Accounts of Dōgen’s early life consistently point to a single, searing experience as the seed of his vocation: the death of his mother when he was still a child. Coming from an aristocratic family, he was surrounded by status and privilege, yet none of that could shield him from the stark reality of loss. The sight of funeral incense smoke rising and dissipating is often highlighted as the moment when the truth of impermanence struck him with full force. This encounter with mortality did not remain a passing sorrow; it matured into a deep spiritual unease about the reliability of anything conditioned or worldly.

From that grief arose an earnest questioning that shaped his entire path. If even those in the highest positions are subject to death and decay, what, if anything, can be trusted as truly enduring? This line of inquiry led him to doubt the sufficiency of worldly success and to turn his attention toward the Buddha’s teaching as a way to address suffering at its root. Traditional narratives also emphasize that his mother’s final wish was that he seek the Dharma as a monk, a wish that harmonized with the questions already stirring in his heart. Thus, personal loss, the insight into impermanence, and a filial response to his mother’s dying request converged to inspire his decision to enter monastic life.

This movement toward the robe and bowl was not merely an escape from sorrow, but a deliberate step into it, guided by the intuition that only a path grounded in the recognition of impermanence could offer genuine clarity. The turbulence of his social and political surroundings further underscored how fragile and shifting worldly affairs can be, reinforcing his resolve. In turning to the monastic path, he sought not consolation in the ordinary sense, but a way of seeing and living that could fully face transience without being shattered by it.