The Prologue
Inexhaustible are its mysteries. In order to realize its myriad
forms and creations, one must love it utterly, study its essential
spirit diligently and never cease contemplating it. Outside of this,
there is nothing else.
The Main Case
Master Dogen said, “Master Dayang Shanggai addressed the
assembly: ‘The blue mountains are constantly walking. The stone woman
gives birth to a child in the night.’”…
“Because the blue mountains are walking they are constant. Their walk
is swifter than the wind; yet those in the mountains do not sense this,
do not know it. To be ‘in the mountains’ is a flower opening ‘within the
world.’ Those outside the mountains do not sense this, do not know it.
Those without eyes to see the mountains do not sense, do not know, do
not see, do not hear this truth.” …
“Thus, the accumulated virtues [of the mountain] represent its name
and form, its very lifeblood. There is a mountain walk and a mountain
flow, and there is a time when the mountain gives birth to a mountain
child. The mountains become the buddhas and ancestors, and it is for
this reason that the buddhas and ancestors have thus appeared.”
The Capping Verse
Everywhere-—
in each tree, rock, bird and beast
I meet myself.
It is at once me,
and I am not it.
Throughout the history of civilization, people all over the world
have regarded mountains as sacred places. Native Americans conducted
rituals right here in these Catskill mountains. In Japan, there are
numerous temples scattered among many sacred mountains.
The religious ascent is to the mountains. The Jains go to Mount
Girnar; the Saddhus to Mount Kailash. Spanish monks hike up the
precipice of Mount Montserrat; Greek Orthodox priests scale Mount Athos.
The Buddha ascended Vulture Peak, Jesus gave his sermon on the Mount,
and Moses received the commandments on Mount Sinai. Mohammed received
the Qur’an in a cave on Mount Hira. Chinese Buddhists seek
self-realization on the slopes of Wutai. In Zen, many Chinese masters we
read about in koan collections are known by the name of the mountain on
which they taught. In fact, we could say that every accomplished Zen
master is the very mountain itself.
What is the magic and attraction of the mountains? Clearly there
is something special in them or about them, because the same regard for
mountains appears in various cultures throughout time.
It is no accident that we find ourselves here on Mount Tremper and
that the “Mountains and Rivers Sutra” has become the teaching of the
Way for us. We are physically and physiologically integrated with the
mountain just by living here. We make our coffee and tea with the juice
that flows out of the springs and rivers of these hills. We grow our
food in what was once—hundreds of millions of years ago—solid rock. Now
it is our garden. We return our waste to it. We’re in equilibrium with
this land, as are all the creatures that live here. The mountain becomes
part of us. We give to it; it gives to us. There is a lot of energy in
that giving and receiving, a lot of power. Over the last twenty-six
years I’ve watched this mountain, powerful as it was the first day we
found it, increase its power with the zazen that we do each day, each
month, each year. What is this mountain then? What are its contours,
location and time? Where exactly is it?
Once I took a friend on a tour of the Monastery grounds and as we
reached Hanshan meadow with its wide open view of Mount Tremper he
exclaimed, “Oh, there’s the mountain!” I said, “That’s not the
mountain.” “Then where is it?” my friend asked. I replied, “You’re
standing on it.” Actually, even to say “standing on” is extra.
This mountain has many faces. I’ve seen its ferocious side. I’ve
seen it roaring, thunderheads and bolts of lightning flashing over it,
trees crashing to the ground, the river getting up on its hind legs and
walking over land, taking rocks and trees with it, animals scurrying for
safety, the earth trembling. At other times, she’s warm and placid,
loving, nurturing, and protecting. What is the true nature of this
mountain, then? What is the true nature of your self?
“Master Dayang Shanggai addressed the assembly: ‘The blue mountains
are constantly walking. The stone woman gives birth to a child in the
night.’” Master Dayang’s statement about blue mountains is a statement
concerning the relationship between absolute and relative, form and
emptiness.
The prologue says, “Inexhaustible are its mysteries.” This is one
of them—the stone woman giving birth to a child in the night. How is
that possible? “In order to realize its myriad forms and creations, one
must love it utterly.” I use the word “love” to indicate true intimacy,
no separation, not two.
“Inexhaustible are its mysteries.” You are also one of those
mysteries. “In order to realize its myriad forms and creations, one must
love it utterly.” In other words, you must love yourself. “One must
love it utterly, study its essential spirit diligently and never cease
contemplating it. Outside of this, there is nothing else.” Outside of
you, there is nothing else.
Photo by Ana Malin
You and I are the same thing, yet I am not you and you are not me.
We coexist and interpenetrate; we have a mutual causality. We are
interlinked like a giant web throughout time and space. What happens to
you, happens to me—yet I’m not you and you’re not me.
The “night” of “gives birth to a child in the night” is the time
of no differentiation, of absoluteness, where there are no forms. The
darkness is complete, the emptiness all-encompassing. In it, there is no
eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind; no color, sound, smell, taste,
touch, phenomena. No world of sight, no world of consciousness.
Phenomena and differentiation reappear with the light.
Differentiation is where we begin our practice. We come into training
steeped in the world of duality, tossed by this and that event or
object. After years of practice, after taking the backward step and
turning deep into ourselves, we discover the unity of all things. Then,
like a fly on fly-paper we begin to stick to emptiness, just like many
Buddhist practitioners have stuck to it through the centuries. The
absolute basis of reality is an easy place to get stuck. But if you
study with a teacher who is alive and kicking, he or she will expend
effort to loosen the bonds so that you can again see the world of
differentiation, but from a totally different perspective. We must see
that the truth is in neither the absolute nor the relative.
In the second of his Five Ranks, Dongshan says, “The old
grandmother, having just awakened, comes upon an ancient mirror. That
which is clearly reflected in front of her face is none other than her
whole likeness. Don’t lose sight of your face again and go chasing your
shadow.” The second rank is the emergence out of the absolute basis of
reality. In the absolute realm there is no knowing. There is no
consciousness. The moment you realize it, consciousness has already
moved. It’s after the fact. It is on the cusp of that awakening that
everywhere you go you meet yourself. You return into the world of
differentiation, back to the other side of darkness. Most of koan study
is dedicated to investigating these two realms in order to appreciate
the third rank of Dongshan, which goes beyond the absolute and relative.
In the second rank we deal with phenomena of the relative world.
In the “Mountains and Rivers Sutra,” this is referred to as mountains
walking. It’s the continual flux of all things. Nothing is fixed.
Everything is in a constant state of becoming. You, me, everything we
see, think, feel, experience, everything in the whole universe is in a
ceasless state of flux. Nothing is static. This impermanence is the
cause of much of our suffering because we tend to cling to things. When
we grasp, the thing we’re holding on to changes and we change. Yesterday
already happened—it doesn’t exist. Tomorrow hasn’t happened yet—it
doesn’t exist. This moment and the next moment are different, so what is
the use of clinging?
Dogen says, “Because the blue mountains are walking they are
constant. Their walk is swifter than the wind; yet those in the
mountains do not sense this, do not know it. To be ‘in the mountains’ is
a flower opening ‘within the world.’ Those outside the mountains do not
sense this, do not know it. Those without eyes to see the mountains do
not sense, do not know, do not see, do not hear this truth.”
“Because the blue mountains are walking they are constant.” They are
constant or endless, a continuum that encompasses the whole universe,
past, present and future. It’s not just now. Or rather, it is just now, but this now contains past, present and future.
“To be ‘in the mountains’ is a flower opening ‘within the world.’”
Another way of saying this is “opening within the world flower.” Isn’t
that interdependent origination? “Opening within the world flower” means
that mountains and the world are the same. Nothing exists outside the
mountains. In fact, we say “in the mountains” or “outside the
mountains,” but “in the mountains” doesn’t mean there is someone in them
literally. It’s not like going for a hike in the mountains. It’s
speaking of the mountains themselves as those in the mountains. “Those
outside the mountains” means that the mountains themselves are called
“outside the mountains.” It reaches everywhere. Everywhere I go, I meet
it.
Photo by Dan Colcer
Then Dogen says, “Thus, the accumulated virtues of the mountain
represent its name and form, its very lifeblood. There is a mountain
walk and a mountain flow, and there is a time when the mountain gives
birth to a mountain child. The mountains become the buddhas and
ancestors, and it is for this reason that the buddhas and ancestors have
thus appeared.” The accumulated virtues of the mountain are the
mountains walking, the mountains flowing, mountains riding the clouds.
The virtues of mountains are their teachings. The word “lifeblood” has
been translated differently by different people, but it can be referred
to as lineage or tradition, as well as true aspect or essential reality.
“There is a time when the mountain gives birth to a mountain child.”
Mountains give birth to all dharmas. They give birth to buddhas; they
give birth to the white clouds. “And it is for this reason that the
buddhas and ancestors have thus appeared.”
All of our practice and training can be seen in terms of the Five
Ranks. We have monastic practice and we have lay practice. They are
interdependent. They have a mutual causality. Practice in the world and
on the mountain can’t exist without the other. The same applies to the
teacher and student relationship. They cannot be separated. They nourish
and support each other.
Having clearly seen the first rank of Dongshan, we move into the
second rank—the coming out of the absolute basis of reality to manifest
in the world of the ten thousand things. But at this point we also know
that things are intrinsically empty, that they can only exist through
interdependent origination. That’s why mountains walk and flow. That’s
why the stone woman gives birth to a child in the night, or the mountain
gives birth to a mountain child.
The capping verse:
Everywhere-—
in each tree, rock, bird and beast
I meet myself.
It is at once me,
and I am not it.
You and I are the same thing, but I’m not you and you’re not me.
It’s no use trying to understand this. It’s no use believing it. You
have to realize it with the whole body and mind. When you do, that
realization transforms your way of perceiving yourself and the universe.
And that is no small thing.
Photo by Alfredo & Sonia Kojima
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