wake up and smell the coffee

in the winter of 1967, berkeley zen center was founded on dwight way. twenty years later i moved to berkeley to study with bzc's abbot, sojun mel weitsman. in the spring of 1966, alfred peet opened a coffee and tea store at the corner of walnut and vine. it is here that i landed a job as a sales clerk when i came to study zen. it's hard to imagine life without zen practice or peet's coffee and tea.

during the morning hours i observe our sleepy-eyed customers getting revved up. the line-up at our coffee bar reminds me of the mid-seventies gas station lines. their eyes glaze over as they survey the coffee and tea menu. having discovered a bare cupboard at home moments before, they arrive at peet's, thermos or cup in hand garbling their requests of "leaded" or "high-test" and confessing, "i'm still asleep!" shortly after consuming a cup of peet's finest they are on their way a little warmer and more awake. a monk friend of mine quips, "they may be awake, but they aren't necessarily sentient!"

handling spigots of regular, decaf, hot water, espresso and steam, i'm reminded of the 1000-armed bodhisattva avalokiteshvara. i serve all sentient beings with the precision of a fine-tuned machine. the tea equipage further compounds the act. please don't ask what i'm doing! i remind myself of the millipede who when asked how it could coordinate its myriad legs stumbles as it tries to explain.

around 10am i take time out to catch my breath. outside, a man sits cross-legged atop the newspaper stand. he holds a cardboard cut out of a cup and saucer which reads, "help support caffeine research!" his silent request is a relief from the nagging cries of "spare change" which reverberate throughout this town. i make eye contact and ask him what he's found out. "it keeps me awake!", he says as i drop a quarter in. there are a number of homeless people on this block. fifty-cents later, feelings of hopelessness and helplessness well up in me. what form of dana (charity) gives to all?

amongst the thousands of sentient beings i've served these past five years are the religious writer and professor huston smith, music critic and author greil marcus, photographer annie leibowitz, the contemplative writer brother david steindl-rast and woodstock mc wavy gravy. however, one of the most powerful and intimate exchanges i've had was with a fugitive from prison whose name i did not know. he looked a bit like johnny cash with squared jaw and long slightly waved black hair. daily he would round the corner on his yamaha motorcycle, hair blowing in the wind. after procuring his cup of coffee, he'd stand on the corner alone, sipping slowly. it so happened on the day of his arrest by the f.b.i., i served him his cup. we exchanged smiles as per usual. i knew agents were in the area looking for a man who frequented our store. what i didn't know was that it was he they were after. sadly, i watched as they took him away. the unmarked car drove off and within a minute another car filled the place. i called out, "next customer in line please!" unbeknownst to my new customer an entire universe had just died.

from the mahayana viewpoint i look at this question: just what is a sentient being? all things are sentient beings. my relationship to the cups, bags scoops, cash register etc is no different than my relationship to coworkers and customers. how am i handling this coffee scoop? how am i relating to this person? in zen we say that "other" confirms this self. i want to handle my self with as much attention as i am capable of handling other. i tamp the bag of beans three times to invoke the three treasures before sealing. innumerable labors brought us these beans, we should know how they come to us (painstakingly by hand--it takes a tree one year to produce one pound of coffee!)

sojun impresses upon his students awareness of breath and taking care of what's in front of our noses. this awareness has enabled me to integrate "zendo life" with "outside life". in conjunction with taking care of what's in front of my nose, this mindfulness breathing is my anchor. ordinary way is leagues deep. waking up to this is my vow as a buddhist. the ensuing equanimity affirms the importance of this very moment whether offering incense or a cup of coffee.

suzuki roshi had this to say about the coffee phenomenon: "when you have a cup of coffee on the freeway, that is very good but no one will stay in the coffee shop. you must go on to san francisco. we like that coffee shop, but even though it is good, we should go on with our trip. that is the mahayana way--on and on and on."

at the end of my workday i hop on my motorcycle and ride home. with the helmet visor down, street noise is minimized and the sound of breath fills the universe.

i arrive home and the middle-way is before me. sojun's car is parked in front of the garage on the right and to the left is the concrete wall. the opposed-cylinder heads of my bmw stick out with barely an inch of clearance on either side of these barriers. i never thought i'd be doing kinhin (walking meditation) atop a motorcycle. this mindfulness practice keeps sojun and i eyebrow to eyebrow without a scratch!

i saunter upstairs, hang up my clothes now reeking of coffee and take a shower. afterwards, my wife arrives from afternoon zazen and before setting eyes on me announces, "the coffee man's here!" the nature of wind is permanent and there is no place it does not reach.

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