Reflections on Dogen's Kannon

  

Kannon is the Japanese name for Avalokiteshvara, the Boddhisattva of Compassion. No doubt you’ve seen a representation of him or her (depictions of both genders exist). Perhaps she has a dozen heads. Perhaps he has an eye in the palm of each of a multitude of hands. These physical attributes are intended to depict a willingness and ability to help alleviate the suffering of the world. In fact, Avalokiteshvara is a Sanskrit name variously translated as “Lord Who Looks Down” or “He Who Hears the Cries of the World” (Schuhmacher & Woerner, 1994).

Avalokiteshvara at the St. Louis Art Museum

Kannon is also the title of one of the fascicles in Dogen Zenji’s Shobogenzo. In it Dogen speaks of the awesome and mysterious abilities of this revered being, and of our difficulty in understanding and expressing how these abilities might be used. In fact, we can learn a great deal about Avalokiteshvara, Zen, and the nature of knowledge itself by wading into this dense work. In addition to furthering our understanding of just who Kannon is, we gain insight into what it’s like trying to communicate an ineffable reality, and what it means to understand. Let’s see what we can glean. 

The fascicle begins with a conversation between two old monks, Ungan and Dogo, who have variously known each other or practiced together under the same teacher for over forty years. Both are no doubt familiar with the limitless capabilities/qualities that the Avalokiteshvara possesses, but Ungan appears to be pondering how this reality is conveyed. The conversation below is from the Nishijima & Cross (2008) translation. I’ve restructured the dialogue only slightly in order to improve readability and allow for comparison with another translation:

“What does the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion do by using his limitlessly abundant hands and eyes?” Ungan asks.

“He is like a person in the night reaching back with a hand to grope for a pillow,” Dogo responds.

“I understand. I understand,” Ungan replies.

“How do you understand?” Dogo asks.

“The whole body is hands and eyes,” says Ungan.

“Your words are nicely spoken,” says Dogo. “At the same time, your

expression of the truth is just eighty or ninety percent of realization.”

“I am just like this. How about you, brother?” Ungan asks.

“The thoroughly realized body is hands and eyes.” Dogo replies.

Even a depiction of a thousand-armed being only goes so far towards conveying the limitless abilities of the Avalokiteshvara. Sure, a thousand-armed being has 500 times the average human potential for using hands to alleviate suffering, but the Bodhisattva of Compassion cannot be measured in multiples of human capability. The thousand-armed image is a representation of a limitless being. And that is what Ungan is pondering. What does it really mean to have limitless functioning? How can something as unfathomable as limitless functioning be understood, or described?

Which brings us to Dogo’s response: “He is like a person in the night reaching back with a hand to grope for a pillow.” Instead of thinking in terms of fantastical multiples of limbs or eyes, Dogo is using a metaphor that each of us ordinary beings can relate to. We’ve all reached for a pillow or blanket in the night. We need more cushioning for our head, or a little bit more cover to keep us warm. We have a need and we respond.

But let’s take a look at how Nishiyama (1975) translates this dialogue. I’ve similarly restructured it in order to aid in comparison:

“Why does [the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion] have so many hands […,] and eyes on every finger?” Ungan asks.

“It is like someone who falls off his pillow during the night and gropes for it while still asleep,” Dogo responds.

“I understand completely,” Ungan replies.

“What do you understand?” Dogo asks.

“Does [the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion] have hands and eyes all over its body?” asks Ungan.

“You have spoken properly but it is not enough,” says Dogo.

“I only know what I answered. What else do you want?” Ungan asks.

“The entire body of [the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion] is hands and eyes.” Dogo replies.

So, in this translation it is made clear that the person is still asleep while reaching for that pillow! But how does going from a depiction of a bodhisattva with one thousand arms to a description of a sleeping man groping for his pillow help further our understanding of the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion? Well, Ungan is not saying that a depiction of a being with one thousand arms, scores of eyes, or twelve heads is wrong. After all, such depictions are mere suggestions of qualities that are, in fact, limitless. The real question Ungan is pondering is the nature of the actualization of this functioning.

Clearly we can all relate to being asleep and sensing a chill or a pillow gone hard. We change positions, tug at our blankets, adjust our pillow, or otherwise do what needs to be done in order to address the need and continue our slumber. At such times our senses are fully and seamlessly integrated. We have full and complete functioning. There is, albeit in unconsciousness, a detection of a need and remediation of that need without discrimination or deliberation. It is complete, perfect, and automatic.

Of course, Kannon is not unconscious. As a bodhisattva, his or her awareness is perfect, supreme. Which is not to say that Ungan’s metaphor is a faulty one. We simply have to take it to another level and ask ourselves whether we can, in a fully conscious state and without deliberation, observe and address a need with perfect action brought forth by every fiber of our being acting in perfect concert.

So, a painting of Avalokiteshvara with one thousand arms and eyes might take us part of the way to a perfect understanding of the Bodhisattva of Compassion. Dogo says that Ungan’s description conveys perhaps 80-90% of his or her ultimate reality. To do any better than that would require countless words, Dogen says. Dogen goes on to convey much more in Kannon than I can possibly touch on here. I can only imagine how close to complete his description becomes! My hope, however, is that this reflection might nudge someone’s understanding forward another tenth of a percent so that their continued practice might make realization complete. The perfectly realized body is seamlessly permeated with hands and eyes. May it be so for each and every one of us!

 

References 

Nishijima, G. W., Cross C. (2008). Shobogenzo: the true Dharma-eye treasury, Vol. II. (G. W. Nishijima & C. Cross, Trans.) Published by Numata Center for Buddhist Translation and Research. (Dogen’s original Kannon from 1244.) https://www.bdk.or.jp/document/dgtl-dl/dBET_T2582_Shobogenzo2_2008.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 Kannon from 1244.)

Schuhmacher, S., Woerner, G. (1994). The encyclopedia of Eastern philosophy and religion. Shambhala Publications, Inc.

See also:

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 Kannon from 1244.) https://www.shastaabbey.org/pdf/shoboAll.pdf

 

Image Credits

Avalokiteshvara in the collection of the St. Louis Art Museum, photographed by the author.

 

Copyright 2021 by Mark Robert Frank