This is the second of three Dharma offerings in the series Scriptures, Sutras, Invocations –  Chanted, Spoken, Unspoken by Reverend Helen Cummings, a Senior Teacher of Buddhism at Shasta Abbey Buddhist Monastery. The text version of the teaching is below.

Link to Audio

Talk 2: Sung Scriptures, Litanes, Invocations and Our Practice

For centuries the monks of a Benedictine monastery in France had chanted the Divine Office 8 times every day, even getting up at 3am to sing the Night Offices. Some members of the monastic community decided that this amount of singing was a waste of time so at a certain point in the 1960s they decided to give up their chanting.  They’d been tired all the time, and thought it was because of lack of sleep as they got up for the Night Offices.  The monks started to sleep through the night, yes, but the more they slept, the more tired they became.  There was also a significant increase in bickering among the monks.  They became listless and fatigued. Even when their schedule was further altered to allow more sleep, they were constantly weary.  A change in diet was implemented but the monks’ health did not improve.

Then Dr. Alfred Tomatis, a noted voice and hearing specialist, visited the monastery.   He found 70 out of 90 monks were bedridden or in their cells, completely exhausted, incapable of completing their religious duties.  After investigating,  Dr. Tomatis suggested to the Abbot of the monastery – quite counterintuitively – that the monks start singing the offices again.
And in fact, in just a few months, the monastery came back to life.  Of those 70 weakened or debilitated monks, 68 got back their energy for singing, for thinking, for living their monastic vocation.  When the monks resumed singing, harmony in their day-to-day relations was restored as well.

Dr. Tomatis concludes:  “Clearly singing is important.  It energizes the singer as well as the listener…we can never sing too much, any more than we can listen to music too often.
It is critical, however, to clarify which kind of music and singing nurtures us.”

Singing matters.  And  sacred music makes a significant difference in religious practice.  Rev. Master Jiyu knew this.  In this talk I hope to address some of the ways her legacy of chanting supports us in our practice.

Rev. Master Jiyu knew what the ancestors and traditions that go all the way back to the Buddha knew:  that music unlocks the scriptures and teaching in ways that the intellect can not.  It opens our hearts in ways that will alone does not.

So, she set ten major Buddhist scriptures, twelve major litanies, numerous offertories, mantras, dedications, and the Homages to music.  She created nearly 70 invocations that we sing throughout our liturgical year. She also laid the foundation for us to continue to create new invocations, mantras, and processionals, either setting scriptures and text to the hymn tunes of past
and the present or writing our own music . She left the cultural aspects of practice in Japan, and she brought the heart of Zen to us in the West. In literally translating the Scriptures, and in creating the ceremonial forms for their use, she understood clearly that Western chants and hymn tunes ARE the religious music of the West and would allow much greater access to the teaching.  We don’t chant in Japanese.  We don’t chant in the Japanese style of percussive monotone.
In doing this she did what Buddhism says you do:  put the Scriptures –  invocations and all forms of teaching – in a language that people can understand, although there is a tradition to keep mantras in Sanskrit.  In the Buddha’s time monks were not allowed to chant the Buddhist Dharma in classical Sanskrit.  There is the story about the two monks, former Brahmins, very well-educated who complained to the Buddha that people were using bad grammar when they chant Sanskrit.  The Buddha said NO to
their request to have people chant in “proper” Sanskrit.  He said the Dharma had to be taught in the language of those to whom it is being taught.

And so we sing in English.   And we sing using the resonances of western sacred music.  Rev. Master Jiyu chose plainsong and Anglican chants because they provide the means of supporting sacred text without getting in the way of the words.  In putting words and music together, she used plainsong – with its single line of melody – for offertories, dedications, and some hymns; she used  Anglican chant – with its lovely 4-part harmonies -for Scriptures, and litanies. And she drew on the wealth of the Christian hymnbooks and her own creativity to find both musical and textual vessels for Buddhist hymns that express gratitude, praise, invocation, or tell a story.  She drew on the tradition that sings the names of the Buddhas, or the Bodhisattvas, or the Ancestors.  And she did this with |a broad ecumenical spirit drawing from Catholic, Methodists, Russian Orthodox and the Church of England traditions.

Buddhism originally developed within an oral culture, and as an oral tradition.  Music in the Northern Indian culture where the Buddha lived was highly developed, both for secular ceremonial use and for religious purposes.  Chanting was a means of memorizing religious texts.  From the time of the Buddha, and before, religious practitioners chanted to remember what is important and to pass it along the those that would come after.  In chanting we can remember what is important and “have it” when we need it.

Whether chanting the name of Buddha, or repeating a particular mantra, or singing an extended scripture like The Surangama Sutra, monks and laity alike are invited to “…read, recite, write down, remember…”  We do these things in order to become what is read, recited, written down, remembered.  Thus chanting has both a transformative
purpose and a transformative effect!

When we chant, our faith grows.  When we chant, we open our hearts and minds to that which is larger than ourselves.  Rev. Master Jiyu said, “…chanting is portable meditation.”  She knew that when we chant we go beyond our discriminative thoughts.  When we chant we’re less likely to judge, to assess, or to expect.  Rev. Master Jiyu was clear:  “…singing and chanting are taking meditation from the cushion and into the ceremony hall…” or to another form of our “moving meditation” in the Ceremony
of Daily Life.  She explained our monastic schedule this way:  first we sit and meditate in the Meditation Hall.  Immediately following that we have Morning Service – with bows and breath.  The bows open us to that which is larger than ourselves.  The breath brings body and mind together.  Bringing the mind back to our breath is our ceaseless practice.  Vocal sound is audible breath, and in the sounds of chanting we begin and end with the breath.  We breathe deeply, for we need robust columns of vibrating air to support our chant.  But we also breathe deeply in chanting because this breath is itself rooted in the hara, our sitting place.  The Sufi poet, Kabir, asks a telling question:  “Tell me, what is God?   He is the breath inside the breath.”

As in all things in Buddhism, it’s the attitude of mind that is the heart of any chanting, singing or ceremony.  When we chant we ARE NOT performing.  Whatever the form -single note chanting or singing an organ-accompanied four-part harmony invocation –  the form itself always embodies of the mind of meditation.  The monks at Eiheiji, describing their chanting, noted that  “…(the chants) are not meant to hypnotize participants into apathy.  The mind should become quite clear, receptive, so that it may know what is beyond concepts and beneath activities.  In this experiencemind and body must both participate.”
Chanting is a means of “cooling down our active mind” as Barisheba describes in the Shobogenzo chapter “Ceaseless Practice”.  The mind gives way to the breath.  And the breath deepens.

Body and mind ARE one as Dogen says and chanting enhances that mind-body connection. Chant has real impact on our physical well being as the Benedictine monks earlier found out.  It has the ability to impact consciousness.  Chanting supports insight as the mind relaxes its grip.  It opens our hearts and lifts our spirits.  Webster’s Dictionary says that “healing is to make sound”.  I love the double meanings here!

Chanting creates sacred space.  Someone said that our voice is a cathedral!  When we sing, we listen, both to ourselves and to others.  I am reminded of one form of the
Homages that says

I take refuge in the Sangha, wishing that all sentient beings
shall be able to live in harmony,
as well as harmonized the general multitude,
without any obstruction whatsoever,
and that all shall respect the sacred Sangha.

Chanting also allows for what Ajahn Amaro, in his book Inner Listening  calls “the sound of silence” or “the nada sound”.  I find it interesting that Nada is the Sanskrit word for “sound” as well as being the Spanish word  for “nothing”.  Music without rests or pauses simply becomes noise.

And at the same time chanting embraces activity and engagement.  We sing with the paramita of Vigor.  Conversely, we can use singing to strengthen Vigor within ourselves when we feel we’re lacking it!  We sing not only with the mind of meditation but with the body of meditation.  We engage with the music, AND we engage with the surrounding Sangha – the “choir of daily life”.  I’ll never forget the moment on the day after I’d entered the monastic community as a postulant when I stood with the community – in the midst of monks – for the first time for Morning Service.  The chanting was an altogether different experience, a far cry from “sitting on the sidelines”.  I was present in the sound.  I participated in each breath in a very different way.  That experience affirmed my intention “…to be able to live in harmony.”

When we chant, we change our relationship to the scriptures or litanies that we sing.  We experience the words of an invocation in a different way when we sing them.  Our thinking process shifts as we breathe the musical line of the scriptures.  Our breathing changes – deepens – as we repeat a mantra over and over again.

The word mantra originally meant sacred sounds that communicate through vibration to inspire and open the heart rather than the mind.  Sacred sounds, Buddhist “music” indeed does that very thing. Our fundamental practice is the harmonization of body and mind. This might be said to be one “goal” of the practice of chanting.  Indeed, those of you who know the Benedictine tradition will recognize this as being quite in line with St. Benedict’s Rule that says “…let us sing in such a way that our minds are in harmony with our voices.”

Kusala Bhikkhu, a long-time friend of the Abbey says that “…Zen pretty much comes down to three things: everything changes, everything is connected, and pay attention. “ I’d like to make the case that chanting seems to lead us to the same conclusion.  Music is constantly moving; it’s inherently connective; and requires breath-by-breath attention.  Even the “rests” in our singing are energized.

So the practice of chanting provides a significant support of our meditation practice.  How would I compare meditation and chanting?   One definition of chant is “sung speech”, as I’ve said before.  But may I suggest that chant is also “audible meditation”.  In meditation and chanting, breath is deeply significant.  In both we have the opportunity to let go of “mistakes” or judgments. Both meditation and chanting reinforce our connection with
others when we sit or when we sing together. Both engage the whole body – sitting up straight – or standing or lying down, with feet firmly on the ground, breathing deeply and from the hara.  Both chanting and meditating are offerings, neither is a performance.  Both are done “without strings”.  As Rev. Master Jiyu says in Music Is Zen, both music and singing teach us there are no mistakes, only opportunities to learn and to do what needs to be done.

Chanting is often a means of preparing the mind for meditation, as well as for carrying that mediation practice into the rest of our daily lives.  Whether a lay person or a monk, chanting allows us to bring to mind the teachings of the Buddha or to offer praise or to reflect on and remember aspects of the teaching or of the Bodhisattvas.  Chanting is a means of expressing gratitude. It is a means both of being present AND of actively participating in the mind of meditation.

Chant is a way to get a community to breathe together.  No wonder those Benedictines saw a decrease in bickering once they started singing again.  St. Benedict said you can tell much about a community by the way it sings.  Think of the “chants of identity” at a baseball game – an energized crowd is often considered to be “the Tenth Man” for the home team.   Think about the “chants of protest” that have become all too frequent at recent Black Lives Matter marches.

To paraphrase Rev. Master Daishin Morgan in his article The Role of Ceremonies:  “As scriptures are sung or recited, one cannot ponder the meaning in the way one can when reflecting on them with the intellect…We do not necessarily come away from (chanting) having learned something.  One lets go of being an observer and becomes a total participant.  This is what chanting teaches us in support of our practice – to let go of being an observer, to become a total participant.

Rev. Master Daishin Morgan also notes that “No ceremony (or chanting! my paraphrase) is necessary and no one’s enlightenment depends upon a ceremony (or chanting!  my paraphrase), but as we go deeper in training there is less and less distinction between ceremonies (or chanting! my paraphrase) and any other aspect of life.  Ceremonies (or chanting! my paraphrase) may start out as a form that points to awakening, but gradually we come to realize the nature of practice that never ceases and is no longer practice at all.  Enlightenment really is in this moment, and life is its
expression.”

Let me read that again:  “No chanting is necessary and no one’s enlightenment depends upon chanting, but as we go deeper in training there is less and less distinction between chanting and any other aspect of life.  Chanting may start out as a form that points to awakening, but gradually we come to realize the nature of practice that never ceases and is no longer practice at all.  Enlightenment really is in this moment, and life is its expression.”

The teachings of the Buddha mention music on many occasions.  The Buddha, in fact, made use of  the simile of the lute in his teaching on right effort.  In music, as in life, nothing should ever be in excess. Music keeps the right beat, neither too fast nor too slow, following the breath, keeping the right measure.  We do exactly the same when we meditate or when we practice with the mind of meditation.  Our practice is the practice of the Middle Way, as Dogen describes it, “…the correct ordering of daily life. “

In the Amitabha Sutra, it is written that heavenly singing and chanting there is heard all day and all night as mandara flowers rain down from the heavens.  And on hearing these melodies, those present naturally become mindful of the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha.  In accordance, it says, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas are very skilled in utilizing music to spread the Dharma and to guide sentient beings to enlightenment.

Sutras sung as hymns and other songs praising the virtues of the Buddhas have attracted and helped purify the hearts of countless disciples.  The Buddha’s Teaching on the Perfection of Great Wisdom says “In order to build a pure land, the bodhisattvas make use of beautiful music to soften people’s hearts.  With their hearts softened, people’s minds are more receptive, and thus easier to educate and transform through the teachings.  For this reason, music has been established as one type of ceremonial offering to be made to the Buddha.”  The Mahavairochana Sutra says “in all acts of singing there is truth; every dance portrays reality.”

So yes!  may we be profoundly grateful to Rev. Master Jiyu!  Chanting truly supports our practice.  The words of our scriptures, invocations, songs, mantras – all offer rich teaching.  And there is also something beyond discriminative thought in the music that underlies them.  And that combination of music and words together serve as a doorway to that “…deepest Wisdom of the heart that is beyond discriminative thought…”.

May we choose to go through that doorway.

In the coming week, perhaps you might pick one scripture, or an invocation, or a mantra and make a commitment to sing it out load each day.

Or perhaps you might sing your practice in a way that resonates with you and make a commitment to do it daily.

What impact does this have on your practice?  How does it support your practice?
I offer the merit of this Dharma Talk for the benefit of all beings,
known and unknown, in need of merit.
Homage to the Buddha.  Homage to the Dharma.  Homage to the Sangha.

This is the first of three Dharma offerings in the series Scriptures, Sutras, Invocations –  Chanted, Spoken, Unspoken by Reverend Helen Cummings, a Senior Teacher of Buddhism at Shasta Abbey Buddhist Monastery. The text version of the teaching is below.    Link to Audio.

Talk 1:  Recited Scriptures and Our Practice 
The Scripture on the Immeasurable Life of the Tathagata, one of the core scriptures of our Tradition, begins like this

The World-Honored One (the Buddha), then desiring to reiterate the Teaching’s meaning, spoke thus in verse:
Since I have realized Buddhahood, the aeons through which I have passed are immeasurable hundreds of thousands of millions of billions.
Continuously have I voice the Dharma, teaching untold billions of beings how to turn their hearts around that they might enter the Buddha’s path.

The Buddha himself says it—he continuously voices the Dharma! So what is “voicing the Dharma”?   For our purposes here it is speaking the Dharma, or chanting (which is often defined as “sung speech”) the Dharma, or acting in accord with the Dharma in our daily lives.  Rev. Master Jiyu built on the Buddha’s example, leaving us a legacy that helps us take our meditation practice right from our sitting place into all aspects of daily life.Reverend Master Jiyu’s liturgical legacy—of Scriptures, Sutras, Verses – all of this supports our practice and encourages our fuller participate in what she called “the Ceremony of Daily Life”. In this and the next two talks I hope to address how this liturgical legacy supports us in our practice.

Recitation of scriptures and verses is not limited to being a monk at Shasta Abbey or on retreat.  This is a practice that fits the monastery, the home, the office, school, hospital and recreation area.  Whether a lay person or a monk we all have the opportunity to bring greater commitment, mindfulness, gratitude and kindness to our daily practice.   As a lay person I found that one on the most helpful moments in a busy day in Silicon Valley traffic day was the opportunity to recite the Invocation of Achalanatha at the
3-minute long stoplights along the San Tomas Express.

This is a practice for all people, in all places. Reciting scriptures in our tradition—speaking them aloud—is an essential part of our practice.  The scriptures and verses we recite throughout our day become our meditation cushion away from our seats.  We act as a Buddha when we keep the Precepts.  And we act as a Buddha when we give voice to the Dharma.  Recitation throughout our day continuously brings us back to our meditation cushion, even the recitation of a single word.  We stop.  We return to the “temple of our own heart”, just as we might go to the Meditation Hall.  To stop to recite a verse, a mantra, even a short phrase, is to come back to our sitting place.

Recitations of a longer scriptures are an acts of mindfulness. Recitations of the short verses can help us strengthen awareness in our daily activities.  They can open and deepen our experience of simple acts which we often take for granted. When we focus our mind on the verse, we return to ourselves and become more aware of each action. What do I do when the phone rings?  Is it a bell – inviting me to deeper meditation and awareness?   What needs to be done right now?  What is happening right now?  What is the verse that might be helpful in this very situation?  At this very moment?

Recitation is a means of bringing together body and mind.  It is a means of putting thoughts into our body – embodying them – using breath, vocal chords, tongue, lips, and ears.  Recitation is the means we have of expressing charity, tenderness, benevolence sympathy, Dharma through our lungs, throat and mouth.  Recitation is an act of commitment to our practice, actually saying something out loud, and hearing ourselves say it, perhaps listening to others.  We act as witnesses for ourselves and for others when we do this.   This is one expression of making a vow – “…I vow to make the Buddha’s Truth one with myself…” in this very real embodied way.

Recitation strengthens our connection with our own Buddha Nature as we give voice to the descriptions and reflections of – Buddha Nature.  That’s what the scriptures give us.

Recitation is an act of faith.  As it says in The Scripture on the Immeasurable Life of the Tathagata  ‘…for the Buddha’s Words are true,

not something that is empty and vain…”  The same Scripture continues “…I know at all times whether a sentient being is treading the

Path or walks in other ways, and according to what needs to be done to aid that one, voice teachings of various kinds, making for each this my intention:  ‘how may I help this being enter the Unsurpassed Way and quickly realize Buddahood…’ ”  This is the fundamental expression of the Bodhisattva Vow.

Recitation is a means we have to give vocal energy to Truth, bringing our uninterrupted meditation to life in both senses of that phrase.  Recitation is a means we have to express gratitude. How can we not offer merit for all beings?  Recitation is a means we have of strengthening our own practice, wherever we are, in whatever situations we find ourselves.

Tradition starts the day with a meditation period.  And that first meditation period concludes with the Kesa Verse:
How great and wondrous are the Clothes of Enlightenment,
Formless and embracing every treasure.
I wish to unfold the Buddha’s Teaching,
That I may help all living things.
This verse expresses our wish, not only to practice through the next 24 hours, but in that practice to fulfill the Bodhisattva Vow “…That I may help all living things”. Whether we put on a kesa or a wagesa or simply articulate the words, we set the tone for how we  practice this one day – today.  We recite the Three Refuges at the end of the day, as The Scripture of Brahma’s Net urges:  “at night as you concentrate your mind, keep the Three Treasures in your thoughts…”.  We take refuge in the Buddha. We take refuge in the Dharma.  We take refuge in the  Sangha, choosing to focus on the One True Thing as we go to sleep, letting go of the distractions of the day.
In between these bookends to our day there are so many opportunities for recitation in daily life, both the formal and informal.

We can organize our lives to have time to do formal recitations of Short Morning Service or the Surangama Litany, or say some part of the Mealtime Ceremonial before a meal.  And we can bring our awareness to the times in our day when we have the opportunity to recite the less formal “long stoplight” kinds verses.
The formal Soto Zen scriptures and verses are rich resources for us, both to recite and to study.  We are very lucky to have the traditional verses in English.  This, too, is part of Rev. Master Jiyu’s legacy.  Her translations – and those of Rev. Master Hubert Nearman – make these texts much more accessible to us.

At Shasta Abbey we express gratitude when we recite the Mealtime Ceremonial in one form or another at each meal, and I know lay friends who start a meal at a restaurant with them, too.  Whether in the more extended and formal Mealtime Ceremonial or in the shorter Donors’ Verse and the Five Thoughts we have the opportunity to express our gratitude and our purpose for accepting this food.

The Donors’ Verse says
The two kinds of alms, material and spiritual,
have the endowment of boundless merit.
Now that they have been fulfilled in this act of charity,
both self and others gain pleasure there from.
The Five Thoughts go on
We must think deeply of the ways and means by which this food has come.

We must consider our merit when accepting it.

We must protect ourselves from error by excluding greed from our minds.

We will eat lest we become lean and die.

We accept this food so that we may become enlightened.

We can also say the Donor’s Verse when we receive anything, not just food.  It’s an acknowledgement of our gratitude and our connection to all beings: …both self and other gains pleasure there from.  Similarly we can say the Five Thoughts when we receive a teaching, or a gift, or a hard and uncomfortable truth:
…the ways and means this difficulty has come…
…can I consider my merit when accepting it…?
…can I protect myself from error by excluding greed from my mind?
…can I accept it lest I become lean and die (metaphorically or otherwise)?
…and can I accept this teaching so that I may become enlightened?

When we sit to study the Dharma we recite the Lecture Verse as I did at the start of this talk.
The unsurpassed, penetrating and perfect Truth is seldom met with
Even in a hundred thousand myriad kalpas.

Now we can see and hear it.  We can remember and accept it.

I vow to make the Buddha’s Truth one with myself.

Here again, we have the opportunity to commit ourselves to deepen our practice as we vow to make the Buddha’s Truth one with myself.

When we step into challenging situations the Metta Sutra or the Loving Kindness Sutra comes to hand.  May all beings be happy, peaceful, and free from suffering.  This goes a long way toward diffusing situations of difficulty, tension, and anger – whether outside me or in my own heart.

When we go shopping, or turn on the TV set or connect to the internet, or are in a situation where we’ve just “gotta have it” we have Venerable Heng Sure’s VegSource Mantra:

I have enough.  I am grateful.  Share the blessing, BodhiSvaha
I have enough.  I am grateful.  Share the blessing, BodhiSvaha.

When we recite the Surangama Sutra we ask for help from the Buddhas and Ancestors.  It is possible to organize our lives so that we can recite regularly the whole of the Scripture and we can also read small segments of it as is possible.  I have come to value the following verses from The Surangama in my own practice:

Make known what needs to be known.
Tame those who would prolong pain. (p. 60   The Monastic Office)
or

To all that is difficult to look upon, Peace! (p. 67   The Monastic Office)
or

To the one who resists, Peace! (p. 68   The Monastic Office)
May you may find your own resonating mantras, verses and phrases as you recite this profound and subtle Surangama Litany.

When we renew our commitment to the Bodhisattva Way of practice we recite the  Bodhisattva Vows:

However innumerable beings may be, I vow to save them all.
However inexhaustible the passions may be, I vow to transform them all.
However limitless the Dharma may be, I vow to comprehend it completely..
However infinite the Buddha’s Truth is, I vow to realize it.

That “all” – all beings, all passions, all Dharmas, all Truths – all of them start in the moment right in front of me in my day-to-day life.  And whether  monk or a lay person our practice is the practice of the Bodhisattva Vow.  We’re part of the Mahayana Tradition.
The unsurpassed penetrating and perfect Truth is seldom met
with even in a hundred thousand myriad kalpas.
Now we can see and hear it.  We can remember and accept it.
I vow to make the Buddha’s Truth one with myself.

Dogen’s Rules for Meditation offer a doorway into a much deeper understanding of our meditation practice.  And I turn to the Rules when I find myself questioning or doubtful.  “Why ARE training and Enlightenment differentiated?”  “Why study the means of attaining it since the Supreme Teaching is free?”  It helps me to realize that even Great Master Dogen had questions.  We strengthen our commitment to the Precepts and practice when we recite the Shushogi. It contains rich teaching on the Precepts, contrition and conversion, the Four Wisdoms, and gratitude.  Whether the whole scripture or a single chapter or a short verse – this teaching is directly related to our daily life.
We turn the stream of compassion within when we recite the Invocation of Achalanatha (who, remember, is a manifestation of Great Compassion!).  I will often recite “…may I within the temple of my own hearts dwell amidst the myriad mountains,,,” when I am pulled in too many directions by too many distractions.
There are times when a “simple” mantra is enough—sometimes familiar words like Seek To Get Back On The Path (from the Parinirvana Scripture), repeated over and over again, give me encouragement.  Other times untranslated words like the Mantra of Kshtigarbha speak to something that is deeper in my heart.  Om Ha Ha Ha Vismaye Svaha!

Coming out of the drought in Northern California when I turn on the water faucet I very much appreciate “the ways and means” by which this water has come.  Before turning on the engine of the car I’m taking on a trip, I prepare for my journey by reciting a verse for starting the car.  I like one adapted from Ven Thich Nhat Hanh:  Before starting the car I know where I am going.  Or as I drive out the gate, I’ll say the Invocation for the Removal of Disasters.  There are so many opportunities for this kind of verse – turning on (or off) a light or a faucet or a computer, cleaning the bathroom or clearing the weeds – every single point in our day is our meditation cushion.

Reciting even a single word is a connection to our meditation practice – sometimes a simple Help is all I can manage, but it connects me with the Buddhas and the Ancestors.  It connects me with my meditation cushion.

And sometimes, the only thing that’s possible is a simple breath.  Etty Hillesum, author of An Interrupted Life, observed:  “…Sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths…” simply making the space to return to the mind of meditation.

When we recite a Scripture, a Sutra, and Invocation, a Verse, that recitation resounds with a fundamental YES!   YES! It is our intention to realize (make real!) the words we articulate.  YES!  We are committed to bring charity, tenderness, benevolence and sympathy, all forms of the Dharma into our “ceaseless practice”.  YES, as Dogen says  “…the Great Enlightenment is synonymous with our tea and meals.”

My teacher wrote on the back of my small kesa something I read each time I put it on.  “…To become Buddha is to behave like Buddha…”.  So, yes! it is my intention to “…continuously voice the Dharma…” .  I invite you to consider strengthening your practice through engaging more fully with this part of Rev. Master Jiyu’s legacy.

In the coming week, perhaps you might pick one scripture or verse in our tradition to recite on a regular basis.

Or you might consider creating your own verse to recite in your day, for example:
-the verse of the problem I have right now
-the verse of patience
-the verse of burrs under my saddle
-the verse of my commitment
-the verse of my practice

What impact does it have?  How does this recitation support your practice?

I offer the merit of this Dharma Talk for the benefit of all beings,
known and unknown, in need of merit.
Homage to the Buddha.  Homage to the Dharma.  Homage to the Sangha.