As I begin to type this entry, I am in the midst of an intensive retreat at the Ordinary Mind Zendo in Austin, Texas [ordinarymindaustin@googlegroups.com], This afternoon we took a break from sitting and gathered in a period of group inquiry. I began this period with a reflection - a story I heard from my ordination teacher, Zenkei Blanche Hartman, former Abbott of the San Francisco Zen Center. As we were sewing robes for priest ordination one day, she told me about her sewing teacher Joshin-san, a delightful and very dedicated woman who carried forth a very particular sewing style used in the preparation of Soto Zen priestly garments. The kesa is the most formal of the robes - a patchwork garment like the one supposedly worn by the Buddha and his monks, made originally from old discarded cloth gathered at the village dump or shards of wrapping left behind at cremation sites. Today we simply cut up perfectly good cloth and sew it back together in a prescribed manner handed down through the generations. Over these centuries, some of the ceremonial robes, especially in China and Japan, were quite elaborate and beautiful, made of the best silks and embroidery. Apparently, a Japanese gentleman had a stunning collection of these antique robes and had preserved them at great expense. As a master of sewing the kesa, Joshin-san was taken one day to view this collection. Rather than being awed by the brilliant pieces, she was horrified. Blanche said that apparently she said something like, “Every robe is the complete body of the Buddha. Why would you want to have more than one?” Her devotional understanding of what these robes represented was vast and deep. We may not understand this particular sentiment, and most of us do not wear these formal robes, but nonetheless we still recite the “robe chant” as part of our ritual of remembering what it is like to step into the container of an intensive retreat. We may not wrap ourselves in the literal cloth, but we do wrap ourselves in the tradition. Here is one translation of the traditional chant: Vast is the robe of liberation, A formless field of benefaction; Wearing the universal teaching, I realize the one true nature, Thus harmonizing all being. “Vast is the robe of liberation.” What is vast is liberation – not suffering. What we step into and wrap ourselves in is this vast reality, “A formless field of benefaction.” Without form and substance, and yet pervading everything and everyone, we can begin to awaken in and as this buoyant beneficence. Can we really begin with this realization, that liberation is a vast gift? At the beginning of the precepts ceremony in Soto Zen there is a completely revolutionary statement that reflects this same reality. It is often either simply overlooked or misunderstood. It says, “In faith that we are Buddha, we enter Buddha’s Way.” The entry into the Way of freedom is faith that we are already Buddha? This is the starting point? Most often people suppose that we enter Buddha’s way in order to practice so that one day we, too, will be a Buddha. However, the actual statement of our ancestors is clear: “in faith that we are Buddha, we enter Buddha’s Way.” This is the starting place. Here the way unfolds. “Vast is the robe of liberation, a formless field of benefaction.” The chant goes further to suggest that as we try on these teachings and begin to resonate with them, we recognize that they are not distant goals to achieve or theologies to believe in. The teachings are descriptions of who and what we truly are. “Wearing the universal teachings, I realize the one true nature.” I love the physical metaphor of “trying on.” We wear the teachings. We put them on. We embody them. It does not say, “Understanding the universal teachings,” it says, “Wearing the universal teachings.” There is a profound difference between these two messages. The difference points to the difference between a personal gain of the ego and something beneficial to all beings. “Harmonizing all being,” does not mean that we make our way through the world harmonizing by our individual, personal efforts. It suggests that we can actually become harmony. Once again, it is not something we can do. The personal ego cannot harmonize all being. However, as the individual self relaxes as the center of activity, harmony begins to move simply and easily as our natural state. This is who we are

Here is a beautiful reflection offered by Peg Syverson (see her Zaadz profile), during our recent intensive at Ordinary Mind Zendo. This is the same intensice in which I offered the reflection on "Vast Liberation." Our practice is the art of the possible. As Flint pointed out in his talk, that does not mean possible as in "someday maybe I will become enlightened": rather, it is the art of discovering what is possible in this moment: what it is possible to be, do, say, or experience that contributes to the overall wholeness quotient of you and everyone you know, every other being. The expression of that which is moving through you unhindered and unbound. That means if it is a moment of grief, a moment suffused with anger or impatience, a moment immersed in melting love, a moment of boredom, a moment of confusion, a moment of conflict, disturbance, serenity or even bliss: what is possible? Our practice is the practice of becoming sublime artists of the possible, sculpting experience, composing the music, crafting the poetry of this very moment. The wonderful thing about this practice is that you do not need to be "good" at anything, you do not need to worry about mistakes or lapses, because in the very next moment, a fresh canvas presents itself, a fresh audience appears, an in-breath is followed by an out-breath. And as we immerse ourselves in the wonder of this ongoing creation of our lives, the texture of the fabric and its impeccable design begins to reveal itself as a profound and incredibly rich pattern, a pattern woven of people, places, activities, processes, events, emotions, ideas, and relationships. And we begin to discover that this magnificent work of art we are somehow manifesting is so much vaster than we could ever have imagined. In this moment of recognition, we can realize our always already present awakened being. How can we not be grateful, even to those who have opposed us, even to those who fear us, even to our own selves, for the experience of being artists of the possible. Bodhisattva's Vow is not just a kind of boy scout oath to save all beings; a very nice homily for a sanctimonious life. Do you really understand the lines in it that sound so mystical, the lines that sound like someone who has been dropping some serious acid? When you really recognize the shift from judgment to appreciation without exception: Then on each moment’s flash of our thought there will grow a lotus flower and on each lotus flower will be revealed perfection, unceasingly manifest as our life, just as it is, right here and right now. This is not simply a metaphorical expression, it is a direct stroke of the master's brush, leaping off the page, through your ears, into your mind and heart. You don't even know what it means, because it is not comprehensible to the one who knows. “The meaning is not in the words, yet it responds to the inquiring impulse.” This line from the Jewel Mirror Samadhi perfectly captures the spirit in which Flint and I meet each of you again and again, in practice discussion, in inquiry groups, in our talks and the lives we live. It is a privilege to have this opportunity. Today, as I have been meeting with you in our practice discussions, over and over the word gratitude has been expressed, so I know this is on your minds as well. For the artist, life makes no mistakes: the jazz note that seems in error is repeated, woven into a new melody, the smear of paint becomes a window into another universe, the stumble in the dance reveals the vulnerability that is pure grace. We are exploding through our lives, the materials we are working with are volatile, ever changing, remarkable in their variety and potential. They are living materials, with the power to heal, to wound us to the core, to stun us into awe. They are not things we interact with, to push or pare or scrape away. The medium in which we fully express the life pouring through us is relation; it is what is always arising in the experience of what is: which is each other, the work we are engaged in, the environment that is so tenderly sustaining our fragile lives. And as artists, we recognize there is a craft to learn, a lifelong teaching and learning process that captivates us with its brilliant light. At every moment, we are working, not for fame or glory or wealth, but for the complete expression of that which we truly are. Don't hold back. Please, sit with this understanding, in curiosity and delight. Or in whatever is arising right now, in this awareness we are sharing. What is possible in "just a weekend?" What is truly possible? I think it is safe to say that neither Flint nor I believe that many years of dedicated practice are required to fully awaken right in this moment, nor some special technique, perfect teacher, or ideal spiritual community. I had a colleague, an expert on reading, who used to say, children don't learn to read. They can't read, and then they can. There are many ways that might happen, but it is ultimately binary: unable to read/able to read. This is the shift Flint was talking about when he mentioned stereograms. It is our funny, effortless, falling away shift when we let the life flowing through us freely express itself in our unique manifestation of body, mind, heart, and relationality. It is who we are, minus the believed stories that we tell ourselves, about ourselves, about the world, about everyone else. Can that really be enough? Well, what kind of artist are you? Do you want to make little, tentative dabs of the brush with safe, erasable colors? Do you really want to try to plan out the whole canvas in comfortable detail? Don't you want to work on this big masterpiece together? You recall the eko (dedication) in our morning service: Life and death are of supreme importance Time swiftly passes by, and with it our only chance Each of us must strive to awaken Be aware, Do not squander our life! Our life; the life; life itself, melody, harmony, dissonance, counterpoint, the only thing we can't do is stop the music. The eko urges us to plunge into our practice and our lives wholeheartedly, but you notice it is not a singular effort: it is our chance, our life... Can we be brave enough to meet this challenge, every moment a new, fresh canvas waiting for our colors, a silent instrument waiting for our touch? Waiting to resonate with the life that is within us?

This is basically the morning reflection I gave during this morning's sitting at the recent Leadership Pilgrimage [http://www.seton.net/locations/cove/]. I was urging the participants to see that they are no different from anyone else, and that they are completely capable of awakening to what every other person has realized throughout history. You are what you are seeking! Flint As we sample teachings form many of the great Wisdom Traditions, have you ever asked yourself, “Where does the wisdom come from? What is the source of these incredible teachings? What is the wellspring from which all of this flows?” It comes from just this – sitting in silence, stillness, and receptivity – having stopped – waiting; but a waiting that is not passive and barren, but a stopping and waiting that is spacious, attentive, and receptive to everything; a profound readiness. Despite the often-dramatic stories of the lives of these teachers of the past, you are doing exactly what they did, meeting exactly what they met, in the silence and stillness. And do you also wonder what kinds of people these sages and saints were? They were people exactly like you. Not similar - exactly. Human - both vulnerable and resilient - subject to birth and death. You have everything you need to realize what they realized. You have a body, a mind, relationships, and the weight of conditioning to wrestle with just like they did. All the ingredients are present. These ingredients have always been present and they will remain present for the rest of your life. They will never leave you and have never been apart from you from the very beginning. You can rely on this. The actual reality of your circumstances is much more reliable than anything you think about your circumstances. Use the reality of each moment as your teacher. Your ideas and ideals may very well be disappointed, but you will never be failed. By sitting here this morning you have made a choice – you have taken your seat - and that decision to sit in silence and stillness, will generate a response – you will be met in some way – in ways that will, at times, be obvious and in other ways which will be less obvious, but which will move you nonetheless. The responses you receive may appear supportive or obstructive, entangling or releasing, but you can’t know their meaning all at once. You have to see it through, and that seeing through sometimes looks dark and fearful, and sometimes bright and encouraging. The central choice made by the teachers of the past, and the choice available to you, is whether you will continue under all conditions – the very definitions of practice – the one thing you do under all conditions, as the great Zen teacher Katagiri Roshi used to say. If you think you are not like our ancestors, and you lack something – that is an interesting and problematic dream. If you think you are special and elevated with this realization – that is another interesting and equally deluded dream. This same reminder is echoed in Dogen’s Eihei Koso Hotsuganmom: "Before buddhas were enlightened, they were the same as we. Enlightened people of today are exactly as those of old." The Buddha was very disappointing to those interested in theology. He didn’t give us anything to believe in, nor offer metaphysics to explain the universe. He was only interested in one thing – suffering. His insights and practices were in response to this concern – how is suffering caused and how can it be ended? His first teachings were about what he discovered regarding suffering and his final teachings were a reminder that each person can have the same insights and the same freedom as he. Each person only needs to make the choice to practice and discover these things for themselves. Here is a contemporary and poetic translation of the first teachings of the Buddha – the Four Noble Truths – first used by Joko Beck at the San Diego Zen Center and still used at Ordinary Mind in Austin. Caught in the self-centered dream, only suffering. Holding to self-centered thoughts, exactly the dream. Each moment, life as it is, the only teacher. Being just this moment, compassion’s way. We can actually wake up from the self-centered dream just as our ancestors did. We can come to note the ways in which we cling to the dream as if it were reality in the same way that they did. We can turn to meet each moment as a never-ending source of wisdom, and in the relaxation of conditioning, allow compassion to flow. This is the human possibility – maybe the human responsibility.