This is Sunday, July 6, and this morning, I'm going to dive into the topic of hope, which in Zen involves some some nuance that can be easily misunderstood. There's so much suffering and turmoil that's happening in our world right now, and we have the capacity to stay informed of it more than at any other point in human history, thanks to the technology that brings the news to us and other people's opinions about it, 24/7, at rapid speed and from All over the planet,
and as a consequence, not not just the content, but the sheer quantity of information that we receive can feel overwhelming, and because we do have a tendency to latch on to the bad news. In particular, you can easily find yourself feeling hopeless. And yet, here we are working on a practice that centers on opening up to things as they are, living in harmony with life as it is not how we want it to
be. So on the surface, especially if you're consumed by thoughts about all the things that are going wrong, this practice doesn't make any sense. No, I am not okay with things as they are. I'm not okay with this, and if I am, does that mean that I approve of what's happening? Does it mean I'm complicit in the harm and suffering.
There are so many people, entire communities, that are in really vulnerable situations right now, people who are in in dire need of being defended and protected, and Not just people also the climate.
What got me on this topic of hope is that a couple of weeks ago, I was invited to participate in a interfaith panel discussion at a local university on the theme the stated theme of holding on to hope in difficult times, holding on to hope in difficult times. And I saw this as a opportunity to connect with local faith leaders, but also an opportunity to share a perspective on hope that differs from the conventional view. The conventional view involves holding holding on. It's basically a desire for something good to happen in the future, and it centers on the belief that one can. And should work toward a desired outcome, even in the face of adversity.
And if we're really being honest, we can say it's it's a desire for things to happen in a way that fits with our preferences, with our beliefs and values, and also our sense of morality and justice.
Our highest hopes may be to live in a world that is very different from the one we're in now, where everyone is treated with with dignity and respect, where everyone has access to food, nutritious food, shelter, safety, employment, education,
where no one is judged or excluded on the basis of their race, gender, nationality, age, ability and so on,
a world where we live in peace, where we work out conflict and disagreements without resorting to violence and war.
We can throw in some rainbows and sunshine too. I you. So naturally, we look at this mess that we humans are making, and we want it to be different. We hope for it to be different. But if we're holding on to hope in the sense of grasping for things to change to the way we want them to be, there's a kind of fixer mentality that's operating we Want to fix things to our liking, looking at an uncertain future, a future that we desire to be in control of, and clinging to a certain outcome, result that we desire as well, and then all the while, there's going to be this, this fear that we won't get what we want, that fear will always be lurking in the background, because the future is beyond our control. So this means that even when our aspirations are well intentioned, which they often are, we end up fueling more dissatisfaction, more anxiety, and also righteousness and pride, especially if we believe that our perspective is the morally superior one,
and yet it's all a fantasy. We don't have control over the future. We're not in control of other people's beliefs and actions. We're not in control of forces of nature. Everything is constantly in motion. You nothing's permanent, and that's why clinging to this ordinary kind of hope itself is a form of suffering. It's a kind of craving you. Uh, that more of more often than not, leaves us feeling disappointed.
There is one thing we can do, though, and you could say it's one thing we have control over, to some degree at least, and that is where we direct our attention, on our practice, on the breath, the koan on whatever it is we're doing, sitting, eating, walking,
sleeping, if
Okay, or we give our attention to thoughts, and that's a choice that we all have to make, Moment by moment, and when we do make the choice to be present, to be here, it's not that thoughts are not going to come up. They will. That's what thoughts do, but we have that choice to return to this persistently, keep returning you.
And all of this is not to say that feeling hopeful or optimistic about the future is a bad thing, as if it's, I don't know, naive or unrealistic. I realistic. The fine point here is the distinction between clinging to getting what we want and opening up to life as it is, as it unfolds, as it reveals itself to us, Moment by moment.
So this, this opening up, is really a very different kind of hope and and it reflects the nuance of Zen practice that I mentioned that often gets misunderstood. It also relates to our ability to see clearly and be responsive, to be of service, to give ourselves freely. So
without really knowing much about Zen practice and about zazen in particular, you might think that devoting time on a daily basis, whether it's 30 minutes or more, or three or more hours, as we do in our Residential training program, or in seshin 10 or more hours, you might think that this sitting still in silence, facing A wall, is cutting oneself off from the world,
escaping from it. Even the word retreat, as in meditation retreat, kind of sounds like that, as if we're. Retreating from suffering and chaos, turning away from it, getting a break. And that's I suppose. Why. When you tell people that you're doing a sesshin or a meditation retreat and they know nothing about it, they might say, Oh, that sounds wonderful,
relaxing.
But it's actually just the opposite. I sit in taking up this practice we're we're working on breaking through the thoughts that cut us off from suffering or numb us to it, breaking through the mental barriers of self and other, us and them, me and you, mine and yours. So practice is not at all an escape from suffering. It actually involves getting intimate with it, getting intimate with your own suffering and that of others and the planet you
my suffering is your suffering, and your Suffering is mine. It's not to
there's a passage from Pima children's book start where you are that I want to read. She's a Tibetan Buddhist nun and the abbess of Gampo Abbey, which is in Nova Scotia. And this book is about not rejecting the painful aspects of our lives. And the passage is from a chapter on the three poisons, greed, anger and delusion. She says, the three poisons are always trapping you in one way or another, imprisoning you and making your world really small when you feel craving, in other words, when you're driven by greed, when you feel craving, you could be sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon, but all you see is this piece of chocolate cake that you're craving with aversion that is clinging to anger. With aversion, you're sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon, and all you hear is the angry words you said to someone 10 years ago. You
with ignorance, which is another word for delusion. With ignorance, you're sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon with a paper bag over your head. Each of these three poisons has the power to capture you so completely that you don't even perceive what's in front of you. If you've ever been to the Grand Canyon, you know how spectacular it is. Can imagine being there, maybe hiking along one of the rim trails, being so caught up in thoughts that you don't even see this. This, this otherworldly place. Instead, you're complaining about the heat, the smell of the donkey poop along the trail. You. So you're thinking about the end of the hike, where you might find some air conditioning, or you're thinking about how this is the you know, last day of your vacation, and tomorrow you have to get on a plane and go home and go back to work, dwelling on all these thoughts that remove you from what you're experiencing directly from being in your body, in time and space, and this is what happens to us on a regular basis. The Grand Canyon is a really vivid example that shows what we miss out on when we're lost in thoughts. But there are so many other extremely ordinary experiences that we have that are actually quite wondrous, and we don't experience it as that because we're caught up in thoughts. For one, breathing, the simple act of breathing, inhalation, exhalation, and there's that little little space in between the two. It's incredible. We don't even have to think about it. We just do it. You
even a bead of sweat rolling down your neck, wondrous the feel of the floor as you walk on it, barefoot,
and even the little that little ache in your knee or in Your back that you might be feeling right now you
the sadness or anger that you feel when somebody says or does something that's hurtful, the dismay you feel when you learn learn the latest news you
Yes, all of it, the whole of it. Here's what Pema Chodron says about working with all these things that we don't like. She says, when these things arise, train gradually and very gently, without making it into a big deal, begin to get the hang of feeling what's underneath the storyline. Feel the wounded heart that's underneath the addiction, the self loathing or anger. If someone comes along and shoots an arrow into your heart, it's fruitless to stand there and yell at the person it would be much better to turn your attention to the fact that there's an arrow In your heart, and to relate to that wound you
you turn your attention to the fact that there's an arrow in your heart
and relate To that wound. So what she's saying is experience it experience that wound. See what's there. Our tendency is to fan the flames by dwelling in thoughts about it, judgments and. The things that hurt, and that's exactly how it becomes poisonous, toxic that we feel, physical pain, anger, distress, anxiety, grief,
that we have, These sensations, these feelings, is is not a problem.
We're not trying to bypass being human.
So when you're hit with that arrow, our practice is to notice it. You it, without rejecting it, and also without driving it in deeper and again, we do that by tacking on thoughts about it. So practice isn't about turning away from suffering. Just says it's not about turning away from joy. It's not about holding on to hope anymore then it's about holding on to hopelessness. I Jesus,
when all is seen with equal mind to our self nature, we return equal mind that's a line from affirming faith in mind.
So when it comes to hoping for a better future, it really begins with a better now, and a better now arises out of awareness, just pure awareness, without grasping for it to be different than it is, there's another passage I want to read. And this is, this one is from Charlotte Joko Beck, and it's from her book everyday Zen, which is a classic text. The chapter title is no hope. And she says that whereas hope is an idea, no hope is this very moment, as it is. And Jesus, she says, a life lived with no hope is a peaceful, joyous, compassionate life, as long as we identify with this mind and body and all and we all do, we all identify with this mind and body. We hope for things that we think will take care of them. We hope for success, we hope for health, we hope for enlightenment. We have all sorts of things. We hope for all. Hope, of course, is about sizing up the past and projecting it into the future. Anyone who sits for any length of time sees that there is no past and no future except in our mind, there is nothing but self. And self always is here present. It's not hidden. We're racing around like mad trying to find something called self, this wonderful, Hidden Self. Where is it hidden? We hope for something that's going to take care of this little self, because we don't realize that already we are self, there's nothing around us. That is not self what are we looking for?
How near the truth yet? How far we seek? I
so having hope isn't at all hopeless, and that's because it doesn't involve clinging to certain results.
It enables us to experience life with with clarity and to take skillful action and
not just thinking about suffering, but responding to it without poisoning it With our self interest, just doing what we can to help, to be of service, with no thought of separation and no exceptions. I
this is what it is to open to things as they are, which is also to say to Open to open up to change. Change. That will happen, whether we want it to or not, change that we are a part of
