This is July 28, 2024. And first I want to welcome the folks who participated in yesterday's workshop.
This teisho is going to be about Right Speech, which is one of the practices of the Noble Eightfold Path that the Buddha introduced in his first sermon. The other practices are Right View, Right Intention, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, and Right Concentration. And together, through our efforts to put them into practice, to activate them in our lives, they are the Way, the way to end suffering and the way to live in harmony with others.
And along with the Ten Cardinal Precepts, they provide us with a moral compass, which is to say that they point us in the direction of not causing harm to others, nor to ourselves.
So to start off, let's consider Right Speech. From the vantage point as it was probably understood during the Buddha's lifetime, the Buddha lived in a cultural moment when the written word was not common. In other words, it was an oral society. And that explains why the opening line to so many Buddhist texts is "Thus I have heard."
In an oral society, communication is based on immediacy. The spoken word can only be heard, if not firsthand, in the moment, then by others who memorized it and transmitted it to others. And of course, as information gets passed on, it kind of takes on a life of its own.
There's this classic listening game that shows the nature of an oral society. And when I was a college professor, I often used it as an icebreaker for the first class meeting. The way it works is there's a message, the starting message, and that's given, perhaps in writing, if necessary, to the first person. And then that person passes it on orally to the next, and then to the next, and the next, you know. And this can cycle through, you know, in a class, you know, 20 or more people.
And then when the last person receives it, they recite out loud the message that they received. And of course, it turns out to be radically and hilariously different than the first message that was sent out. And in oral societies, there are strategies to deal with this, you know, techniques for memory, storytelling being the primary one. Storytelling has a way of linking the sequence of events and linking ideas, so that the brain can recall it more readily.
In the book "What the Buddha Taught," Walpola Rahula outlines what was remembered and eventually written down in the sutras. And this is what he says about how the Buddha defined Right Speech.
"Right Speech means abstention, abstention from four things. One, from telling lies; two, from backbiting and slander and talk that may bring about hatred, enmity, disunity, and disharmony among individuals or groups of people." That covers a lot. "Three, from harsh, rude, impolite, malicious, and abusive language. And four, from idle, useless, and foolish babble, and gossip."
There's a lot of this kind of speech circulating in our society today. And we can readily see how it can manifest in the spoken word and how distracting and toxic it would be in the context of living in a monastic community, where people live, work, and sit together in close proximity. And this applies to practicing in a Sangha such as ours.
And yet what constitutes Right Speech, speech that doesn't cause harm, is not clear-cut at all. For example, sometimes lying is appropriate. There are situations where confidentiality and withholding information does the least amount of harm.
And there are situations and individuals where sometimes harsh and strong language is called for. It's really needed to get a point across.
And then sometimes idle chit-chat, babble, is appropriate, like just kind of absent-mindedly talking about the weather, or going on and on about a favorite Netflix program, or politics, you know, whatever's on people's minds. You know, idle chatter can actually be a way of forming social connection in some contexts (although maybe not talking about politics).
But there's no set of fixed rules, no code to follow when it comes to Right Speech that would contrast it with so-called wrong speech. So the word "right" shouldn't be taken as a moral commandment. If you say or do something wrong, it's not as if there is some, you know, Buddhist god that's going to send you straight to hell, or who's going to inform you that you're no longer eligible to practice.
Instead, it is through practice, through trying, that we learn. And there's a lot of room for growth. And that happens in the process of making mistakes and causing harm. We kind of fumble our way through it. And ultimately, Right Speech, along with all the other practices of the Eightfold Path, are just that, practices. Again, it's all in the trying.
Our speech has the potential to support mutual, nurturing relationships. And it also has the potential to advance self-interest, and so, division. And we won't always get it right, will we? There will be blunders; there will be awkward moments. At times, we may overreact, get defensive, self-protective. And we may cause harm to ourselves and others, harm to our relationships. And even when we have the best of intentions, even when we're trying to be mindful, skillful, kind, we may cause harm.
We're all on that path. We're all trying to find our way. And this is inevitable due to conditioning. As humans, we are conditioned to see ourselves as separate, to see self and other as two, divided, even in opposition.
But skillful and kind speech and action, that arises from awareness of not being two, of no separation. And that's why maintaining a daily practice of zazen is so critical. It's more important than going to sesshin in terms of bringing the practice into our lives, day by day, keeping it steady and consistent. When we sit regularly, we're far more likely to have a stabilized mind, a mind that's not burdened by passing mental and emotional states.
We're in a better position to be present and also to intuit what's needed, what's needed in the moment, this moment, what's most skillful, what needs to be said and how. So in Zen, morality is fluid, it's dynamic. It's not etched in stone. There's no line to be drawn between right and wrong. What's right in one situation may not be in another.
And it's true, there are times when taking a strong, firm stance is the most effective and most compassionate thing to do. Sometimes we have to say no. Or give a sharp-edge correction, set boundaries, lay down the law. And other times are gonna call for yielding, letting go, walking away, letting it slide, and then every other kind of response in between, the Middle Way.
This is a really important point about Right Speech. What kindness and compassionate action look like in practice is not necessarily what we imagine them to be. Often people think that compassion must outwardly look like showing empathy, forgiveness, graciousness, generosity, giving in. And yeah, it can involve all of those things. But compassion can also look fierce, can look like wielding a sword, seeing the True-nature of the person before you and holding them up to it, holding them accountable.
If we always yield to others, habitually yielding to their preferences, not wanting to cause a stir, trying to avoid conflict in a co-dependent kind of way, are we really helping them? Are we really seeing someone's True-nature if we go out of our way to accommodate their preferences, their self-interests?
You know, the tendency is to see conflict and disagreement as something to be avoided. And it's difficult. It's uncomfortable. It's a lot easier to walk away. But actually, if we head straight into it in a skillful way, the result is non-separation, closing the gap. So it can be a real selfless act of love to tell somebody that their behavior is misguided, it's harmful, and to urge them to make a course correction or to get help. So Right Speech, then, isn't about making people smile or feel good about themselves, or avoiding uncomfortable feelings, difficult conversations. It's really about authenticity, being authentic.
But how often are we inauthentic in our interactions and relationships with others. We want people to like us. We put time and mental energy into making a good impression. We want people to look up to us. We want to be in control of our image, what we're putting out to the world.
But to be authentic is to not be worried or constrained by what others may think or say about us, to just be present with what is, not how we want it to be. And this requires letting go of the pursuit of self-interest and the concern for appearances.
And so we can see that the practice of Right Speech, then, is really fundamental to being authentic and that it is through communication, through our interactions, that we conduct our lives. We're social beings. And within the context of our family, our work, all the different kinds of connections and relationships that we form and which shape our day-to-day lives, all the ways we engage in what's a very complex social world, how can we be more authentic?
And it is through practice, and that includes Right Intention and Right Effort and zazen. All the practices of the Eightfold Path work together. Through this we have the potential to use our speech and our listening (speech and listening go hand in hand) to let go of our habitual self-interest and create openings, openings in service to our True-nature, to our liberation and others' liberation.
A good example of a situation that can lead to creating an opening is what happens when you're in a conversation and there's a micro-aggression, whether it comes out of your mouth, another person's mouth, or if you're on the receiving end.
For those of you who don't know, micro-aggressions are subtle, ordinary, often unintentional expressions of prejudice, bias. So rather than, say, some latently sexist, racist, or homophobic remark, it's more like a casual, seemingly benign, comment or question. But it's informed by bias, unconscious bias. And for the person on the receiving end, it's the frequency and the repetitive exposure that causes the harm. It's like being told, over and over and over and over again, You're different. You're a minority. You don't belong here. You're "other."
And one of the more classic examples of micro-aggressions is the simple question, Where are you from? Funnily enough, that question and variations of it, Where do you come from? or Where have you been?, they also happen to be the opening line of many koans. The student has to decode what's really being asked. And sometimes it's, you know, Where are you from? Oh, I'm from Staten Island. How about you? So it's really quite literal, but not all the time. Sometimes it's something else altogether. Meaning is in people, not in the words themselves.
And in everyday interactions, this question, Where are you from? seems really quite natural, especially when you're meeting somebody new. It seems totally harmless. What's wrong with asking somebody, Hey, where are you from? Where'd you grow up? It can seem like information that helps you to get to know somebody, make a connection.
And yet depending on one's life experience, the meaning can be a lot more than that. Instead of making a connection, it results in separation. But it's not entirely clear or predictable. As I said, meaning is in people, not in words. So how it's received depends on the context, the who, what, when, and where.
That said, we do happen to live in a society with a long history of racial violence and white privilege. So then what might happen when a white person approaches an African American or a Latinx person whom they haven't met before and asks, Where are you from? Especially if it's being asked of the only person of color in the room. What then?
For the person on the receiving end, it can feel like you're only being seen as a skin color again and again and again. Again, it's the repetitiveness of it that causes the harm, not being seen as a person with a personality, interests, abilities, talents, just a skin color and a foreigner. The message is you can't possibly be from here, in other words, racialized.
And it doesn't matter that the harm that comes from it isn't intentional. What matters is the impact, the resulting separation that it causes, and it can really, really undermine a sense of trust and belonging.
So what's the corrective? Well, one is doing our best to educate ourselves about our unconscious bias and how it manifests in our speech and action. And we all have bias, each one of us is biased in one way or another, multiple ways. And that's just a product of social conditioning. Not one of us is excluded. So you don't have to beat yourself up about this.
Another thing we can do is to show some care and support when you witness it happen to a friend or a co-worker, a family member or a Sangha member. Take them aside, check in, see how they're doing. Of course, you can also touch base with the person who said whatever may have come across as offending and point it out to them, skillfully.
And if you're receiving the feedback yourself on something you said that was potentially hurtful, not getting defensive, being open to the feedback, saying thank you, recognizing that it's a product of conditioning, trying to do better next time.
But then what if you're on the receiving end? Then what? You know, there have been so many occasions in my life, especially when I was a teen, a college student, and later as a university professor, when I was confronted with sexist speech. Some of it was quite derogatory. And there were times when I spoke up right then and there, other times when I walked away, other times when I went to the person later on to talk to them about it. And then there were a couple of times when I reported it to a higher up.
When someone says something offending, it's so easy to latch on to it and simmer in anger and not resolve it. And that can have an accumulating effect over time when it's repetitive. And this isn't productive, nor is it healthy, and it fuels separation.
So here's what Dr. Roxy Manning says. She's a certified nonviolent communication trainer and clinical psychologist, and she offers a variety of online workshops and programs. And in the segment on her website about micro-aggressions, this is what she says if you're on the receiving end. "First, check in with yourself and decide if you have the energy and resources to let the person know what it was like to hear whatever was said. You can choose to speak up in the moment or walk away. Do what feels right and safe."
She says, "If you speak up, keep the focus on the impact and do not shift to focus on the other person's intention." In other words, try to create an opening for understanding and empathy, recognizing that there's a good chance that the other person doesn't actually have any ill will towards you.
And this is hard, right? Making a distinction between the words and how they landed and the intention, without resorting to a habitual kind of go-to reaction, putting up a wall, shifting into defense mode. It can seem like a tall order. And aside from feeling safe, what it requires is stability, calmness, clarity.
It also helps to learn and get some practice in nonviolent communication so when you're in such a situation, you have some tools available.
You know, over 2500 years ago, when the Buddha spoke of the practice of Right Speech, he didn't know a thing about micro-aggressions. The concept didn't exist. It was actually introduced in the 1970s. And only quite recently has it gained a lot of traction.
But what he did recognize was that speech has the potential to nurture and to cause harm. Here's what the Buddha said further about abstaining from speech that fuels separation. And this is as recounted by Rahula. "When one abstains from wrong and harmful speech, one naturally has to speak the truth, has to use words that are friendly and benevolent, pleasant and gentle, meaningful and useful."
And just to be clear, he's not talking about donning a fake smile or, you know, manufacturing pleasantness. What he's talking about is equanimity, a mind that's undisturbed.
And then he continues, "One should not speak carelessly. Speech should be at the right time and place. If one cannot say something useful, one should keep noble silence." Noble silence.
When I was a child, my parents would tell me, "If you don't have anything nice to say, keep your mouth shut," which, at the time, pretty much meant suck it up, bite your lip, hold it inside, silence is golden.
But when we do that, what often happens is that which we attempt to hold inside manages to work its way out in other ways, such as passive aggression, perhaps through sarcasm or the cold shoulder treatment. Or maybe the pot simmers long enough and it boils over.
Keeping a noble silence is altogether different from holding it in. Noble silence isn't about holding back. It's about letting go. That includes letting go of things that are painful. And it doesn't necessarily involve actually being silent, although it can.
Most of all, what noble silence is, is inner silence. And inner silence requires us to be attentive, to be present, one with the person we're with, one with things as they are. Even when it feels uncomfortable and unpleasant. Even in moments of conflict and turmoil.
Even in those moments, we can close the gap between self and other. And when we approach our interactions with inner silence, with a mind that is undisturbed (which is only made possible through zazen), when we do that, we can create openings, openings that allow us to see clearly, not through the filter of our feelings and our thoughts and our memories, our knee-jerk reactions. Just seeing things as they are.
Inner silence creates a space for us to see the True-nature that we equally share. No one's excluded, not even mean people.
I'll close with these simple words from Rumi. "Silence is the language of the heart."
"Silence is the language of the heart." We'll stop here and recite the Four Vows.
