The vessel that floats on the river thinks the river is moving, while the shore stands still.
— Dōgen
Albert & Alberta discuss
A classical relativity problem wrapped in thirteenth-century Zen. Naturally, the passenger forgets that inertial frames are purely a matter of perspective.
Or maybe the passenger is just enjoying the cruise, Albert. But I love how architectural it is—it suggests our sense of stillness is entirely manufactured by whatever room we happen to be sitting in.
Manufactured, yes, until you hit a sandbar. Then the shore becomes rather aggressively absolute.
Only because you're measuring your ego against the riverbank. Dōgen was nudging us to see that we aren't separate observers carried along by time—we're part of the current itself.
A poetic thought to digest over morning toast: I am neither the boat nor the passenger, but the hydrodynamic drag.