A master is like a music teacher who sounds a particular musical chord which the student must attempt to perform. Without the master, a student might aimlessly search for the correct combination of notes, but just one clue from the master, "Put this finger here, this one here, " and student and master strike the same chord in harmony. So the gratitude that I feel towards Shih-fu and the Three Jewels is inexpressible. Without Shih-fu's guidance I would still be clutching at ideas and things, seeking answers, rather than practicing and letting the harvest come naturally.

The fifth night, at the start of the lecture, Shih-fu said that the Karen we saw before us was not the same Karen as last night. A spasm of thoughts disturbed me: some form of disappointment, resentment, despair, past and future thoughts all rolled into one mass. Then another wave of thoughts: O.K., she's answered Shih-fu's question to his satisfaction, I can too if I work hard enough. I just continued focusing my attention on the method. Both sides of the issue and all ensuing emotions were very real, begging me to acknowledge and attach to them. It would have been very comfortabie to feel sorry for myself, but I knew that was a dead-end.

At the end of the lecture, Shih-fu talked about names. Turning to me he said, "What is your name?" After I was unable to answer, he waved his hands in an up-and-down motion about his body saying, "No name, just this...just this!" pointing to himself. This ended the lecture. In five minutes it would be time to sit again. I went to the bathroom, concentrating on my method. I thought, "No name, just this." I looked in the mirror and there was no Dan Wota. I walked downstairs to sit in meditation. Passing through the kitchen I saw that everything was still there, it hadn't disappeared, but it no longer presented a problem.