More than ten years ago,
during a retreat in Rome,
Thay distributed to the children
each boy and girl, a seed of corn.
The place where we practiced is called
Castelfusano
very close to Rome
And there were seventy or more children in the retreat.
So I went to the grocery store nearby
and bought a bag of
corn seeds.
They are supposed to make popcorn.
Thay bought a bag and
Thay distribute to every child,
with the recommendation that they go home
and plant the seed of corn in a pot
and water the seed every day.
And this is the homework.
When the seed of corn has become
a plant of corn like this,
you will have to come and talk to it.
And you say something like this:
"My dear plant of corn,
do you remember the time you were a tiny little seed?"
Ask.
And then the plant of corn will be very surprised.
And it may tell you like this:
"Me? A little seed?
I don't believe it!"
So you have to try your best to convince the plant of corn that at one time
it was a seed of corn.
You will say somthing like this, "Listen, my dear little plant of corn.
Two weeks ago
I planted you in a pot like this,
and you were very tiny like this.
And I watered you every day.
And one day you sprouted and you brought forth your first leaf," and so on.
And if you are eloquent enough, you will be able to convince
the plant of corn that one time he was a seed,
a tiny seed.
And if you look skillfully,
you'll still see
the seed of corn in the plant of corn.
Do you think that the seed of corn has died?
If the seed of corn has died, it cannot be a plant of corn.
So the question is:
Do you think the seed of corn has died?
If it has not died, why don't you see it?
Why don't you see it?
And if it has died,
how come that we have a plant of corn?
So the question is: Is the seed still alive, or it has died?
This is quite deep for a little boy, a little girl
as homework.
And yet it is possible to teach the children about no-birth and no-death,
being and nonbeing,
if you are skillful enough.
In Buddhism, we speak about "signlessness".
Sign means the form, the appearance.
The seed of corn does not show its sign, its appearance, anymore.
But that does not mean that it is not there.
It's like
this amount of tea in my glass.
Yesterday it was a cloud floating in the sky.
And now when you look up you don't see the sky anymore,
you don't see the cloud anymore,
and you believe that your cloud has died.
And you suffer. "Oh, my dear little cloud, where are you now?
I suffer so much."
But when you look into the tea, the water,
you recognize your cloud.
You recognize your beloved cloud.
And your beloved cloud has not died.
But because your cloud does not retain…no longer retains the form,
the appearance you are used to seeing,
you think that she has died.
She has passed from the realm of being into the realm of nonbeing.
So you cry.
But in fact your cloud has not died.
If you look skillfully, and you can see your cloud still there with you,
and you can drink your cloud.
You can very well drink your cloud.
So that is the virtue of meditation.
It allows you to see things that people cannot see.
It helps you to remove notions like birth and death, being and nonbeing.
We are going to keep this cornstalk for twenty-one days.
Every day you come here, you will look at it.
And this is the object of our meditation.
The day our mother conceived us,
we were also a little seed,
much smaller than the seed of corn.
And we forgot.
And there should be a scientist or someone to remind us,
so that we remember at that time, we were just a little seed.
Half is the continuation of our father,
and half is the continuation of our mother.
And that seed has become a little child, a baby,
a little boy or a little girl.
But where is he now, that little boy?
Has he died or not?
Where is now that little girl?
Is she still alive?
Or has she died?
When you open your family album, you can see yourself
as a five-year-old boy or a five-year-old girl.
Look at that little boy or little girl and ask, "Are you still alive?"
Where are you now? I don't see you.
So those of us who practice meditation,
when we look at the plant of corn,
we still can see the seed of corn.
The seed of corn is there, alive,
although it doesn't appear in the form we are used to seeing.
The little boy, the little girl in you,
do you think they have died or not, or they continue always?
Do you talk to them?
Or you are so busy?
In the Gospel, it is said that if the grain does not die--si la graine ne meurt--
then the birth of a plant is not possible.
But is it true that something has to die in order for something else to be born?
Let us observe a cloud.
When a cloud becomes the rain,
something is dying or not?
Something is being born or not?
The death of a cloud means the birth of the rain.
If the birth of rain is not there, the death of the cloud is not possible.
So birth and death are the two sides of a coin.
You cannot take them apart.
And meditation on death, according to the Buddha,
is very wonderful.
It can bring you a lot of insight.
And to meditate on death, you know better how to live, to be alive.
There is the teaching of the Three Doors of Liberation. [writing on board]
And the first door of liberation is emptiness.
The second door of liberation is signlessness.
And the third door of liberation is aimlessness.
Emptiness,
signlessness,
and aimlessness.
These are three doors of liberation,
three kinds of concentration,
three practices of meditation.
And this teaching is available in every school of Buddhism.
Every school of Buddhism.
Theravada, Mahayana, Zen, and so on.
Very deep.
And today we speak only of the second one, which is signlessness.
Sign here means the appearance.
This is
This is the form that we perceive.
That is the object of our perception.
A cloud has its own form, its own appearance.
And thanks to that appearance, that form, that we recognize it as a cloud.
And the rain,
the sign and the appearance of the rain is different.
So this sign means object of cognition,
object of perception.
And if we add the word "mind" in it, it becomes perception.
This is "tướng" [sign], this is "tưởng" [perception]
in Vietnamese. Tưởng.
This is "tướng."
"Tướng" is sign.
And "tưởng" means perception, cognition.
There is the mind below.
There is the mind that perceives
the form, the sign.
And in the Diamond Sutra, we learn that where there is a perception,
[how do I say this in English?]
Where there is a perception, there is a deception.
[Phàm sở hữu tướng giai thị hư vọng]
Where there is a sign, there is a wrong perception. [ở đâu có tướng là ở đó có hư vọng]
Where there is a perception, where there is a wrong perception.
Illusion.
Because we are fooled
by the appearance, by the sign.
If we are caught by the sign,
then we are fooled; we cannot see the truth.
When you see the rain,
you don't see the cloud.
You think the cloud has died.
Because you are caught in the sign of a cloud.
And you are caught in the sign of the rain.
So in order to truly perceive the cloud,
you have to be free from the form,
from the sign.
And that is why signlessness is the way.
If you are not caught in the sign,
you can have a correct perception of reality.
And as long as you are caught by appearances,
you cannot see the truth.
And that is why when the child looks at the plant of corn,
he does not see the seed of corn,
and he believes that the seed of corn is not there,
the seed of corn has died.
So if he has the eyes of signlessness,
he can still see the seed of corn in the plant of corn.
And in fact, we can see it;
we can see the seed of corn because we have the eyes of signlessness.
So the key is to have that kind of eyes, the kind of eyes,
signlessness.
So whether we succeed in the contemplation of birth and death or not, depends on how…
on whether we can see things with the eyes of signlessness.
And if we have that kind of capacity, ability, and then we will no longer cry.