Dogen and the Wild Fox - Shobogenzo Dai-Shugyo - Great Practice

Shobogenzo, Dai-Shugyo; Dogen’s evolutionary, unique, and inspirational treatment of the classic koan Hyakujo and the Wild Fox.

Dogen begins in the traditional manner of quoting the koan in full:

When Zen Master Daichi of Hyakujo-zan mountain in Koshu gives informal instruction, an old man is generally present. He always listens to the Dharma along with the monks, and when the assembly retires, the old man also retires. Then unexpectedly one day he does not leave. The Master eventually asks him, "What person is this, standing before me?"

The old man answers, "I am not a person. In the past age of Kasyapa Buddha, used to live [as master] on this mountain. Once a practitioner asked me, ‘Do even people in the state of great practice fall into cause and effect, or not?’ I answered, ‘They do not fall into cause and effect./s Since then I have fallen into the body of a wild fox for five hundred lives. Now I beg you, Master, to say for me a word of transformation. I long to be rid of the body of a wild fox." Then he asks, "Do even people in the state of great practice fall into cause and effect, or not?

The Master says, "Do not be unclear about cause and effect." At these words the old man immediately realizes the great realization. He does prostrations and says, "I am already rid of the body of a wild fox, and would like to remain on the mountain behind this temple. Dare I ask the Master to perform for me a monk’s funeral ceremony."

The Master orders the supervising monk to strike the block and to tell the assembly, "After the meal, we will see off a deceased monk."

All the monks discuss this among themselves, saying, "The whole community is at ease and there is no sick person in the Nirvana Hall. What is the reason for this?" After the meal, the Master is seen leading the monks to the foot of a rock on the mountain behind the temple, and picking out a dead fox with a stick. They cremate it according to the formal method. In the evening the Master gives formal preaching in the Dharma Hall and discusses the preceding episode.

Obaku then asks, "The man in the past gave a mistaken answer as a word of transformation, and fell into the body of a wild fox for five hundred lives. If he had not made any mistake at any moment, what would he have become?"

The Master says, "Step up here. I will tell you."

Obaku finally steps up and gives the Master a slap. The Master claps his hands and laughs, and says, ‘"You have just expressed that a foreigner’s beard is red, but it is also a fact that a red-beard is a foreigner."

The central question of this koan asks if experiencing enlightenment delivers one from the realm of causation. It is the same question that forms the dichotomy between determinism and freewill. Are we free to choose, or is our course determined by causes and conditions beyond our control? Do enlightened beings act freely, or are they bound by the iron law of karma?

Buddhist doctrine declares that with enlightenment we transcend cause and effect (karma). At the same time, the law of cause and effect is held as absolutely unbending; all actions—good or bad—result in exacting effects. Zen has dealt with this question in a number of ways, most decisively with what may be the highest achievement of koan literature besides Joshu’s "Mu," the story of Hyakujo and the wild fox.

The koan realized just now is great practice itself.

"Great practice" in this classic koan is practice-and-enlightenment. "The koan realized just now is great practice itself." Realizing (making real) the wild fox koan right now is great practice itself, is enlightenment itself.

As the old man says, Hyakujo mountain in Koshu exists in the past age of Kasyapa Buddha, and Hyakujo mountain in Koshu exists in the present age of Sakyamuni Buddha.

"Hyakujo mountain" is the name of the mountain where Hyakujo (the teacher) teaches. The Zen ancestors usually took the name of the place where they taught; hence, there would often be a succession teachers with the same name. "Kasyapa Buddha" is one of the seven ancient Buddhas of the past age, that is the mythological age before the present age of the historical "Sakyamuni Buddha." Kasyapa Buddha is also know as the teacher of Shakyamuni Buddha.

This is a real word of transformation.

A "word of transformation" (usually referred to as a "turning word") is a word or action by a Zen teacher, which provokes insight in a student. What Dogen is calling, "a real word of transformation" is the phrase used by "the old man" in the previous line, i.e. "Hyakujo mountain in Koshu exists in the past age of Kasyapa Buddha, and Hyakujo mountain in Koshu exists in the present age of Sakyamuni Buddha." Dogen is affirming the wisdom expressed by the words of the old man, and inviting his listeners to recognize that wisdom too.

Even so, the Hyakujo mountain of the past age of Kasyapa Buddha and the Hyakujo mountain of the present age of Sakyamuni Buddha are not one.

Dogen here points out that yesterday’s Hyakujo mountain, is not today’s Hyakujo mountain. Each abides in its own unique particularity, like the "ash" and "firewood" in Genjokoan.

Neither are they different.

The Hyakujo mountain of the past age has a past and a future; in its future is the present Hyakujo mountain. The Hyakujo mountain of the present age has a past and a future; in its past is the Hyakujo mountain of the past. Each contains and is contained by the other. In the words of the Genjokoan, "When one side (one mountain) is illumined, the other side (the other mountain) is darkened."

They are not three and three before, and not three and three after.

Here is an instance where Dogen uses one classic koan to clarify a point in another. The koan he uses is Case 35 of The Blue Cliff Record, which reads:

Manjusri asked Wu Cho, "Where have you just come from?"
Wu Cho said, "The South."
Manjusri said, "How is the Buddhist Teaching being carried on in the South?"
Wu Cho said, "Monks of the Last Age have little regard for the rules of discipline."
Manjusri said, "How numerous are the congregations?"
Wu Cho said, "Some three hundred, some five hundred."
Wu Cho asked Manusri, "How is it being carried on hereabouts?"
Manjusri said, "Ordinary people and sages dwell together; dragons and snakes intermingle."
Wu Cho said, "How numerous are the congregations?"
Manjusri said, "In front, three by three; in back, three by three."
(Thomas Cleary & J.C. Cleary)

Though there are layers of subtle wisdom here, the main point that Dogen seems to emphasize in his abbreviated usage is the futility of using any number to enumerate or define the ineffable nature of ultimate reality. In other words, the Hyakujo mountain of the past and present ages are not two, not one, nor do they correspond to any conceptual formulation or non-formulation "In front, three by three; in back, three by three."

The Hyakujo mountain of the past has not become the Hyakujo mountain of the present. The present Hyakujo mountain was not formerly the Hyakujo mountain of Kasyapa Buddha’s time.

To illustrate this point, we can re-phrase it in the terms of the "ash" and "firewood" of Genjokoan: "The Hyakujo mountain of the past becomes the Hyakujo mountain of the present; it can never go back to being the Hyakujo mountain of the past. Nevertheless, we should not take the view that the present Hyakujo mountain is its future and the past Hyakujo mountain is its past. Remember, the Hyakujo mountain of the past abides in the place of the past Hyakujo mountain in the Dharma. It has a past and it has a future. Although it has a past and a future, the past and the future are cut off. The Hyakujo mountain of the present exists in the place of the present Hyakujo mountain in the Dharma. It has a past and it has a future. The Hyakujo mountain of the past, after becoming the Hyakujo mountain of the present, does not again become the Hyakujo mountain of the past... This is why we speak of no appearance… This is why we speak of no disappearance. The Hyakujo mountain of the past is an instantaneous situation, and the present Hyakujo mountain is also an instantaneous situation. It is the same, for example, with winter and spring. We do not think that winter becomes spring, and we do not say that spring becomes summer."

Even so: there is the [old man’s] pronouncement that "I used to live on this mountain"; the [old man’s] teaching for the practitioner is akin to the teaching of the present Hyakujo for the old man; and the question which once a practitioner asked is akin to the question that the old man asks now.

The words, "Even so" that appear at the beginning of this section should be read as, "Similarly." That is to say that the old man’s pronouncement, and the old man’s teaching are akin (related) to the teaching of the present Hyakujo in the same way as the "firewood" and "ash" of the Genjokoan are akin. The same applies to the question which once a practitioner asked and the question that the old man asks now. In other words, Dogen is pointing out that each thing, moment, or event is at once unique in its particularity and, at the same time, equal in its emptiness (oneness).

When doing one thing, it is impossible to do another; if we neglect the first move, we will be floored at the second.

Here, Dogen quotes the words from a past master (Kenpo, Rento-eyo, chap.23) to amplify the simultaneous noninterference and interpenetrating aspects of each thing, time, and event. The noninterference of each thing is seen in its particular and unique "Dharma position" (place in the universe), with past and future cut off ("when doing one thing, it is impossible to do another"). The interpenetrating nature of each thing is seen in its interdependence with everything else ("if we neglect the first move, we will be floored at the second").

The practitioner of the past asks, "Do even people in the state of great practice on the Hyakujo mountain of the past fall into cause and effect or not?"

Notice the subtle rewording that Dogen applies to the original question here, adding the words, "on the Hyakujo mountain of the past." Dogen applies this technique (the subtle rewording or rephrasing of a text) throughout his works, often with extraordinary effect. The most famous instance of this is in his essay Bussho, where the conventional reading of the line in the Mahaparinirvana Sutra; "All sentient beings possess Buddha-nature without exception" becomes; "All existence is Buddha-nature." This creative misreading presents a startling, and much more inclusive meaning than the conventional reading.

His reason for rewording the present question will become clearer as we proceed.

This question should certainly not be understood easily or in haste.

Dogen exhorts us to examine the question meticulously, avoiding the tendency to bypass the subtler wisdom within the question by assuming the "easy" or "hasty" conventional meaning. Each phrase, and even each word, as with all particular things, times, and events take on ultimate significance for Dogen. As he indicates in Genjokoan, "The whole moon and the whole sky are reflected in a dew-drop on a blade of grass and are reflected in a single drop of water." Similarly, all of time and space are "reflected" in a single phrase and "reflected" in a single word.

The reason [I say so] is that for the first time since the Buddha-Dharma spread east during the Later Han era of Eihei, and since the ancestral Master came from the west during the Liang era of Futsu, due to the words of the old wild fox, we hear the question of the practitioner of the past. It had never existed previously. So we can say that it is rarely heard.

Dogen calls us to consider the fact that the "past" in which "the practitioner of the past" asked his question, was the time of Kasyapa Buddha. Kasyapa Buddha’s time is mythological time, that is, the timeless realm of eternity. Because of the "words of the old wild fox," a unique particular, non-repeatable aspect of the universe (the Buddha-Dharma) is revealed to us. Like each thing, time, and event, the "question of the practitioner of the past" is an absolutely, and utterly unique aspect of the Buddha-Dharma, and "To learn the Buddha-Dharma is to learn ourselves." (Genjokoan)

When we have groped for and grasped great practice, it is just great cause-and-effect itself.

Through spiritual practice and study, "we have groped for and grasped (realized) great practice (practice-and-enlightenment)." This groping and grasping (practice and realization) is "great cause-and-effect itself." This is a startling declaration. Dogen seems to be asserting that the act of transcending karma, or causation (through practice and enlightenment) is itself the action of karma. This would be similar, in western terms, to stating that the act of exercising freewill is itself the action of determinism.

Because this cause-and-effect is always the round fulfillment of causes and the complete fulfillment of effects, it has never accommodated discussion of falling or not falling and has never accommodated words of being unclear or not being unclear.

What is being called "cause-and-effect" (causation) is one aspect of all space and time (the round fulfillment of causes and the complete fulfillment of effects). Because it includes all space and time, all causes and effects, it cannot be adapted, obliged, or contained (accommodated) by any one-sided view (falling or not falling, being unclear or not being unclear). In terms of the Genjokoan, Dogen is saying, "when falling or being unclear is illumined, not falling or not being unclear is darkened." That is to say when we posit one side, we become blind to the other side.

If "They do not fall into cause and effect," is a mistake, "Do not be unclear about cause and effect" might also be a mistake.

Here, Dogen presents the logical conclusion of his previous point; if we take one side as "false" (and the opposite as true), both views become false. This is similar to the discussion earlier about Joshu and his responses to the Buddha-nature of a dog; one time he answered, "No" another time, "Yes." If either response is taken as the literal, absolute truth, the opposite is seen as false. In such an approach, both statements lose their validity.

Even when mistakes are put in their place as mistakes, there is falling into the body of a wild fox, and there is getting free of the body of a wild fox.

Dogen again reveals his mastery of language; even when mistakes are recognized as mistakes (like one-sidedness), there is still the truth of "Yes" and "No" (there is falling into the body of a wild fox, and there is getting free of the body of a wild fox). Like in the opening lines of Genjokoan, "When all dharmas are the Buddha-Dharma, then there is (falling into the body of a wild fox)…When the myriad dharmas are each not of the self, there is no (falling into the body of a wild fox)… The Buddha’s truth is…transcendent over abundance and scarcity, and so there is (falling into the body of a wild fox)."

There is also a principle whereby "They do not fall into cause and effect," though a mistake in the age of Kasyapa Buddha is not a mistake in the age of Sakyamuni Buddha. Though in the present age of Sakyamuni Buddha "Do not be unclear about cause and effect" gets rid of the body of a wild fox, in the age of Kasyapa Buddha a different principle may be realized.

With this statement, Dogen begins his explication on the difficult to grasp truth of the simultaneous existence of "the one" and "the many" in regards to mistakes or, right and wrong. Not only do the one and the many exist in non-interference, but also each of the many things exists without hindering each other. "Yes" and "No" are both correct without canceling each other out.

Something that is "a mistake" in one instance, is not "a mistake" in another instance. That is to say, from the (one-sided) perspective of equality, or emptiness there are no-things hence, no mistakes. While, at the same time, from the (one-sided) perspective of differentiation, each mistake is a real mistake (the whole universe is coming forth as that particular mistake). There is also the fact that a "mistake" at one time or place may not be a "mistake" at another time or place. In Shobogenzo, Shoaku-Makusa, Dogen discusses this topic:

In wrongs, there are similarities and differences between wrong in this world and wrong in other worlds. There are similarities and differences between former times and latter times. There are similarities and differences between wrong in the heavens above and wrong in the human world. How much greater is the difference between moral wrong, moral right, and moral indifference in Buddhism and in the secular world.

Ultimate reality is finally beyond defining in even the most eloquent of expressions. Language can direct us, and tell us what reality is like however, as in the words of the Genjokoan, "though it is like this, it is only that flowers, while loved, fall; and weeds while hated, flourish." All words, ideas, and concepts about reality have their source in reality. That is to say that words, ideas, and concepts are reality; reality is not words, ideas, and concepts. In the same essay, Shobogenzo, Shoaku-Makusa, Dogen explains this in terms of "Time" or, "Dharma" (reality), and "right and wrong:"

Right and wrong are Time; Time is not right or wrong. Right and wrong are the Dharma; the Dharma is not right or wrong. [When] the Dharma is in balance, wrong is in balance. [When] the Dharma is in balance, right is in balance. This being so, when we learn [the supreme state of] anuttara-samyak-sambodhi {full enlightenment}, when we hear the teachings, do training, and experience the effect, it is profound, it is distant, and it is fine.

In the old man’s words, "Since then I have fallen into the body of a wild fox for five hundred lives," what is this falling into the body of a wild fox? It is not that a wild fox which existed already lures in the former Hyakujo. And it is impossible for Hyakujo originally to be a wild fox. The assertion that the soul of Hyakujo leaves him and forces itself into the skin of a wild fox is non-Buddhism; and a wild fox cannot come up a suddenly swallow the former Hyakujo.

Dogen wants us to be meticulous in our examination of these words, which "are rarely heard." The layers of wisdom contained in this koan will only yield itself up under intense scrutiny. In the state of nonthinking, under the light of our Observing Prajna, we deeply contemplate each line, each word: "what is this falling into the body of a wild fox?"

If we say that the former Hyakujo subsequently changes into a wild fox, he must first get rid of the body of the former Hyakujo, so that he may then fall into the body of a wild fox. A [master] of Hyakujo mountain can never be replaced by the body of a wild fox!

Here the example from Genjokoan about "firewood" and "ash" can shed some light on Dogen’s point. If we say that the former firewood changes into ash, the former firewood must first get rid of the body of former firewood, so that it could become ash. Firewood does not become ash, like spring does not become summer.

How could cause-and-effect be like that? Cause-and-effect is neither inherent nor initiated: cause-and-effect never idly waits for a person.

Dogen’s phrase, "Cause-and-effect is neither inherent nor initiated" reminds us of Dogen’s resolution of the dichotomy between "sudden enlightenment" (inherent enlightenment) and "gradual cultivation" (initiated enlightenment). Cause-and-effect, like practice-and-enlightenment, is not one, not two. Cause is only cause as cause-and-effect; effect is only effect as cause-and-effect. Cause is not effect, effect is not cause; there is just cause-and-effect. Like in the koan about the master using a fan in Genjokoan, the "fanning" (cause) and the "presence of air" (effect) are two perspectives of a single reality.

Even if the response, "They do not fall into cause and effect," is wrong, [the respondent] may not always fall into the body of a wild fox. If falling into the body of a wild fox were the inevitable karmic result of mistakenly answering a practitioner’s question, then the Rinzais and Tokuzans of recent times, together with their followers, would have fallen into how many thousands and tens of thousands of wild foxes? Aside from them, the unreliable old veterans of the last two or three hundred years would be countless wild foxes. Yet none are heard to have fallen into wild foxes. So many [wild foxes] would be more than enough to see and hear. You may say that they have not made such a mistake, but in fact there have been very many outlandish and confused answers much worse than "They do not fall into cause-and-effect. Those who cannot even be placed on the periphery of the Buddha-Dharma are indeed many.

Dogen, for the sake of clarification states that even if we did grant that the response in this particular instance is wrong, it does not mean that the effect (of cause-and-effect) is always the same. Cause-and-effect, being the dynamic ongoing action of the universe itself (as is practice-and-enlightenment), does not follow a static, simplistic set of rules discernible by the human intellect. Nor can human beings magically create, manifest, or master it by sitting in a special posture. If it was just that simple, it would be obvious to all by the countless wild foxes covering the earth as the result of the multitudinous false Rinzais and Tokuzans (imitators).

We should know them with the Eye of learning in practice—unless equipped with the Eye, we cannot tell them apart.

The "Eye of learning in practice" (Observing Prajna), not through the human intellect or our physical posture, is the only way to discern the true significance of cause-and-effect.

In conclusion, we should never say that as a result of answering badly [a person] becomes the body of a wild fox, or as the result of answering well [a person] does not become the body of a wild fox.

Dogen drives the point home; we should not get caught up in simplistic notions concerning causation and think that a particular "cause" always leads to the same, predictable "effect." In other words, we must be equipped with the "Eye of learning in practice" (Observing Prajna), not a formula, special posture, or set of rules if we are to act in accordance with the reality of causation.

This story does not say what the state is like after getting rid of the body of a wild fox, but presumably, wrapped in a bag of skin, there might be a pearl.

Though the koan does not explicitly say what it means to get "rid of the body of a wild fox," Dogen indicates that even the body of a wild fox may be infused with Buddha-nature (wrapped in a bag of skin, there might be a pearl).

Contrary to this view, people who have never seen and heard the Buddha-Dharma say: "When we have completely got free of a wild fox, we return to the essential ocean of original enlightenment. As a result of delusion, we fall into the life of a wild fox for awhile, but when we realize the great enlightenment we discard the body of a wild fox and return to original essence." This is the non-Buddhist theory of returning to the original self; it is not the Buddha-Dharma at all.

The deluded view outlined here by Dogen is akin to popular contemporary teachings to "grind down" the "small self," detach from the world of differentiation, and dwell in pure awareness. This wrong notion assumes that "delusion" consists of all the human charachteristics that arise from differentiation—love and hate, joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain, compassion and selfishness, trust and fear, etc. And that if we can just get rid of all that (when we have completely got free of a wild fox), we would return to "original enlightenment." Dogen says that this view "is not the Buddha-Dharma (Buddhist truth) at all."

If we say that a wild fox is not the original essence and that there is no original enlightenment in a wild fox, that is not the Buddha-Dharma.

Dogen’s teaching about the Buddha-Dharma in Genjokoan, "The whole moon and the whole sky are reflected in a dew-drop on a blade of grass and are reflected in a single drop of water" asserts that "original enlightenment" (the whole moon and sky) must be reflected even in a wild fox. Dogen’s understanding that, "Realization does not break the individual, just as the moon does not pierce the water," testifies to the fact that enlightenment does not get rid of the body of a wild fox (break the individual). And that the wild fox does not exist outside of original enlightenment ("The individual does not hinder the state of realization, just as a dew-drop does not hinder the sky and moon). Therefore, to "say that a wild fox in not the original essence and that there is no original enlightenment in a wild fox" is not the Buddha-Dharma, as far as Dogen is concerned.

If we say that when we realize the great enlightenment we have departed from and discarded the body of a wild fox, then it would not be the wild fox’s great enlightenment, and we would make the wild fox serve no purpose. We should never say so.

To assert that realizing great enlightenment occurs when the individual person departs from the "small self" (discards the body of a wild fox) would be to deny the individual’s great enlightenment. That would be similar to saying that when Dogen realized great enlightenment, Dogen was no longer Dogen. If that was the case then the Dogen that lived and practiced up to the point of great enlightenment served "no purpose."

[The story] says that by virtue of a word of transformation from the present Hyakujo, the wild fox which the past Hyakujo has been for five hundred lives suddenly gets free of a wild fox. We should clarify this principle.

Dogen gives us his constant advice: "We should clarify this principle." We should take up this koan and personally clarify this principle. Dogen has laid out the tools and given us some directions on how to approach it, now it is up to us to clarify the truth of this koan directly. For only when we have calmly and profoundly probed and contemplated this expression, under the light of Observing Prajna will its wisdom truly be transmitted to us. Nevertheless, Dogen cannot resist the impulse to try to offer us more guidance in discovering the treasure contained in this koan by showing us the weakness of some of the more common fallacies associated with it.

If we assert that, "When a bystander speaks a word of transformation, a bystander frees others from the body of a wild fox," then the mountains, the rivers, and the Earth have been speaking countless words of transformation since the past, and those many words of transformation have been repeated again and again. But in the past [the old man] has not got free of the body of a wild fox. He gets free of the body of a wild fox under a word of transformation from the present Hyakujo. This [assertion] casts deadly doubt upon the ancestor.

The reasoning that Dogen applies in this passage could be read as a design for considering the various points of this koan under the Buddha-Eye or, Observing Prajna. Here, and in some of the following passages, Dogen shows how the wisdom contained within the koan can be gradually approached through analyzing and discarding faulty reason. The truth of the koan becomes clearer as wrong views are eliminated. In this passage, the reasoning that though exposed to "words of transformation" in the past, "the old man" was not freed Dogen eliminates the wrong notion that "When a bystander speaks a word of transformation, a bystander frees others from the body of a wild fox." To make the assertion (about the transformative words of a bystander) in the face of this logic would cast "deadly doubt upon the ancestor" (deny his authentic realization).

And if we assert that, "The mountains, rivers and the Earth have never spoken words of transformation," then the present Hyakujo might ultimately lack the means to open his mouth.

Dogen anticipates the objection to his logic based on an argument about the ability of mountains, rivers, and Earth to speak words of transformation. Such an objection is concerned with the letter rather then the intention of the words, and thereby misses the point. At that level, he says, we might as well argue about the ability of the "present Hyakujo" to even open his mouth.

Furthermore, many past masters through the ages have vied to assert that the expressions not falling into and not being unclear about [cause and effect] are equally valid. But if they have never attained bodily experience of not falling into and not being unclear about [cause and effect] within the stream of those very words, they consequently neither experience the skin, flesh, bones, and marrow of falling into the body of a wild fox, nor experience the skin, flesh, bones, and marrow of getting rid of the body of a wild fox. If the head is not right, the tail is never right.

Along similar lines as the previous passage, Dogen asserts the necessity of authentic practice and enlightenment in asserting any point about this (or any) koan. Without the actual experience (skin, flesh, bones, and marrow of falling into the body, or getting rid of the body of a wild fox) of becoming intimate with the wisdom of this koan, any assertion about it will miss the point. If our experience is not authentic, our expression cannot be authentic (If the head is not right, the tail is never right).

In the old man’s words "Since then I have fallen into the body of a wild fox for five hundred lives," just what is the subject that falls and just what is the object that is fallen into? In the very moment of falling into the body of a wild fox, what form and grades does the Universe that has continued from the past have in the present? Why should the series of words do not fall into cause and effect result in five hundred repetitions? As for the one pelt of skin that is now at the foot of a rock on the mountain behind the temple, from what concrete place should we think that it has been able to come?

In these words, Dogen points out cracks where we might be able to get a toehold on this rock-wall of a koan. It is as if Dogen is saying, "Shine the light of your Observing Prajna here, don’t forget to look over there." What is the subject that falls? And what is the object that is fallen into? In that moment, what form and grades does the universe have? Why should the series of words, "does not fall into cause and effect" have the effect of five hundred lives as a fox? Where has the "one pelt of skin" (the dead fox) come from? Patiently applying ourselves to these points of the koan, we may discover the knot beginning to loosen.

To say "They do not fall into cause and effect" is to fall into the body of a wild fox, and to hear "Do not be unclear about cause and effect" is to get free of the body of a wild fox.

In this line, Dogen blows the whole koan wide open for us. When we realize the point here, the rest of the points in this koan become completely clear.

Even though there are instances of falling in and getting free, they are just the cause-and-effect of the wild fox.

Having discerned the main point of this koan, we may be tempted to think that we have mastered the reality of causation, karma, determinism, and freewill. When we intimately grasp the truth that cause is effect, determinism is freewill, we have reason to rejoice, however, that is not the end of the truth of cause-and-effect, but the beginning. With the realization of the absolute freedom from causation comes the realization of absolute accountability to causation.

The freedom from cause-and-effect that results from "great practice" (enlightenment) is the realization of our identity as cause-and-effect itself (all of time and space). In other words, when we awaken to our true nature, there is no self that could be a "subject" to anything, including causation. In Genjokoan this was stated as, "When the myriad dharmas are each not of the self, there is no delusion and no realization, no buddhas and no ordinary beings, no life and no death." In addition, we would add, in the context of the fox koan, no cause-and-effect.

Yet, as the Genjokoan also declares, "The Buddha’s truth is originally transcendent over abundance and scarcity, and so there is life and death, there is delusion and realization, there are beings and buddhas." Hence, there is cause-and-effect.

Nevertheless, since ancient times people have said: "Because they do not fall into cause and effect is an expression which seems to refute cause and effect, [the speaker] falls down." This assertion is without reason; it is the assertion of people who are in the dark. Even if the former Hyakujo has occasion to say "They do not fall into cause and effect," he has the state in which it is impossible for the great practice to delude others, and it is impossible for him to refute cause and effect.

Although the reality of the infinite universe includes both sides of the coin, as Dogen has masterfully illustrated in his treatment of this koan, people continue to choose one side over the other. Dogen says it is because such people are "in the dark." To shed light for such people, he directs our attention to the "state" of the former Hyakujo. The former Hyakujo is cause-and-effect itself; how would it be possible for him to refute cause and effect? He is great practice itself; therefore, it is impossible for him to delude "others" (there are no others).

Alternatively it is said: "The meaning of do not be unclear about cause and effect, in other words, not being ignorant of cause and effect, is that because great practice is transcendent cause-and-effect itself, it gets rid of the body of a wild fox." Truly, this is eighty or ninety percent realization of the eyes of learning in practice.

Dogen now challenges another "wrong" view that is sometimes asserted concerning this koan. That is the view that declares that "one gets rid of the body of a wild fox when one is enlightened to the fact that "great practice" (freedom from causation) is "transcendent cause-and-effect itself." This view is harder to let go of precisely because it is so close to the truth. Dogen says, "this is eighty or ninety percent realization." That is very close to one hundred percent, but not quite right, so he presents a verse:

At the same time:

In the Time of Kasyapa Buddha,
[We] have lived on this mountain.
In the Time of Sakyamuni Buddha,
[We] are living on this mountain.
Former body and present body,
The faces of the sun and the faces of the moon,
Shut out the ghost of a wild fox,
And manifest the ghost of a wild fox.

"In the Time of Kasyapa Buddha, we have lived on this mountain." In the mythological time of Kasyapa Buddha (the eternal past, present, and future), "we (you-and-I) have lived on this mountain." This is the realm of the absolute, of oneness, emptiness, and equality.

"In the Time of Sakyamuni Buddha, we are living on this mountain." In the present moment of Sakyamuni Buddha (right here, right now), "we (you and I) are living on this mountain." This is the realm of the relative, of differentiation, particularity, and variety.

"Former body and present body, The faces of the sun and the faces of the moon" (the absolute and the relative). "Shut out the ghost of a wild fox" (do not fall into cause and effect). "And manifest the ghost of a wild fox" (at the same time, are not ignorant of cause and effect)."

How could a wild fox know its life for five hundred lives?

Here Dogen gives us another clue about where to apply Observing Prajna.

When someone says that a wild fox knows five hundred lives by using a wild fox’s intelligence, then the wild-fox-intelligence has not yet completely known the facts of one life, and a life has not yet rammed into a wild fox’s skin.

Dogen denies the possibility of a wild fox knowing five hundred lives by merely using a wild fox’s intellect. We saw Dogen’s understanding of this principle in Genjokoan where he said, "Do not assume that what is attained will inevitably become self-conscious and be recognized by the intellect." If someone were to assert that the fox could know it through intellect, that would demonstrate that the "wild-fox-intelligence" (our own intelligence) has not yet awakened to the facts of one life, and realization has not yet inspired them (life has not yet rammed into a wild fox’s skin). For as the Genjokoan says, "The reason it is so is that this knowing and the perfect realization of the Buddha-Dharma appear together and are experienced together."

When a wild fox unfailingly knows its falling down, in each of five hundred lives, then reality is realized.

When practice and enlightenment is continuous and ongoing (When a wild fox unfailingly knows), in each moment (each life) then reality is realized. In Genjokoan, this is presented as, "There is a state in which the traces of realization are forgotten; and it manifests the traces of forgotten realization for a long, long time."

It does not completely know the whole of one life: there are instances of knowing and there are instances of not knowing.

Dogen is making two straightforward declarations. There is no way of "completely" knowing the "whole" of one life (or even one moment). In the words of Genjokoan, "In dust and out of the frame, [the myriad dharmas] encompass numerous situations, but we see and understand only as far as our eyes of learning in practice are able to reach." In addition, in life there are instances of "knowing" and there are instances of "not knowing." "Those who greatly realize delusion are buddhas. Those who are greatly deluded about realization are ordinary beings" (Genjokoan).

Given that body and knowing do not arise and pass together, it is impossible to count five hundred lives. If it is impossible to count [five hundred lives], the words "five hundred lives" might be a fabrication. If someone says that [a wild fox] knows by using intelligence other than a wild fox’s intelligence, then it is not the knowing of a wild fox. What person could know these [five hundred lives] on a wild fox’s behalf? Without any road of clear understanding through knowing and not knowing, we cannot speak of falling into the body of a wild fox, and if there is no falling into the body of a wild fox, there can be no getting free of the body of a wild fox. If there is neither falling in nor getting free, there can be no former Hyakujo. If there is no former Hyakujo, there can be no present Hyakujo—which cannot be conceded at random.

Through this series of logical analysis, Dogen demonstrates one method for researching the koan with reason (as his subsequent statement indicates). We can compare them to statements made in Genjokoan:

"Given that body and knowing do not arise and pass together, it is impossible to count five hundred lives." (Life is an instantaneous situation, and death is also an instantaneous situation. Genjokoan)

"If it is impossible to count [five hundred lives], the words "five hundred lives" might be a fabrication." Even if the words are not a "fabrication," their ability to define completely are limited. (If we wish to hear how the myriad dharmas naturally are, we should remember that besides their appearance of squareness or roundness, the qualities… are numerous and endless; and that there are worlds in the four directions. Not only the periphery is like this: remember, the immediate present, and a single drop [of water] are also like this. (Genjokoan)

"If someone says that [a wild fox] knows by using intelligence other than a wild fox’s intelligence, then it is not the knowing of a wild fox. What person could know these [five hundred lives] on a wild fox’s behalf?" "…[to fishes] it is like a palace and [to gods] it is like a string of pearls." (Genjokoan)

"Without any road of clear understanding through knowing and not knowing, we cannot speak of falling into the body of a wild fox, and if there is no falling into the body of a wild fox, there can be no getting free of the body of a wild fox. If there is neither falling in nor getting free, there can be no former Hyakujo. If there is no former Hyakujo, there can be no present Hyakujo—which cannot be conceded at random." ("The experience of the ultimate state is realized at once. At the same time, its mysterious existence is not necessarily a manifest realization. Realization is the state of ambiguity itself." (Genjokoan)

We should research in detail like this. Utilizing this reasoning, we should test and defeat all the fallacies that have been heard again and again throughout the Liang, Chen, Sui, Tang, and Sung dynasties.

Dogen declares that we should research this koan (and all teachings for that matter) "like this." As should be clear by now, he insisted on sustained, exacting examination. Throughout his works, Dogen demonstrates his refusal to accept anything on blind faith alone, and does not shy away from admonishing even the most revered of the Zen ancestors when he finds their words or deeds lacking. Much of the Shobogenzo can be read as, "Utilizing this reasoning" to "test and defeat all the fallacies that have been heard again and again" down through the ages. When the fallacies have been tested and discarded, the truth becomes clearer. This methodical process of approaching reality is alluded to in the poem:

Faces do not carvers make,
But that away,
Which hid them there,
Do take.

The old non-man, moreover, says to the present Hyakujo, "Please perform for me the funeral ceremony for a deceased monk." These words should not be like that.

When Dogen says, "These words should not be like that," he is indicating that "these words" reveal a fallacy that should be seen through and not accepted hastily.

Since Hyakujo’s time countless good counselors have not doubted, or been surprised at, these words.

Dogen does not explicitly chastise those who have "not doubted, or been surprised at, these words" (he still calls them "good counselors.") He nevertheless invites us to doubt the words, that is, to examine them deeply.

The point is this: how could a dead fox be a deceased monk, without having taken the precepts, without experience of summer retreats, without the dignified forms, and without the principles of a monk? If any such being may undergo at random the funeral ceremony for a deceased monk, all dead people who have never left family life, whoever they are, would have to be accorded the rites of a deceased monk. A dead upasaka {layman} or upasika {laywoman}, if a request were forthcoming, would have to be accorded the rites of a deceased monk, as was the dead fox. When we look for such an example, there is none and we hear of none. No such ceremony has been authentically transmitted in Buddhism; even if we wanted to perform it, we would not be able to do so. The words [quoted] now that Hyakujo cremates it according to the formal method are not beyond doubt; it is possible that they are a mistake. Remember, there are set procedures for all the rites of a deceased monk, from efforts on entering the Nirvana Hall to pursuit of the truth on arriving at the Bodhi Garden, and they are not done at random. Even if a dead wild fox from the foot of a rock claims to be the former Hyakujo, how could the conduct of a full monk be present in it? How could it have the bones and marrow of the Buddhist patriarchs? Who will testify that it is the former Hyakujo?

He lays out some logical reasons why these words (about giving a fox the funeral ceremony of a monk) should cause us some doubt and surprise. Because of the overtly mythological setting of this koan, one might dismiss the significance of the request from the "dead fox" and the "present Hyakujo’s" acquiescence. However, koans, like scripture, rarely contain superfluous words; examined closely these words arouse some intriguing possibilities. Perhaps the present Hyakujo devised the funeral ceremony in order to arouse the curiosity of his community as a prelude to presenting his story. Maybe the funeral of the dead fox is a symbolic expression indicating that once the meaning of the fox’s story is discerned, the body (words) should be put to rest (cremated). We should apply ourselves to these questions (and others that may occur to us) and resolve the points rather than let them pass as unimportant details to the main points of the koan.

Do not despise and belittle the Dharma-standards of the Buddhist patriarchs by idly accepting the transmogrification of the ghost of a wild fox as true.

Dogen now addresses himself to danger of understanding the wild fox koan in a strictly literal sense rather than becoming intimate with the truth behind the story. To read this (or any koan) as a simple explanation about reality, and "idly accepting" it "as true" is to miss the whole point.

As the descendants of Buddhist patriarchs, attach weight to the Dharma-standards of the Buddhist patriarchs. Never follow a request as Hyakujo does.

For those yet unable to intimately realize the wisdom of this koan, Dogen gives a word of warning; never use the literal meaning of a koan as a guide to actual practice. The literal meaning of a koan does not overrule "the Dharma standards of the Buddhist patriarchs" (the doctrines and traditions of Zen).

It is hard to meet even one matter or one method; do not be influenced by secular vulgarity, and do not be led by human sentiment.

Intellectual understanding of this koan can lead to the view of mutual annihilation of both being subject to, and being free of, the laws of cause and effect. This can cause people to regard cause and effect as unimportant in the everyday world, resulting in a pernicious form of "nothing special" Zen. Dogen warns us not to "be led by human sentiment" and thereby miss the rare opportunity "to meet" matters and methods of the Buddhas and Zen ancestors.

In this country of Japan, the forms of buddhas and the forms of patriarchs have been hard indeed to meet and hard indeed to hear. Now that, on rare occasions, we are able to hear them and able to see them, we should revere them more profoundly than the pearl in the topknot.

Dogen is indicating the relatively new introduction of Buddhism to Japan, especially Zen Buddhism, declaring that our exposure to authentic teachings are rare. He urges his listeners to take advantage of the rare opportunity to take up the authentic practice and enlightenment of Buddhism (forms of buddhas and forms of patriarchs).

Unhappy people are not profound in religious conviction. It is pitiful. It is generally because they have never recognized the relative weight of things, and because they are without the wisdom of five hundred years and without the wisdom of a thousand years.

He points out that without being "profound in religious conviction" people are unhappy. If we do not come to grips with the fundamental questions of life and death, peace and happiness remains superficial and fleeting. Only by becoming intimate with the true nature of ourselves and the universe (recognizing the relative weight of things), by realizing the truth (the wisdom of five hundred years and the wisdom of a thousand years) can we find true happiness.

Nevertheless, we should urge ourselves on and encourage others.

Although exposure to the authentic forms of Buddhism may be rare rare, Dogen declares we should take up whatever authentic forms that we do learn, as well as encouraging others to do so.

Having been able to receive an authentic tradition from the Buddhist patriarchs— even if it is only one prostration and even if it is only one instance of upright sitting—we should profoundly feel great happiness and should rejoice in the great good fortune of having met what is difficult to meet.

Rather than dwell on the unfortunate fact that much of the great tradition of Buddhism has been misconstrued, prostituted, maligned, distorted, and misrepresented; we "should rejoice in the great good fortune" that some of the authentic teachings have reached us.

People who lack this mind, even if they meet the appearance in the world of a thousand buddhas, will not possess a single virtue, and will not be able to obtain a single benefit.

As discussed earlier, Dogen is in accord with all the Buddhas and Zen ancestors when it comes to the foremost point of Buddhism: awakening the bodhi-mind (the enlightened mind). Without "this mind," everything else is moot.

They will just be non-Buddhists who idly attach themselves to the Buddha-Dharma.

Those pretenders who call themselves Buddhists but "lack this mind" are parasitic to authentic Buddhism (idly attach themselves to the Buddha-Dharma).

They may seem, in their mouths, to be learning the Buddha-Dharma, but real evidence of preaching the Buddha-Dharma can never be present in their mouths.

Not only in their mouths, but also in their books, in their "monastic" communities, and in their Japanese and Chinese costumes, mannerisms, and hairstyles these charlatans only seem to be learning the Buddha-Dharma (Buddhist teaching). "But real evidence of preaching Buddha-Dharma" is not present. What is "real evidence?" Authentic, ongoing practice and enlightenment.

In sum, if some person who has yet to become a monk—be it a king or a minister, be it Brahmadeva or Sakradevanam-indra—comes asking for the rites of a deceased monk, never allow it. Tell them to come back when they have left family life, received the precepts, and become a full monk.

Though the former Hyakujo, the present Hyakujo, a wild fox, and every other thing, time, and event is cause-and-effect itself, it simultaneously retains its unique, and particular aspect (Dharma position). A king should be treated as a king, a fox as a fox, and a monk as a monk.

People who are attached to conduct and its rewards in the triple world and who do not aspire to a noble position as one of the Three Treasures may come bringing a thousand dead skin bags to defile and to breach the rites of a deceased monk, but it would only be a most severe violation, and it would not produce any merit.

When people are attached to fame and gain and lack true aspiration for awakening the bodhi mind, outward "Buddhist" conduct and fakery are nothing but a violation of reality.

If they wish to establish favorable relations with the merit of the Buddha-Dharma, they should promptly leave family life and receive the precepts, in accordance with the Buddha-Dharma, and become full monks.

If people want to undergo the rites of a monk, they must put themselves in accord with the causes and effects of a monk (leaving home, receiving precepts, and acting in accord with the Buddhist teachings).

In the evening the present Hyakujo gives formal preaching in the Dharma Halland discusses the preceding episode. The principle of this discussion is extremely dubious.

Is Dogen being ironic? Do we sense a smile behind his sword, a needle in the cotton, as the Zen saying goes? The great Zen master Hyakujo gives a formal preaching in the sacred Dharma Hall. Imagine the great holy man before his solemn assembly of 500 or 1000 monks, "Today I had a discussion with a wild fox…" Dogen’s words that "principle of this discussion is extremely dubious" seems to be a mild understatement.

What kind of discussion might they have? He seems to say that the old man, having already; completed the process of five hundred lives, gets rid of his former body. Should the five hundred lives mentioned now be counted as in the human world? Should they be counted as in the state of a wild fox? Should they be counted as in the Buddha’s truth? Furthermore, how could the eyes of an old wild fox glimpse Hyakujo?

Dogen again, in what by now has become familiar, points out some seams and cracks where we might find good advantage for our pry bars. Try here! Pull on that! Look under there!

Those who are glimpsed by a wild fox may be the ghosts of wild foxes. Those who are glimpsed by Hyakujo are Buddhist patriarchs.

"Those who greatly realize delusion are buddhas. Those who are greatly deluded about realization are ordinary beings." (Genjokoan)

For this reason, Zen Master Koboku Hojo eulogizes [Hyakujo] as follows:

Hyakujo has intimately experienced meetings with a wild fox;
Questioned by it, he is greatly ruffled.
Now I dare ask all you practitioners,
Have you completely spat out a fox’s drivel or not?

Thus, a wild fox is the Eye of Hyakujo’s intimate experience.

"When the myriad dharmas actively practice and experience ourselves, that is the state of realization." (Genjokoan)

To have spat out a fox’s drivel, even in a half measure, is to be sticking out the wide and long tongue and speaking for others a word of transformation.

The "wide and long tongue" is the eloquent speech of Buddha. When we use "the whole-body-and-mind" to spit out even a half measure of fox drivel, we are speaking the Buddha’s truth with the tongue of the Buddha (the entire universe). "The Buddha’s truth is originally transcendent over abundance and scarcity, and so there is life and death, there is delusion and realization, there are beings and buddhas." (Genjokoan)

At the very moment of so doing, we get free of the body of a wild fox, get free of the body of Hyakujo, get free of the body of an old non-man, and get free of the body of the whole Universe.

"To be experienced by the myriad dharmas is to let our own body-and-mind, and the body-and-mind of the external world, fall away." (Genjokoan)

Obaku then asks, "The man in the past gave a mistaken answer as a word of transformation, and fell into the body of a wild fox for five hundred lives. If he had not made any mistake at any moment, what would he have become?" This question is the realization of the words of the Buddhist patriarchs.

Dogen declares that Obaku’s words are "the realization of the words of the Buddhist patriarchs." In this light, we can see that Obaku is not merely asking a question, but rather demonstrating his intimate grasp of Hyakujo’s story about the wild fox.

Among the venerable patriarchs in the lineage from Nangaku there is none like Obaku, either before him or after him.

Obaku, was the teacher of Rinzai (Linji), and is one of the most revered ancestors in the Zen tradition. Dogen is pointing out that the words of such an outstanding master should not be taken lightly.

Nevertheless, the old man never says "I answered the practitioner mistakenly," and Hyakujo never says "He had answered mistakenly." Why does Obaku now casually say "The man in the past gave a mistaken answer as a word of transformation"?

Dogen calls our attention to the fact that neither the former nor the present Hyakujo said anything about "mistakes." Acknowledging this, we should try to discern what Obaku is getting at here.

If he says [Hyakujo] might be saying that the cause was the mistake, then Obaku has not grasped the great intent of Hyakujo. It is as if Obaku has never investigated the mistaken answers, and the answers beyond mistakes, that Buddhist patriarchs express.

Obaku, being a revered ancestor cannot mean that he believes Hyakujo is saying that the cause (the former Hyakujo’s response to the practitioner) was the mistake. That would be to admit that Obaku did not grasp the point of Hyakujo’s intent (in relating the story). Obaku is an authentic Zen master who is wise to both the "mistaken answers" (the particular), and "the answers beyond mistakes" (the absolute).

We should learn in practice that in this particular episode the past Hyakujo does not mention a mistaken answer and the present Hyakujo does not mention a mistaken answer.

Dogen does not want us to simply take his word for it, but to investigate the matter intimately through nonthinking (Observing Prajna).

Rather, using five hundred skins of wild foxes, each three inches thick, [the past Hyakujo] has experienced life on this mountain, and for the benefit of practitioners he expresses it.

Having experienced the ongoing practice and enlightenment of birth in continuous succession (using five hundred skins of wild foxes), each being a concrete, individual fact (each three inches thick) Hyakujo expresses it (the Buddhist truth) to help others.

Because the skin of a wild fox has pointed hairs in the liberated state, the present Hyakujo exists as one stinking skin bag, which, when we fathom it, is half a wild fox skin in the process of getting free.

Form is emptiness; emptiness is form. The "liberated state" is the realm of emptiness, equality, and oneness which nevertheless comes forth as each and every minute, unique, particular thing, including the "pointed hairs" on the "skin of a wild fox." When we realize this (fathom it), Hyakujo is a real human being (one stinking skin bag) that is "half a wild fox skin" (in the world of form) "in the process of getting free" (in the world of emptiness).

There is falling down and getting free which is at every moment is beyond mistakes, and there is cause-and-effect which at every moment speaks words for others.

Every single moment of great practice (beyond mistakes) is simultaneously being subject to causation (falling down) and transcending causation (getting free). Cause-and-effect itself (the whole universe) comes forth as each particular thing, time, and event ("at every moment speaks words for others").

They are the evident great practice itself.

"Falling down," "getting free," and "speaking words for others" are the action and proof ("the evident") of authentic practice and enlightenment itself.

If Obaku were now to come and ask "If he had not made any mistake at any moment, what would he have become?" I would say, "He would still have fallen down into the body of a wild fox."

Dogen trades places with Hyakujo and makes an expression for others. Dogen says that the former Hyakujo would have fallen into the body of a wild fox even if he had not made a mistake. Is he tacitly implying that the former Hyakujo did make a mistake?

If Obaku asked, "Why is it so?" I would say further, "You ghost of a wild fox!"

If Obaku said, "Why would he have fallen into the body of a wild fox?" Dogen says he would have called Obaku a "ghost of a wild fox." This might not be an admonishment on Dogen’s part. If not, how could Obaku respond?

Even then, it would not be a matter of mistakes or no mistakes.

Dogen never concedes that anything is a matter of this or that. "When one side is illumined, the other side is darkened." (Genjokoan)

Do not concede that Obaku’s question is a proper question!

Obaku’s question, "If he had not made any mistake at any moment, what would he have become?" is not an ordinary (proper) question. His words are the direct presentation of his grasp of the story about Hyakujo and the wild fox.

If Obaku asked again, "What would he have become?" I would say, "Are you able to grope the skin of the face, or not?"

Dogen goes out on a limb for us here, like when he said, "this is the place where Gautama Buddha eats porridge." If Obaku were to respond to Dogen by pinching Dogen’s cheek, Dogen might say that Obaku had only grasped eighty or ninety percent. If Obaku were to pinch his own cheek, Dogen might say, "And though it is like this, it is only that flowers, while loved, fall; and weeds while hated, flourish." (Genjokoan)

I would say further, "Have you got free of the body of a wild fox yet, or not?"

Obaku might have replied, "We performed the cremation ceremony this morning."

I would say further, "Would you reply to that practitioner ‘They do not fall into cause and effect’ or not?"

Maybe Obaku would say, "I would not be unclear to that practitioner."

But Hyakujo’s words "Step up here and I will tell you" already include the expression "What will [he] become is just this!"

Now Dogen brings us to the point. What else does Hyakujo’s expression "already include?" "Step up here and I will tell you!"

Obaku steps up, having forgotten the past and oblivious of the future.

Dogen goes all the way off the limb with this little jewel. He gives the whole koan away right here. Besides the past and future, has Obaku forgotten anything else?

His giving Hyakujo a slap is countless transmogrifications of a wild fox.

Slap! How many is "countless transmogrifications?" It is exactly five hundred lives of a wild fox.

Hyakujo claps his hands and laughs, and says, "You have just expressed that a foreigner’s beard is red, but it is also a fact that a red-beard is a foreigner." This expression is not the boldness of spirit that belongs to one hundred percent perfection; it is barely eighty or ninety percent of realization.

Bodhidharma, known in Zen lore to have worn a red-beard, is fondly known as "the red-bearded barbarian." Hyakujo may be acknowledging Obaku’s identity with Bodhidharma, however he is also pointing out something else. Bodhidharma is the founder of Zen, "but it is also a fact that" the founder of Zen is Bodhidharma. Though Dogen always holds Hyakujo in the highest regard, he seems to sense a weak-point in his expression; "it is barely eighty or ninety percent of realization."

As a rule, even when we acknowledge eighty or ninety percent realization there is not yet eighty or ninety percent realization, and when we acknowledge one hundred percent perfection there is nothing left of eighty or ninety percent realization.

Eighty or ninety percent of realization is like eighty or ninety percent pregnancy. When we are one hundred percent pregnant, where could we find eighty or ninety percent of our pregnancy?

That being so, I would like to say:

Hyakujo’s expression pervades all directions,
Yet he still has not left the wild fox’s den.
Obaku’s heels are touching the ground,
Yet he seems to be stuck on the path of a praying mantis.
In a slap and a clap,
There is one, not two.
Red-beards are foreigners and foreigners’ beards are red.

Since eighty or ninety percent does not suit Dogen, he shows us his expression of one hundred percent realization:

"Hyakujo’s expression pervades all directions, Yet he still has not left the wild fox’s den." Hyakujo does not fall into cause-and-effect, yet he still gets tired when he works hard.

"Obaku’s heels are touching the ground, Yet he seems to be stuck on the path of a praying mantis." Obaku does chores and drinks tea, yet he never moves a single inch.

"In a slap and a clap, There is one, not two." Obaku slaps with one hand and Hyakujo claps with the other; sclap!

"Red-beards are foreigners and foreigners’ beards are red." Obaku’s teacher is Hyakujo and Hyakujo is Obaku’s teacher.

Shobogenzo Translations by Gudo Nishijima & Mike Cross