evils  will ever be committed, even if he appears  to visit a
place full of the temptation  to evil, or to meet a situation
fraught with seduction  to evil, or to have friendly  contact
with  evil doers."  That is to say, this man is now free from
the power of evil and free for good because  the power of the
Truth (the Dharma-power), the Ab-  solute conceived as power,
finds expression  in him and even as him.  He does not merely
know truth, he is Truth and consequently does Truth, which is
to say that he inevitably does no evil.
  In short, Doogen's  insight overcomes  the false dualism of
word  and  deed: the  command  to perform  and the  power  to
perform   are  essentially   identical,  and  this  unity  of
performance and command is rooted in the Unborn. Doogen's way
of putting this is picturesque:

a pine-tree  in spring is neither non-existent  nor existent,
but it is (absolutely) the  "do not commit";  a chrysanthemum
in autumn is neither existent nor non-

p.37

existent, but it is (absolutely) "do not commit"; Buddhas are
neither  existent  nor non-existent, but they are the "do not
commit";  a pillar, a lattern, a brush, a stick  are none  of
them  existent  or  non-existent,  but  (absolutely) "do  not
commit"; one's own self is neither existent nor non-existent,
but (absolutely) "do not commit."

What  is  meant  here, of  course, is that  a pine  tree, for
example, should  be seen  not as a natural  object  only, but
more importantly  as the "do not commit," that is, as another
manifestation  of that same ultimate  which is the reality of
both the command not to commit evil and the power to obey it.
In other  words, particularity, as we find it in the command,
and  in  the  power  to  act,  and  in  a  pine  tree, and  a
chrysanthemum  and so on indefinitely  is, even  while  it is
genuine　　 particularity,　　 nevertheless　　 the　　 Absolute.
Particularity  has existed from beginningless time, yet it is
also  true  that the dharmakaaya  or Unborn  encompasses  all
particularities  in such  a way  that, while  not  destroying
them, it is itself not divided by them.
  All this raises the trite sentence  "Do not commit evil" to
a new and surprising  level of complexity and importance.  It
is not merely a rule, a Buddhist  Boy Scout motto;  it is the
way that "that which eternally is" expresses'  its character,
and  therefore  I must  consider  myself  in some  degree  of
alienation.  from Truth and Reality, bound in some measure to
illusion, while  it is ever a self-conscious  struggle  on my
part  to  obey.   "Do  not  commit   evil"  must  become   my
subjectivity;  it must not remain an externally imposed rule.
When  it is truly  my subjectivity  and my true self, then my
self is no longer  that separate  finite  ego of which I once
boasted, but is none other than the Unborn, the Absolute, the
Eternal Truth. Doogen resorts to a metaphor to illustrate the
nature of the transformation  we undergo in the process he is
discussing.  He says, "Just as the Buddhahood-seed  grows  by
favorable  conditions,so  the  (very) favorableness  of those
favorable conditions derives from the Buddhahood-seed."  That
is, the subjectivizing  of the "Commit no evil"can be likened
to the growth  within  us of the seed of true Buddhahood, and
this seed, the favorable  conditions  for its growth, and the
process  of growth  are  all  alike  the  Unborn.  Among  the
"favorable  conditions"  for this  growth  of the Buddha-seed
within  us is, of course, the diligent  practice  of Doogen's
beloved zazen.
  But now we come to what seems at first to be a considerable
dilemma.  All that has been said so far points to an ontology
which might best be described as "dynamic" monism.  Buddhists
are rather inclined  to reserve the term "monism"  for Indian
thought  concerning   Brahman,  and  since  they,  at  least,
understand  this  in  a very  static  way--Brahman  is always
pictured  in Japanese  writing as utterly  unmoved, a sort of