Somewhere Dōgen wrote about the number of moments in the snap of a finger. I don't remember the exact figure, only that it was large and seemed quite arbitrary and absurd, but I imagine that when I am in the cockpit of my plane, aiming the nose at the hull of an American battleship, every single one will be clear and pure and discernible. At the moment of my death, I look forward at last to being fully aware and alive.
In Ruth Ozeki's "A Tale for the Time Being," she reflects on a thought attributed to Dōgen regarding the many moments captured in a single snap of a finger. Although the exact number escapes her, she perceives the figure as both immense and somewhat irrational. This contemplation serves as a backdrop for her own experiences, especially when in the cockpit of her plane, facing a crucial moment that demands full awareness.
As she nears the end of her life, Ozeki anticipates a moment of truly being alive and present. This idea of clarity and discernment at the moment of death suggests a deep appreciation for the fleeting nature of time and existence. Ultimately, it illustrates her desire to embrace each moment fully, as if they collectively hold the significance of a lifetime.
