Lou Hartman
Lou Hartman / Shu-un Mitsuzen
Bright Shadow, Empty Source
June 2, 1915 – January 20, 2011
Lou’s Funeral
Sunday March 13 @ 2pm
San Francisco Zen Center
300 Page Street
San Francisco
Sojun Mel Weitsman will officiate, assisted by Abbot Ryushin Paul Haller and Kiku Christina Lehnherr.
The service will be available as a live video stream for family and friends of Lou unable to attend in person.
Parking will be available from 1:30 – 5 pm in the UCSF parking lot at 55 Laguna Street, approximately two blocks from City Center.
NOTE: March 13 is the beginning of Daylight Savings Time. Clocks will have been adjusted forward by one hour overnight.
Please contact the City Center office at 415-863-3136 for more information.
UPDATE: A recording of the live video stream is available: Video of Lou Hartman’s Funeral
Thoughts While Putting On My Robe in Stone Two at Tassajara
How smoothly the creek’s okesa
Folds across the shoulders
Of the rocks.
—Lou Hartman
Our dear dharma friend Shu-un Mitsuzen Lou Hartman died on January 20 at 3:45pm, surrounded by his wife of over sixty years, Zenkei Blanche Hartman, their children, a granddaughter, and great-granddaughter. Lou and Blanche have four children, eight grandchildren, and a growing number of great-grandchildren. Lou was a long term resident, priest, and practitioner at all three Zen Center locations. He and Blanche were ordained in a 24-person ceremony in September 1977 by Zentatsu Richard Baker. His deep love of practice, his wit and presence inspired us all.
Lou was a great storyteller. Blanche has said that what many people remember and appreciate about Lou is his choice to live as a monk, not as a Zen teacher.
A memorial service was held on the evening of January 20 in the Buddha Hall at City Center, officiated by Sojun Mel Weitsman. A transition service—a well being service for Lou’s passage—was held the morning of January 21 at 6:40am following morning zazen.
Friends and family sat with Lou at Zen Hospice through Sunday afternoon. The Witnessed Cremation Ceremony took place on Thursday, January 27.
I was around Lou enough during my several extended stays at Green Gulch to appreciate what a lovely man he was. I’m so happy to have know him even a little.
He was heart warming.
Barbara Lindstrom
A Student of Charlotte Selver
Always a marvelous father-in-law; so kind, helpful and caring. After retiring from success as a creative writer/journalist, he used the Dharma teaching to make a second, successful life serving others.
Written sitting at GGF decades ago.
Just breath
Like waves
No effort
No motion
Just body
Sitting still
Like deep waters.
I don’t recall ever having had a conversation with Lou, although we greeted one another at either Green Gulch or City Center for 20 years. Blanche was my teacher, and Lou was a presence. Years ago I was taking my regular exercise walk going towards the Marin Circle in Berkeley. I was moving along at a good pace, eyes slightly down, thinking about… whatever. Suddenly I saw a shape in the middle of the sidewalk. I stopped, looked up and there was Lou, hands in gassho. I stopped, we both bowed and smiled, we each stepped to our right and continued on our way. It still makes me smile when I think of that lovely moment. Thank you, Lou.
Hi Lou,
I was at Tassajara earlier this month and of course I thought of you. One particular memory was from the fall practice period in either ’01 or ’02 – during work period you patiently, diligently, mindfully replaced stones on the steps to the zendo.
You remain an inspiration,
Diane
Lou,
Yesterday on the anniversary of your great leap, I re-read “Through the Privy Door”. I could see you smirk and hear you snort “…I have nothing else to say.”
You wrote of visiting Alan Watts’ grave:
If you must set up a stone for me,
Please, let it be
One native to this slope?
Small, sun-checked and weather-worn,
So that in little time,
As such thing go,
Nothing will be left to show
That stone or man once tarried here.
——————————————–
And now I answer: that time hasn’t come yet, there’s still so much to show that this stone and this man tarried here. There’s still so much I remember, so much I learned because of you. I miss you.
Diane
Dear Lou,
Another year passes and I re-reading “Through the Privy Door”.
You wrote:
Silence is the sound
Emptiness makes
Going through its business.
I remember us sitting together in a great quiet waiting for silence.
My old dog died this year. More quiet. Miss you.
Diane