2022/07/11

Ch 8 The Philosophy of Zen Master Dōgen Egoless Perspectivism

Chapter 8 The Philosophy of Zen Master Dōgen  Egoless Perspectivism

Bret W. Davis

The Oxford Handbook of  JAPANESE PHILOSOPHY

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  Carrying the self forward to verify- in- practice the myriad things is delu-

sion; for the myriad things to come forth and verify-i n- practice the self is enlightenment. . . . 

. . . When a person verifies-i n- practice the Buddha Way, attaining one  thing he or she becomes thoroughly familiar with that one thing; encountering one activity he or she [sincerely] practices that one activity. Since this is where the place [of the presencing of truth] is and the Way achieves its circulation, the reason that the limits of what is knowable are not known is that this knowing arises and proceeds together with the exhaustive fathoming of the Buddha Dharma.1

 Dōgen Kigen (1200– 1253), founder of the Japanese Sōtō school of Zen Buddhism, is undoubtedly one of the most philosophically original and profound thinkers in Japanese history.2 The focus of this chapter will be on Dōgen’s Genjōkōan, which can be translated 

Dōgen 1990a, 1: 54, 59; Davis 2009, 256, 258; compare Dōgen 2002, 40, 44. Most of my primary references will be to Dōgen 1990a, a reliable and readily available Japanese edition of the Shōbōgenzō in four volumes. Although all translations of quoted passages from Dōgen’s texts will be my own, for the reader’s convenience I will cross-r eference available English translations in addition to citing the original Japanese texts.

An earlier version of this chapter was published in The Oxford Handbook of World Philosophy, edited by Jay Garfield and William Edelglass (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 348–3 60.

 

as “The Presencing of Truth.”3 This key text for understanding Dōgen’s thought is the core fascicle of his major work, Shōbōgenzō (Treasury of the True Dharma Eye). It is the “treasury of the true Dharma eye” that Śākyamuni Buddha (ca. 500 b.c.e.) is said to have transmitted to his successor, Mahākāshyapa, by silently holding up a flower. This event is held to mark the beginning of the Zen tradition, which is believed to have been characterized by Bodhidharma (ca. 500 c.e.) as “a special transmission outside all doctrines; not depending on any texts; directly pointing to the human mind; seeing into one’s true nature and becoming a Buddha.” Like Bodhidharma, who is said to have sat in meditation for nine years after bringing Zen (Ch. Chan) from India to China, Dōgen, too, placed great emphasis on the silent practice of “just sitting” (shikantaza 只管打坐).4

Yet Dōgen’s writings are not just expedient means to practice and enlightenment, fingers pointing at the moon; they are also literary and philosophical masterpieces in their own right. Indeed, Dōgen is considered by many to be the greatest “philosopher” in the tradition of Zen Buddhism.5 Rather than merely insist on the limits of language and reason, he poetically and philosophically manifests their expressive potential. The “entangled vines” (kattō 葛藤) of language are not treated simply as impediments to be cut through with the sword of silent meditation and ineffable insight. Instead, they are understood to have the potential to become “expressive attainments of the Way” (dōtoku 道得) that manifest perspectival aspects of the dynamic Buddha- nature of reality.6

Dōgen accepts the delimited and delimiting nature of language and of thought in general. And yet he does not think that the perspectival limits of all perception, feeling, understanding, and expression are as such antithetical to enlightenment. Rather than an 

For a full translation of this text, together with an explanation of the title, see Davis 2009, 254–2 59. 

Other translations of Genjōkoan include “Manifesting Suchness” (Waddell and Abe 2002), “Manifesting Absolute Reality” (Cook 1989), “The Realized Universe” (Nishijima and Cross 2007–2 008), “Actualizing the Fundamental Point” (Tanahashi 2012), and “Offenbarmachen des vollen Erscheinens” (Ōhashi and Elberfeld 2006).

For an explication of Dōgen’s instructions for and understanding of meditation, see Davis 2016.

Dōgen was first treated as a “philosopher” in Japan in the early twentieth century, most notably by Watsuji Tetsurō (1889–1 960) (Watsuji 2011) and by Tanabe Hajime (1885–1962) ( Tanabe 1963). Prior to that, the study of his texts had been confined to Sōtō sectarian exegesis, starting with Dōgen’s own disciple Senne together with his follower Kyōgō and culminating in a detailed and influential commentary first published by Nishiari Bokusan (1821–1 910), published posthumously in 1930 (Nishiari 1965 and 2011). Recent commentaries by Zen masters include those by Shunryu Suzuki (in Nishiari et al. 

2011, 95– 125), Kosho Uchiyama (in Nishiari et al. 2011, 149–2 23), Yasutani Hakuun (1996), and Shohaku 

Okumura (2010). Philosophical studies of Dōgen in the West include Abe 1992; Heine 1985 and 2012; 

Kim 2004 and 2007; Kasulis 1981; Kopf 2002; Steineck 2002; and Wirth, Schroeder, and Davis 2016. Kim 2007 and Heine 2012 are especially pertinent to the content of the present chapter. The latter contains an excellent commentary and response to recent Japanese reinterpretations of the Genjōkōan’s line, “When verifying one side, the other side is obscured,” which stress the finitude of enlightened as well as delusory perception (Kurebayashi 1992; Yoshizu 1993; Ishii 1997; Matsumoto 2000). Although the original version of the present chapter appeared earlier, in general, I find myself in agreement with Heine’s attempt to split the difference between the traditional interpretation and these recent reinterpretations.

See Chapter 9 in this volume; Dōgen 1999, 163–1 72, 179–184 ; Heine 1994, 243–2 49; Cook 1989, 101– 106; and Davis 2019.

overcoming of perspectivism, enlightenment for Dōgen entails a radical reorientation and qualitative transformation of the process of perspectival delimitation. Nietzsche once wrote “Egoism is the law of perspective applied to feelings.”7 Dōgen would say that “egoistic perspectivism” well describes a state of delusion. Enlightenment, on the other hand, is precisely a matter of shedding the egoistic will to posit oneself as the fixed center of the world. Nevertheless, according to Dōgen, enlightenment does not supplant perspectival knowing with an omniscient “view from nowhere.” Rather, it involves an ongoing nondual engagement in a process of letting the innumerable perspectival aspects of reality illuminate themselves. Enlightenment thus entails an egoless and nondual perspectivism.

Dōgen would agree with Heidegger that any manifestation of truth always involves both a revealing and a concealing.8 As Dōgen puts it, “When verifying one side, the other side is obscured [ippō o shō suru toki wa ippō wa kurashi 一方を証するときは一方はくらし]”9 This epistemological principle is one of the central themes of his thought, and it can be found at work already in the famous opening section of the Genjōkōan. Since the programmatic yet laconic first four sentences of this text are often thought to contain the kernel of Dōgen’s philosophy of Zen, let us begin by quoting and explicating them. As we shall see, these few lines can be read as a compact history of the unfolding of Buddhist thought from its foundational teachings through Mahāyāna philosophies to Dōgen’s Zen.

  Through Buddhism to Zen

 

When the various things [dharmas] are [seen according to] the Buddha’s teaching [Buddha Dharma], there are delusion and enlightenment; there is (transformative) practice; there is birth/ life; there is death; there are ordinary sentient beings; and there are Buddhas.

When the myriad things are each [seen as] without self [i.e., as without independent substantiality], there is neither delusion nor enlightenment; there are neither Buddhas nor ordinary sentient beings; and there is neither birth/ life nor death.

Since the Buddha Way originally leaps beyond both plenitude and poverty, there are arising and perishing; there are delusion and enlightenment; and there are ordinary sentient beings and Buddhas.

Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science, translated by Walter Kaufmann (New York: Vintage Books, 

1974), p. 199 (§162); see also Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power, translated by Walter Kaufmann and R. J. Hollingdale (New York: Vintage Books, 1967), p. 340 (§637). On Nietzsche’s ambivalently egocentric perspectivism, see Davis 2018, 124–1 26.

See Martin Heidegger, “The Essence of Truth,” in Pathmarks, edited by William McNeill (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), 136–1 54. On Heidegger’s thought in relation to Zen’s nonegocentric perspectivism, see Davis forthcoming.

Dōgen 1990a, 1: 54; compare Davis 2009, 256, and Dōgen 2002, 41.

And yet, although this is how we can say that it is, it is just that flowers fall amid our attachment and regret, and weeds flourish amid our rejecting and loathing. 

While the first sentence speaks from the temporal perspective of “when the various things are [seen according to] the Buddha’s teaching  . . .  ,” the second sentence speaks from that of “when the myriad things are each [seen as] without self . . . . ” That which is affirmed in the first sentence is strikingly negated in the second. What is Dōgen doing here in this overturning alteration of perspective? While the first sentence sets forth several fundamental distinctions which constitute the basic teachings of Buddhism— such as that between ordinary sentient beings and their delusion on the one hand and Buddhas and their enlightenment on the other— the second sentence, by focusing now on the central teaching of no-s elf (Sk. anātman; Jp. muga 無我), goes on to negate the reification of these oppositional designations. For readers familiar with Mahāyāna Buddhism’s Perfection of Wisdom literature, such self- deconstructive negations in a Buddhist text do not come as too much of a surprise. The Heart Sutra, for example, radicalizes the early Buddhist doctrine of no-s elf into that of the emptiness (Sk. śūnyatā; Jp. kū 空; i.e., the lack of independent substantiality) of all phenomenal elements of existence (Sk. dharmas; Jp. shohō 諸法) and linguistic conventions, even to the point of a systematic negation of (a reified misunderstanding of) traditional Buddhist teachings themselves, including the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path. The Heart Sutra also speaks of no- birth, no- death, and no- attainment, rather than of nirvāna as the attainment of a release from samsāra as the cycle of birth and death. 

Furthermore, readers familiar with Madhyamaka Buddhist philosopher Nāgārjuna’s notion of the “emptiness of emptiness” (i.e., the idea that emptiness itself is not an independently substantial entity, but rather is the nature of events of interdependent origination [Skt. pratītya- samutpāda; Jp. engi 縁起]),  and with Tiantai (Jp. Tendai) Buddhist philosopher Zhiyi’s development of the doctrine of Two Truths (i.e., the conventional truth of provisional designations and the ultimate truth of emptiness) into the Three Truths of “the provisional, the empty, and the middle,”  will be prepared for the third sentence of the Genjōkōan. No longer qualified by a “when  . . .  ,” the “middle” perspective expressed here resolves the tension between the first two perspectives so as to make possible the reaffirmation of distinctions, but now without reification. In fact, in its teaching of the ontological middle way of interdependent origination, Buddhism has always rejected nihilism and annihilationism along with substantialism and eternalism. The Buddhist account of the interdependent and dynamic nature of reality and the self is not subject to the “all or nothing” dilemma that plagues an ontology of independent and eternal substances. As Dōgen says here, “the Buddha Way originally leaps beyond both plenitude [i.e., substantial being] and poverty [i.e., nihilistic void].” Affirmatively thought, using the language of the Three Truths, the Buddhist middle way embraces the nondual polarity of the provisional “plenitude” of differentiated being and the “poverty” or substantial emptiness of ubiquitous interdependent origination.

It is possible to relate these first three sentences of the Genjōkōan not only to the Three Truths of Tiantai (Tendai) philosophy, but also to Chan Master Weixin’s famous three stages on the way to enlightenment, according to which a mountain is first seen as a mountain (i.e., as a conceptual reification), then not as a mountain (i.e., as empty of independent substantiality and linguistic reification), and finally really as a mountain (i.e., in the suchness of its interdependent origination).  The path of the Buddha Way ultimately leads one back to the here and now.

Be that as it may, and although we should bear in mind that Dōgen was first of all trained as a Tendai monk and was intimately familiar with doctrines such as the Three Truths, it is also important to recall that he was from an early age dissatisfied with the then prevalent doctrine of “original enlightenment” (hongaku 本覚). What concerned the young Dōgen was that a premature and blanket affirmation of the self and the world of distinctions as they are tends to deny or at least downplay the importance of transformative practice (shugyō 修行). This dissatisfaction and concern finally induced him to come down from Tendai’s Mt. Hiei on a path that led him to Zen. 

The primary and ultimate standpoint of Dōgen’s Zen is most directly expressed in the climactic— and, in a sense, intentionally anticlimactic— fourth sentence of the Genjōkōan. Here, Dōgen calls for a return from the heights of reason (ri 理) to the basis of fact (ji 事), that is, to the non-i dealized here and now of concrete experience, where “flowers fall amid our attachment and regret, and weeds flourish amid our rejecting and loathing.” I would suggest that this crucial sentence, like so many in Dōgen’s often polysemous texts, can be read in at least two ways. On the one hand, as an expression of the concrete experiences of enlightened existence, it signifies that nirvāna is not somewhere beyond the trials and tribulations of samsāra (the realm of desire and suffering). Rather, it is a matter of “awakening in the midst of the deluding passions” (bonnō soku bodai 煩悩即菩提). Zen enlightenment is not an escapist dying to, but rather a wholehearted dying into a liberated and liberating engagement in the human life of emotional entanglements.

On the other hand, I think that this fourth sentence can also be read— on a less advanced but certainly no less significant level— as an acknowledgment that no amount of rational explanation of the nonduality of samsāra and nirvāna can bring about an actual realization of this truth. In Fukanzazengi, Dōgen writes: “From the beginning the Way circulates everywhere; why the need to verify it in practice?  . . .  And yet, if there is the slightest discrepancy, heaven and earth are vastly separated; if the least disorder arises, the heart and mind get lost in confusion.”16 And he tells us in Bendōwa: “Although the truth [Dharma] amply inheres in every person, without practice, it does not presence; if it is not verified, it is not attained.”17 Religious practice is necessary, which, for Dōgen, involves not just the practice of meditative concentration but also the practice of thoughtful discrimination. Hence, after the opening section of the Genjōkōan, he proceeds to concretely describe the conversion from a deluded/ deluding to an enlightened/ enlightening comportment to the world.

  Verification: The Practice of Enlightenment

 

A deluding experience of the world, according to Dōgen, occurs when one “carries the self forward to verify- in- practice (shushō 修証) the myriad things.” On the other hand, “for the myriad things to come forth and verify-i n- practice the self is enlightenment.”18 In order to appreciate this explanation of delusion and enlightenment, we need to first discuss Dōgen’s peculiar notion of shushō. In this term, Dōgen conjoins two characters to convey the inseparable nonduality of “practice” and “enlightenment (verification).”19 This key aspect of Dōgen’s teaching is poignantly addressed in the concluding section of the Genjōkōan, where the action of the Zen master fanning himself (practice) is demonstrated to be one with the truth that the wind (Buddha- nature) circulates everywhere.

As Chan Master Baoche of Mount Mayu was using his fan, a monk came and asked, “It is the wind’s nature to be constantly abiding and there is no place in which it does not circulate. Why then, sir, do you still use a fan?”

The master said, “You only know that it is the nature of the wind to be constantly abiding. You don’t yet know the reason [more literally: the principle of the way] that there is no place it does not reach.”

The monk said, “What is the reason for there being no place in which it does not circulate?”

At which time the master just used his fan.

The monk bowed reverently.

The verifying experience of the Buddha Dharma and the vital path of its true transmission are like this. To say that if it is constantly abiding one shouldn’t use a fan, that even without using a fan one should be able to feel the wind, is to not know [the meaning of] either constantly abiding or the nature of the wind.20

Dōgen 1990b: 171; compare Dōgen 2002, 2–3 .

Dōgen 1990a, 1: 11; compare Dōgen 2002, 8; also see Dōgen 1985, 87.

Dōgen 1990a, 1: 54; Davis 2009, 256; compare Dōgen 2002, 40.

See Dōgen 1990a, 1: 28; Dōgen 2002, 19. On Dōgen’s key teaching of the “oneness of practice and enlightenment,” see Davis 2016, 207–2 15.

Dōgen 1990a, 1: 60; Davis 2009, 259; compare Dōgen 2002, 44–4 5.

Enlightenment, for Dōgen, is found neither in inactive detachment, nor in a passive acceptance of the way things are, but rather in the midst of a holistic participation— an engaged playing of one’s part— in the world.

The character for shō 証, which is Dōgen’s favored term for enlightenment, normally means to verify, prove, attest to, confirm, or authenticate something. As a synonym for enlightenment, shō is a matter of verifying (“showing to be true” and literally “making true”) and hence realizing (awakening to and thus actualizing) the fact that one’s true self (honbunnin 本分人), one’s “original part,” is originally part and parcel of the dynamically ubiquitous Buddha- nature. In the Busshō fascicle of the Shōbōgenzō, Dōgen famously rereads the Mahāparinirvāna Sūtra’s claim that “all sentient beings have the Buddha- nature” to mean that “Buddha- nature is all that is” (shitsu- u wa busshō nari 悉有は仏性なり).21 Enlightenment is a matter of verifying- in- practice this fundamental fact. It is a matter of authentication, of truly becoming what one in truth is: a unique expression of a universally shared Buddha- nature.

  Learning to Forget the Self

 

The self is a participant in the dynamically interconnected matrix of the world. Delusion occurs when the self egoistically posits itself as the single fixed center—r ather than existing as one among infinitely many mutually reflective and expressive focal points—o f the whole.22 In delusion, the myriad things are seen, not according to the self-e xpressive aspects through which they show themselves, but rather only as they are forced into the perspectival horizon of the self- fixated and self- assertive ego. To borrow the language of Kant, the deluded and deluding ego willfully projects its own forms of intuition and categories of understanding onto the world. In contrast, through practicing the Buddha Way, one comes to realize the empty (i.e., open and interdependent) nature of the true self.

Dōgen describes the steps of this process of practice and enlightenment in three of the most frequently cited lines of the Genjōkōan:

To learn the Buddha Way is to learn the self.

To learn the self is to forget the self.

To forget the self is to be verified by the myriad things [of the world].23

Dōgen 1990a, 1: 73; compare Dōgen 2002, 61.

As with much of Zen thought, Dōgen’s perspectivism is heavily influenced by Huayan (Jp. Kegon) philosophy, which in turn draws on the Avatamsaka Sūtra’s image of the “jewel net of Indra” wherein each jewel reflects all the others (see Chang 1971; Cook 1977; Davis 2018, 128–1 31).

Dōgen 1990a, 1: 54; Davis 2009, 256; compare Dōgen 2002, 41.

The study of Buddhism, according to Dōgen’s Zen, involves more than a cognitive grasp of the truth of the Buddhist teachings (Buddha Dharma; buppō 仏法). It involves a holistic practice of a way of life (Buddha Way; butsudō 仏道).  The central practice of the Buddha Way for Dōgen, and for the Zen tradition in general, is seated meditation (zazen 坐禅)  rather than study of scriptures, performance of esoteric rituals, or calling on the grace of a transcendent savior. According to Zen, “what comes through the gate [i.e., from outside of oneself] is not the treasure of the house”; the truth must be discovered within. Dōgen thus speaks of meditation as a practice of taking a radical “step back that turns the light around.” 

The light of our unenlightened minds is generally directed outward, shining its objectifying gaze on things and on a projected image of the ego itself. Things and other persons become objects of attachment or aversion, purported possessions or enemies of a reified conception of the self as ego-s ubject. But things and persons change and otherwise refuse to obey one’s will, ever slipping from the grasp of the ego, which is itself constantly subject to mutation and otherwise fails to live up to its self-c onstructed image of itself. Hence, repeatedly disappointed and frustrated, the ego suffers the resistance of the world and, out of greed, hate, and delusion, inflicts suffering on others. Ironically, the Buddha Dharma itself, as with any teaching, can be turned into just another object of dogmatic and even fanatic attachment, diverting us from the root of the problem: namely, a false conception of ourselves and our relation to the world. Therefore, the Buddha Way first of all requires a penetrating examination of the self.

Yet when one turns the light around to reflect on the deepest recesses of the self, what one ultimately finds is— nothing. There is no substantial ego- subject underlying our thoughts, feelings, and desires. But neither is this nothingness— or emptiness—a  nihilistic void. Rather, the ungraspable no-t hingness of the self is the very source of the open- minded, open-h earted, and creatively free activity of the true self. The true self is an open engagement with others. A thoroughgoing “learning of the self” thus paradoxically leads to a “forgetting of the self” as an independent and substantial ego- subject.

Dōgen speaks of this “forgetting” most radically in terms of his own enlightenment experience of “dropping off the body- mind” (shinjin- datsuraku 信心脱落). Note that Dōgen does not speak dualistically of freeing the mind from the body. In fact, he explicitly rejects the mind– body dualism of the so- called Senika heresy and speaks of the “oneness of body– mind” (shinjin ichinyo 身心一如) along with the nonduality of the “one mind” with the entire cosmos.  Insofar as we have identified ourselves with a dualistic and reified conception of the mind, however, along with the body this, too, must be shed. 

Only through a radical experience of letting go of all reifications of and attachments to the mind as well as the body does one become open to the self- presentation of the myriad things of the world.

Yet this openness must be realized, and this realization is neither static nor simply passive. When Dōgen says that “things come forth and verify- in- practice the self” (elsewhere he even claims that “original practice inheres in the original face of each and every thing”28), he is countering the willful self-a ssertion of unenlightened human subjectivity by calling attention to the “objective side” of the “total dynamism” or “undivided activity” (zenki 全機) of a nondual experience of reality. He speaks of the nonduality of this experience as follows: “When you ride in a boat, body-a nd- mind, self-a nd- environs, subjectivity- and- objectivity are all together the undivided activity of the boat. The entire earth as well as the entire sky are the undivided activity of the boat.”29 For our part, in order to authentically participate in this nondual event—a nd hence to verify or realize this or that aspect of reality—w e must not only liberate ourselves from a self- assertive fixation on our body– mind by letting it drop off; we must also spontaneously pick up the body–m ind again in an energetic yet egoless “total exertion” (gūjin究尽) of “rousing the [whole] body– mind to perceive forms, rousing the [whole] body– mind to listen to sounds.”30

Let us pause for a moment to review the pivotal paradoxes involved in Dōgen’s path of Zen. (1) Turning to and from ourselves: by way of initially turning the light of the mind away from (a deluded view of) external reality and back toward ourselves, we discover an emptiness at the heart of the self that opens us up to an enlightened experience of the myriad things of the world. (2) Utter detachment and total involvement: This process of enlightenment entails a radical “dropping off the body–m ind” that leads, not to a state of mindless disembodiment, but rather to a holistic integration of the body– mind and its unattached yet wholehearted employment in nondual events of enlightening perception and understanding.

  Nondual Perspectivism

 

The intimately engaged yet egoless perception and understanding that Dōgen speaks of are never shadowless illuminations of all aspects of a thing. The epistemology implied in Dōgen’s understanding of enlightenment is plainly not that of simultaneous 

Dōgen 1990a, 1: 18; compare Dōgen 2002, 14.

Dōgen 1990a, 2: 84; compare Dōgen 1999, 174.

Dōgen 1990a, 1: 54; Davis 2009, 256; compare Dōgen 2002, 41. There are contrasting interpretations of this passage. Along with traditional scholars, I have interpreted this “rousing the [whole] body–m ind to perceive and listen” in terms of enlightenment. Some recent scholars, however, have argued for reading it in terms of delusion (Ishii 1997, 235; Ueda 2002, 287–2 91).

omniscience.  Enlightenment does not entail the achievement of an instantaneous all- knowing view from nowhere, but rather the realization of being on an endless path of illuminating the innumerable aspects of reality, an ongoing journey of appreciating the “inexhaustible virtues” of things. Enlightenment is not a state of final escape to another world, but rather a never self- satisfied process of enlightening darkness and delusion within this world. Indeed, setting out on this never- ending Way of enlightenment entails awakening to the ineradicable play of knowledge and nescience. And thus, once again paradoxically, Dōgen tells us: “When the Dharma does not yet saturate the body– mind, one thinks that it is sufficient. If the Dharma fills the body– mind, one notices an insufficiency.”32

Dōgen makes this epistemological point most clearly and forcefully in the section of Genjōkōan where he speaks of the inexhaustible aspects and virtues of the ocean.

For example, if one rides in a boat out into the middle of the ocean where there are no mountains [in sight] and looks in the four directions, one will see only a circle without any other aspects in sight. Nevertheless, the great ocean is not circular, and it is not square; the remaining virtues of the ocean are inexhaustible. It is like a palace [for fish]. It is like a jeweled ornament [to gods]. It is just that, as far as my eyes can see, for a while it looks like a circle. It is also like this with the myriad things. Although things within and beyond this dusty world are replete with a variety of aspects, it is only through a cultivated power of vision that one can [intimately] perceive and apprehend them. In order to hear the household customs of the myriad things, you should know that, besides appearing as round or square, there are unlimited other virtues of the ocean and of the mountains, and there are worlds in all four directions. And you should know that it is not only like this over there, but also right here beneath your feet and even in a single drop [of water]. 

When Dōgen speaks of a human being sitting on a boat in the middle of the ocean, looking out in all four directions and seeing only a vast empty circle, he is perhaps also speaking metaphorically of a meditative experience of emptiness. We might refer in this regard to the empty circle or “circular shape” (ensō 円相) that appears as the eighth of the Ten Oxherding Pictures,  which is often interpreted as a symbol for the absolute emptiness of the Dharmakāya (the Truth Body of the Buddha), or the Buddha- nature (busshō 仏性) understood—a s Dōgen and other Zen masters sometimes do— in terms of mu- busshō (無仏性, “no- Buddha- nature” or the “Buddha- nature- of- Nothingness”). 

In any case, what is crucial is that neither the Ten Oxherding Pictures nor Dōgen’s Zen stops at the empty circle. It may be necessary to pass through an experience of emptiness as a “great negation” of the ego and its reifying attachments, and as the realization of absolute equality and equanimity. But even emptiness must not be grasped as a purportedly “perspectiveless perspective” in which one abides. In the all-e mbracing “one taste” of perfect equality, the differences between singular things are obscured. Here, too, “emptiness must empty itself” and allow for distinctions, such that true nonduality is a matter of “neither one nor two” (fu- ichi fu- ni 不一不二). The universal truth of emptiness is not an overarching perspective that negates, but rather a pervading principle that enables the interplay between unique yet interconnected beings. In its “suchness,” each thing, person, animal, or event is neither an independent substance nor an indistinct portion of an undifferentiated totality: rather, it is a unique perspectival opening within the dynamically interweaving web of the world.

Hence, even though one may perceive the ocean (or world) as a vast empty circle, Dōgen goes on to write: “Nevertheless, the great ocean is not circular, and it is not square; the remaining virtues [or qualities] of the ocean are inexhaustible. It is like a palace [for fish]. It is like a jeweled ornament [to gods]. It is just that, as far as my eyes can see, for a while it looks like a circle.” Dōgen is drawing here on the traditional Buddhist notion that different sentient beings experience the world in different manners, depending on the conditioning of their karma. He is likely alluding specifically to the following commentary on the Mahāyāna- saṃgraha: “The sea itself basically has no disparities, yet owing to the karmic differences of devas, humans, craving spirits, and fish, devas see it as a treasure trove of jewels, humans see it as water, craving spirits see it as an ocean of pus, and fish see it as a palatial dwelling.”  Dōgen writes elsewhere that one “should not be limited to human views” and naively think that what you view as water is “what dragons and fish see as water and use as water.” 

The epistemology implied in Dōgen’s view of enlightenment as an ongoing practice of enlightening, as an unending path of discovery, is thus what I would call an engaged yet egoless, a pluralistic yet nondual perspectivism. It is a perspectivism insofar as it understands that reality only shows itself one aspect and focal point at a time. But while, on the one hand, in a deluded/d eluding comportment to the world this aspect and focus get determined by the will of a self-f abricating ego that goes out and posits a horizon that delimits, filters, and schematizes how things can reveal themselves (namely, as objects set in front of a subject who represents and manipulates them), in an enlightened/ enlightening comportment to the world, on the other hand, things are allowed to reveal themselves through nondual events in which the self has “forgotten itself” in its pure activity of egoless engagement. This engagement is neither simply passive nor simply active; for, originally, we are not detached ego- subjects who subsequently encounter (either passively or actively) independently subsisting objects. The original force at work in experience is neither “self- power” (jiriki 自力) nor “other-p ower” (tariki 他力). Rather, writes Dōgen, the “continuous practice” (gyōji 行持) one participates in is “pure action that is forced neither by oneself nor by others.”38 At every moment of enlightened/ enlightening experience there is— for the time being— but a single nondual middle-v oiced event of “being-time” ( uji 有時)39 as a self-r evelation of a singular aspect of reality. Enlightenment is a matter of realizing that the world is in truth made up of such nondual self-r evelatory events. And just as these interconnected yet unique events are infinite, so is the path of their verification- in- practice.

  Bibliography and Suggested Readings

 

Abe, Masao. (1992) A Study of Dōgen: His Philosophy and Religion, edited by Steven Heine. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Bein, Steve. (2011) Purifying Zen: Watsuji Tetsurō’s Shamon Dogen. Honolulu: University of Hawaiʻi Press.

Chang, Garma C. C. (1971) The Buddhist Teaching of Totality: The Philosophy of Hwa Yen Buddhism. University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press.

Cook, Francis H. (1977) Hua- yen Buddhism: The Jewel Net of Indra. University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press.

Cook, Francis H. (1989) Sounds of Valley Streams: Enlightenment in Dōgen’s Zen. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Cook, Francis H. (2002) How to Raise an Ox: Zen Practice as Taught in Zen Master Dogen’s Shobogenzo. Somerville, MA: Wisdom Publications.

Davis, Bret W. (2009) “The Presencing of Truth: Dōgen’s Genjōkōan.” In Buddhist Philosophy: Essential Readings, edited by William Edelglass and Jay L. Garfield. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 251– 259.

Davis, Bret W. (2013) “Forms of Emptiness in Zen.” In A Companion to Buddhist Philosophy, edited by Steven Emmanuel. West Sussex: Wiley- Blackwell, 190– 213.

Davis, Bret W. (2016) “The Enlightening Practice of Nonthinking: Unfolding Dōgen’s Fukanzazengi.” In Engaging Dōgen’s Zen: The Philosophy of Practice as Awakening, edited by Tetsuzen Jason M. Wirth, Shūdō Brian Schroeder, and Kanpū Bret W. Davis. Somerville, MA: Wisdom Publications, 199– 224.

Davis, Bret W. (2018) “Zen’s Nonegocentric Perspectivism.” In Buddhist Philosophy: A Comparative Approach, edited by Steven M. Emmanuel. West Sussex: Wiley- Blackwell, 123– 143.

Davis, Bret W. (2019) “Expressing Experience: Language in Ueda Shizuteru’s Philosophy of Zen.” In Dao Companion to Japanese Buddhist Philosophy, edited by Gereon Kopf. New York: Springer Publishing, 713– 38.

Davis, Bret W. (forthcoming) “Knowing Limits: Toward a Versatile Perspectivism with Nietzsche, Heidegger, Zhuangzi and Zen.” Research in Phenomenology.

Dōgen 1990a, 1: 297; compare Dōgen 1999, 114.

In the Uji fascicle (Dōgen 1990a, 2: 46–5 8; Dōgen 2002, 48–58) , Dōgen famously reads the compound uji, not simply as “for the time being,” but as a nondual event of “being-t ime.” On this philosophically impactful aspect of his thought, see Heine 1985; Stambaugh 1990; and Elberfeld 2004.

Dōgen. (1985) Flowers of Emptiness: Selections from Dōgen’s Shōbōgenzō, translated by Hee-J in Kim. Lewiston, ME: Edwin Mellen Press.

Dōgen. (1990a) Shōbōgenzō [Treasury of the True Dharma Eye], edited by Mizuno Yaoko. 4 vols. Tokyo: Iwanami.

Dōgen. (1990b) Dōgen Zenji goroku [Recorded Words of Zen Master Dōgen], edited by Kagamishima Genryū. Tokyo: Kōdansha.

Dōgen. (1992) Rational Zen: The Mind of Dōgen Zenji. Boston: Shambhala.

Dōgen. (1995) Moon in a Dewdrop: Writings of Zen Master Dogen, edited by Kazuaki Tanahashi. New York: North Point Press.

Dōgen. (1999) Enlightenment Unfolds: The Essential Teachings of Zen Master Dōgen, edited by Kazuaki Tanahashi. Boston: Shambhala.

Dōgen. (2002) The Heart of Dōgen’s Shōbōgenzō, translated by Norman Waddell and Masao Abe. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Dōgen. (2004) Dōgen’s Extensive Record: A Translation of the Eihei Kōroku, translated by Taigen Dan Leighton and Shohaku Okumura. Boston: Wisdom.

Dōgen. (2007– 2008) Shōbōgenzō: The True Dharma- Eye Treasury. 4 vols. translated by Gudo Wafu Nishijima and Chodo Cross. Berkeley, CA: Numata Center for Buddhist Translation and Research.

Dōgen. (2012) Treasury of the True Dharma Eye: Zen Master Dogen’s Shobo Genzo, edited by Kazuaki Tanahashi. Boston: Shambhala.

Elberfeld, Rolf. (2004) Phänomenologie der Zeit im Buddhismus. Stuttgart: Frommann Holzboog.

Garfield, Jay. (1995) Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way: Nāgārjuna’s Mūlamadhyamakakārikā. New York: Oxford University Press.

Heine, Steven. (1985) Existential and Ontological Dimensions of Time in Heidegger and Dōgen. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Heine, Steven. (1994) Dōgen and the Kōan Tradition: A Tale of Two Shōbōgenzō. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Heine, Steven. (2012) “What Is on the Other Side? Delusion and Realization in Dōgen’s ‘Genjōkōan.’ ” In Dōgen: Textual and Historical Studies, edited by Steven Heine. New York: Oxford University Press, 42– 74.

Ishii Seijun. (1997) “Shōbōgenzō ‘Genjōkōan’ no maki no shudai ni tsuite” [On the Main Theme of the Genjōkōan Chapter of Shōbōgenzō]. Komazawa Daigaku Bukkyō Gakuburonshū 

28: 225– 239.

Kasulis T. P. (1981) Zen Action/ Zen Person. Honolulu: University of Hawaiʻi Press.

Kim, Hee- Jin. (2004) Dōgen: Mystical Realist. Boston: Wisdom.

Kim, Hee- Jin. (2007) Dōgen on Meditation and Thinking: A Reflection on His View of Zen. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Kopf, Gereon. (2002) Beyond Personal Identity: Dōgen, Nishida and a Phenomenology of No- Self. Richmond, UK: Routledge.

Kurebayashi Kōdō. (1992) Genjōkōan o kataru: Ima o ikiru Shōbōgenzō kōsan [Talks on the Genjōkōan: Lectures on the Shōbōgenzō for Living in the Present]. Tokyo: Daihōrinkan.

LaFleur, William R., ed. (1985) Dōgen Studies. Honolulu: University of Hawaiʻi Press.

Lopez, Donald S., Jr. (1988) The Heart Sūtra Explained. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Matsumoto Shirō. (2000) Dōgen shisōron [On Dōgen’s Thought]. Tokyo: Daizō Shuppan.

Nagatomo, Shigenori. (1992) Attunement Through the Body. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Nhat Hanh, Thich. (1988). The Heart of Understanding: Commentaries on the Prajñaparamita Heart Sutra. Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press.

Nishiari Bokusan. (1965) Shōbōgenzō keiteki [Shōbōgenzō: Right to the Point]. Tokyo: Daihōrinkaku.

Nishiari Bokusan. (2011) “Commentary on the Genjo Koan,” translated by Sojun Mel Weitsman and Kazuaki Tanahashi. In Dōgen’s Genjo Koan: Three Commentaries, edited by Nishiari et al. Berkeley, CA: Counterpoint, 11– 90.

Nishiari Bokusan et al. (2011) Dōgen’s Genjo Koan: Three Commentaries. Berkeley, CA: Counterpoint.

Ōhashi, Ryōsuke and Rolf Elberfeld. (2006) Dōgen Shōbōgenzō: Ausgewählte Schriften. Tokyo: Keio University Press.

Okumura, Shohaku. (2010) Realizing Genjokoan: The Key to Dogen’s Shobogenzo. Boston: Wisdom Publications.

Shaner, David Edward. (1985) The Bodymind Experience in Japanese Buddhism: A Phenomenological Study of Kūkai and Dōgen. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Stambaugh, Joan. (1990) Impermanence Is Buddha-N ature: Dōgen’s Understanding of Temporality. Honolulu: University of Hawaiʻi Press.

Steineck, Christian et al., eds. (2002) Dōgen als Philosoph. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag.

Swanson, Paul. (1995) Foundations of T’ien- T’ai Philosophy: The Flowering of the Two Truths Theory in Chinese Buddhism. Berkeley, CA: Asian Humanities Press.

Tanabe Hajime (1963) “Shōbōgenzō no tetsugaku shikan” [My Philosophical Perspective on the Shōbōgenzō]. In Tanabe Hajime zenshū [Complete Works of Tanabe Hajime]. Tokyo: Chikuma, vol. 5, pp. 443– 494.

Ueda Shizuteru. (2002) “‘Genjōkōan’ to shizen” [Genjōkōan and Nature]. In Ueda Shizuteru shū [Ueda Shizuteru Collection]. Tokyo: Iwanami, 9: 239– 294.

Watsuji Tetsurō. (2011) Shamon Dōgen, translated by Steve Bein. In Purifying Zen: Watsuji Tetsurō’s Shamon Dogen. Honolulu: University of Hawaiʻi Press, 25–1 17.

Wirth, Tetsuzen Jason M., Shūdō Brian Schroeder, and Kanpū Bret W. Davis, eds. (2016) Engaging Dōgen’s Zen: The Philosophy of Practice as Awakening. Somerville, MA: Wisdom Publications.

Yamada, Mumon. (2004) Lectures on the Ten Oxherding Pictures, translated by Victor Sōgen Hori. Honolulu: University of Hawaiʻi Press.

Yasutani, Hakuun. (1996) Flowers Fall: A Commentary on Zen Master Dōgen’s Genjōkōan, translated by Paul Jaffe. Boston: Shambhala.

Yoshizu Yoshihide. (1993) “Ippō o shō suru toki ha ippō wa kurashi’ no ikku no kaishaku ni tsuite” [On Interpreting the Phrase, “When verifying one side, the other side is obscured”]. Shūgaku kenkyū 35: 12– 17.

Yuasa, Yasuo. (1987) The Body: Toward an Eastern Mind–B ody Theory, translated by Nagatomo Shigenori and T. P. Kasulis. Albany: State University of New York Press.

 


Ch 5 Kūkai’s Shingon Embodiment of Emptiness, Krummel

Chapter 5 Kūkai’s Shingon Embodiment of Emptiness

John W. M. Krummel

The Oxford Handbook of  JAPANESE PHILOSOPHY

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 Kūkai (774–8 35), the founder of Shingon (真言) Buddhism, was an important and influential figure in Japanese intellectual history. His philosophy is distinct in bringing together what initially seem to be concepts of opposite significance—body (shin 身, karada 体) and emptiness (kū 空). It does so in the context of formulating a complex system of cosmology-o ntology that is inseparable from religious practice. On the one hand, bodies are empty. But, on the other hand, emptiness is also the place for bodies and their interactions. And, in turn, that empty place is a cosmic body comprising a manifold of bodies. The cosmos is one giant empty body enfolding an infinity of empty bodies in its space. For Kūkai, the body is of central significance to one’s being vis-à - vis the world as the environing wherein of embodiment. 

This is evident when examining his concepts of “becoming a buddha in this very body” (sokushinjōbutsu 即身成仏), “the embodiment of the dharma preaching the dharma” (hosshin seppō 法身説法), “the three mysteries” (sanmitsu 三密), and “empowerment and retention” (kaji 加持). 

Through our bodies, we find ourselves implaced— embodied— within the world, in interactivity with the environment. We are who we are through our bodily interactions. But the cosmos is also a body that we, in turn, mirror as its microcosms, and this intermirroring between the individual qua microcosm and the cosmic whole qua macrocosm is played out via bodily interrelations. 

In accordance with Mahāyāna philosophy, however, interactivity, intermirroring, interdependence precisely is the meaning of emptiness; that is, the lack of substantiality, the absence of ontological independence. Kūkai thus develops the formula taken from the Heart Sutra that “form is emptiness, emptiness is form” in a direction that involves the body qua empty body and embodied emptiness. Moreover, a third key factor that plays into this relationship between embodiment and emptiness for Kūkai is language, for the body is the medium for communicating this dharma—that is, the truth of emptiness in its nonduality with embodiment.

Of Kūkai’s theoretical works, the ones providing expositions of Shingon cosmology, including the significance of embodiment, are 

  • On Becoming a Buddha in This Very Body (Sokushinjōbutsugi)
  • On the Meaning of Voice, Letter, and Reality (Shōjijissōgi); and 
  • On the Meaning of the Letter Hūṃ (Unjigi)

grouped together as the “Three Writings” (Sanbu- sho), all of which he composed in succession between 821 and 824. 

The first text explicates the concept of sokushinjōbutsu. The latter two explicate the concept of hosshin seppō. All of these “Three Writings” in fact deal with the embodied realization of the dharma— the truth—but from different perspectives. In the following, I discuss the role that embodiment plays in Kūkai’s system and its relationship to emptiness as explicated mainly in these three works

  Body

The concept of the body possesses a manifold and universal significance in Kūkai’s Buddhism. He explains the concept of the body (shin) in On Becoming a Buddha in This Very Body as referring to one’s own body, the bodies of other beings, sentient and otherwise. It can mean the entire cosmos as the “realm of the dharma” (Sk. Dharmadhātu; Jp. hokkai 法界), which in turn is identified as the body of the “Great Sun” Buddha (Sk. Mahāvairocana; Jp. Dainichi 大日) that personifies the “embodiment of the dharma” (Sk. Dharmakāya; Jp. hosshin 法身). The dharma (Jp. hō 法) here should be taken in the sense of the truth. It can also mean the various manifestations of this cosmic Buddha- body, the elements making up that cosmic body, as well as the various “bodies” involved in ritual practice symbolizing the dharma, such as the figures of Sanskrit letters (ji 字), the gestural symbols (in 印) of mudrās (Jp. ingei 印契; body-p ostures and hand- gestures), and maṇḍalas (Jp. mandara 曼荼羅; geometrical diagrams or patterns), as well as one’s expressive demeanor or countenance (gō 業).  These senses are all interrelated to comprise one cosmic webwork that in itself is the body of the Buddha Dainichi as the embodiment of the dharma— a universal medium allowing for the concretization of universal enlightenment. Thus, in On the Meaning of Voice, Letter, and Reality, Kūkai cites lines from the Avatamsaka Sūtra that “all lands are in the body of the Buddha,” or that “each hair [of the Buddha] contains myriad lands as vast as oceans.” We might understand “body” then to mean the very “stuff” of the world and of reality in general, including one’s self. That bodiliness of reality here is not limited to the physical but encompasses the mental as well. But it cannot be reduced to the mind. Kūkai’s philosophy in this respect is distinct from the “mind-o nly” (Sk. vijñāpti- mātra; Jp. yuishiki 唯識) doctrine of the Yogācāra school of Buddhism. For Kūkai, the mental and the material are equally interpenetrating aspects of the dharma. His perspective is neither merely idealist nor merely materialist but takes a third standpoint that integrates the material and the mental or spiritual as all “body.”

The cosmos as such— as Dainichi’s body and as embodying the dharma—i s made up of six universal elements (rokudai 六大): five material elements (earth, water, fire, air/ wind, and space) and consciousness or mind.  The Mahāvairocana sūtra (Jp. Dainichikyō 大日経) discusses the first five material elements, but to these Kūkai adds consciousness to underscore the nonduality of the material and the mental (shikishin funi 色心不

二).  Their dynamic but harmonious interplay constitute the “timeless yoga” or samadhi (jō 定) of Dainichi’s body-a nd- mind. The cosmic body (i.e., “body-a nd- mind”) as such embraces every thing-e vent in the cosmos as composed of these elements, interfused in different ways. It takes the figure of a mandala. In other words, its pattern in shape and movement is represented in the mandalas used in Shingon ritual.  The cosmos is a flowering of the dharma preached by Dainichi— this is the concept of “the embodiment of the dharma preaching the dharma” (hosshin seppō)— as it spreads out to beings receiving it in various degrees in accordance with their understanding. The mandala is the form this flowering takes. Correspondingly, the mind of the practitioner is also supposed to take on the form of a mandala through practice to realize its nonduality with the mandalic hosshin. In envisioning reality as a mandala, the practitioner realizes his own nature— in body and mind— as the Buddha existing in that mandalic reality and expressing itself in mandalic form. But this involves engagement of not the mind alone, but also of the body. All material bodies— each in its own way— manifest that cosmic embodiment of the dharma (hosshin). And it becomes manifest to greater degrees through one’s successful bodily practice and consequent enlightenment (i.e., “becoming Buddha”). Truth as such— the dharma— therefore cannot simply be what constitutes the mind alone. It comprises the material as well as the mental. It involves both mind and matter, knower and known, subject and object, as interdependent, nondual aspects of reality, always already encompassing and permeating everything, including the body- and- mind of each of us and constituting the body- and- mind of the Buddha Dainichi.  In summary, Kūkai reveals the nondual reality behind three kinds of apparent duality: the duality within each of us (mind-b ody), the duality in our relations with other things (mind- matter, subject- object, self- other), and the duality in our relations with the very cosmos wherein we exist (individual- universe).

Our own bodies (bodies- and- minds) are thus dynamically interrelated with the cosmos as a whole. Microcosmos and macrocosmos touch and mirror one another via the body. Embodiment in this sense is the medium or vehicle of our implacement within the greater body that is the universe, mediating our relationship to everything else. The function of the hosshin is equated with all movements and change that occur in the cosmos. And, as Dainichi expresses the dharma through his movements, the cosmos is also the place for his sermonizing of the dharma; in other words, “the dharma- embodiment’s dharma- preaching” (hosshin seppō). Kūkai categorizes such cosmic alterations, the functions of the hosshin, in three ways in terms of visible form (e.g., loco-m otion or change of place and transformation or change in shape), the audible (sound), and the mental (the thinking process). Visible alterations are movements of Dainichi’s body, audible alterations are movements of Dainichi’s speech, and mental alterations are movements of Dainichi’s thoughts. Together they are called the “three mysteries” (sanmitsu). The “three mysteries” are at work in all thing- events and are ultimately nondualistic with the corresponding movements of ourselves. In being bodily, we take part in the living body of Dainichi, in its cosmic interplay. We are always already participating in its movements in our mental states and in our bodily actions. Implaced within the cosmos, our individual bodies as microcosmic mirrors of the macrocosm thus serve as locales for the self-m anifestation of the cosmic Buddha. The body as such, both microcosmically and macrocosmically, is no mere dead matter— Körper in German— but rather alive, Leib. Rather than the corporeal body, it means the embodied existence of body- and- mind as a dynamic whole, embodiment as life. And such lived and living embodiment makes the experiential verification of our Buddha- nature (busshō 佛性), its realization, possible.

It is this significance of embodiment that leads Kūkai to recognize the inseparability of theoria and praxis. Kūkai’s major contribution to Japanese Buddhism, which filled a lack in Nara Buddhism, was to bridge the gap between doctrine and practice. He provided a systematic rationale for the esoteric rituals and explained the connections between text, ritual, and icon  previously left unexplained by the orthodox Nara schools. And he did this with his notion of embodiment in its multiple levels. On the basis of that theory, bodily praxis becomes essential for self-r ealization and, in this respect, possesses religious significance. Kūkai expresses this with his motto, “becoming a Buddha in this very body” (sokushinjōbutsu), which he explicates in On Becoming a Buddha in This Very Body. His claim is that the esoteric teachings of Shingon, as direct revelations from Dainichi himself expressing his enlightenment through the very “material” media of the world— hosshin seppō— enables the immediate realization of one’s own innate Buddhahood through one’s presently lived embodied existence. Kūkai here is referring to the Mahāyāna notion of “original enlightenment” (hongaku 本覚), the idea that all sentient beings have an original potential for enlightenment (Buddhahood) due to their inherent but unrealized Buddha- nature. But his understanding of enlightenment is distinct from what was taught in the orthodox Nara schools of Japanese Buddhism, according to which enlightenment involves a long and gradual process over countless eons of rebirths.

The idea of Buddha- nature goes back to the Mahāyāna doctrine of the tathāgatagarbha 

(Jp. nyoraizō 如来藏), the “womb of the realizer of suchness.” But the garbha here that means “womb” can also mean “matrix,” as well as “embryo” or “seed.” As the seed or womb for realizing reality (hence, enlightenment), it signifies the universal potential for Buddhahood. But as a matrix, the womb could also mean the very cosmos wherein we evolve and grow toward enlightenment. As a seed, the tathāgatagarbha is within each of us, but as the cosmic womb or matrix, we are within it. Kūkai thus connects this essential ambiguity with the notion that the cosmos itself is the body of Dainichi that we mirror in our own bodies. By drawing out the implications, Kūkai can thus explicitly connect the doctrine of “original enlightenment” with embodied existence itself, involving the bodily reciprocity among Buddha, man, and cosmos. That is to say that the potential for enlightenment is within one’s own body, which in turn is the microcosmic embodiment or expression of cosmic enlightenment itself. But, as such, one is also within the cosmic embodiment of enlightenment, the living cosmic body of Dainichi. Kūkai expresses this reciprocity with the expression, “Buddha enters me and I enter Buddha” (nyūga ganyū 入我我入).  As Dainichi preaches the dharma through all phenomena, we ourselves are the bodies through which this preaching takes place. This means precisely that we are enabled to realize the cosmic samadhi that our bodies-a nd- minds express. In this respect, the two exemplary concepts of Shingon Buddhism— hosshin seppō (“the embodiment of the dharma preaching the dharma”) and sokushinjōbutsu (“becoming a Buddha in this very body”)—a re nondual. The latter can then signify the realization of the universal Buddhahood of all beings, not only one’s self.  In these manifold ways, Kūkai reworks the traditional Mahāyāna notion of inherent Buddhahood so as to underscore the bodiliness involved in the nonduality among Buddha, cosmos, and sentient being.

That significance of the body, then, underlies Kūkai’s prescriptions of specific forms of ritual behavior as the technē for realizing the intermirroring of microcosm and macrocosm, self and Buddha. The practice involves a “symbolic mimesis” of the three modalities of the cosmos, through the “three acts” (sangō 三業) of our own body, speech, and mind: taking on certain bodily postures (especially involving mudra-m aking ), engaging in specific oral- verbal utterances (mantra- incantations, dhāraṇī- recitations ), and performing certain mental exertions (including yoga, samādhi- concentration, maṇḍala- visualization).  Thereby, Kūkai not only provides a coherent explanation of the relationship between theory and practice, but he also provides a concrete method for realizing through bodily experience original enlightenment. Kūkai’s elaborate system of ritual praxis underscores both the ontological and the epistemological significance of bodily interactivity with the environment and the nonduality between those ontological and epistemological senses. That is to say that in knowing through the body, one is through the body. The dharma reveals itself without end, but it is never unembodied, never without form,  and hence we must realize this through our embodiment.

  Emptiness

The body or materiality in general in Kūkai, however, cannot be understood in terms of substance. Rather, it must be underscored that the body for Kūkai—i nheriting the basic Mahāyāna concept of emptiness (Sk. śūnyatā; Jp. kū)— is empty of substantantility. Now the six elements comprising the cosmic body are said to be interdependent 

(rokudai engi 六大縁起, “codependent origination of the six universals”) and mutually nonobstructing (rokudai muge 六大無礙, “nonobstruction amongst the six universals”). Each element, as a microcosm of the macrocosm, manifests the very truth embodied in the cosmos. That truth or dharma, one might say, is the “suchness” (Sk. tathatā; Jp. nyojitsu 如実) of their interdependent origination (engi 縁起), which had already been equated by the Chinese Huayan (Jp. Kegon 華厳) and Tiantai (Jp. Tendai 天台) Buddhists with the emptiness of all. Because each thing is relative to, dependent upon, contingent to other things, nothing is substantial; that is, nothing is ontologically independent. Rather, as dependent, everything is empty. And the very elements that constitute each thing are themselves empty. The entire cosmic web of interdependence and mutual nonobstruction then means a cosmic emptiness— the absence of any substantiality to guarantee permanence or stability.  The cosmic body in this sense embodies the dharma qua emptiness, it is an embodiment of emptiness, an empty body. Moreover, that interdependence and mutual nonobstruction is not only horizontal, between the elements or bodies situated within the cosmos. It also obtains vertically between whole and part, Dainichi and beings. The whole is what it is in virtue of its parts, just as the parts are what they are in partaking of the whole. This entails microcosmic and macrocosmic correlativity. It is another way of putting the intermirroring of microcosmic and macrocosmic bodies. In mirroring each other, they are both equally as such and empty, desubstantialized and yet equally existing, and that is their dharma, the nonduality of suchness and emptiness. Although the hosshin is the embodiment of emptiness, it is nothing other than the physical, verbal, and mental forms of the cosmos.  Through such radical relationality, Kūkai treads a middle path that avoids the reification of individuals as substances as well as their absorption into a universal totality as a cosmic substance. And through the nonduality of emptiness and suchness, he treads a middle path that precludes any sort of reification or hypostatization, on the one hand, as well as any kind of annihilation into utter nothingness on the other.

In this respect, a proper comprehension of Kūkai’s nonsubstantialism as designated in the Mahāyāna concept of emptiness is a key to understanding his notion of embodiment. The body is significant, yet not to be reified, whether human or cosmic, material or ideal, as monistic whole or as isolated monad. For it is formed only in its interrelations and, as such, is empty of substance. Embodiment entails the cosmic webwork of interrelations, in vertical and horizontal correlativity, on both micro and macro levels. And dependent origination in Mahāyāna thought means the emptiness of substantiality (ontological independence). So the embodiment of the truth in the cosmos— hosshin qua hokkai— signifies a universal emptiness that permeates that cosmic body. The cosmic body’s essence is this cosmic emptiness. And that emptiness, in addition, means “vast space” for its graph also signifies space.15 The ontological ground of all beings is an empty space, an unground, that engulfs all. The cosmic body in its endless vastness is a space embracing everything, a space of nonobstruction, allowing for their emergence without obstruction via interdependence. The cosmic body as empty is an open space permitting interrelationships with others, in contrast to being a self- enclosed monad or solidity. In its emptiness, it makes room for the myriad beings of the world. Within it, everything is equally empty. And each bodily being implaced within this cosmic body- place, as its microcosmic mirror, is likewise an empty place allowing for its nonobstructed interrelations with other beings and with the cosmos itself. The cosmic body comprising interdependent thing- events embodies the dharma qua emptiness. In virtue of this embodied emptiness or empty bodiliness, man and Buddha and cosmos are hence nondual. The dharmic truth of emptiness as such is embodied everywhere. It is not abstract but concrete, embodied, even if empty. It is not simply transcendent as the truth preached by Dainichi to the world. For it is, in fact, immanent to the very world, embodied in the world as its emptiness, the interdependent origination of its elements. Kūkai thus reads the Prajñāpāramitā Heart Sutra’s maxim, “form is emptiness, emptiness is form,” to mean the embodiment of emptiness or the body as empty. The dharma as such entails the nonduality of emptiness and embodiment, nothing and being. This acknowledgment of concrete embodiment on the one hand and emptiness on the other hand is in the spirit of Mahāyāna, which treads the middle path avoiding substantialism and nihilism.

  Language

 

Kūkai’s theories of embodiment and emptiness cannot be divorced from his linguistic theory. Through the interdependent elements of the universe, the embodiment of truth, 

15 The same Chinese character 空 is used to designate both “emptiness” and “space.”

the hosshin, personified in the Buddha Dainichi, is continuously omnipresencing everywhere. Kūkai characterizes this as the hosshin’s expounding of the dharma— hosshin seppō. In virtue of the omnipresence of the dharma, everyone has the inherent ability to recognize the universal Buddha- nature within. All phenomena are true expressions of universal emptiness. On this basis, we can realize our original enlightenment. Kūkai claims in his Treatise on the Difference Between Esoteric and Exoteric Teachings (Benkenmitsu nikkyōron) that his own “esoteric” brand of Buddhism is based directly on that dharma preached by Dainichi,  a “sermon” that is happening through all phenomena, material and mental, through bodily, verbal, and mental media— configurations, resonances, and patterns—p ermeating the cosmos. That is to say that the sermon itself is the dynamic process involving the cosmos’ continual transformation. Kūkai explains how all thing-e vents serve as the “voice” of Dainichi’s preaching and as “letters” of his cosmic text. He expresses this in the term shōjijissō (声字実相) or “voice, letter, and reality,” which he explicates in his On the Meaning of Voice, Letter, and Reality (Shōjijissōgi). Shō (声), meaning “sound” or “voice,” is the breath of Dainichi, the vibrations of the five material elements in their interplay that resonate sounds through the air. Ji (字), meaning “sign,” “word,” “letter,” or “graph,” is sound in its signifying character as naming or meaning something. It provides the material base for fixing the sign’s distinction (shabetsu 差別) from other signs to specify its meaning. Every phenomenon of the cosmos, being empty of substantiality, is what it is through its interdependent origination. This also means that every thing— rocks, mountains, ants, and all— is what it is in mutual distinction with everything else. And this differentiation occurs vis- à- vis other thing-e vents in an endless chain of mutually referring (and differing) correlative thing- events. In reference to others and without substantial self- presence, each thing- event is hence empty. On this basis, all phenomena, as constituted by the intervibrations of the material elements and through their mutual distinctions, serve as letters of the cosmic (con)text, all signifying in different ways the dharma qua emptiness. The world itself, ordered into distinct and discrete things and events, thus emerges in the articulation of this dharmic text through mutual differentiations. And jissō (実相) means that “reality” is what is thus named, intended, meant, referred to, as evoked by shō becoming ji. The ultimate referent of the world as text is the dharma spontaneously embodied in the cosmos while serving as its source of reality and meaning.

The gist of Kūkai’s linguistic theory here is that the entirety of all beings is language, a symbolic expression of meaning in all things. The cosmos in that significance is the original cosmic body- text embodying the Dainichi- kyō (Mahāvairocana Sūtra), of which the Sanskrit text is only a derivative translation into human language. And the cosmos as such is one big cosmic mantra, as the monologue of the embodiment of the dharma— hosshin— preaching the dharma— hosshin seppō— of the suchness of things qua emptiness. In fact, it is an audiovisual text, a mantra in its significance and a mandala in its visual aspect. The mantra (shingon 真言) as used in Shingon practice symbolizes the vocalization of this cosmic sermon, immanent throughout the universe.  The language of this cosmic text requires deciphering, and, depending on how one “reads” that text or “hears” its sermon, the language of the cosmos can guide one to enlightenment or deceive one into delusion.  Its meaning can only be discerned through a religious practice that makes evident the dharma. Proper decipherment would involve the practitioner’s experiential realization of the Buddha’s threefold cosmic activities of body, speech, and mind— “the three mysteries” (sanmitsu)— through his own body, speech, and mind. 

Kūkai further explicates the linguistic or mantric significance of the dharma in terms of “primal nonorigination” (or “originally unborn,” honpushō 本不生), as designated specifically by the Sanskrit letter A. By “nonorigination” (or “unborn”), he means the “nonarising” aspect of the perpetually “born” and co-a rising thing-events; that is, their  emptiness and their differential referentiality that is without beginning or end.  It is the origin of all in their ongoing and beginningless dependent origination— their “origin of no origin.” Each thing- event, as a sign referring to the rest of the cosmic text, mirroring the infinity of all other mutually referring and differing thing-e vents and their emptiness, points to that primal nonorigination of all. The writing of the cosmic text—a  cosmogony qua cosmology— is not only ongoing but endless, continuously being reworked. Shingon ritual practice attempts to trigger the realization of that dharma through mantric pronunciations of Sanskrit syllables that emulate Dainichi’s utterance and attune the practitioner to the interresonance of the basic elements of the cosmos. Their incomprehension make explicit the materiality and dynamic process involved in the emergence of signs and undermines any linguistic assumption of the substantiality of things.  But, of these syllables, it is the first Sanskrit letter, A, that for Kūkai specifically symbolizes that primal nonoriginating character of all being qua emptiness. A stands for the Sanskrit words for “origin” (ādi) and for “unborn” (anutpāda), combined in the Sanskrit ādyanutpāda (Jp. honpushō) or “primal nonorigination.” The mantra A (aji shingon 阿字真言), as “the mother of all sounds,”  is thus taken to be the first sound uttered from Dainichi’s mouth.  The Sanskrit A is also a prefix expressing negation, annihilation, and nothingness, that would undo reification into substances. But A is also the source of all sounds, as suggested by its being the first letter of the Sanskrit alphabet. For the absence of substantiality, emptiness, is precisely the interdependent origination of all. The negative here is also positive. A, in that respect, represents the nonduality of emptiness and form, nothingness and being, or, put differently, embodied emptiness, empty bodies. In symbolizing the nonoriginating emptiness that would undo any reification anywhere, A also means the original enlightenment of the embodiment of the dharma (hongaku hosshin 本覚法身)— the Buddha- nature pervading everywhere— that we ourselves, all sentient beings, are endowed with. This gives us hope for the realization of the enlightenment of all. These manifold meanings are all combined in Shingon’s mantric use of A to represent the primal vocalization of the hosshin.

  Praxis

On the basis of the preceding discussion, we might summarize Kūkai’s philosophy with the basic point that the whole of being—t he entire cosmos—is a  body that embodies the truth and is, at the same time, a text that communicates that truth. It is a body made up of manifold bodies that likewise embody that truth and that serve as letters or symbols of that truth. And that truth or dharma it embodies and communicates is its emptiness and suchness via its interdependent origination with its constituent bodies, the primal nonorigination of all in their interreferentiality that criss- crosses the vertical and the horizontal dimensions. Implaced within this cosmic body, which is in fact a dynamic webwork, participating in its movements, its articulations of the dharma, we are all endowed with the originally enlightened body of truth (hongaku hosshin).  Buddhahood as such then is not something we achieve or attain, but that we rather realize as inherent to ourselves. This is the idea behind the Shingon practice of the “three acts” (sangō) of our body, speech, and mind—t aking certain bodily postures (e.g., mudra- making), engaging in specific oral-v erbal utterances (e.g., mantra-incantations),  and performing certain mental exertions (yoga, samādhi- concentration, focusing on Sanskrit letters, mandala- visualization, etc.)— as a “symbolic mimesis” of the three cosmic modalities of the auditory, the visual, and the mental.  Hence, “attaining Buddhahood in this very body” (sokushinjōbutsu) would mean precisely the realization of one’s inherent enlightenment through such bodily-a nd- mental mimesis, putting one’s own microcosmic body-a nd- mind in interresonance with the macrocosmic body- and- mind of the hosshin, to read correctly the cosmic text in its phonic, gestural, and graphic languages and discern the dharma. One thus realizes the empty mirror nature of one’s own body as embodying that dharma in mutual intermirroring with the “great mirror wisdom” of Dainichi,  whereby “Buddha enters me and I enter Buddha” (nyūga ganyū).  But if one can practice that “symbolic mimesis” in a natural setting, even outside of its usual ritualized context, “without form” (musō 無相) as opposed to “with form” (usō 有相), in one’s everyday movements, utterances, and thinking, one has come to truly spontaneously mirror the hosshin, realizing one’s nonduality with the truth one embodies. If the point of the practice of the “three acts” is to intentionally accord with, or interresonate with, Dainichi’s movements, to do the same unintentionally and spontaneously outside of the ritual context, but with the same awareness, would be an even higher level of realization.

Kūkai also expresses the dynamic correspondence between Buddha Dainichi and practitioner with the term kaji, meaning their “empowerment and retention.” The reference is to the mutual encounter between the Buddha’s compassion and the practitioner’s effort and aspiration. Ka (加), literally “addition” or “increase,” designates Dainichi’s compassionate power that pours down to illuminate like sunrays the practitioner’s mind. And ji (持), literally “retaining” or “holding,” designates the practitioner’s effort to retain and absorb that power like the illuminated water surface reflecting the sunlight. Shingon ritual bodily training is meant to express this bidirectionality, whereby the practitioner strives to ascend “upward” to meet Dainichi’s compassionate descent “downward.” The hosshin’s centrifugal preaching of the dharma (hosshin seppō) is to be met by the practitioner’s centripetal return to that dharmic source. As such, kaji also expresses the mutuality and correspondence obtained between hosshin seppō, descending from the summit and spreading out from the center, and sokushinjōbutsu, raising the practitioner from below and gravitating him toward the center, as two ways of conceiving from different angles the same interrelationality. But this is really a metaphorical way of expressing the single movement of intermirroring or interpermeation between the “three mysteries” (sanmitsu) of the macrocosmic body and the “three acts” (sangō) of the microcosmic body. That is, our own bodily, verbal, and mental activities are already expressions of the three mysteries of the hosshin. Kaji designates this realization that one’s self and activity is a microcosmic manifestation of the macrocosmic activity of the cosmos itself. In realizing the integration of the Buddha’s “three mysteries” and one’s own “three acts,” kaji entails an embodied and existential—r ather than merely intellectual— comprehension of the dharma, verifying the dharma the hosshin preaches in one’s own being. In Shingon praxis, one’s striving thus is the grace of the Buddha. The “always already” nonduality of these two directions of movement— up and down, centripetal and centrifugal, self-p ower and other-power—i s realized by degrees in en lightenment, whereby “Buddha enters me and I enter Buddha” (nyūga ganyū) and one “becomes Buddha.”28

  Conclusion

In summary, both emptiness and embodiment mean for Kūkai neither a reifying realism, whether monistically or atomistically, nor an annihilating nihilism. The body, for Kūkai, both microcosmically and macrocosmically is empty in the following senses: (1) as a medium of interrelationality and interdependent origination; (2) as nonsubstantial, 

28 See Kūkai 1972a, 230, 232; 1972b, 208, 212; 1983, 240–2 41, 245– 246; 1984, 26–2 7, 34.

without any self-c ontained essence that would obstruct its relations; and (3) as open and mutable, shaped through its interrelations. It cannot be reduced to mere material substantiality, but neither can it be reduced to a chimera of the mind. In this respect, he treads the Mahāyāna middle path that would avoid materialism on the one hand and idealism on the other. Moreover, that body, macrocosmically, is the text and, microcosmically, is the letters or signs communicating the meaning of that text, the dharma of emptiness that is the suchness of all. The universality of this embodied emptiness on both macrocosmic and microcosmic levels, mirroring one another, is what allows for the realization of this dharma; that is, for the realization of the nonduality between the preaching of the embodiment of the dharma (hosshin seppō), on the one hand, and one’s becoming enlightened in this very body (sokushin jōbutsu) on the other.

What relevance does Kūkai’s philosophy of the body as empty have for us today? Despite the common prejudice that would relegate Kūkai’s thinking to the realm of superstitious and magical religiosity, his thinking concerning embodiment and emptiness is in fact a wellspring of ideas that could be of interest to philosophers today. To recognize the fundamental significance of the body in its relation to the vaster body of the cosmos, both as living and lived rather than as dead matter, might open a vista to tackling the existential question of identity befalling contemporary humans in regard to their place in the world of difference and opposition. Miyasaka Yūshō, for example, regards Kūkai’s philosophy to be a “logic of integrative co- existence” (sōgōteki kyōson no ronri 綜合的共存の論理) that makes our multisided and comprehensive relationality evident, as opposed to a logic of power.29 It is precisely a standpoint of multisided integration that avoids the dichotomy of materialism and idealism and their mutual exclusion. Kūkai’s philosophy of embodied emptiness offers an alternative to the mind-b ody dualism that struggles to dislodge the self from the world or from the body. And it is also an alternative to the humans versus nature dualism that would set us apart from nature as its conqueror. The inadequacies of both types of dualism have already been made obvious by countless authors with the winding down of modernity. In showing our bodies to be ephemeral yet concrete media of intersection within the cosmic web, Kūkai’s thought can help turn us away from and provide an alternative to the hubris of modern subjectivity.



Bibliography and Suggested Readings

 

Abe, Ryūichi (1999). The Weaving of the Mantra: Kūkai and the Construction of Esoteric Buddhist Discourse. New York: Columbia University Press.

Gardiner, David (2008). “Metaphor and Mandala in Shingon Buddhist Theology,” Sophia: International Journal for Philosophy of Religion, Metaphysical Theology and Ethics 47(1): 43– 55.

Ingram, Paul O. (1993). “The Jeweled Net of Nature,” Process Studies 22(3): 134– 144.

29 Miyaska, Kūkai, 126.

Kasulis, Thomas (1988). “Truth Words: The Basis of Kūkai’s Theory of Interpretation.” In Buddhist Hermeneutics, edited by Donald S. Lopez, Jr. Honolulu: University of Hawaiʻi.

Kasulis, Thomas (1990). “Kūkai (774–8 35): Philosophizing in the Archaic.” In Myth and Philosophy, edited by Frank Reynolds and David Tracey. Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 257−272.

Kasulis, Thomas (1995). “Reality as Embodiment: An Analysis of Kūkai’s Sokushinjōbutsu and Hosshin Seppō.” In Religious Reflections on the Human Body, edited by Jane Marie Law. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 166– 185.

Kasulis, Thomas (2000). “Kūkai.” In Concise Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy. London: Routledge.

Krummel, John W. M. (2010). “Kūkai.” In Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. http:// plato. stanford.edu/ entries/ kukai/ 

Kūkai (1972a). Kūkai: Major Works Translated, with an Account of His Life and a Study of His Thought, translated by Yoshito Hakeda. New York: Columbia University Press.

Kūkai (1972b). “Kūkai’s Sokushin- jōbutsugi [Principle of Attaining Buddhahood with the Present Body],” translated by H. Inagaki. Asia Minor: A British Journal of Far Eastern Studies 17(2): 190– 215.

Kūkai (1973). Kōbō daishi Kūkai zenshū [Kōbō Daishi Kūkai Collected Works]. Vol. 1. Tokyo: Chikuma shobō.

Kūkai (1983). Kōbō daishi Kūkai zenshū [Kōbō Daishi Kūkai Collected Works]. Vol. 2. Tokyo: Chikuma shobō.

Kūkai (1984). Kōbō daishi Kūkai zenshū [Kōbō Daishi Kūkai Collected Works]. Vol. 4. Tokyo: Chikuma shobō.

Kūkai (1985). Sokushinjōbutsugi [Becoming a Buddha in This Very Body], translated into modern Japanese by Kanaoka Shūyō. Tokyo: Taiyō shuppan.

Kūkai (2004). On the Differences Between the Exoteric and Esoteric Teachings; The Meaning of Becoming a Buddha in This Very Body; The Meanings of Sound, Sign, and Reality; The Meanings of the Word Hûm; and The Precious Key to the Secret Treasury. In Shingon Texts, translated by Rolf W. Giebel. Berkeley, CA: Bukkyō Dendō Kyōkai and Numata Center for Buddhist Translation and Research.

Parkes, Graham (2013). “Kūkai and Dōgen as Exemplars of Ecological Engagement,” Journal of Japanese Philosophy 1: 85– 110.

Shaner, David Edward (1985). The Bodymind Experience in Japanese Buddhism: A Phenomenological Perspective of Kūkai and Dōgen. Albany, NY: SUNY Press.

Snodgrass, Adrian (1984– 86). “The Shingon Buddhist Doctrine of Interpenetration,” Religious Traditions: A Journal in the Study of Religion 7–9 : 53– 81.

Yamasaki, Taiko (1988). Shingon: Japanese Esoteric Buddhism, translated by Richard and Cynthia Peterson. Boston: Shambhala.

 


Amazon.com: Shingon Refractions: Myoe and the Mantra of Light: 9780861713905: Unno, Mark: Books

Amazon.com: Shingon Refractions: Myoe and the Mantra of Light: 9780861713905: Unno, Mark: Books


Shingon Refractions: Myoe and the Mantra of Light - Scribd


Shingon Refractions: Myoe and the Mantra of Light Paperback – June 9, 1997
by Mark Unno (Author)
4.8 out of 5 stars 9 ratings


Shingon Buddhism arose in the eighth century and remains one of Japan's most important sects, at present numbering some 12 million adherents. As such it is long overdue appropriate coverage. Here, the well-respected Mark Unno illuminates the tantric practice of the Mantra of Light, the most central of Shingon practices, complete with translations and an in-depth exploration of the scholar-monk Myoe Koben, the Mantra of Light's foremost proponent.

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==================================

Editorial Reviews

About the Author
Mark Unno teaches East Asian religions at the University of Oregon. He is on the editorial board of the Journal of Religious Ethics and the advisory board of Buddhist-Christian Studies. He has been the featured speaker at numerous conferences and academic venues on Asian Buddhism, Comparative Religion, Buddhism and Psychotherapy, and Buddhism in America. He lives in Eugene, Oregon.


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Publisher ‏ : ‎ Wisdom Publications; Later Printing edition (June 9, 1997)
Language ‏ : ‎ English
Paperback ‏ : ‎ 352 pages
4.8 out of 5 stars 9 ratings

Top reviews from the United States
Mathieu Goodwin
5.0 out of 5 stars Well written and readable
Reviewed in the United States on December 12, 2012
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A really well written exploration of Myoe and the Mantra of light. The text gives more than sufficient information for practical and theoretical use. It is comfortably academic without being stiff.
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Bryan
5.0 out of 5 stars major work on this subject
Reviewed in the United States on December 13, 2013
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work on disciple myoe and his doctrines on shingon buddhism. a great overview who's person is only second to kulkai
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Doug M
4.0 out of 5 stars An eye-opening look at Medieval Japanese Buddhism
Reviewed in the United States on September 16, 2006
The established view of the history of Japanese Buddhism, particularly the Kamakura Era, is one where stodgy old forms of Buddhism, such as Tendai and Shingon, become corrupt. Newer forms such as Zen and Pure Land Buddhism arise in revolt, and help to democratize Buddhism. This view is reinforced by many textbooks over the years.

Mark Unno, through very impressive scholarly research, sheds new light on this view and throws some elements into doubt. Through the historical monk, Myoe, Mr. Unno adds new dimensions to Kamakura Era Buddhism that were rarely understood in the West.

His coverage of this little-known is quite interesting, as well as his devotion to a Shingon practice called the Mantra of Light. Like his contemporary, Honen, Myoe tries to promote the Mantra of Light as an egalitarian practice, and helps to color a generally one-sided picture.

The first part of this book is quite fascinating, and taught me quite a bit about Kamakura Era Buddhism I didn't know, and helped dispel some persistent myths (notably lineages of various Japanese sects). Mr. Unno's research is impressive, and his argument sound.

The only down-side to this book was the second-half, where we read Myoe's own writings. Some of the writings were quite dry, and it would have helped either to summarize some points, or simply print exceprts instead of whole treatises.

Anyone who wishes to study Medieval Japanese Buddhism, or just Shingon/Kegon sects in general will find this book quite a good read. Newcomers to Buddhism may be intimidated however.

Enjoy!
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robin friedmanTop Contributor: Philosophy
VINE VOICE
4.0 out of 5 stars Illuminating an Ancient Mantra
Reviewed in the United States on December 27, 2004
An ancient Buddhist mantra, originating early in Buddhist history in India states "Praise be to the flawless,all-pervasive illumination of the great mudra [seal of the Buddha]. Turn over to me the jewel, lotus, and radiant light." As the use of this mantra developed, its recitation was frequently combined with a ritual involving the sprinkling of a pure grade of sand.

In "Shingon Refractions", Mark Unno, an assistant professor of East Asian Religions at the University of Oregon, has written an account of what was to me this little-known practice as it developed in Japanese Buddhism. As the title of the book suggests, the mantra was used in the Japanes school of Shingon Buddhism. Shingon is a Tantric, esoteric form of Buddhism akin to the Buddhism most Westerners associate with Tibet. Subsequent developments of Buddhism in Japan, including Zen, Pure Land, and Nichren, are generally more familiar to Westerners interested in Buddhism than is Shingon. But Shingon, Professor Unno teaches the reader, is a growing movement and the mantra of light has been adopted by Buddhists in many other traditions.

The principal character in Professor Unno's account is a monk of thirteenth-century Japan, Myoe Koben (1173-1232) who also had been unfamiliar to me. Myoe was a scholar-monk ordained in two different traditions of Japanese Buddhism. In the final years of his life, he became greatly interested in the mantra of light and wrote about it extensively. Translations of six of Myoe's writings are included in this book.

Professor Unno gives a brief account of the history of the mantra of light and an all-too-brief account of the various schools of Japanese Buddhism. He follows this introduction with a detailed account of how Myoe developed the mantra, and the use of the sand, and of the significance he attached to it. It is Professor Unno's account of the significance of the mantra that makes this book come alive for the modern reader. Professor Unno gives a distinctly modern cast to this ancient mantra. Unno describes how Myoe, ordained in two traditions, did not view any form of Buddhism dogmatically but rather saw each apparently competing tradition from the perspective of the Buddhist doctrine of emptyness. Myoe was an eclectic who drew from scriptures and practices of the different forms of Buddhism then arising in Japan, including both Zen and Pure Land, as well as the tantric practices of Shingon. Myoe did not tie his teachings to a specific human lineage, but instead went back to the Buddha and ultimately to the teaching of emptiness. He taught a form of Buddhism accessible to the learned and the ignorant, to the saint and to the sinner. His Buddhism stressed equality among persons and, in particular, expanded the role of women. Perhaps most importantly, Myoe taught a faith-based Buddhism emphasizing the importance, in a degenerate age, of faith in the Dharma. The mantra and the sand ritual were not magical acts but rather owned their force to the expressions of faith they conveyed. That is why Myoe was open to the use of other teachings, mantras, and practices which originated in faith.

Unno gives a good account of a difficult topic which was new to me and, I suspect, will be new to many Western students of Buddhism. He illuminates his discussion with quotations from Myoe and by comparisons between Myoe and other Buddhist and Taoist writers. He draws some modern analogies that had particular meaning for me -- such as in his story (pp. 82-83)of a young girl who hears a performance of a Beethoven piano sonata and is inspired to persevere with diligence and faith over the years to master the instrument. This faith and perseverence to learn the piano after becoming aware of a distant goal -- playing Beethoven -- is analogized beautifully to faith in the Dharma.

Some of the translations of Myoe's works helped me with this book, particularly the essay "Recommending Faith in the Sand of the Mantra of Light" and the "Chronicle of Things Not to be Forgotten", the latter prepared by a student of Myoe. Some of the other Myoe texts were too detailed and difficult for one coming to the subject for the first time.

Professor Unno has written an insightful if difficult study of an area of Buddhism that seemed to me highly remote. More develpment of background of Japanese Buddhism and of the mantra itself would have been welcome. I couldn't avoid thinking, as I read this book, that Professor Unno was gearing his presentation to appeal to the needs and predelictions of modern Westerners who try to follow the Dharma in the United States. This is certainly an appropriate way to frame a historical account, but I found at times that Professor Unno was more interested in contemporary Buddhist practice than in a historical exposition of the mantra of light.

This book is not suitable for the casual reader or for those coming to Buddhism for the first time. It will appeal to readers with some familiarity with and feeling for Buddhism and the Dharma.
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