it, and then you can preserve them for long. That’s pretty nice. But I made the hole and put the dirt around, watching carefully, stuffing up holes everywhere – but tiny, tiny holes there. And the wind comes in, cold wind blows into those holes, and then the potatoes rotted. I tried to make the hole very carefully, but still lots of holes there.

So, instead of keeping away, or “don’t touch me,” et cetera, here is already a nice sweet potato crop in autumn, so we have to preserve this. Instead of […] kicking out the rats and mice to keep the sweet potatoes, we try to make a nice hole, you know? Storage. Watching carefully, taking best care of that storage. That’s it. But unfortunately, or fortunately [he laughs], lots of holes there. By our intellectual sense, we try to check and find out the hole and fix it – but, still lots of holes.

In my village, one of the young guys mended wooden buckets. And then my master asked him to fix one of his wooden buckets, so he said, “Yes, yes I do.” So he did it. He brought that bucket to the temple, and after that my teacher used the bucket. But still, water is leaking. [He laughs.] So, later […] when this guy visited the temple, my master says, “Bucket you have fixed is not good enough, because water is leaking.” And then that guy says, “The water in the temple is very delicate, isn’t it?” [Laughter.] “More than other water in the village.” So, my master was laughing. He couldn’t be mad at him.

Do you understand? [Laughter.] That’s a nice story, anyway.

So, that is our practice. Do you understand that meaning? Your mind is always going out to the object or to the subject, instead of preserving the seed of buddha-nature, the crops themselves. In order to preserve the crops, your mind shouldn’t go to the object or to the subject. If your mind goes to the object, that’s very aggressive. If you go to yourself, that’s very arrogant. Don’t you think so? “I am a pure guy, so don’t touch me!” [you always say]. People say, “Don’t touch me.” Always protecting yourself. Protecting yourself or keeping away from the object; that’s very common practice for us. But that is the cause of aggression, greediness, and also arrogance.

In a story, one of the disciples of Tozan Zen Master practiced in the heart of the mountains. Usually he went down to the temple to have a meal, but one day he stopped coming down to have a meal. So Tozan sent one of his disciples to check what was going on there. So, the disciple [asked the monk], “Why didn’t you come down to the temple to have a meal?” The monk said, “It’s not necessary for me to come down because angels brought food to [me].” […] Do you understand ‘angel’? And then [the disciple] came back to Tozan Zen Master and told that story. And Tozan Zenji said, “I will go see him later.” [Laughter.]

So, [Tozan] went to see him and he said, “I had thought that you had been [an] excellent monk among my disciples, but still you are talking about angels offering the food. That’s ridiculous.”

Because there is a little hole, you know? [A] tiny hole, [and] the water leaking through that hole. Anyway, angels find that hole and come in! But if your practice is perfect, there is no hole. So, no one can come in. Do you understand? Even the water in the temple, which is very delicate, more than other water – still even that water cannot come in.

So, that’s why finally Tozan Zen Master burned out that hut. So he couldn’t stay there, so he came down and lived with the monks. I don’t know. [He laughs.]

So, that means Tozan Zen Master found the very strong arrogance within this monk’s life. Because always, you know, keeping away something – keeping away from objects, or protecting himself, whatever. In order to protect yourself, you can see something wrong or you can see something good. Whatever you see, that is a cause of arrogance.

So that is not Buddhist practice, because Buddhist practice is very warm, compassionate. Very compassionate.

That’s why Dogen Zenji says in the Shobogenzo something like this: “Hearing the proclaiming [of] the dharma life after life, existence after existence, is to hear the dharma world after world. We can hear in our present existence the dharma which has been transmitted from the past up to the present. Within the dharma there is creation and destruction. Therefore, if we rightly transmit the dharma throughout the entire universe of the ten directions, we can hear it life after life and practice it existence after existence, since the dharma is actualized life after life and manifested in existence after existence.”

So, washing the clean robe – in other words, preserving the seed of buddha, buddha-nature – preserving the crops in autumn. That practice is something going constantly. You don’t know when you preserve perfectly. You don’t know when small holes appear in storage. So, you have to anyway take best care of storage. Storage means the circumstances, your human body, human mind, and people – taking care of [them] with our best [effort]. And then, you don’t know when you complete your practice, the practice of preserving the crops. We don’t know. We don’t know when [there is] failure of preserving. We don’t know. So constantly we have to do. Even though materialistically you preserve something perfectly, [still] the weather, everything, circumstances are changing. So, we don’t know what’s happening.

So, we have to do our best to take best care of storage, in order to preserve the seed of buddha-nature. That is our practice.

And he says …

Part 2

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We wash the clean robe again to make it cleaner. It is good for the robe to be clean that all kinds of water are used. We must clarify the principle that there is a fish in dirty water.

“It is good for the robe to be clean that all kinds of water are used” means water of bodhi-mind, water of the practice, water of enlightenment, water of nirvana, water of life and death, water of delusion and enlightenment, water of washing your face, water of having breakfast – anyway, we have to constantly wash our bodies, our mind. Because bodhi-mind, practice, enlightenment, nirvana, life and death, and delusion and enlightenment, all are dharma-nature, [that] means completely white canvas. So, we can use all kinds of water.

“We must clarify the principle that there is a fish in dirty water.” If you use clear water – so called bodhi-mind, practice, enlightenment, nirvana, life and death, zazen, and gassho, et cetera – the moment when you use it, the water is contaminated – but you are already soaked in water, so you cannot escape. And also, in the dirty water there is practice of washing your body, washing your clothes. Even though water becomes contaminated by clothes, anyway it is washing, constantly.

I told you before: If you look at Mount Fuji in the distance, it is really beautiful, so you are really inspired to climb that mountain. So you start to climb the mountain. [That] means you start to wash with the Fuji mountains, because it’s beautiful, clean water. But when you start to climb the mountain, [the] water becomes contaminated, because [it’s] hard work. Just hard work. Sometimes nothing. Sometimes risking your life: fear, anguish, exhaustion, sores, pains. So completely Mount Fuji is contaminated. But you are soaked in water, mountains.

But in this dirty water – so-called hard work, and easy work, feeling bad, feeling good – under the water there is a fish. So-called perfect beauty of the mountain [is] there. So all you have to do is, just climb the mountain.

So “just to climb the mountain” means preserving: preserving the seed of the great mountaineer. Completely beyond [whether] you like or dislike. If you want to be a mountaineer, you have to climb the mountains. Constantly wash with the water, so-called Mount Fuji.

Anyway, wash. So very naturally, the water becomes dirty, but by this dirty water you can be washed. And finally, you can see a great mountaineer. Even though you don’t know, people say you are a great mountaineer.

But even though people say you are a great mountaineer, you [aren’t satisfied]. Still you feel immature. So you constantly climb the mountain. If you do it, finally, beyond the criticism or reputation from society, from people, you just climb the mountains, constantly. That person is called “great mountaineer.” [An] expert. Well, whatever you do – mountaineer, painter, or teacher, whatever you do – that is a perfect [ripeness].

I say ripeness; [there are] three kinds of ripeness. Okay? [He laughs.] The first ripeness […] is the fruit on the branch. […] In other words, you attain enlightenment. [He chuckles.] Your practice is mature; very naturally you experience something. Then next, you have to polish your experience again and again; very naturally, that persimmon becomes red and ripe. That is ready to eat. And then, if you leave it more on the branch, the persimmon becomes completely ripe and falls down to the ground, naturally, and all the guts of the persimmon comes up. That is the third type of ripeness, [or] maturity.

According to the third type of maturity, you can climb the mountain constantly, beyond criticism or reputation from society, from people. You don’t care. You listen to; you really accept smoothly. But you are not [swayed away]. Everything comes to you, but everything becomes digested and becomes energy. So that’s just climbing the mountain constantly. “All guts out” means nothing to hold on [to]. So he is accepting many things, and just climbing the mountain.

According to the second type of maturity: well, still it’s ready to eat. [That] means still arrogance is there: “I am ready to teach.” [He chuckles.] “I am ready to be a priest,” et cetera. “I am ready to give you something.” That is ripeness, but it’s still arrogance there. So that person is very often swayed away by reputation and criticism by people, by society.

According to the first type of ripeness: of course, it is already ripe, but it’s not good enough. So you have to learn a lot, suffering a lot. Because you don’t know how to manifest ripeness in your everyday life, practically. You don’t know how to make it alive. So lots of stumbling [around] there. Even though you attain enlightenment, even though your life is mature, it’s not good enough.

So very naturally, our practice is just to continue to practice in terms of the third type of ripeness, constantly. That is preserving the seed of the crops.

So that’s why in the last sentence, Dogen Zenji kindly tells us, “It is good for the robe to be clean that all kinds of water are used.” Everyday life. Using dharma-nature, using the bodhi-mind, practice, enlightenment, delusions, life and death, you wash.

[…] But when you wash, we must clarify the principle – this is the truth, whoever you are – that there is a fish in dirty water. Your water becomes dirty, but in the dirty water, very clearly, there is a fish. That is perfect buddha-nature there.

So all you have to do is, no matter what situation happens – dirty water, clean water, delusion, enlightenment – stand up straight, just keep going, climbing the mountain. That is our practice. Taking care of your body, taking care of the mountains, taking care of people surrounding you. That is taking care of storage, for preserving crops.

That’s all I want to say today. Do you have questions?

2 - 11:54

Question: Hojo-san? When we’re sitting zazen and doing shikantaza, just following our breath, is that zazen contaminated too?

Katagiri Roshi: [Yes.]

You don’t think so? [Some laughter.]

Why do you ask me? That question is already dirty water. [He laughs] Don’t you think so? Because you see already dirty water, that’s why you make a question like that.

If you just take care of your breath with oneness, I don’t think it’s necessary to ask, because breath is exactly with you, constantly.

But when you have even slightly some space to look at the breath objectively, the water becomes dirty. That’s why hard work, or good concentration on the breath, and following the breath – many things come up.

Same person: So is wholeheartedly following the breath something like the clean robe that’s been washed, but then just constantly washing it again?

Katagiri Roshi: Sure. Whatever you think – “I am ready to clean,” “I am already clean” – that is already arrogant. Don’t you think so?

If you see “I am already clean,” that means you already see the cleanness objectively. So it’s not really clean.

So very naturally, you have to clean the “cleanness” you have thought. [He laughs.]

In other words, I say, “Don’t think,” so you try to not think, and then in the process of practicing you can see real space. You don’t think. Then you say: “I got it!” But it’s already dirty water, don’t you think so? [He laughs.] If you say, “I got it,” it’s already you thinking.

It’s very quiet.

2 - 15:07

Question: I don’t quite understand what you’re talking about, about the persimmon. You said when the persimmon is just on the tree, it’s like saying, “I’m ready.”

Katagiri Roshi: Yes, the second type.

Same person: So the second one is like saying, “I’m ready.”

Katagiri Roshi: Ready to eat.

Same person: So there’s arrogance there?

Katagiri Roshi: Yeah, pretty much…

Same person: Okay, but in the third type, when it falls on the ground and everything just kind of comes gushing out…

Katagiri Roshi: That is completely beyond arrogance et cetera. But if you eat it, it’s very tasty. Very tasty. You have never tasted that persimmon: very soft. Right after the persimmon falls down on the ground and all guts are gushing out, you eat it. Very tasty. [He laughs.]

Question: Is it possible that that happens many small times during practice?

Katagiri Roshi: Mm-hmm.

Question: And then it’s also a pattern for a whole life or for, say, a whole journey to enlightenment. It happens small times… I mean it may happen many times over and over again…

Katagiri Roshi: That’s right.

Same person: … the whole three stages of ripeness.

Katagiri Roshi: Mm-hmm. Well, if you’re between the first and the second, there are many, many small kinds of ripeness. Countless number.

Same person: Yeah, that’s what I was wanting to [say].

2 - 17:15

Question: Roshi? Your picture of preserving the seed, like in storage somehow, I don’t think I understand how that’s different than protecting oneself.

Katagiri Roshi: It’s not protecting oneself.

Same person: Right. How is it not?

Katagiri Roshi: That’s why I say, usually we protect subject. At that time you don’t want, immediately. If you try to protect the subject, very naturally there is object. Do you understand? So that’s why, if you want to protect the subject, very naturally you want to keep away from object, who interrupts you or which [is] interrupting. You know? So [we] consciously or unconsciously [do that]. We do [that], very naturally. That’s why […] not protecting self. On the other hand, not to keep away from the object. If you keep away from object, you have to always clean yourself. So that is aggressive, aggressive, constantly. So you don’t fix up, you don’t make a perfect storage around. Do you understand?

Same person: I’m not sure. The little holes… ?

Katagiri Roshi: You don’t take care of the holes in the storage. You […] protect subject and keep away from the object, always. But [in] between, you don’t care, so whatever happens. Do you understand?

Same person: … No. [Laughs.] … Is there just like a real thin edge between those two, and that’s…

Katagiri Roshi: No, I don’t mean that. [Well,] maybe, maybe you can temporarily think that.

Same person: How long can I think that? [Laughter.]

Katagiri Roshi: Because I use “storage,” so storage [is] there, you know?

If you want to live in this house, how can you live in peace? First of all, you want to protect yourself inside? So you are always looking at the outside, or inspect around here, you always clean here. Don’t you? Or, you’re always looking outside, and then always pick the rats and birds, in the morning zazen you pick up and throw it away. Always you do, if you want to live inside in peace. But if you want to live in peace in this house, then why don’t you take care of this house? And then you can live in peace. Quite different, don’t you [think]?

Same person: Okay.

Katagiri Roshi: That is […] practice. “In peace” doesn’t mean completely in peace, like taking a nap. It doesn’t mean that.

Living in peace [is] in Japanese, “[reiwa]”… “[Reiwa]?” I don’t like Japanese. [Laughter.]

[Reiwa]? [There is some shared laughter over the pronunciation.] In Japanese “[reiwa]”, the [character] is very interesting: “[autumn] (or order),” and also “mind.” “[Autumn]” and “mind,” that is called “[reiwa]”, meaning concern, to be concerned about. It’s interesting, isn’t it?

So, living in peace and harmony is not taking a nap. It’s to be concerned about. That concerned about means very compassionate, very kind. So taking care of this house. That is [to] live in peace.

But people don’t understand this one. If you say only “peace” – just peace, just like taking a nap. I don’t think it’s taking a nap, that’s not peace. That’s a sleeping peace. Peace must be alive, interconnected, interpenetrated with all sentient beings.

2 - 22:34

Question: Maybe it’s a kind of stupid question, but why do we like peace so much? Here we are, staying here, watching the wall for five days. And you are still saying [that] even then, you have to practice a lot, for life, maybe life after life, to get some kind of peace and harmony. But emptiness tells you, even if you practice a lot, you may be not going to get something like that. And still we want to do those things. Is it [obvious] that we like peace and harmony?

Katagiri Roshi: Yeah, we like peace and harmony. Naturally, and basically – completely beyond your speculation – human nature, original-nature is very peaceful and harmonious. Regardless of whether you are conscious of it or not.

If I say so, people grasp it. [He laughs.] Hold on to it, attach to it. That means you already hold […] it in your hand. That [is] attachment. So that looks like making water dirty. But it’s [now already not] peace.

So real peace is holding on and let it go. Anyway, let it go: be peaceful, practically. When? At the place you are moving [in] the deep course of practice. When you do gassho, within the gassho, this is the place, this is the [opportunity], occasion, [where] we can have peace, we can be in peace and harmony. […] And then within this, you must be peace. Gassho must be peace, alarm must be peace, anyway. Don’t you think so? That is called peace.

But if I say, “within the gassho, there is peace,” we already grasp it, and understand the peace idealistically, intellectually. So peace is conceptualized. That is already making the water dirty. But real peace is, if you understand the peace like that, do it. That means let it go. You have to let it go, and practically, you have to create, you have to let the flower of peace bloom, day to day.

So we are buddha. Why do we have to practice like this always? We are peace, we are harmony, originally. If so, why do we have to do this?

Okay?

2 - 26:00

Question: Hojo-san? [How long] did Tozan and Ungan…

Katagiri Roshi: Tozan and Ungan?

Same person: Yeah. It’s that person who lived in the hut?

Katagiri Roshi: Oh, Ungan. Yes.

Same person: Had they known each other for a long time?

Katagiri Roshi: Mm-hmm.

Same person: And… well, you told that story before, but I didn’t remember that Tozan burnt down Ungan’s hut. But did he do [that]?

Katagiri Roshi: He did.

Same person: Mmm.

Katagiri Roshi: Maybe not. [Laughter.]

Maybe not. Maybe he did. Yeah, I would say he did, anyway. [Laughter.]

Well, even if in the story he didn’t burn the hut, in the meaning, in the deep sense, he did. Because he said, “You are still creating a crack through which cold water blows in.” That means he always created cracks, you know, through which ‘angels’ [were] invited.

Same person: Did Ungan have to go back to the monastery?

Katagiri Roshi: [He] had to go back to the monastery to have a meal and et cetera… if he [wasn’t burned up]. [Laughter.] If he [was burned] up, he has to completely go back. [He laughs. Laughter.]

2 - 28:50

Question: Hojo-san, could you say something about the practice of mindfulness in daily life? I’m a little bit confused about what it is now that you’ve explained. [Laughter.]

Katagiri Roshi: It’s interesting, isn’t it? [Laughter.]

When I went to Milwaukee, the Tibetan group asked me to talk about Zen, so I talked. And at that time, a mother and a little boy on the chair listened to my talk. [While I was talking], he said, “Mommy, I don’t understand what he is talking about!” [He laughs.] Everyone laughed. [Laughter.]

Uh… what do you think about mindfulness?

Same person: You said something earlier in the week that you’re mindful of mindfulness, and that’s not mindfulness.

Katagiri Roshi: Mm-hmm. Because…

Same person: Because you already have subject.

Katagiri Roshi: Yeah, mindfulness must be alive. Okay?

By mindfulness, you can try to create something. That is already subject and object – dualistic. But “mindfulness must be something alive” means mindfulness itself is peaceful, mindful – perfectly. That is called you should open mindfulness, you should leave mindfulness. You should leave [no] trace of the mindfulness.

Same person: So no trace of mindfulness.

Katagiri Roshi: No trace. Because you have to be exactly right there in mindfulness.

Same person: And you know you’re there?

Katagiri Roshi: Yeah, you can know. That is called wisdom. By wisdom, you can know.

But still, by the wisdom, if you know it, it’s already something dead. So real mindfulness is something alive, constantly. That is, you don’t know.

So only mindfulness knows how mindfulness is [going]. That is so-called living fish.

So living fish is water, and water is exactly moving when a fish moves. So, not separated. With our naked eyes, [they are] always separate. But the real meaning of swimming of a fish is constantly oneness between water and fish. That is one, the same and one movement.

The same applies to mindfulness.

So mindfulness is, simply speaking, mindfulness. [He chuckles.] For instance, if you see the book, and deal with the book, hold the book with mindfulness. Okay? That’s it.

2 - 33:05 end of recording


This talk was transcribed by Kikan Michael Howard. Audio recordings of Katagiri Roshi are being used with permission of Minnesota Zen Meditation Center.

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