The penultimate event of the practice period, coming before the closing ceremony, was called shosan. Shosan was a question-and-answer ceremony between students and teacher. Students were lining up to ask a question. Shunryu Suzuki sat on his zafu in the zendo decked in fancy robes, a carved staff in his hand. He spoke.
“According to the teaching of Dogen Zenji, the main point of practice is to listen to your teacher and to practice zazen. You have practiced zazen and studied the Prajna Paramita Sutra. If someone asks me: What is Prajna Paramita? I will answer—practice of zazen. If someone asks: What is the practice of zazen? I will answer: To open Buddha’s eating bowl and to take a bath in the evening. If someone understands what I said right now, come and express your way to me in the form of question and answer.”
Richard [Baker] walked forward, hands in gassho, and called out, “Docho Roshi!” (Docho meant the abbot.)
Suzuki responded, “Hai!”
Richard dropped to his knees while remaining upright and spoke: “For the big mind, the bridge flows. If everything has such independence, how can we find our own responsibility?”
Suzuki responded: “Your responsibility is under your own feet.”
Richard stood, bowed, and said: “Thank you very much.”
My gaze was down when the next, “Docho Roshi,” came much softer than before and then, after Suzuki’s “Hai!” a shriek of “Eeeeeeeeeee!” startled me. Oh. It was Bill Kwong, who’d come from his Mill Valley zendo to join the sesshin.
Suzuki responded: “What is that?” He paused. “What is that is the question and at the same time the answer. That is what.”
Bill Kwong bowed and said: “Thank you very much.”
Linda Burkett was next. She asked: “How should we practice negation?”
Suzuki answered: “Negation means liberation. Negation after negation you attain, step by step, liberation.”
“I am deeply grateful,” she said and returned to her seat.
Tim Burkett said: “Using the mantra you gave me, I broke through one dam of spiritual tension. Should I continue using this mantra to break further dams?”
Suzuki answered: “As long as you are devoted single-heartedly to your attainment, you can use that mantra. You cannot use it for another purpose.”
Kathy Cook asked: “Why is it necessary to have some kind of unusual experience in order to practice Buddhism?”
Suzuki answered: “To open up your mind wider and wider.”
“The true way at first looks like some morality, or something which was forced on you. This is quite usual, but it will not be so forever.”
Mike Dixon asked: “What is the difference between sesshin and everyday life?”
Suzuki answered: “Of course sesshin is everyday life. Everyday life is sesshin. Those are different expressions of our practice. Form is emptiness and emptiness is form.”
Peter Schneider said: “Docho Roshi, do you have some question?”
Suzuki answered: “Yes, I have a question. Why are you so serious?”
The room was quiet and then Peter laughed and then everyone laughed. Suzuki said: “If you start to laugh, that is all right.”
Peter said: “I am deeply grateful.”
Silas asked: “Docho Roshi, on the mountain-top, what about desire?”
Suzuki answered: “On the mountain-top, where you can see everything, there should be no desire, but there is.”
Silas asked: “How coming down?”
Suzuki answered: “Coming down will be your desire. You cannot, you should not, stay on top of mountain. That is not fair. So, to come down is the most important practice, actually. That so-called form is emptiness and emptiness is form. Up and down, back and forth, as you are every week coming to Tassajara and going back to San Francisco. Back and forth, while you are doing your way, your practice will be matured enough.”
Marian Derby said: “Great stress seems to have been made on sitting quietly, and yet Buddha gave up asceticism. I can’t reconcile the two, because there is so much pain in sitting quietly.”
Suzuki answered: “Just to sit in a squatting position is not zazen. Zazen practice is supposed to be the easiest way to practice and to understand our way. So you should practice it when you really want to, but for a while until your real way-seeking mind arises, zazen practice will be forced on you. The true way at first looks like some morality, or something which was forced on you. This is quite usual, but it will not be so forever.”
Ed Brown said: “I don’t understand what I have done.”
Suzuki answered: “Why is it necessary to understand what you are doing? Buddha knows. At least I know, and people know. When you bow in the zendo, when the food is ready, everyone knows. So find out what you are doing moment after moment. When you bow to me, when you hear the bubbling sound of the rice. There you will find yourself. That is to call your name, to address yourself.”
Ruthie Disco said: “What do you ask a sweet potato?”
Suzuki said: “A sweet potato? Many questions. May I eat you? Many many questions.”
I asked a question. He answered. I appreciated what he said so much at the time, but afterwards, I couldn’t remember what was said between us.
When the last question was asked and Suzuki had given his response, he sat on his zafu looking out at all of us assembled and he spoke: “As I said this afternoon in my lecture, the second master of my temple in Japan was studying Zuigan’s addressing his own name for six years. ‘Zuigan. Hai! Zuigan. Hai!’ But it was not enough. After he found out that the truth of addressing himself is addressing his Buddha nature, the true practice started in my temple. Sometimes there were many students, sometimes few students, but that practice incessantly continues. This practice will continue forever and pervade the whole world, the whole universe, because this is the truth of how everything exists in each world without any contradiction or disturbance existing at the same time in the same way. As I believe in this truth, I am here now in Tassajara practicing our way with you. This is not Japanese way or American way or Japanese way and American way. I don’t mind which is which. May we continue this practice without any misunderstanding forever with all sentient beings.
“And on this occasion especially to Maezumi Sensei, Chino Sensei, Phillip Katsuzen, and especially Richard Baker who is in the position of Shuso—with all their effort which has helped our practice—this is my gratitude indeed. I am very much grateful for their effort and the effort of all the students who joined our practice and encouraged our project at Tassajara. This is the most wonderful event which we have had and which you had first in America. I am very grateful for your effort. Thank you very much.”
Excerpted from Tassajara Stories: A Sort of Memoir/Oral History of the First Zen Buddhist Monastery in the West—The First Year, 1967, by David Chadwick, with permission from Monkfish Book Publishing Company, Rhinebeck, NY.