Dogen's 'Being-Time' - Part 2
This post is the second of two
exploring Uji, that fascicle of Dogen’s
Shobogenzo known to many as Being-Time. 'Being-Time' - Part 1 introduced Dogen’s primary thesis, that we are
time, by thinking of “it” from an all-encompassing, cosmological perspective and
then scaling back down to that of our human experience. This follow-up post will
examine some of the examples Dogen uses to convey the nature of this reality
that we are time. The following passage is a great place to start:
[Being-time] is the actualization of being. Heavenly
beings like gods and celestials are being-time. All the things in the water and
on land are being-time. The world of life and death and everything in them is
being-time; it continually exists, actualizing itself in your present
experience. Everything exists in the present within yourself.
Continuous existence is not like the rain
blown by the wind east and west. Continuous existence is the entire world
acting through itself. Consider this illustration: When it is spring in one
area, it is spring everywhere in the surrounding area. Spring covers the entire
area. Spring is only spring; it does not presuppose winter or summer. It is the
actualization of the wind and sunshine of spring. Continuous existence is like
this. But continuous existence is not spring; rather, the continuous existence
of spring is spring (Nishiyama, 1975, p. 70).
Cherry blossom viewing in a Yokohama, Japan park |
We are presently experiencing a
cold snap here in my hometown, after being teased with a spate of warmer
weather – an occurrence that certainly has many yearning for the arrival of
spring. But that which we call ‘spring’ neither arrives nor departs. To think
of the coming and going of spring, and time, is to think of time in the
ordinary way – as something that passes. But if spring is something that
passes, it must go somewhere. If time is something that passes, and we are
time, then we must go somewhere – and yet we remain.
“Continuous
existence is the entire world acting through itself.” What we call ‘spring’
is the entire world acting through itself. The entire world is neither arriving
nor departing. The entire world is the sun and earth actualizing being-time,
engaging in a spinning dance of nearness and farness. The entire world is the
earth actualizing its being-time, now showing this face to the sun and now
another. The entire world is life in all of its forms actualizing being-time in
the present moment as all of life has actualized being-time in the present
moment for eons and eons. The actualization of being-time includes warmth and
rain and rising sap, buds and blossoms and birds building nests. The
actualization of being-time includes the emotion and wonder of human beings
gathering to enjoy that which we call ‘spring.’ But continuous existence cannot
be contained or constrained by the word and concept of ‘spring’. Only “the continuous existence of spring is
spring.”
Elsewhere in Uji, Dogen invokes a variation on the now well-known koan related
to a monk asking his teacher, Joshu, the reason for Bodhidharma having come from
the west. Bodhidharma, by the way, was the monk of Indian birth who is
considered the first patriarch of Chinese Zen, or Ch’an. In the more well-known
version, Joshu responds: “Cypress tree in the garden.” In Dogen’s telling of
the story, however, we have a conversation between two Zen Masters, Yakusan and
Daijaku, the latter with an apparently deeper realization than the former.
[Yakusan] asks, “I have more or less clarified the
import of the three vehicles and the twelve divisions of the teaching. But just
what is the ancestral master’s intention in coming from the west?”
Thus questioned, Zen Master Daijaku says,
“Sometimes I make him [Daijaku refers
to himself] lift an eyebrow or wink an
eye, and sometimes I do not make him lift an eyebrow or wink an eye; sometimes
to make him lift an eyebrow or wink an eye is right, and sometimes to make him
lift an eyebrow or wink an eye is not right.”
Hearing this, Yakusan realizes a great
realization and says to Daijaku, “In Sekito’s order I have been like a mosquito
that climbed onto an iron ox.” (Nishijima, 2009, pp. 147-148).
Given the context, I think we can safely
conclude that Dogen considers Daijaku’s response to have conveyed his
understanding of being-time – as does, for that matter, “cypress tree in the
garden.” Just as the being-time of the cypress tree reflects the deepest truth
of the entirety of the universe, and just as the being-time of the sun and
earth and all that lives in or on it or rains down upon it encompasses that
which we call ‘spring,’ so the being-time of Bodhidharma and all those who
intently practiced the Dharma with him in China encompassed that which we might
call a Zen ‘spring’ on the Asian continent. But if that is what Daijaku intended
to convey, why didn’t he just say it? What’s with all of this raising of
eyebrows and winking – or not? My understanding is that Daijaku is conveying his
understanding of Bodhidharma’s being-time by relating the truth of his own being-time,
and by doing so, relating the truth of being-time in general. If he’d replied
by saying “cypress tree in the garden” (someone else’s answer), Yakusan would
not have understood Daijaku’s response as the deepest expression of his own
understanding which, itself, is always changing, always evolving, never
absolute – being-time. And so it is that Daijaku sometimes “make[s] him lift an eyebrow or wink an eye.” Daijaku is conveying the
reality that being-time is the moment-to-moment “actualization of being.” He is conveying the reality that “continuous existence is the entire world
acting through itself.”
But that is not quite all there is
to Daijaku’s understanding of being-time. By his own admission, that answer is
sometimes correct and sometimes incorrect. Being-time encompasses enlightenment
as well as delusion. Perhaps Bodhidharma himself, if we could ask him why it
was that he came from the west, would respond very much as did Daijaku: “Sometimes
I head east, and sometimes I head west;
sometimes to head east is right, and sometimes to head east is not right.”
Such is being-time.
Sometimes spring arrives ‘right on
time’ and sometimes spring is ‘late.’ Sometimes spring comes ‘early’ and with
it the awakening of myriad beings which then freeze or whither or starve. This,
too, is being-time. To say that spring has made a mistake or that all of those
myriad beings have been mistaken is to not understand being-time. Arriving
early is being-time. Arriving late is being-time. Heading east with the
intention of heading east is being-time Heading east with no intention
whatsoever is being-time as well.
And yet, even after all of this
discussion of being-time, and how we and all things are time, and how
what we call ‘the passage of time’ is just the ordinary way of thinking about
time, and so on and so forth, we might still say to ourselves: “It’s Monday morning
and my glorious weekend is over; now I’m back at work. Yesterday was fun, but
yesterday is not today – time has passed.” Indeed, Dogen is not denying this
ordinary view of time, for even the ordinary view of being-time is still
being-time. Here is Dogen once again:
Ordinary people, unlearned in Buddhism,
think that being-time sometimes takes the form of a demon, sometimes the form
of Buddha. It is like the difference between living in a valley and then wading
through a river and climbing a mountain to reach a palace. That is, the
mountain and river are things of the past, left behind and have no relation to
living in the present. They are as separate as heaven is from earth.
That is not true, however; when you cross
the river or climb the mountain, you are (time). We cannot be separated from
time. This means that because, in reality, there is no coming and going in time,
when we cross the river or climb the mountain we exist in the eternal present
of time; this includes all past and present time. Crossing the river, climbing
the mountain, living in the palace exist together, interrelated, in being-time.
Demons and Buddhas are yesterday’s time, a tall Buddha image is today’s.
Yesterday’s time is experienced in our present existence. It appears to be
passing but the past is always contained in the present. Like this, the pine
tree is time, the bamboo is also time (Nishiyama, 1975, p. 69).
Perhaps a climb to the top of Pikes
Peak will help us understand the subtle but radical point that Dogen is making
here. Pikes Peak is a mountain in the Rockies that is over fourteen thousand
feet tall. From its summit you can see the Plains stretching eastward to the
horizon as far as the eye can see. Of course, that is not so very unique; all Colorado
fourteeners have exquisite views stretching as far as the eye can see. What is
unique about Pikes Peak, however, is that there is a road on which one can
drive one’s vehicle right to the top! Imagine, then, three people standing at
the summit and drinking in the “very same” view: one has completely exerted him
or herself, hiking miles and miles of rugged trails into the thinning air to
get there; another has driven up the well-maintained, but still
vertigo-inducing roadway, gradually experiencing ever more sweeping vistas
along the way; yet another, after a breathtaking ten minute helicopter ride
from Colorado Springs, lands in the parking lot and strolls up to the summit.
The resulting view for each of them is “exactly the same,” and yet it is not. Each
of them will experience the summit in entirely different ways. Everything…, everything…,
is manifested in the present moment of being-time. The journey to the summit,
no matter how long or short, easy or trying, enjoyable or scary, can only be
experienced in the present moment. ‘Yesterday’ can only be experienced in the
present moment. ‘Last year’ can only be experienced in the present moment. ‘My
childhood’ can only be experienced in the present moment. And so it is that
what we call ‘the passage of time’ is but the blossoming of being-time ever and
always in the present. The three people standing at the summit are sharing
being-time, but each has his or her “own” being-time as well.
As an aside, I should point out the
subtle difference between what Dogen is saying and the well-worn aphorism that
happiness and well-being are related to our ability to “stay in the present moment.”
The notion of “staying in the present moment” does not preclude our ordinary
way of thinking about ‘the passage of time.’ A complete understanding of
being-time does indeed include the possibility that the blossoming of the
present moment is manifested with a mind immersed in thoughts of yesterday or
tomorrow, or a mind that firmly believes in ‘the passage of time.’ Being-time
encompasses delusion and enlightenment alike.
Now, at least one reader must be thinking
to him or herself: “Yes, this discussion has been intriguing, but what does the
correct understanding of being-time have to do with the way I live my life?”
First and foremost, I think, is the
fact that the understanding of being-time (or even movement towards an
understanding of being-time) helps shake us out of our ordinary way of looking
at “our” life. Our ordinary way of looking at life involves the view of
ourselves as almost completely autonomous entities moving through space and
time, but not so completely enmeshed in either as to preclude from coming true
such fantasies as time-travel, or the transmigration of our soul to another
world, or its being raised up to a heavenly realm (another space-time
dimension, perhaps?). The flower of being-time, with its blossoming forth of
all things in a seamlessly integrated whole, is not the sort of flower upon
which the petals might be so rearranged!
Which brings us to the Buddhist
concept of emptiness – sunyata. Our understanding of being-time fosters the
deepening of our understanding of emptiness by nudging us toward the
realization that emptiness is more than just the fuzziness of the boundaries
between things – emptiness of the material; rather, emptiness encompasses the
temporal as well.
Thirdly, I think our deepening
understanding of being-time is accompanied by a deepening understanding of
karma. When we view each moment as the totality of all moments that have ever
been the immediacy and unwavering and unequivocal nature of karma becomes clearer.
Every thought, every emotion, every action, and every word ever spoken is ever
present within the blossoming forth of being-time. When seen in this way, the
precious nature of each moment is realized. This present moment is the entire
world. Thus, what we do with this present moment is of utmost importance. Will
we squander it or use it in some detrimental way, or will we use it to reflect
the entirety of being in the best way that we might actualize it, e.g., “cypress
tree in the garden”?
Finally (at least with respect to
what I have to convey), the reality of being-time sheds light on one of Dogen’s
most intriguing teachings: that practice and enlightenment are one. The idea
that practice leads to enlightenment is the product of our ordinary (and
dualistic) way of thinking about ‘the passage of time.’ That yesterday’s demon
might become tomorrow’s buddha implies that the demon will depart and the
buddha will arrive. But where will the demon go and from whence will the buddha
come? In being-time all things are present.
Here is one more quote from Dogen’s
Uji:
“Each moment is all being, is the entire
world. Reflect now whether any being or any world is left out of the present
moment” (Welch & Tanahashi, 1985, p. 77).
May each of us actualize ‘springtime,’
and all of time, with the entirety of our being…
References
Cleary, T. (2001). Shobogenzo: Zen
essays by Dogen. In Classics of Zen Buddhism: The collected translations of
Thomas Cleary, Vol. Two. (T. Cleary, Trans.) Shambhala Publications by special
arrangement with University
of Hawaii Press (Dogen’s
original work from 1240.)
Nearman, H. (2007). Shobogenzo: the treasure
house of the eye of the true teaching (H. Nearman, Trans.) Published by Shasta
Abbey Press. (Dogen’s original work from 1240.) http://www.shastaabbey.org/pdf/shoboAll.pdf
Nishijima, G. W., Cross C. (2009). Shobogenzo:
the true Dharma-eye treasury, Vol. I. (G. W. Nishijima & C. Cross, Trans.)
Published by Numata
Center for Buddhist
Translation and Research. (Dogen’s original work from 1240.) https://www.bdkamerica.org/digital/dBET_T2582_Shobogenzo1_2009.pdf
Nishiyama, K. (1975). Shobogenzo: the
eye and treasury of the true law, Vol. I. (K. Nishiyama, Trans.) Published by
Nakayama Shobo Buddhist Book Store. (Dogen’s original work from 1240.)
Welch, D., Tanahashi, K. (1985). The
time-being: Moon in a dewdrop – writings of Zen master Dogen. (D. Welch &
K. Tanahashi, Trans.; K. Tanahashi, Ed.) North Point Press. (Dogen’s original
work from 1240.)
Image Credits
Cherry blossoms in
Mitsuzawa-park at Yokohama, Japan by Kounosu via:
Cherry
blossoms and koi fish design and tattoo by Joey Pang via:
Copyright 2013 by Maku Mark Frank
I've been thinking about how there can't be a bad intention ... since intention connotes mindfulness, and mindfulness at its best would recognize the best action.
ReplyDeleteKim, I think your nugget of a comment could be explored for a long, long time! What comes to mind for me is that the marriage of wisdom and mindfulness is what produces the so-called best action. On the other hand, one MIGHT consider wisdom to include mindfulness... Words are like that sometimes.
ReplyDeleteI wonder how much intention does connote mindfulness... For instance, we can rather foolishly wish the best for the world and the environment and then, because of our ignorance, not really engage in actions that make it as we would wish. Conversely, acts of brutality might be engaged in with great mindfulness without being wise or good.
Perhaps we use the word mindfulness in different ways - or we've expanded its meaning over time. The mindfulness of the earliest Buddhist texts, as I understand, relates to being mindful of the breath, mindful of the body, mindful of states of mind. When we speak of mindfulness as modern world-aware Buddhists we often speak of the mindfulness of considering all possible outcomes of our actions and so forth - something that requires wisdom.
So, that's what your nugget brings up for me! Your thoughts? Thanks!
I've discovered there are two ways to walk in the zendo. If we lift up our foot and then let it drop, the floor will creak. If we lift up our foot and then set it down, then the floor will not creak. It actually takes a lot of strength to set your foot down with intention ... rather than letting it drop. We think it is the lifting up that is hard. The setting down is really the hard one.
ReplyDeleteI think the word intention means two very different but deceptively similar things. One is about where our attention is when we are doing something, and the other is what was our "intention." The Buddhist intention seems to be the first, where the question of consequences is about the second. It is not that the Buddhist doesn't care about results. It is a different mindset to do that.
I believe that intention is wisdom. We'll see the consequences of our actions because our eyes are wide open. When one says, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, they are speaking of the other intention. When we judge ourselves by "our intention" we are speaking of the other intention. When we are awake, we are speaking of the Buddhist intention.
You describe that nicely, Kim! Thanks!
ReplyDeleteKim, I have to thank you! Your comments here very much inspired my latest post entitled 'Seeing That Which Is': http://crossingnebraska.blogspot.com/2013/08/seeing-that-which-is.html
ReplyDeleteI hope you find it worthwhile. Thanks! Mark