• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Whether or not we believe in our identity with all things—in our identity with the mountains and rivers—the fact is that it is the truth of our lives. Belief has nothing to do with it. Understanding has nothing to do with it. We have to realize it. And until we do—until we can clearly see this identity functioning in our lives—we will not truly grasp the effect we have on each other and on this great earth.

2.

It is because the blue mountains are walking that they are constant. This walk is swifter than the wind. However, those in the mountains do not sense this, do not know it. To be “in the mountains” is the opening of flowers in the world. Those outside the mountains do not sense this, do not know this. Those without eyes to see the mountains do not sense, do not know, do not see, do not hear this truth.

They who doubt that the mountains walk do not yet understand their own walking. It is not that they do not walk, it’s just that they do not yet understand, have not yet clarified, walking itself. If we are to understand our own walking we must also understand the walking of the blue mountains. The blue mountains are neither sentient nor insentient; the self is neither sentient nor insentient. Therefore, there should be no doubts about these blue mountains walking.

COMMENTARY

Endless blue mountains,

free of even a particle of dust.

Boundless rivers of tumbling torrents,

ceaselessly flowing.

The mountains’ walking is an expression of activity in the world. It is because of the mountains’ walking—because of their activity—that they are endless. They form a continuum that encompasses past, present, and future.

Dogen says, “It is because the blue mountains are walking that they are constant.” We could also say that constant walking is the mountains’ practice.

Old master Baoche of Mount Mayu was fanning himself. Seeing him, a monastic asked, “Master, the nature of wind is constant and there is no place it does not reach. Why must you still fan yourself?”

Mayu replied, “Although you understand that the nature of the wind is constant, you do not understand the meaning of its reaching everywhere.”

The monastic persisted, “What is the meaning of its reaching everywhere?” Mayu just fanned himself. The monastic bowed with deep respect.

In this koan the monastic is asking, given our original perfection, why do we need to practice? In the early years of Dogen’s training, this question was uppermost in his mind. It is what drove him to study exhaustively and to travel to China. It’s a question that many of my students ask me: “Since I’m already enlightened, why do I have to do anything?” Because it is through practice that realization and actualization ultimately take place. It is through practice that we must see for ourselves how Mayu’s fanning himself is not only the wind reaching everywhere, but the fan, Mayu, the monastic, and us reaching everywhere.

To be “in the mountains” is the opening of flowers in the world. Those outside the mountains do not sense this, do not know this. Those without eyes to see the mountains do not sense, do not know, do not see, do not hear this truth.

“A flower opens and the world arises” is a line from a verse written by the Indian master Prajnatara. This phrase has also been translated as “opening within the world flowers,” which means that mountains and the world are one reality. In Zen we use the expression: “In the marketplace, yet not having left the mountain; on the mountain, yet manifesting in the world.” Nothing exists outside the mountains. Dogen refers to those “in the mountains” or “outside the mountains,” but when he speaks of those “in the mountains,” he is not discriminating between those “in the mountains” and the mountains themselves. He is in fact saying that the mountains are identical to those who are “in the mountains.” “Those outside the mountains” are also the mountains themselves. The mountain reaches everywhere.

Then there is the line: “Those outside the mountains