Dōgen’s Shōbōgenzō took shape in the early Kamakura period (1185–1333), a time when Japan was anything but static. Political power was shifting from the imperial court in Kyoto to a rising samurai class, and the nation found itself wrestling with uncertainty—famines, local conflicts, and the sense that the world had entered mappō, the “degenerate age” of the Dharma. Against this backdrop, new Buddhist movements blossomed: Pure Land devotees chanted Amida’s name, Nichiren followers rallied around the Lotus Sūtra, and Zen monks emphasized direct experience over ritual.

Born into a minor noble family in 1200, Dōgen first studied Tendai on Mount Hiei but grew disillusioned with its scholastic emphasis. In 1223, a journey to Song-China led to an encounter with Master Rujing, whose silent illumination practice—shikantaza, or “just sitting”—struck a chord. Returning home in 1227, Dōgen set about establishing Kōshōhōrin-ji near Kyoto, later moving north to found Eihei-ji in today's Fukui Prefecture.

The Shōbōgenzō—literally “Treasury of the True Dharma Eye”—emerged as a series of talks and essays delivered to his Japanese disciples between the 1230s and his death in 1253. Written in a mix of classical Chinese and emerging Japanese prose, it wasn’t meant for ivory-tower scholars alone. Dōgen aimed to challenge complacency and “cut through the noise” of formulaic practice, insisting that sitting meditation itself embodies the Buddha-way.

In today’s age of scrolling feeds and constant alerts, his insistence on wholehearted presence feels surprisingly timely. Just as the Kamakura era grappled with newly mobile warriors and shifting loyalties, modern life demands methods for staying rooted. The Shōbōgenzō remains a testament to how radical simplicity—one breath at a time—can turn the tide of inner turmoil, much as Dōgen’s teaching rippled across medieval Japan and continues to resonate worldwide.