A Life of Dogen by John M Evans. In the Zen Masters Series.

A later, highly significant master, whose name looms large in Zen history, is the aristocratic priest, Dogen (1200-1253), renowned for introducing the Soto Zen school into Japan, but whose greatest achievement, paradoxically, is in the realm of words, his monumental collection of essays, the Shobogenzo, or Treasury of the True Dharma Eye.

Dogen was an extremely well-read man and something of an infant prodigy. By the age of seven he had devoured the major Confucian classics, and by nine, the complex psychological literature of Southern Buddhism. Unlike the T’ang masters, who revelled in their anti-literacy, Dogen was more of a contemplative kind, a thinker who nevertheless transcended his own thought processes. He is perhaps an ideal example for Westerners, as against the poor and apparently illiterate Hui Neng whose early experiences can only be simulated nowadays in the Third World.

It was the death of Dogen’s mother when he was eight that precipitated his first interest in Buddhism. It is said that as he watched the smoke rising from the incense stick that burnt by the body, he felt directly the transience of all existence. His loneliness drew him towards seeking an explanation for this cruel evanescence, one that satisfied his deepest sense of being, not just a form of words.

Even then he must have been acquainted with the Buddhist notion of annica, impermanence, change. Now he had first-hand knowledge of the principle in his own life. Not surprisingly perhaps it was the phrase, “shedding body and mind”, which was an important catalyst in his realization at the age of twenty-eight. At the moment of his enlightenment Dogen exclaimed: “There is no body and no mind.”

According to a spiritual heir of Dogen, Soto master Shunryu Suzuki Roshi (1905-1971): “all his being in that moment became a flashing into the vast phenomenal world, a flashing which included everything, which covered everything, and which had immense quality in it; all the phenomenal world was included within it, an absolute independent existence. That was his enlightenment.”

His experience was that he had shed body and mind, but still existed — as skylike mind. Suzuki continues: “Because you think you have body or mind, you have lonely feelings, but when you realize that everything is just a flashing into the vast universe, you become very strong, and your existence becomes very meaningful.”

Suzuki Roshi, former Abbot of the San Francisco Zen Center, distinguishes between “little mind”, which is associated with body-mind, and “big mind”, which is everything: Buddha-mind, Buddha-nature. When, during enlightenment we align with big mind, little mind is seen to be just an expression of big mind; clouds scudding across a vast blue sky.

Dogen’s views on enlightenment are generally well-known and much quoted in the literature. Like many a good writer he had the knack of creating memorable phrases, and in this he has been well served by his translators.

“To study Buddhism is to study ourselves. To study ourselves is to forget ourselves.” That is, to forget little mind. And in similar vein: “When one leaves the Way to the Way, one attains the Way.” Or again, on the “unattainability” of attainment: ”to consider attaining such a thing, one must be such a person; already being such a person, why trouble about such a thing?” Here he is playing around with the notion of suchness, allowing it to penetrate into his phraseology with great exuberance.

A Renaissance Man
Master Dogen was undoubtedly what today we would call a Renaissance Man, a polymath. He was comfortable with knowledge at all levels, at home with the philosophy of his day — even ahead of it — and he was a master writer, able to blend intellectual exposition with a poetic ability to make that writing act dynamically on the minds of his readers. For him words were force, never testaments to stale thoughts.

Despite his talents as a wordsmith, he would not rest on a phrase or allow it to become set in concrete. Words were his playthings, they sparkle for an instant then subtly change meaning, sometimes into a direct opposite, so that a negative term suddenly becomes positive. Words to Dogen are like the Tao: “The Tao that is bright seems dull; the Tao that leads forward seems to lead back; The Tao that is even seems rough.”

Words then are ultra-plastic. On the page they remain the same but, by artifice, the movement takes place in the mind of the reader. This enabled him to imply that black is white and white is black; moreover, and at the same time, black is black and white is white, a source of confusion to some readers not acquainted with Buddhism.

Dogen’s main concern was to express the unity of being, the non-dual reality, and in so doing he would harness every facet of his considerable being as speaker, writer and teacher. He would also encourage his students to do the same in their “pursuit” of enlightenment.

One day he was asked by a student why it was that after years of study he (the student) had not yet attained enlightenment. The monk quoted the old masters as saying that students of the Way do not need to be talented, or exhibit any intelligence. Was there something that he had missed? Dogen’s characteristic reply was, yes, there is:

True study of the Way does not rely on knowledge and
genius or cleverness and brilliance. But it is a
mistake to encourage people to be like blind men,
deaf mutes, or imbeciles. Because study (of the Way) has
no use for wide learning and high intelligence, even
those with inferior capacities can participate. True
study of the Way is an easy thing.

He goes on to say that a student who makes a great effort under a competent teacher will surely gain enlightenment. But the following points should be kept in mind: First, there must be a deeply held motivation to seek enlightenment. The aspirant must at all times be watchful, adjusting his effort according to changing circumstances. He should be like a cat watching its prey, totally involved and concentrated. Such intensity is bound to pay off, Dogen reasoned, whether you are studying koan with a teacher or practising contemplations alone. “Without arousing this wholehearted will for the Buddha Way, how can anyone succeed in this most important task of cutting the endless round of birth and death? Those who have this drive, even if they have little knowledge or are of inferior capacity, even if they are stupid or evil, will without fail gain enlightenment.”

Secondly, it is essential always to be aware of the evanescence of human life and the impermanence of all existence. This awareness must become a conviction arising out of experience. Impermanence, he says, is a fact of our lives, we can observe it all around us. It is not just another concept to be meditated upon. We are born in the morning and die in the evening, we do not require scriptures to tell us that. Instead of just noting the process of change in other people, we must be aware of it in our own bodies. “Think of what might happen today, this very moment, in the ordinary world…Perhaps tonight, perhaps tomorrow, you will fall seriously ill; find your body racked with unendurable pain…or be slain by someone seeking vengeance. Life is indeed an uncertain thing…it is absurd to plan your life…and spend your time in fruitless pursuits.” And then comes one of his great statements on the practice of Buddhism:

“Without looking forward to tomorrow every moment, you must think only of this day and hour…you must think of following the Buddhist Way while you live today…You must concentrate on Zen practice…thinking that there is only this day and this hour. After that it becomes truly easy. You must forget about the good and bad of your nature, the strength or weakness of your power.”

Now Read Part 2