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A Poem.of Dogen

To what shall I
Liken the world?
Moonlight, reflected
In dewdrops,
Shaken from a crane's bill.


Many commentators, led astray by "the languid east" nonsense, and thoughts of maya (understood as "illusion") see such words, understand the poem, as being some some sort of diminution of the individual, and our world as being in a sense unreal.

Sir Edwin Arnold wrote, in his epic poem of the Buddha's life, "The Light of Asia", ended that poem with the words (upon the death of the Buddha as he enters Nirvana):-

"The dewdrop slips into the shining sea". More misunderstanding.

In fact, it is more that the shining sea slips into the dewdrop - yet even that does not capture the Buddhist position, which in fact is a no-position that supecedes all positions.

Getting back to Dogen's poem, here is a more perceptive understanding:-

“According to this verse, the entire world is fully contained in each and every one of the innumerable dewdrops, each one symbolic of the inexhaustible contents of all impermanent moments. Here the dewdrops no longer suggest illusion in contrast to reality because they are liberated by their reflection of the moon’s glow. Conversely, the moon as a symbol of Buddha-nature is not an aloof realm since it is fully merged in the finite and individuated manifestations of the dew. Just as the moon is one with the dewdrops, the poem itself becomes one with the setting it depicts.”


Thus the particular is seen to contain the universal. Each and every particular. Every moment. Every NOW. In this world, not some imagined "other" promised beyond the grave.

Another astute commentator Hee-Jin Kim invites us to pay particular attention to the pivotal word “shaken.” Many examples could be given of static images of the moon in a dewdrop or the moon reflected in still water but, by virtue of being shaken, the metaphor becomes dynamic and interactive.

So much for illusion, the diminution of the individual!
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A small extract from the book I mentioned, "A Tale for the Time Being"...

One of the narrators is speaking about being forced by her mother to attend a public bathing area, and she writes about seeing other people naked...

....the hostesses were slim and smooth-skinned, and even though their breasts and waists and hips were different sizes, they were all young and looked pretty much the same. But the old ladies . . . omg! They were totally different sizes and shapes, some with huge fat boobs and others with just flaps of skin and nipples like drawer knobs, and bellies like the skin on top of boiled milk when you push it to the side of the cup. I used to play this game, matching up the hostesses with the old ladies in my mind, trying to imagine which young body would turn into which aged one, and how this cute breast might wither into that sad old flap, and how a stomach would bloat or sag. It was weird, like seeing time pass, but in a Buddhist instant, you know?.


Uji!!!