I am here this evening from Los Angeles, as I see there are many young people here this evening, so to tell you something about myself, I entered the priesthood at the age of fourteen. I am compelled to speak this evening in such a way that a young person sitting in front of me could also understand my talk.

According to records, I was born on the first of April. (Roshi laughs) Do you understand? In Japan, it is not the general custom, like it is in America, to celebrate the actual date of birth. The reason, probably, why such celebrations are not held is because we realize that the person who is born is still living. As I reach back into my old memory, and my conversations with my mother, I remember her telling me it was either the eighteenth or the nineteenth of April. So I have become determined. So when anyone asks me when my birthday is, I usually answer that my birthday is between the first and the twenty-second of April. That is why I can, unlike other people, observe a three-week birthday.

So, at the age of fourteen, I entered the temple on the seventh of April and was actually accepted and celebrate my acceptance into the priesthood on the eighth of April. Of course, I was born into a family who were adherent to the Buddhist faith. Both my mother and my father were believers in Zen. Therefore, through such a connection is how I came to enter a Zen priesthood. Now, many young people will probably probe this point, when I talk about my entering the priesthood, they will probably ask me. Why? What compelled you into entering the priesthood?

My first aspiration, before anything else, since I was born as a human being, was to be a human being. As a child, during the evening hours, I used look up into the sky and see the stars shining, and wonder the why and the wherefore, regarding the shining of the stars. I am sure the young people here this evening can answer such questions and need no longer be puzzled by these matters. So, around the third year in primary school, I aspired to become an astronomer. When I was attending school, World War I erupted. I have just celebrated my sixty-third birthday, so those of you who are about my age will know what happened or what grade you were in when World War I broke out. This is a story that goes back more than half a century, so of course, the young people sitting here this evening will know nothing about such matters.

So, as the world, likewise Japan became more deeply enmeshed with the war. Gradually, my interest turned more towards the soldiering profession, I wanted to become a soldier. Around the sixth grade, I figured it may not be good to become a professional soldier, perhaps there was not all that there was to life, I figured that maybe there are other ways to live. And so my interest to become a professional soldier quickly diminished. During the sixth year in school, the book that we were required to read each day, there was a story that went something like this, “No matter how poor one is, if he could just curl up and place his arm under his head and go to sleep, this is worth more than having a great deal of wealth.” Do you understand what I am saying? So at that particular stage of my life, I began to ask a great deal of questions from my teacher and finally decided to give up any ideas of becoming a soldier and decided instead to become a priest. But there was another reason also why I gave up the idea of becoming a soldier. The reason, as you can see as I stand before you, I am very short of stature. And my legs are as short as cat’s paws. The length of my torso is not much different from the torso that the rest of you have. So as a child, my mother used to tell me that a short person like myself will never be able to become a soldier. That was another factor to discourage me from soldiering.

Now, as you know, Japan is made up of four major islands. In the north is Hokkaido, the main island is called Honshu, the island to the south is Kyushu, and in between Honshu and Kyushu is Shikoku. I decided at the time when I determined to become a priest, that I shall go very far from where I lived. So I crossed over to Hokkaido and went to a temple located in the city of Sapporo. I was born in Sendai, which is located on northern part of the main island of Honshu, between Tokyo and Aomori is Sendai. So the place where I first entered the priesthood was in Sapporo city on the island of Hokkaido, which is seven hundred miles from my home.

The following day that I arrived there, the Zen master had tea with us. There were three new priests that entered the temple, two other young priests of around my own age. There were two older priests around the age of twe four or twenty-five years of age who already lived there. We all sat in front of the Zen master, placed in front of us were some very interesting and delicious looking candies, Japanese sweets. Now, since the type of sweets before me were the type I have never seen before, I was wondering how the people were going to eat it, so I observed them very carefully. Now, after the sweets were served, tea was served. I watched the Zen master eat the sweets and drink the tea, and when I watched, I also noticed that he had eaten half of his sweets and that much of his tea. So I copied him. Now the two twenty-four-year-old young priests all gobbled their sweets and then had their tea. What is the true way? I did not know what to do, whether to follow the senior priests or to follow what the Zen master was doing. But I figured that they both had their points. So after the tea was served, the Zen master said, “Today we have some novice priests and I am going to ask them some questions.” I was very nervous, I had eaten my sweets and I had drank my tea, and next, from what the Zen master had said, he was going to ask me questions. So I did not really know what to do.

Now, since this was my first experience in staying at a temple and having been brought up in the countryside in Japan, my legs started to hurt sitting in front of the Zen master. I have never been trained to sit properly in the Zen style, so to speak, prior to this experience. So the pain in my legs were bothering me very much. The first question that he directed to the three of us was, “Please tell me the age of Buddha? In other words, tell me how old Buddha is.” This was such a fantastic question, I did not know how to answer. The sweets that I have eaten a few moments ago were somewhat stuck in the region of my stomach. Now he looked at the three of us and said, “The one who arrived first, please answer the question.” One of the older priests, who was about twenty-one or twenty-two years of age, pointed to the three of us and directed us to answer the question. The first one answered, something to the effect that Buddha was 2500 years old, or something to that effect. So Zen master said, “Mmm, you have studied a great deal.” So the older priest pointed to the next fellow and said, “Next, you answer the question.”

Knowing that I was going to be the next to be asked this question, I was getting very nervous and probably on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Because I was so nervous at the time, it’s very difficult for me to recall what the second young fellow answered. The only thing that I remember is that the young priest sitting next to me was one year older than myself. But later on, when we became friends in the temple and we had some very interesting fights, I was always stronger than he. When we had wrestling matches in the temple yard, although this young priest was one year older than myself, I was shorter, stockier, and stronger, so I always beat him. The point here is that no matter how small one is, if one is strong, one is strong.

Children are sometimes stronger than adults, so you may be proud of your strength. So then the young priest next to me answered the question. I don’t recollect exactly what he said, but he probably said something to the effect that Buddha was eternal. Probably the Zen master also praised this boy. So then the twenty-two-year-old priest glared at me and said, “Next, you answer the question.” I glared back at him and said, “The age of Buddha is the same as my age.” When the Roshi heard my answer, he looked at the young priest and said, “This boy who came here yesterday may sit in zazen (zazen means to sit in meditation), from tomorrow on.” That was quite a wonderful thing.

Now, the temple that I went to Hokkaido, there were no magnificent buildings on the site, it was a very small, frugal building, like the type of building that I was living in when I first came to live in America years ago. My father and also my brother felt that it was better for me to go to a temple which was not resplendent with beautiful architecture, or to a rich temple, but to be assigned to a very poor, poverty-stricken temple. So the only friends that I had at that time were the two priests who entered at the same time as myself. Now, traditionally, at this new temple, the last person who came to the temple was assigned the task of cooking the rice. Now, as I explained earlier, there were the Zen master, the two young priests, and the three of us, the total of six persons. Now, when I mention the word cooking, you probably think of just putting the switch on or pouring hot water onto some instant breakfast and preparing some instant food. But that is not the case in my particular situation. I had to wash the rice, cut and wash the vegetables. I also had to start the fire by going out and find the kindling and so forth. Anyhow, it was quite a task. So the type of cooking that was entailed at this particular time is the type that you usually pursue on your camping trips. Going out, getting some newspapers and dry twigs to start the fire, then putting a pot on top of that for cooking. So you can imagine that there is quite a bit of work involved. When you talk about water, all you have to do is to turn the faucet, and the water comes pouring out, but we had to draw the water from the well in a bucket and then carry it to the temple.

America seems such a convenient and advanced country when we think about things like this. So I want to tell all you young people, don’t complain. Since there are schedules to follow in the temple, such as the reading and chanting of the sutras, sitting in meditation, and so forth, I had to hurry the process of cooking. Many times in this rush, I would get soot all over my face. Often, after chanting the sutras, the Zen master would come out and see my dirty face. He would exclaim in surprise and say, “Look at your face!” and make comments of this type. Then, after the meal was over, I would have to do the cleanup work and join the other people of the staff in zazen. I had to get up around 3 o’clock in the morning. What time do you people get up? Now, after the zazen, after the sitting, I had to approach the Zen master, and he would give me a problem which I had to solve. This process of approaching the Roshi, receiving a question, and answering him is what we call sanzen.

Now, the question that he gives us to solve or to answer, the question itself is referred to in Japanese as koan. Now, the reason we call this question as a koan and not refer to it as a question is because it is the answer which will solve the problem of ourselves. So if that question, that problem that is presented to us, does not solve the problem of oneself, then it is not a koan, but suddenly it becomes a problem. Now, all of you are faced with a problem every day of your life. You have the problem, for instance, of one day. For those who are studying mathematics, you have the problems you must solve by mathematical equations. Now, in arithmetic, when the teacher gives you a problem and you are able to solve the problem, at that particular stage, you pat yourself and feel very good. Suddenly, that problem is no longer a problem. Now, from what I have told you, the koan serves to point out to us that we have two conscious mechanisms within ourselves. One is the problem itself; when we are plagued with the problem, we try to solve the problem; we have this kind of thing within ourselves, our brain functions in this manner. Then the other function is after the problem is solved, and is no longer a problem. The moment when you have solved the problem, when the problem is no longer a problem and you are smiling to yourself and feeling exhilarated, then we can say, to put it in another way and say, that is the mechanism of your God, of your Buddha. So that original problem is no longer a problem, you have reached a point of feeling secure with yourself, and the problem no longer plagues you. In other words, the function of your brain functions this way. So even though we have problems, when those problems become no longer problems, we are no longer tied to them, we are no longer bound to them. So we become free. I am sure all of you, who are here tonight, have experiences of this type.

Now, when the rains come down, we fear so much that Claremont will drift away some place. Then we really worry, and suddenly our conscious mechanism is attached, bound to the rain. So in the summertime, when it was a hot day, but the rains came, and so the cool rain hits your face and you think, “Ahh, what a good feeling.” Then the phenomena is different, on one side we fear, we become bound to, attached to rain. The other side is, the rain itself is still rain, but it makes us feel good. We are not bound to the rain. So, as I have explained earlier, within our consciousness mechanism, within this framework, there are two different activities taking place.

So, when you are no longer bound to your problems, when you have no longer this type of attachment to your problems, that you become free. This we call the basic consciousness. So when the other conscious mechanism is in operation, when we worry about the rain, we worry about the debts, we worry about the driving, all these things that we become bound to, we become attached to, and it controls us. This type of mechanism we call fumbetsu iski, or the consciousness of separation, or the human consciousness. The other one is compon iski or basis consciousness, or the consciousness of the Buddha. So this young lady, sitting here in front of us, she also has these two conscious mechanisms. One is her Buddha or her God, and the other is the mechanism of the human being. Now I would like to mention to you that this is one way of viewing the problem, and it is a type of thinking. So the following day, after two days of entering the temple, and was given the permission by the Zen master to participate in the sanzen; the koan he gave me was, “When were you born?”

If I really knew when my birth date was, I would not have had too much of a problem, since I was born and was existing as a human being. In other words, I had to become enlightened of the fact that if I knew the date of my birth, then I would be cognizant of the fact I am truly existing as a human being. So I had to become enlightened regarding this matter. I thought perhaps the Zen master knows that I was born on April first, yet he is asking me this type of a question. What a mean person he is! So for a long while, I pondered this in my mind, “When was I born?” I was thinking about this while I was washing the rice, starting the fire, and going after the water.

The actual temple site where I was staying in Hokkaido encompassed a piece of land about two acres, and there were many apple trees growing on it. There were about forty or fifty trees growing, but the trees were forty or fifty years old, and some were sick. They had some kind of a disease that spread among the trees, and they were ready to wilt away. It seems that as we grow older, we become more prone to illness. So as soon as a tree wilted away and died, we went and cut the tree down and used it for kindling wood. So in the morning, to start the fire, we would get dried newspaper, grass, and get a match and light it, and blow on it, and place more twigs on the fire. Now, when I thought about this, it was quiet joy at that young age to be given the responsibility to take care of the hunger of these six people at the temple. Starting the fire, going for water, and to participate in the actual cooking was quite joyful for me. So I beseech you, young folks, please participate in such activities. Now, when we came here this evening, I noticed two young fellows cutting the grass outside. I am sure they were cutting the grass and making the place very nice and presentable, and hospitable for all of you. It was a very good feeling, and I am sure they enjoyed themselves.

Now I tell you young people that as you walk around the street and you find little stones and pebbles on the side of the street, you should pick it up and place it to the side of the road so that when the cars come by the wheels won’t catch the stones, which then would go flying and maybe hit you on the head. In order to avoid such an incident, you would feel much better if you just pick up the stones and take it off the roadway. The problems that you pursue voluntarily will eventually solve the problems of yourself. It is the same as being given a koan. Not all koans are such that are given to you by the Zen master. There are other koans where you go out and confront it. You will find that facing the problem that confronts you also solves your own problem, such can also be called a koan.

I am sure that all of you here today are facing the problem of facing today. At the end of that day, you have solved the problem of that day, and you are able to sleep peacefully. So you can say that the Zen master has given you a problem every day, and you sit in contemplation or meditation, and you solve your problem. It is not necessary for you to wait for the Zen master, the Roshi, to give you a problem, but go out and seek it, face it, and solve it. This is the same as the experience in Zen practice. So, just because you sit in what is called the Zen pose in meditation and your legs bother you and pain you, and you sit for fifteen or twenty minutes, this by itself is not Zen training; this is only one small segment of Zen practice. In itself, it is not Zen. So when I thought to myself in the morning, when I lit the match to cook the meal to satisfy the hunger of the people in the temple, even if I had soot on my face, it did not matter. When I thought about it that way, that this one stick of match is the center of life of six people in this temple.

One day, in the process of lighting the fire for cooking, the newspaper was wet, and I had a difficult time starting the fire. So I went and found some dry newspapers, and then I noticed that the grass that I usually used was also wet. Now, what could I do in such a situation? The only thing that I could do was to go and find some dry grass. So I went out and got a dry branch, and I broke the branch, and as I heard that sound, that crack of that branch, I felt at that moment that this is the center of it all.

So for a couple of weeks, when I had an audience with the Zen master, I brought to him my answers to the problem that he had given me. But each day he would say, “That is no good, no good”. So at that moment in the early morning, when I broke the branch and heard that crack, that sound, I felt, even as a young lad, that everything has some age. Some more and some less. The sound of two hands clapping (Roshi claps) the sound that you have just heard, is, after all, the center of this universe. I have been able to capture you in this sound, at this moment. So again, when I had the audience with the Zen master and I tried to give him my answer to the problem, that the date of my birth formulates the center of the universe. So he said, “Oh, you are a very smart boy, but to get that type of an answer, all you have to do is to study some more and go to a university.”

For days and days after, I was quite disappointed and just carried on with the cooking rituals. I think it was about some time in May, and Hokkaido is way up north, it started to rain sleet early in the morning. This one morning, after breakfast, when I was washing the dishes, I opened the door and looked out. I noticed that it was sleeting and it was very cold. Now you are all born together with everything in this world. On rainy days, you are born together with the rain; when you see the cat running, you are born together with the cat running. Isn’t it interesting? So when I went to him and gave him my answer, that I was born together with everything, he was somewhat satisfied, as I recollect very well. So here we are born together with everything and function together with everything, and move together with everything. In other words, we are always together with our Buddha or our God. Since we are always with our God, we have never been separated from our God, or we can use the word Buddha, whatever word you prefer, we are always realizing our Buddha, our God. We do not know really what we are, but for the sake of convenience, for living, we recognize ourselves and recognize others. Although we do not know what we are, who we really are, but we are always realizing ourselves as God or Buddha, and we are manifesting ourselves thusly.

The word Zen we can define different ways, but we can say Zen equals God, or Zen equals Buddha. Therefore, to study Zen is to study Buddha, and really it is to study oneself. So the great Zen patriarchs always said, “To understand oneself is to realize our Buddha.” When we manifest ourselves as a Buddha or as a God, we have already solved the problem, so we are in a state where we can laugh and smile from inside ourselves. (Roshi laughs) So if a God came around and says, “Thou shall not smile!” then you can say, “I am sorry I have already smiled, you have come too late.” The realization of oneself cannot be even bound by God or Buddha. So the condition under which we exist, where the God or the Buddha are oneself, is not tied to oneself. It is a condition which exists as a basic, or a compon iski. It is the activity of the basic realization. So the function, or the movement, or the activity of this basic realization, is compon iski is the activity of God or Buddha. So when we achieve this state of this compon iski we are no longer functioning as ourselves. (It is a little difficult at this particular point.)

Let us say it this way: a mountain is functioning as this basic realization of Buddha; likewise, it is with the valley, the ocean. In other words, the mountain, the river, the cat, and myself we are all equals. So, in Zen thinking, when we use the word love or compassion, it is the function of this basic consciousness, or compon iski. So if the mountain, the river, you and myself, the rich and the poor, all function equally, and it is all the same, and if the men and the women are all the same, this is quite a problem! We will no longer have a society to exist in! But at the basis of this consciousness, the function of it, everything is equal. The truth is shining there!

So I say, when we think how the society should be, how the society should function, leave that to the philosophers. Also, how human beings should be, what situations they should be in, this type of thinking also falls in the realm of philosophy. Then you may ask me, “Is Zen philosophy?” Of course it is not, nor is it an academic or scholastic subject. An academic subject is formulated or has its substance when a question is asked or a problem is presented, and you solve that problem, and there it is, that is all there is to it. The answers to Zen problems are answers that solve the problem of yourself. So it is not in the same breed as when you go to school and your teachers present problems to you. It is quite different from the type of subjects that you learn in school. At the basis is the idea that I have already been saved by my Buddha, by my God, and I am manifesting myself as my Buddha as my God.

Now the problem is this: it is true that we have been born as Buddha or as God? We are already saved, and we have been born that way. But what is it when we separate ourselves from others that we have unequal problems, that men and women have different types of problems? What is that? So we wonder about ourselves about others, and we must experience the experiences of ourselves; we must become enlightened to that fact. We must experience the fact that in the human world, here are separations, there are inequalities, there are problems where we separate one from another. Ourselves from another. There is the world of men and the world of women, and this is why we have a world, why we have a society. We have ourselves and others, and this is how we sustain society. Because we have such separations, this is how the world functions. So we must get to the basic understanding of that! How it functions, and to be able to experience those experiences! This is at the basis of Zen, or other words, Buddhism!

All the ailments of this world, of confrontations caused by war and so forth, are basically caused because the people involved are not really cognizant of the whole principle of separation and the principle of equality. As civilization advances, as science progresses, as we progress, we know that there must be a religion in this world that will point out to us, and really strongly let us experience, the experience of truly grasping the meaning of equality and the meaning of separation.

In that case, the next question is, what experiences must we experience in order to be able to truly experience this principle of equality and separation? You have all sat here very quietly for a very long time this evening, and I noticed a few tired faces. So I will end my talk at this point this evening and, with good luck and good fortune, be able to see you again. I hope to be able to continue the talk on the principle of what I have just outlined towards the end. I have originally anticipated talking to you this evening about how the old Zen patriarchs, what kind of an experience did they experience, in order to truly grasp the principle of equality. I was going to add this on, but because we are limited in time, I would like to end my talk at this time. Thank you very much for your attention. OK!