Dogen’s Freeing Verses
Some time has passed since this post has featured a Buddhist poet. Although at this writing in April the idea of Spring has faded, this remains a perfect time to explore one of the great writers of Buddhist traditions. Zen master Eihei Dogen (1200 – 1253) wrote an array of illustrious literature; the volume of his work is collected in Dogen: The Extensive Record, a nearly four-inch thick book whose topics range from dharma talks for his monks, philosophical essays, monastic rules, and not least, poetry. He was the founder of Soto Zen based on his years of study in China (Zen is called Ch’an there).
Even if people know who Dogen Zenji was, few people know that he also wrote hundreds of poems over the course of his life. As all too often happens, it is the poetry that hidden deep within an opus, like sparkling gems under a velvet cloth.
Eihei Dogen, sometimes respectfully referred to as Dogen Zenji, was a key figure in the development of Japanese Zen practice. Soto Zen emphasizes the practice of sitting meditation leading to gradual enlightenment.* Much of the Ch'an Buddhism he explored utilized koans and "encounter dialogues" to startle the consciousness into enlightenment, but Dogen was critical of this practice. Instead, he was drawn to the teachings of silent meditation, called shikan taza (just sitting).
The core of Soto Zen, and indeed, several Zen schools, is to “transcend the mind’s addiction to language”? Where does this leave poetry, the quintessential language of meaning and purpose? Perhaps poetry is not excluded at all, but often leads to the richness of heart-spirit. If this is not language serving the heart-spirit, an explanation of what it is remains to be articulate. One clue to the answer is that accepting “form” as illusion supports becoming fully present and recognizing one’s inherent enlightenment.
Read the selections from Eihei Dogen’s poetry along with commentaries, and decide for yourself just what effect the verses have.
Coming or Going
The migrating bird
leaves no trace behind
and does not need a guide.
from The Soul is Here for its Own Joy: Sacred Poems from Many Cultures,
Translated and Edited by Robert Bly
Impermanence
To what shall
I liken the world?
Moonlight, reflected
In dewdrops,
Shaken from a crane's bill.
from The Zen Poetry of Dogen: Verses from the Mountain of Eternal Peace,
Translated by Steven Heine
Commentary by Ivan M. Granger
This poem by the Japanese Zen master Dogen paints a beautiful poetic image, but what does it really mean? What do moonlight and dewdrops have to do with a description of the world?
The moon is a common spiritual metaphor used to describe enlightenment. Moonlight can be understood to express the radiance of pure awareness that permeates the universe.
Here, that moonlight, that awareness, is "reflected / In dewdrops." Water is often used in Zen poetry as a symbol for the experience of the world -- it is tangible, yet ephemeral; it cannot be stopped or grasped. In the form of dew, it is in it's most fleeting form, ready to disappear at the slightest heavenly warmth.
Each dewdrop can be seen as an individual experience of the world or, alternately, an individual experiencer of the world. Each drop may appear separate, but they are of one substance. Although these worldly experiences do not generate light of their own, they reflect the light of pure awareness. Each drop, in fact, fully reflects the whole moon. There may be one moon above, but each person and each experience contains the full reflection of that moon within.
This is what Dogen is saying when he answers the question "To what shall / I liken the world?" Our notion of ourselves, our experiences, these are "the world." And, though this world is fleeting, it still offers us glimpses of the enlightenment that permeates all things, so long as we look at what is reflected within.
In the stream
In the stream,
Rushing past
To the dusty world,
My fleeting form
Casts no reflection.
from The Zen Poetry of Dogen: Verses from the Mountain of Eternal Peace,
Translated by Steven Heine
Commentary by Ivan M. Granger
The "dusty world" is daily world, the world of objects and experiences. It is dusty because it isn't swept clean; that is, we tend not to see existence in its luminous purity. We see the surfaces. We don't even see that, actually. We see our thoughts about the surfaces. That's what the dust is, the accumulations of assumptions and projections that cover the world and prevent us from seeing directly.
In the ecstatic state, the psychic tension that you normally call yourself disappears. Any action you engage in is not personal, not a creation of your personal will; it is just a part of the flow of movement you witness. Your sense of your self is "fleeting," ghostlike, a mere idea. It has no lasting stamp upon the flow of being; it "casts no reflection."
This is not a negation of existence; it is a merging with Existence... a beautiful state of supreme psychic rest yet also expansion.
Background:
Dogen was born about 1200 in Kyoto, Japan. At the age of 17, he was formally ordained as a Buddhist monk. Considering the Japanese Buddhism of the time to be corrupt and influenced by secular power struggles, Dogen traveled to China to discover the heart of the Dharma by studying Ch'an (Zen) Buddhism at several ancient monasteries.
Dogen returned to Japan in 1236. He left the politicized environment of Kyoto, and settled in the mountains and snow country of remote Echizen Province, where he established his own school of Zen, the Soto school.
Dōgen is known for his extensive writing including his most famous work, the collection of 95 essays called the Shōbōgenzō, but also Eihei Kōroku, a collection of his talks, poetry, and commentaries, and Eihei Shingi, the first Zen monastic code written in Japan, among others.
Exploration 1: “ . . . to transcend the mind's addiction to language and form in order to become fully present and recognize one's inherent enlightenment.” This quote relates to Dogen’s extensive writings while advising to stay away from language which is symbolic only, and not actual reality. Agree? Disagree? However you answer, construct a few sentences explaining your interpretation. Hint: No right answers here. No wrong ones either.
Exploration 2: What does the term “gradual enlightenment” mean to you? Does the concept appeal to you? The opposite is defined the Note*.
Exploration 3: Why would anyone read Dogen’s poetry?
NOTE:
*The opposite of gradual awakening is sudden awakening, the idea that insight into Buddha-nature, or the nature of mind, is "sudden," c.q. "in one glance," "uncovered all together," or "together, completely, simultaneously," in contrast to "successively or being uncovered one after the other."
1. Words are like water. Water can be reduced to hydrogen and oxygen. Words just keep multiplying. I need words to share that idea, even with myself.
ReplyDelete2. Gradual enlightenment is like taking the winding downward path into the Grand Canyon. Sudden enlightenment is like being dropped into the Canyon from a helicopter.
3. Dogen’s poetry reminds me of this priest I heard once whose entire sermon was “There is Heaven and there is Hell. Make your choice.”