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Journals: HENG CH’AU: May 24, 1977 - Just as the absence of sexual desire has helped my cultivation immeasurably (less moody, more vigor, concentration, ch’i (energy), “seeing” light, ease, etc.) so the loss of essence hinders it. This a.m. more aware of that than ever. Feel cold, yin-dejected, hard to ignite, very much not “seeing”--a loss of lightness and vigor. Common. I can’t overemphasize how important this is. It is the key and sine qua non of my cultivation. The “reverse turning” being here--in getting rid of sexual outflow. Unable to get rid of the, there is nothing. With it? Well, I’ve only tasted a little so far but it’s truly wonderful. The real freedom and joy lies in transcending and transmuting sexual desire. There’s no place in the world like Wilshire Blvd. Real live Ben and Barbi dolls, all manner of endless things to buy and forget with. It’s very every street in America grown wild, colossal. People drop with heart attacks on the sidewalk while shopping or after lunch. An ambulance picks them off the street and they’re gone, just like the broken-down cars towed away by a tow truck. Impermanence everywhere. The pigeons and shoppers hustle and jump about--endless hunting, endless needs. I used to think I could never avoid this when I was a kid—that this was the world one had to grow into and take over, to inherit. But there’s another heritage waiting for anyone who wants some truth--cynicism ain’t it. When you play all these dharmas through and through, over and over, some day or other, some morning half awake after the alarm rings or just before you fall asleep, it hits hard--this is nowhere! But what else is there? Well, I’ve done all these trips and games and thought they were it and watched them all deflate into this void. Take refuge within, in the Triple Jewel. It’s here that the answer lies. Alive in America, how rare! HENG SURE: May 25, 1977 - At 2 p.m. we came swinging out to bow on a crowded shopping street--the “Miracle Mile” thick with tension (both the street and me) people recognize us buzzing about our pre-noon bowing in that place. Immediately they pick up on us: “What they doing?” “What the hell?” “They’re prayin’.” “What are they praying to?” “They’re praying to themselves, not to anyone else. They don’t belong to this world.” (Pretty profound, although he doesn’t know it.) Twenty feet further I bow in front of a driveway. Suddenly a fancy car slides out, stops, and a silvering templed middle-aged executive totally uptight with himself and with me fumbles for words to vent his anger: “Ah, ah, you’re ah, interrupting the street, gentlemen.” (Curious: who did he see? I was bowing along at the time). I stood up to pace across the drive and continue to bow on the other side but as I rounded his car he deliberately threw it in reverse and backed up, trying to knock me down or run me off the walk. I walked wider and quickened my pace but he came on back, slowly or else he surely would have knocked me down. I made it around and continued my bowing. He revved his engine and slid out into the traffic river. More May 25 - The street is high-charged with negative tension. We bow through the center of it. Trying not to cause more tension; instead of purging it through our work. Suddenly a big wind blows up. High gusts rip at our sashes and robes, blowing hard against our eyes and legs so even walking is difficult, but we continue our pacing and bowing. Before long the people ahead of us and on all sides just disappear before the wind. All the junk in the air--all the tension--is blown away down the street. Once the street is clean, the wind dies, too, and the bowing continues as always. Voice I: Real cultivation has to be a determination to do it and nothing else. You must be mindful of your Dharma method all the time. You can’t take a break, a vacation, a holiday; you can’t “reward” yourself for good work by stopping the work. This is defeat. So once you begin you must keep on pushing. Right up and over the edge. Anything less will not get you there. It is difficult and unnatural. Voice II: Cultivation when it’s real is a gradual natural process which should come in stages. As you breath in and out, your cultivation should allow for effort and rest, effort and rest, never retreating but not forcing the way either. Excess force leads to a strong reaction, just like the circles in t’ai chi: the faster the punch the harder the return punch. HENG CH’AU: May 26, 1977 There Are No Laundromats In Beverly Hills We spent a good hour driving around Beverly Hills last night trying to find a Laundromat. We ended up at Lou’s Speedqueen Mat just outside the Beverly Hills boundary. We asked the police, “Hey, where are the Laundromats?” Police: “There aren’t any. Everybody sends their dirty clothes out and has them washed.” Us: “Or throws them away and buys new ones?” Police: “Right.” Our dirty laundry is just the same as our bad habits our afflictions. Having someone else take care of your dirty clothes is climbing on their conditions and not seeing principle. Sometime or other in order to end suffering you have to take your own stinking laundry, say “Yup, this is mine” and then wash it yourself. Just that is returning the light within. Sending your dirty clothes out is attaching to outside, not internals. The world is full of laundry maids--people who specialize in washing others’ clothes: police, psychologists, teachers, doctors, nurses, gardeners, etc. If we all took care of our own afflictions and bad habits, what need of police, shrinks, doctors, etc.? This a.m. we got pulled over by a police car, flashing lights. I started to get out of the car but heard hard commanding instructions: “Shut the door and don’t get out of the car.” As soon he made the connection that we were the ones he had read about at the station he said, “Oh, you’re the Buddhist pilgrims.” Suddenly he smiles and relaxes. Another good conversation follows with lots of questions and some recognition. So far the people who have recognized and responded to what we represent (the Dharma and the Sangha) have been kids, old people, crazy ladies on the street, and the police. I think it has something to do with doing the same work--reducing and eliminating hostilities, disasters, and bringing some peace and harmony. We try to work with the causes, they with the effects. There’s a sense of both working with nitty gritty reality out in front on the street that’s shared. But more than that. All the years I spent working with disturbed kids, mental patients, counseling families, kids on probation, in hospitals--there was an incredible sense of frustration and futility. Why? Because I was limited to putting Band-Aids on gaping wounds. Constantly dealing with effects, never able to work directly with the causes of all this disturbance and suffering. That’s what the police do. Buddhist monks and nuns don’t withdraw and hide from the world. They go to the root, the cause of the world--inside out. Working on the mind-ground is where it’s at and somehow the police know it. The most dreaded call a copy has to respond to is family arguments, domestic problems. Why? Because that’s close to the root--it’s the most volatile and because they’re only trained to deal with effects. You don’t ask a hospital orderly to do surgery. But because of their work they make the connections and see cause and effect in every call they answer. They clearly see how kids get taught and nurtured into criminals. And they are powerless to stop it. They know what drugs and alcohol do to minds and families. They see it all day long--the results of greed, hatred and stupidity-karma. Like kids, old people and the crazy ladies, police have an eye for the true and smell a phony blocks away. Buddhism is common sense, direct and straight. You can’t help but recognize it. You see it’s as plain as your own face. Everything we see we reflects See who? Who sees? Mirrors everywhere around and round Not even empty space. Laypeople: “Do you have any dirty clothes that need to be washed?” Monks: “We’ll do them ourselves when we are bowing.” Laypeople: “You won’t have time.” Monks: “We’ll find time.” Laypeople: “Oh really it’s nothing for us to do it.” Monks: “It’s everything to do your own laundry.” The Black Spire Is everyday, every minute, every single thought an endless outflow? There is no attaining, just maintaining. There is no end, no beginning, you never get “there.” No final judgment or location, just hard work, patience until there is just hard work and patience. We can’t relax Saturday because Friday was good. No days, no boundaries, every minute without thought is enlightenment; every minute with thought is affliction. “Every day is different, not the same. Three Steps, One Bow is outside the Hilton or in Lincoln Heights or at Gold Wheel Temple--all is thus. Three Steps, One Bow is just a single thought--how far? How long? Are no questions, of no matter. That’s what the writing on the black spire is--a test! Only not a single test, an endless all-the-time test. A single thought=single failure. I’m so happy I cry. Heng Sure says, “That’s a relief. That makes me feel free. Takes the pressure off in a way.” “Let’s bow.” “Always.” Two very old ladies leaning on each other out for a walk, stop and patiently watch, waiting for a chance to ask. Timidly they ask if they can disturb us. “Well, I don’t care what religion you are, I think it’s wonderful praying like this. We really admire you.” Us: “There’s too much hate in the world. If we can change a little hate into some peace and touch others to do the same then…” Lady: “Well I am sure whoever sees you will find a little peace.” On hate: This angry man tried to back right over Heng Sure a couple of days ago. I could hardly believe it. With clear premeditation he said, “You’re interrupting the street, gentlemen,” got in his car and came within inches of crushing Heng Sure! Busy, windy afternoon in Beverly Hills. Two older women circle us, friends. 1st woman: “Ridiculous!” 2nd woman: “Bless you.” 1st woman: “Ridiculous.” 2nd woman: “Bless you.” A very sincere young photographer asked to take pictures and for some information. He said he would send some to Gold Mountain along with his card. “You know, there is something very beautiful around. I can see and feel it.” Three hyped kids buzzed up spewing questions: “What are you doing?” “Where are you going?” “Why are you doing it so low on the ground?” Answer: “So we don’t get lost. If we get too high, we get lost.” “Where do you sleep?” “In sleeping bags.” “Why don’t you take a car, it would be faster.” “Too easy. Anybody could do that.” “That’s a long time…” “Is it?” “Are you with Krishna?” “No.” “They shave their heads too.” “That’s the only thing the same.” “What are you doing it for?” “to clean up our act and hopefully help get rid of all the hate and bad vibes, disasters on the planet.” “Good luck.” Answer: “Don’t get lost.” An elderly businessman eager and bright asks for a release, “How many blocks do you do?” “Thank you.” I couldn’t get a reading on him. He liked to watch and be near but didn’t like to talk. Little girl rides hot wheels right up to Heng Sure with wide open eyes. “What are you doing mister?” I explain. We stop for a break and she comes cruising up again. “Why did you stop?” “We didn’t stop.” “But you are not bowing.” “We’re still bowing inside.” “Oh.” Older girl with edge: “What is this” etc. Going nowhere with this one. Finally she says, “Well, you believe in what you do and I in what I do. You won’t convince me and I won’t change you.” Me: “What do you believe in?” Girl: “I believe in God.” Me: “So do I. All of them.” Girl, emphatically: “But I believe in my one God only!” Me: “Does your God believe in one you only?” Girl tailspins. “Well, uh, uh, take are.” Mumbles away, moved. Flashy car pulls up: “Yoo, hoo, hey, hey, You guys!” What are you doing? Are you Krishnas?” Monk: “No, Buddhist monks.” Girl: “What?” Monk: “Buddhists. Buddhist Monks.” Girl: “Oh, Buddhists. Wow! Far out! Great! I love it!” Windy day! “They’re in a fraternity. That’s part of the hazing they have to go through to join it.” An old woman watched us with a skeptical and discerning eye for about a block. Finally she said, “Okay. God bless you,” and left. “We passed,” added Heng Sure. The doer and the deed are both empty in nature “If I told you I saw them you wouldn’t believe me. I told you I didn’t I would be lying.” Sequence: Police conversation and connecting Dharma with social problems. Know how to speak, they help many groups integrate Dharma with their work. Lunch. “Understand” the dark spire. Feel refreshed, ready. No high or low, just right now always hard work and patience. So obvious. Then comes the first hour of bowing after lunch. U was just doing the work of bowing, real comfortable. Not excited or down, thinking and feeling nothing, just there working. Coming up from a bow I “see” all these beings like the Great Compassion Mantra all around us on all sides and feel them behind for along distance. Specifically, they are a little smaller than us, vajra-bodied, not at all the same as our flesh bodies. Their eyes, wisdom, power is not physical. They are weathered but graceful, straight, slow-moving, professional, unmoved, centered, whitish, and I am aware of their appropriate seriousness and joy. They are tough, sinewy gentle sages. Internal. They are timeless, of another realm, neither on air or ground. They are not of the four elements, and have no desire or anger. They have joy from no afflictions of anger, fear, distraction, laziness, too much talk, jealousy--all these are absent from their being. They have a focused steady even pace, not too excited or lax. They were carefully checking things out, observing, ready for anything but not tense. There was a sense of a universal mind “discussion” about working, territory, job assignments. I feel a large Kuan Yin Bodhisattva somewhere behind like a huge statue--happy and calm. There is no hurry and now wasted motion about these beings. Some have shaved heads, some not. Their clothing is old (robes, white all). They are very quiet. I sense that certain ones specifically are coming through “me”--like “me” of a different time and place. I recognize them and feel affinities but also not exactly them, not especially now. Most of them are martial-like. Dharma protectors. They could fight but their strength is from inside out. They had real gung fu in “heart.” The trail they were setting was a line of purity and light. We (Heng Sure and Heng Ch’au) were like young pups--learning, not too important, but trying. It was mostly due to the power of what we had taken on and what it represented that they were there--not for us personally--and also by the virtue of our Master and our recitation. The eyes seeing this were not really flesh but not either. There were no words. I could see why anything that gets close to them would mellow and become peaceful. There are 25 or 30 on each side. It felt important not to have any false thinking and no anger!!--they would leave over that. Small errors were excusable if worked indulgence. No time for that. They were really awesome, wise, indestructible, patient, and professional. They had been together for a long time.
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