This evening, though feeling under the weather and skipping out on my Blake reading group, I feel calm and contented, at ease with the elements.  Scrolling through the dharma talk archives, I came across Mel Weitsman's talk, Air, Earth, Fire, Water.  The title seemed to potentially fit my mood, and it had been a long time since I've heard Mel's voice.  He was the first Zen teacher I ever came across - I have a very clear memory of hearing him talk five years ago at the Berkeley zendo.  The talk was an existential experience.  I remember feeling incredibly heavy: "Oh my God, this is a real teacher... now that I know this exists, what do I do?"

After the talk the sangha had tea outside, and I got up the courage to walk up to him.  I think I just said something like, "thank you, your talk meant a lot to me."  And I think he said something like, "Thank you."  He had a twinkle in his eye.  I felt embarrassed because I had a lot of desire to study Zen, and could tell he knew it.  I wanted to ask him for advice but decided I should develop a practice first, which I didn't do for a few years, and I haven't spoken to him since then.   

Mel's talk reminded me of the teachers sacred outlook on life.  The teacher sees the present reality of the student through the lens of helping the student channel their energies of the moment into their future potential.  So a teacher viewing stubbornness helps the student channel that into great dedication.  Similarly, the teachers experience of the student has to do not only with the student right in front of them but with this potential.  Many people would experience a stubborn person through becoming exasperated, but the teacher, like a bodhisattva, may have a very different, positive experience this negative quality as a positive potential.  The whole notion of "negative" gets thrown up in the air by this perspective.  

In a very poetic part of the talk, Mel talks about how desire should not be eradicated, but channeled and transformed.  Students with a fiery nature, like a burning sun, may use passion in destructive rather than creative ways, including undermining their practice.  However, learning to channel that passion, that burning, destructive sun can become a beautiful sunset - something warm, calm, inspiring and peaceful.  Listening to the talk, I experienced a powerful emotion as I considered that just as I see some of my fiery students as potential beautiful sunsets, perhaps there are also Zen teachers who are looking at my friends and I in this light.  I feel there ought to be some word for that feeling adults have when they know their elders are caring for them in this way.