by Eihei Dogen
As all things are buddha-dharma, there is delusion and
realization, practice, and birth and death, and there are buddhas
and sentient beings.
As the myriad things are without an abiding self, there
is no delusion, no realization, no buddha, no sentient being, no
birth and death.
The buddha way is, basically, leaping clear of the many
and the one; thus there are birth and death, delusion and
realization, sentient beings and buddhas.
Yet in attachment blossoms fall, and in aversion weeds
spread.
To carry yourself forward and experience myriad things
is delusion. That myriad things come forth and experience
themselves is awakening.
Those who have great realization of delusion are
buddhas; those who are greatly deluded about realization are
sentient beings. Further, there are those who continue realizing
beyond realization, who are in delusion throughout delusion.
When buddhas are truly buddhas they do not necessarily
notice that they are buddhas. However, they are actualized buddhas,
who go on actualizing buddhas.
When you see forms or hear sounds fully engaging
body-and-mind, you grasp things directly. Unlike things and their
reflections in the mirror, and unlike the moon and its reflection
in the water, when one side is illumined the other side is
dark.
To study the buddha way is to study the self. To study
the self is to forget the self. To forget the self is to be
actualized by myriad things. When actualized by myriad things, your
body and mind as well as the bodies and minds of others drop away.
No trace of realization remains, and this no-trace continues
endlessly.
When you first seek dharma, you imagine you are far
away from its environs. But dharma is already correctly
transmitted; you are immediately your original self. When you ride
in a boat and watch the shore, you might assume that the shore is
moving. But when you keep your eyes closely on the boat, you can
see that the boat moves. Similarly, if you examine myriad things
with a confused body and mind you might suppose that your mind and
nature are permanent. When you practice intimately and return to
where you are, it will be clear that nothing at all has unchanging
self.
Firewood becomes ash, and it does not become firewood
again. Yet, do not suppose that the ash is future and the firewood
past. You should understand that firewood abides in the phenomenal
expression of firewood, which fully includes past and future and is
independent of past and future. Ash abides in the phenomenal
expression of ash, which fully includes future and past. Just as
firewood does not become firewood again after it is ash, you do not
return to birth after death.
This being so, it is an established way in
buddha-dharma to deny that birth turns into death. Accordingly,
birth is understood as no-birth. It is an unshakable teaching in
Buddha's discourse that death does not turn into birth.
Accordingly, death is understood as no-death.
Birth is an expression complete this moment. Death is
an expression complete this moment. They are like winter and
spring. You do not call winter the beginning of spring, nor summer
the end of spring.
Enlightenment is like the moon reflected on the water.
The moon does not get wet, nor is the water broken. Although its
light is wide and great, the moon is reflected even in a puddle an
inch wide. The whole moon and the entire sky are reflected in
dewdrops on the grass, or even in one drop of water.
Enlightenment does not divide you, just as the moon
does not break the water. You cannot hinder enlightenment, just as
a drop of water does not hinder the moon in the sky.
The depth of the drop is the height of the moon. Each
reflection, however long of short its duration, manifests the
vastness of the dewdrop, and realizes the limitlessness of the
moonlight in the sky.
When dharma does not fill your whole body and mind, you
think it is already sufficient. When dharma fills your body and
mind, you understand that something is missing.
For example, when you sail out in a boat to the middle
of an ocean where no land is in sight, and view the four
directions, the ocean looks circular, and does not look any other
way. But the ocean is neither round or square; its features are
infinite in variety. It is like a palace. It is like a jewel. It
only look circular as far as you can see at that time. All things
are like this.
Though there are many features in the dusty world and
the world beyond conditions, you see and understand only what your
eye of practice can reach. In order to learn the nature of the
myriad things, you must know that although they may look round or
square, the other features of oceans and mountains are infinite in
variety; whole worlds are there. It is so not only around you, but
also directly beneath your feet, or in a drop of water.
A fish swims in the ocean, and no matter how far it
swims there is no end to the water. A bird flies in the sky, and no
matter how far it flies there is no end to the air. However, the
fish and the bird have never left their elements. When their
activity is large their field is large. When their need is small
their field is small. Thus, each of them totally covers its full
range, and each of them totally experiences its realm. If the bird
leaves the air it will die at once. If the fish leaves the water it
will die at once.
Know that water is life and air is life. The bird is
life and the fish is life. Life must be the bird and life must be
the fish.
It is possible to illustrate this with more analogies.
Practice, enlightenment, and people are like this.
Now if a bird or a fish tries to reach the end of its
element before moving in it, this bird or this fish will not find
its way or its place. When you find your place where you are,
practice occurs, actualizing the fundamental point. When you find
you way at this moment, practice occurs, actualizing the
fundamental point; for the place, the way, is neither large nor
small, neither yours nor others'. The place, the way, has not
carried over from the past and it is not merely arising now.
Accordingly, in the practice-enlightenment of the
buddha way, meeting one thing is mastering it--doing one practice
is practicing completely. Here is the place; here the way unfolds.
The boundary of realization is not distinct, for the realization
comes forth simultaneously with the mastery of buddha-dharma.
Do not suppose that what you realize becomes your
knowledge and is grasped by your consciousness. Although actualized
immediately, the inconceivable may not be apparent. Its appearance
is beyond your knowledge. Zen master Baoche of Mt. Mayu was fanning
himself. A monk approached and said, "Master, the nature of wind is
permanent and there is no place it does not reach. When, then, do
you fan yourself?"
"Although you understand that the nature of the wind is
permanent," Baoche replied, "you do not understand the meaning of
its reaching everywhere."
"What is the meaning of its reaching everywhere?" asked
the monk again. The master just kept fanning himself. The monk
bowed deeply.
The actualization of the buddha-dharma, the vital path of its
correct transmission, is like this. If you say that you do not need
to fan yourself because the nature of wind is permanent and you can
have wind without fanning, you will understand neither permanence
nor the nature of wind. The nature of wind is permanent; because of
that, the wind of the buddha's house brings forth the gold of the
earth and makes fragrant the cream of the long river.