Baishui Zen

This post kicks off our discussion of the Zen record. The first text we’ll be looking at is Bodhidharma’s Two Entrances and Four Practices, also known as Outline of Practice. The format of these posts will all be the same. I’ll post the original Chinese, my translation, and a translation from a reputable source. There’s lots of these out there, but I’ll pick just one. Then, I’ll offer my own commentary to the text. This can consist of stuff ranging from Chinese phrases or sayings that are used in the text that came up in the translation process or ambiguities in meaning, to references to other texts I’ve seen. Finally, we will go through the two translations, and discuss any points of disagreement. I am only an amateur in the first place, so I do not mean to assert that my translation is correct over the published one. Rather, I hope that these provide fertile ground for discussing the text and offer insight for one’s own Zen practice. I’d also like to remark that the length of these posts will be somewhat variable, depending on how much there is to say, and how fast I’m able to make progress on the translation.

The Text

First, the original Chinese:

夫入道多途。要而言之不出二種。一是理入。二是行入。理入者謂藉教悟宗。深信含生同一真性。但為客塵妄想所覆不能顯了。若也捨妄歸真。凝住壁觀。無自無他。凡聖等一堅住不移。更不隨文教。此即與理冥符無有分別。寂然無為名之理入。

My translation:

Now, there are many ways to enter the path. To put it simply, there are not more than two kinds. The first of these is by reason, the second of these is by practice. Entering by reason means relying on teaching to attain enlightenment. It is a profound truth that living things contain the same one essential nature. However, it seems absent because it is obscured by defilement and delusion. If one abandons delusions and returns to the truth, crystallizes his gaze and dwells on walls, understands the absence of self, of others and the equality of ordinary individual and sage; firmly abiding and unmoving (in these). Unmoved by dogma, this then grants a profound alignment with reason, with no mental discrimination. Undisturbed non-action, this is called entering by reason.

I’ve highlighted things that appear in my translation but not Red Pine’s in blue. Here’s Red Pine’s, with any significant disagreements highlighted in red:

Many roads lead to the Path, but basically there are only two: reason and practice. To enter by reason means to realize the essence through instruction and to believe that all living things share the same true nature, which isn’t apparent because its shrouded by sensation and delusion. Those who turn from delusion back to reality, who meditate on walls, the absence of self and other, the oneness of mortal and sage, and who remain unmoved even by scriptures are in complete and unspoken agreement with reason. Without moving, without effort, they enter, we say, by reason.

In general, I won’t highlight anything that I don’t think impacts the reading, but you should feel free to disagree.

Analysis

First, let’s talk about the character 行. It literally means “to go,” and it’s really common throughout the essay, even if it is not what we are focusing on today, it feels like we should address it up front, since it’s even in the title. However, it has a slew of other meanings that we should mention. The first bunch of meanings are all about some kind of implied motion: to walk, to travel, and so on. From here, we have the slightly more general usage of “action,” which is not uncommon either. For example, we have 一行, “one act,” and 二行, “two conducts.” In fact, the dictionary by Soothill and Hodous, which I will refer to extensively for phrases that could have a Buddhist interpretation, we see them list Bodhidharma’s highlighted two entrances,
二入, as the entrance by intelligence, 理入, and 行入, the entrance by practice. I’ve seen 理 translated as “principle” as well, which is nice for comparing “principle” with “practice,” and just sounds good together. That would be a reasonable interpretation, treating the word “principle” as rather like “theory,” e.g. entering from what we can learn of the world through intellect. Bodhidharma tells us clearly below that this is the entrance by “book learning” or “instruction,” and it’s very common in English for us to contrast theory with practice.

So let’s see what the main points of instruction we are to consider. First is the Buddha nature. Bodhidharma tells us, that all living things have the same one true nature. There are not too many alternatives for what this could refer to, the only other one which comes to mind being an interpretation based on the doctrine of emptiness. It could be that the only essential nature is, in fact, not having an essential nature at all. However, in the Avatamsaka Sutra (about which I will have a different series of blog posts, hopefully starting soon), we see the following quote:

“Son of Buddha, the wisdom of Tathagata is present everywhere. Why? Son of Buddha, in the class of living beings there is no place where the wisdom of Tathagata is not present. Why is it that? The wisdom of Tathagata is not established due to grasping the discrimination/consciousness, because the omniscient wisdom, the self-existent wisdom and the non-obstructed wisdom perfectly appear in total disconnection with discrimination.“

Red Pine’s introduction to this text says that throughout this and the sermons which follow, Bodhidharma’s writing is littered with references to this sutra, so for the time being I find this persuasive enough.

Now we see the first possible significant disagreement between the translations, although at first glance I think it is rather easy to overlook. In the original Chinese, we have here two compounds: 客塵 and 塵妄. The first one is the one we seem to disagree about, and it means literally “traveler’s ashes” or “guest dust” more colloquially. It refers to anything unwanted that is tracked in, such as by a guest. In Buddhism specifically, it can be used to refer to “defilement”, delusion, or any other sort of “evil” of the mind. In particular, the corresponding Sanskrit word seems to be “kleśa,” which in English can be translated as defilement, but also affliction, poison, or even just “neuroses.” In our specific case, it is “agantu-kleśa,” according to Soothill and Hodous, the “foreign element” to the mind.

This phrase can help inform the social nature of these unwanted thoughts, as if they are “tracked in” by the conditions they arise from. Another interpretation is that defilement is not originally present in the mind, but comes from without. In other words, it may be that the dust is itself the guest in the mind – temporary and to be cleaned away by wisdom, invited in by the creation of causes and conditions for suffering’s rise. Furthermore, the defilement can be subtle and numerous as dust. Throughout the Pali canon, for example, a common phrase symbolizing enlightenment is “to remove dust from the eyes,” so insofar as the senses can metaphorically represent wisdom, they can be obstructed, as wisdom can, by this dust.

Regardless, there is a case to be made for the simple translation of “sensation.” A reader who is not familiar with the Buddhist vernacular, or who is unwilling to comb through a dictionary such as Soothill and Hodous, are unlikely to understand the Buddhist view of the source of defilement. Accounts of this arising vary from source to source, but the general flow of things is that there is a root affliction, namely ignorance, which essentially refers to ignorance of the doctrine of emptiness. This root affliction, together with the inputs of sensation, including the “sensation” of mind and mental discrimination (more on this below), give rise to misconceptions of the world, and therefore cravings, and the myriad other negative emotions. In this sense, sensation is a very basic input into this process, and causes these negative feelings to arise. Therefore, simply emphasizing that basic input may help make the text more comprehensible to a layperson.

The second phrase is more mundane and can either mean literally “a vain attempt”, or a delusion. We take them together to be “defilement and delusion,” as these are commonly paired. As a side remark, the sentence is written in the ancient Chinese passive voice, which can sometimes be awkward to directly translate to English, but indicates that the fundamental Buddha nature is being obscured, not itself hiding from us. It is there for us to apprehend as soon as we are able to clear these defilements.

About the core teachings, we seem to agree. Let’s enumerate them one at a time clearly, since the sentence structure is a little bit strange. The text I have access to does not have significant punctuation. For example, it is not easy to distinguish between commas and periods or other grammatical particles which, to my limited knowledge of classical/middle Chinese, may or may not even exist, like semicolons. At the very least, I have yet to learn of them in any of the textbooks I am paging through, though this could simply reflect my own ignorance. We have:

1. Meditate on walls via gazing, e.g. “crystallize one’s gaze.”
2. Understand the absence of self and of others.
3. Understand the inherent sameness of an ordinary individual (a “mortal”) and a sage.
4. Remain unmoved by scripture. (?)

Because of the difficulties in the sentence structure, Red Pine and I disagree about whether or not this last one is part of that list of core teachings. In Red Pine’s translation, he says “these four teachings are the essential things that grant alignment with reason.” My translation enumerates three core teachings, and says “those who are unmoved by (scriptural, philosophical) dogmas, these basic teachings are the essential entrance by reason.

But what does it mean, “those who are unmoved by scripture?” This is a pretty odd thing to say, in my opinion, considering Bodhidharma would have come from a lineage of Mahayana Buddhists, where the sutras are extremely precious. To understand this, I looked at the individual characters 文 and 教, which together are often interpreted as “scripture,” to see if perhaps something other than the compound word “written + teaching = scripture” could be read from it. It turns out that 文 can mean “literary/written,” “cultural” and/or “patterned/ornamental,” while 教 essentially always means some variant of “teaching” or “doctrine.” The throughline for the former is that these are all things which arise from civilization. Within this scope, we can put a bit of a spin on it, as I chose to do in my translation, which might help us place this in context. Instead of reading the pair as “written + teaching,” I chose to read it as “cultural doctrine,” which in English, makes the word “dogma” a pretty good fit, I think. Bodhidharma is saying that we should neglect conventional or societal “wisdom” in favor of the true wisdom of emptiness and the buddha nature. Moreover, he calls this true wisdom “in冥 accordance with reason.” This hanzi does not seem to have any one simple translation, but basically it means “deep,” as in “profound,” or “mystical” or “hard to fathom.” Red Pine called this “complete and unspoken,” and I think that’s probably fine, if somewhat different. In the same sense of “hard to fathom,” you might read it as “not immediately obvious” or “subtle, but potent.”

As we’re nearing the end of this dissection, I’d like to make two last observations, both relatively brief. The first is that the words “with no mental discrimination” do not appear in Red Pine’s translation at all. In the Chinese, we have the phrase “有分別”. The first character means “to have” or “to exist/be.” The second is used to refer to any kind of division or separation. It is often used to refer to a division of time, but to my understanding, this is not necessary. Finally, the last character means to separate or classify. In summary, “to have distinct classifications,” or simply, “to discriminate between.” In a Buddhist context, Soothill and Hodous give the definition, “the mental sense/faculty of discrimination.” Buddhism acknowledges six kinds of sensing. The first five are the Aristotelian five senses of the body, e.g. sight, hearing, and so on. The last one is the sense of mental discrimination, and that is what it meant here. The use of the character 無 appended prior makes it mean “without mental discrimination.” This seems like a significant reference to Buddhist concept of mind, and feels like it ought to be included.

As a closing remark, no student of literary Chinese could spot the pair 無為 in the phrase “寂然無為” and not wonder what significance it may have in this context. The first two characters together mean “quietude” or “undisturbed,” while the latter are the famous wu wei. While I think it would be wrong to prematurely assume that this phrase has a Daoist connotation by itself, I have chosen to translate the phrase as “non-action,” to leave the door open to some connection with Daoism. It’s unclear if the first patriarch was even a real person instead of just a mythological figurehead, let alone knowing when this essay may have been written and how he, or its true authors, may have been influenced by Daoism. On the other hand, it seems clear to me that Daoism and Chinese Buddhism have had tremendous interaction over time, so I chose a phrasing which, for now, leaves open the possibility that there is more significance to this phrasing than simple “without action.” I hope to return to this sort of question in follow-up posts as we work our way through his (alleged) writings.

Summary and Closing Remarks

I would venture to say that, on the whole, our translations largely agree on the main points of the text. As a total amateur, I’m somewhat proud of feeling like I have mostly gotten it “right,” insofar as a translation of this type can be called right or wrong. We’ve agreed on the fundamental Buddha-nature, and the core teachings. There is perhaps some quibbling about what it means to be undisturbed by scripture/dogma. The text is either instructing us to be undisturbed by some kind of instruction, dogmatic or not, or it is addressing those who are undisturbed. As a reader of this text who wishes to follow this path, it doesn’t seem to matter – I am intended to be undisturbed either way. Therefore, it doesn’t seem to matter too much.

I have heard it said that “to make a translation is to choose an interpretation,” and I’ve sometimes wondered if some translations of Buddhist texts, Zen texts in particular, sometimes have tried to wash away some of the references to Buddhist metaphysics, ontology, or other aspects of the philosophy. I can see this serving a purpose in the form of making the texts more accessible to more people, something which is clearly valuable if one’s goal is to spread understanding of the dharma. Such interpretations are clear and simple, which is certainly desirable. On the other hand, I worry that by removing these references, something of value may be lost, so I’ve tried to pass every unclear phrase or potential reference through Soothill and Hodous to try to fully contextualize what I’m reading. This is the primary source of disagreement between the two translations. I do not say this to disparage Red Pine’s translation one bit. Rather, his translation has been a fruitful source of questions for my own study of the Chinese text, which has deepened my own understanding by giving me cause to look closer at what these words mean. Often times their English translations (e.g. “affliction” or “defilement”) by themselves are not significantly clearer than the Sanskrit word, which is meaningless to me as someone who does not read Sanskrit. If you only know what an affliction is through context, or through a literal definition, such as “mental states causing negative emotions,” you may have some sense of the word. I have found that passing those concepts through the Chinese enables me to use the ideographs to get a deeper sense of the conceptual underpinnings of these ideas, and adds quite a bit to the text. For these reasons, I’m going to continue to be a little bit paranoid about translation questions as they relate to the Buddhist vernacular. I feel it can only contribute to the discussion.

-白水