(Keisei sanshiki), Part 1
In this extraordinary chapter Master Dogen describes the
central meaning and reality of the unity of nature and man. One could view
inanimate nature only from the perspective of matter and form, as is the case with the dimension of
materialism, but this would be one-sided and restricted.
Dogen points out that such an external perspective on
form or the elements of matter, such as water, earth, fire and air, only
illustrates the truth partially and
does not reach the core.
In contrast, with
the highest life philosophy in the Buddha Dharma, the awakening, one opens up to a complete new dimension, an
unexpected depth of focus on an
understanding and an experience of nature’s beauty and power.
Dogen calls the rivers and streams flowing in the valleys
tongues of the Buddha; they
teach us compellingly the true
Dharma. In fact, rivers and streams never stand still. The shape of the
mountains resembles Buddha’s body, which is marked by purity and virtue.
Nature, seen in this light, extends
far beyond its substantial and material aspect. In this sense, nature constitutes
a wonderful composition of reality, able to reach and bless man in the core of
his heart.
The bond, better, the unity with nature used to be a very important part of a
man’s life in China and Japan.
Life was inextricably bound up with all sentient beings, including animals and non sentient beings, like pine trees,
bamboo, chrysanthemums, i.e. trees, plants and flowers. Within the Buddha
Dharma, all of this is lived, experienced and understood as harmony and as the natural law of the universe.
Dogen refers to a great Chinese poet who listened to the voice of a river in a mountain
valley and found awakening. Afterwards, he wrote the following poem:
“The voices of the valley are the (Buddha's) wide and long tongue. The shape of
the mountain is nothing else than his pure body."
The poet presented
his verses to a great Buddhist master who confirmed his awakening. But what had
happened when suddenly a whole new all-embracing dimension of life opened up to
him? Indeed, he had written great poetry before, but had not experienced
Buddhist practice and teachings comprehensively. According to Master Dogen, the
poet had not truly realized and
experienced the natural flow of the seasons: flowers in spring, the fresh pine saplings in summer and the
wonderful chrysanthemums in fall, not until he was allowed
to hear the voices in the river valleys.
Shortly before, he had heard a Zen Master's
lecture on non-sentient beings, like trees, flowers and plants, but it had yet not reached his mind and
heart. Presumably there remained with
him the traces and effects
of the Master's words, which then led him that night to experience
his own deep realization of the Buddha Dharma.
Before, he had not been fully open and ready to receive
and feel so deeply the
all-encompassing meaning of the Buddhist teachings. It did not happen until the great awakening came to him that night in an almost mystical experience
through the voices of the river
valleys.
Man as subject and nature as the object had suddenly
merged to form a unity –
actually they had never been separated. But until then the poet had not realized it. Master Dogen asks, in his usual manner, whether the
poet awakened to the truth or whether the mountains and rivers awakened to it.
Is it even possible to separate the two?
