Street Zen by David Schneider

Author:David Schneider [Schneider, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shambhala
Published: 2020-06-09T00:00:00+00:00

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During this period, Issan’s important friendships shifted radically. First, he ended the carnal side of his relationship with Mack, something that had continued “even after Mack got married and had kids, up until the time I was at Zen Center. Finally I said, ‘This is ridiculous. Why I am sucking your dick? Every time you come to see me, I suck your dick….’ We actually had another relationship going besides that; we liked each other. Mack used to keep his eye on me. I think Jillian knew, but she didn’t know how much. When I was living with them, I wouldn’t do it. Not when I was living at their house. But then, he’d come to visit me in the clubs I was working in, and even when I was living with Grant, he came. He’d always come to visit me regularly, because he was also my friend.”

Second, Issan (and everyone else) lost Grant, who was murdered horribly—apparently the result of connecting with the wrong guy in an S&M bar. Police found signs of a violent struggle in Grant’s apartment; they also found Grant tied up with telephone cord, stabbed to death. Because Grant had practiced at Zen Center and had even lived in the building for a while as a guest student, and because he was so clearly important to Issan, he was cremated and given a full Buddhist funeral. Issan always kept Grant’s ashes with him after that.

Mickey and Don had moved to Sonoma, two hours’ drive north of San Francisco, and the closest friend Issan now saw regularly was young James from the commune days. James alternated short stays at Zen Center with long disappearances into the streets of the city where he lived, as Issan once had, hustling, nicking, drugging, and dodging.

Finally, Issan moved to Jamesburg, a rustic, two-bedroom house off the main road in the upper Carmel Valley. The house (with refreshment stand) marked the end of paved road and served as the last stop before the fourteen miles of treacherous, mountainous, dirt road emptying into Tassajara. Zen Center obtained the property as an emergency stop because harsh winter weather often made getting to Tassajara difficult or impossible. Jamesburg quickly became essential to facilitating mail, phone, and transfer of materials to the monastery.

Issan relished this assignment. He appointed the house exactly as he pleased, he ran the refreshment stand with savoir-faire, and he took care of the resident dogs like a scolding schoolmarm. There was always a pot of strong coffee available and always a big vat of chili beans. Zen students coming or going to Tassajara looked forward to their time there—they knew they’d be fed, fussed over, patched up if necessary, gossiped with, and sent on their way.

Gradually the neighbors, mostly upper-middle-class dropouts living in self-constructed houses in the surrounding woods, began coming down from their cabins to hang out with Issan. Baker-roshi: “He was one of the first people to create a real homey atmosphere there. Other people may have created a kind of Zen tightness.

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