Now it is raining, but we don’t know what will happen in the next moment. By the time we go out it may be a beautiful day, or a stormy day. Since we don’t know, let’s appreciate the sound of the rain now.
The cause of conflict is some fixed idea or one-sided idea. When everyone knows the value of pure practice, we will have little conflict in our world.
In the thinking realm there is a difference between oneness and variety; but in actual experience, variety and unity are the same.
I think that is what you do. Instead of working with the problems you have, you cause yourself more problems by seeking for something else. But there is no need to seek for anything. You have plenty of problems, just enough.
Even though it is midnight, dawn is here; even though dawn comes, it is nighttime.
For Zen students the most important thing is not to be dualistic. Our “original mind” includes everything within itself. It is always rich and sufficient within itself. You should not lose your self-sufficient state of mind. This does not mean a closed mind, but actually an empty mind and a ready mind. If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything; it is open to everything. In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities; in the expert’s mind there are few.
Which is more important: to attain enlightenment, or to attain enlightenment before you attain enlightenment; to make a million dollars, or to enjoy your life in your effort, little by little, even though it is impossible to make that million; to be successful, or to find some meaning in your effort to be successful? If you do not know the answer, you will not even be able to practice zazen; if you do know, you will have found the true treasure of life.
It is necessary to remember what we have done, but we should not become attached to what we have done in some special sense.
If you receive things just as an echo of yourself, you do not really see them, you do not fully accept them as they are.
When we hear the sound of the pine trees on a windy day, perhaps the wind is just blowing, and the pine tree is just standing in the wind. That is all they are doing. But the people who listen to the wind in the tree will write a poem, or will feel something unusual. That is, I think, the way everything is.
When you do something, just to do it should be your purpose.
It is the readiness of the mind that is wisdom.
Our mind should be soft and and open enough to understand things as they are. When our thinking is soft, it is called imperturbable thinking. This kind of thinking is always stable. It is called mindfulness.
After the wand stops I see a flower falling. Because of the singing bird I find the mountain calmness.
As long as you have rules, you have a chance for freedom. To try to obtain freedom without being aware of the rules means nothing.
If you are ready to accept things as they are, you will receive them as old friends, even though you appreciate them with new feeling.
You must force yourself to be patient, but in constancy there is no particular effort involved – there is only the unchanging ability to accept things as they are. For people who have no idea of emptiness, this ability may appear to be patience, but patience can actually be non-acceptance.
After you have practiced for a while, you will realize that it is not possible to make rapid, extraordinary progress. Even though you try very hard, the progress you make is always little by little. It is not like going out in a shower in which you know when you get wet. In a fog, you do not know you are getting wet, but as you keep walking you get wet little by little.
We say concentration, but to concentrate your mind on something is not the true purpose of Zen. The true purpose is to see thing as they are, to observe things as they are, and to let everything go as it goes. This is to put everything under control in its widest sense.
What we call “I” is just a swinging door which moves when we inhale and when we exhale. It just moves; that is all. When your mind is pure and calm enough to follow this movement, there is nothing: no “I,” no world, no mind nor body; just a swinging door.
Those who find great difficulties in practicing Zen will find more meaning in it.