Here is the place; here the way unfolds. The boundary of realization is not 
distinct, for the realization comes forth simultaneously with the mastery of buddhadharma. Do not suppose that what you realize becomes your knowledge and is 
grasped by your consciousness. Although actualized immediately, the inconceivable 
may not be distinctly apparent. Its appearance is beyond your knowledge.
          Zen master Baoche of Mount Mayu was fanning himself. A monk approached 
and said, "Master, the nature of wind is permanent and there is no place it does not 
reach. Why, then do you fan yourself?" "Although you understand that the nature of 
wind is permanent;" Baoche replied, "you do not understand the meaning of its 
reaching everywhere." "What is the meaning of its reaching everywhere?" asked the 
monk again. The master just kept fanning himself. The monk bowed deeply. The 
actualization of the buddha-dharma, the vital path of its correct transmission, is like 
this. If you say that you do not need to fan yourself because the nature of wind is 
permanent and you can have wind without fanning, you will understand neither 
permanence nor the nature of wind. The nature of wind is permanent; because of that, 
the wind of the Buddha's house brings forth the gold of the earth and makes fragrant 
the cream of the long river.


          My first formal Zen teacher, Genki Roshi saw me chopping wood and he told me that I was in samadhi.  At the time I chopped a lot of wood because my house had only wood for heat and cooking.  I got very good at chopping wood and relished in the activity.  I was fully engaging body and mind in the words of Dogen.  Later Genki told me that the essence of Zen was samadhi, samadhi chopping wood, samadhi playing tennis, samadhi at work, and samadhi sitting Zazen.  This happened a long time ago when I was young, in my 20's.  There is something special about being young,  all that energy and flexability.  The patterns of thought have not be come hardened.  Samadhi may be more natural.  At that time my whole life revolved around my spiritual search and I found it a lot of fun and my zazen was improving.  At one point I noticed that there was space between my constant internal verbalization.  My mind was actually getting quiet.  Not long after, I had my first deep experience and passed my first koan.
          The other day a long time practitioner of Zen told me that maybe it didn't matter how long one practiced or how much effort one put into zazen.  Maybe he thought the grace of enlightenment just fell on people randomly.  Maybe he was just expressing his frustration.  In this last section of the Genjo Koan,  Dogen gives his answer to this delema, the basic delema of all serious practitioners, how does one experience enlightenment? His answer, the answer, is very simple, you must practice.  There are no promises in this game.  No matter how much effort and time one puts into zazen there might never be any dramatic results,  but the conditions for any results is practice.  And there are benefits even when there is no large experience.  
        Some times I feel like we practitioners in the West are all tilling soil for the future.  So few of us seem to attain anything really deep in our practice.  I know many many practitioners who have been working at this for years and have never had that desired big experience.
           And again,  practice is not just sitting in a cushion trying to look good, or going to sleep.  Are you wipping the cart or are you wipping the Ox?  Wipping the Ox is  purifying the mind.  Purifying the mind is engaging fully in practice untill the mind is clear and bright, and then once it is clear and bright we can just sit with this clarity. This is zazen this is practice.
          For Dogen practice is enlightenment, dramatic experiences aside.  Even if we are only to feel the light soothing breeze of the dharma we must fan ourselves.  Buddhist retoric is often confusing.  Yes everybody is already enlightened  and yes we all have Buddha Nature but this is an enlightened view and not properly understood by most.  Dogen makes this clear in this last part of his essey If you say that you do not need to fan yourself because the nature of wind is permanent and you can have wind without fanning, you will understand neither permanence nor the nature of wind.  But if you do practice (fan your self) then naturally your practice  brings forth the gold of the earth and makes fragrant 
the cream of the long river.
          
          

          Hi to all my readers.  In one of the sitting groups I lead we have been reading Dogen Zenji's Mountains and Rivers Sutra.  Some people in the group love reading Dogen others resist Dogen because he is so obscure.  The Sutra talks about mountains walking, how can mountains walk?  Dogen's writings are filled with images like this which seem to make no sense.  Whether loving or hating Dogen few people understand him.  
          I have been thinking it would be fun to do a commentary on something of Dogen's.  The Mountains and Rivers Sutra is too long for a blog commentary.  I have chosen the Genjo Koan more properly titled Actualizing the Fundamental Point. not only because it is shorter but also  because it is one of the most beautiful and profound pieces in all of Zen literature.  The translation I am using is from the San Francisco Zen Center. This translation is from a collaboration of Kazuaki Tanahashi, Robert Aitkin and others
          If you don't know Dogen, he was the man who brought Soto Zen from China to Japan, establishing the Soto Zen sect in Japan.  This was in the 13th Century, a long tme ago, but his writings are timeless.  His thought still has tremendous influence in Soto Zen.   
          In this blog I am just going to present the Genjo Koan without commentary. Soak it up.


GENJO KOAN
As all things are buddha-dharma, there is delusion and realization, practice, birth and 
death, and there are buddhas and sentient beings. As the myriad things are without an 
abiding self, there is no delusion, no realization, no buddha, no sentient being, no birth 
and death. The buddha way is, basically, leaping clear of the many and the one; thus 
there are birth and death, delusion and realization, sentient beings and buddhas. Yet, 
in attachment blossoms fall, and in aversion weeds spread.
To carry yourself forward and experience myriad things is delusion. That
myriad things come forth and experience themselves is awakening. Those who have 
great realization of delusion are buddhas; those who are greatly deluded about 
realization are sentient beings. Further, there are those who continue realizing beyond 
realization, who are in delusion throughout delusion. When buddhas are truly buddhas 
they do not necessarily notice that they are buddhas. However, they are actualized 
buddhas, who go on actualizing buddhas.
When you see forms or hear sounds fully engaging body-and-mind, you grasp 
things directly. Unlike things and their reflections in the mirror, and unlike the moon 
and its reflection in the water, when one side is illuminated the other side is dark.
To study the buddha way is to study the self. To study the self is to forget the 
self. To forget the self is to be actualized by myriad things. When actualized by 
myriad things, your body and mind as well as the bodies and minds of others drop 
away. No trace of realization remains, and this no-trace continues endlessly.
When you first seek dharma, you imagine you are far away from its environs. 
But dharma is already correctly transmitted; you are immediately your original self.
When you ride in a boat and watch the shore, you might assume that the shore 
is moving. But when you keep your eyes closely on the boat, you can see that the boat 
moves. Similarly, if you examine myriad things with a confused body and mind you 
might suppose that your mind and nature are permanent. When you practice 
intimately and return to where you are, it will be clear that nothing at all has 
unchanging self.
Firewood becomes ash, and it does not become firewood again. Yet, do not 
suppose that the ash is future and the firewood past. You should understand that 
firewood abides in the phenomenal expression of firewood which fully includes past 
and future, and is independent of past and future.
Ash abides in the phenomenal expression of ash which fully includes future and 
past. Just as firewood does not become firewood again after it is ash, you do not return 
to birth after death. This being so, it is an established way in buddha-dharma to deny 
that birth turns into death. Accordingly, birth is understood as no-birth. It is an 
unshakable teaching in Buddha's discourse that death does not turn into birth. 
Accordingly, death is understood as no-death. Birth is an expression complete this 
moment. Death is an expression complete this moment. They are like winter and 
spring. You do not call winter the beginning of spring, nor summer the end of spring.
Enlightenment is like the moon reflected in the water. The moon does not get 
wet, nor is the water broken. Although its light is wide and great, the moon is 
reflected even in a puddle an inch wide. The whole moon and the entire sky are 
reflected in dewdrops on the grass, or even in one drop of water. Enlightenment does 
not divide you, just as the moon does not break the water. You cannot hinder 
enlightenment, just as a drop of water does not hinder the moon in the sky. The depth 
of the drop is the height of the moon. Each reflection, however long or short its 
duration, manifests the vastness of the dewdrop, and realizes the limitlessness of the 
moonlight in the sky.
When dharma does not fill your whole body and mind, you think it is already 
sufficient. When dharma fills your body and mind, you understand that something is 
missing. For example, when you sail out in a boat to the midst of ·an ocean where no 
land is in sight, and view the four directions, the ocean looks circular, and does not 
look any other way. But the ocean is neither round nor square; its features are infinite 
in variety. It is like a palace. It is like a jewel. It only looks circular as far as you can 
see at that time. All things are like this. Though there are many features in the dusty 
world and the world beyond conditions, you see and understand only what your eye of 
practice can reach. In order to learn the nature of the myriad things, you must know 
that although they may look round or square, the other features of oceans and 
mountains are infinite in variety; whole worlds are there. It is so not only around you, 
but also directly beneath your feet, or in a drop of water.
A fish swims in the ocean, and no matter how far it swims there is no end to the 
water. A bird flies in the sky, and no matter how far it flies, there is no end to the air. 
However, the fish and the bird have never left their elements. When their activity is 
large their field is large. When their need is small their field is small. Thus, each of 
them totally covers its full range, and each of them totally experiences its· realm. If 
the bird leaves the air it will die at once. If the fish leaves the water it will die at once. 
Know that water is life and air is life. The bird is life and the fish is life. Life must be 
the bird and life must be the fish. It is possible to illustrate this with more analogies.
Practice, enlightenment, and people are like this.
Now if a bird or a fish tries to reach the end of its element before moving in it, 
this bird or this fish will not find its way or its place. When you find your place where 
you are, practice occurs, actualizing the fundamental point. When you find your way 
at this moment, practice occurs, actualizing the fundamental point; for the place, the 
way, is neither large nor small, neither yours nor others'. The place, the way, has not 
carried over from the past, and it is not merely arising now. Accordingly, in the 
practice-enlightenment of the buddha way, meeting one thing is mastering it; doing 
one practice is practicing completely.
Here is the place; here the way unfolds. The boundary of realization is not 
distinct, for the realization comes forth simultaneously with the mastery of buddhadharma. Do not suppose that what you realize becomes your knowledge and is 
grasped by your consciousness. Although actualized immediately, the inconceivable 
may not be distinctly apparent. Its appearance is beyond your knowledge.
Zen master Baoche of Mount Mayu was fanning himself. A monk approached 
and said, "Master, the nature of wind is permanent and there is no place it does not 
reach. Why, then do you fan yourself?" "Although you understand that the nature of 
wind is permanent;" Baoche replied, "you do not understand the meaning of its 
reaching everywhere." "What is the meaning of its reaching everywhere?" asked the 
monk again. The master just kept fanning himself. The monk bowed deeply. The 
actualization of the buddha-dharma, the vital path of its correct transmission, is like 
this. If you say that you do not need to fan yourself because the nature of wind is 
permanent and you can have wind without fanning, you will understand neither 
permanence nor the nature of wind. The nature of wind is permanent; because of that, 
the wind of the Buddha's house brings forth the gold of the earth and makes fragrant 
the cream of the long river.