分类： 译文

Alan Watts 《The Way of Zen》(禅道) 节选中译

第二部分 准则与修习

第二章 静坐无为

在生活上和在艺术上，远东诸国文化最为欣赏的都是自发性或自然性。它指的是一种确切无疑的真实，标志着未经研究或策划的行为。当一个人以一颗分裂的心来思考和行动时，他的一部分站在另一部分的旁边，前者或干涉、或控制、或谴责、或赞赏后者。这时，他的状态就像是一口破钟在发出沙哑的声音。但是一个人的心，或者说“自性” (true nature)，是不可能分裂的。根据某一首禅诗，心是这样的：

如刀能割不自割，如眼能看不自看。

“分裂”这一错觉来自于心的企图：它既想成为自己，也想成为关于它自身的观念。这是对事实与符号的严重混淆。要想结束这样的错觉，心必须停止试图作用于它自己以及它的一连串经验，必须摒弃被我们所称为“自我”的那种立场。这个意思在另一首禅诗里是这么表达的：

兀然无事做，春来草自生。[1]

         这里所说的“自生”是心与世界自然的运作方式，就好像眼睛自己能看，耳朵自己就能听，嘴巴也能自己打开，用不着拿手指去把两片嘴唇分开。有一首偈子说道：

         青山自青山，白云自白云。

就禅对自然性的强调而言，它显然是道家思想的继承者。禅把自发性的行为看做是“妙用”，这恰好是道家用“德”一语表达的含义，只不过禅的“妙用”增加了“神通”这一言外之意。可是不论对于道家还是对于禅宗，“神通”都与纯粹感知觉意义上的“超人奇迹”无关。相反，自发行为的“神通”或“妙用”意味着它完全由人发出，然而却并没有任何痕迹显示出它曾被预先谋划。

         自发行为的这种性质极其微妙，非常难以用语言来形容。有个故事，讲的是一位禅宗和尚听到某个至亲去世的消息时流泪了。他的徒弟指出，出家人表现出这种私人化的依恋情感很不得体。他回答道：“别犯傻了！我流眼泪是因为我想流。”日本的白隐慧鹤禅师在学禅早期听说了中国唐代岩头禅师的故事后，曾为其深深困扰。据传，岩头禅师在被强盗杀掉的时候曾以最高的音量叫喊。[2] 然而这个疑惑在白隐禅师悟道的时刻消失了；在禅宗界，他自己的往生也因展示了人的情感而被大加称扬。另一方面，在十六世纪，日本临济宗的快川绍喜方丈与他的门徒任凭战国大名织田信长的军队将他们活活烧死，彼时还以坐禅的姿势平静地保持着入定。诸如此类自相矛盾的“自然性”看上去特别不可思议，但是有可能线索就藏在云门禅师[3]的说法中：“走路的时候就走路。坐的时候就坐着。最重要的是，不要摇摆不定。”这是因为，自然性的最本质要素便是未分裂之心的真诚，它不会在多种选择之间犹疑。因此当岩头禅师叫喊时，他发出的叫声能让方圆数里的人都听到。

         不过假如我们认为这个“自然的真诚”通过遵守“凡你手所当做的事，要尽力去做”[4]这类老生常谈的规训就能发生的话，那就大错特错了。岩头禅师叫喊之时，他不是为了要顺从自然，也不是先打定主意要喊叫、然后再以全部的能量来实施自己的决定。在计划好的自然性和刻意的真诚之中，都有着彻底的矛盾。如果人们这样做了，那其实不是发现“本心”(original mind)，反倒是遮蔽了它。因而，想要顺从自然是一种“痴”(affection)，设法不努力去顺从自然也是一种“痴”。这正如一首禅诗说的：

         不可以有心得，不可以无心求。

但是，这种复杂到荒谬地步的令人丧气的窘境来自于使用“心”时人们所犯的一个简单且低级的错误。当我们理解了这一点，就不存在什么矛盾和困难了。错误显然产生于这个企图：从“心”中分裂出一部分来与它自己对立。可是，要把这一点理解得很清楚，我们就得深入考察有关心的“控制论”说法，把心的“自我校正”机制的基本模式弄清楚。

         人的心灵能够出离日常生活并对其进行反思，能意识到自身的存在，能评析自己的进程，这正是心的天赋的一部分。心拥有的某些东西类似于一个“反馈”系统。反馈系统是通信工程学上的一个术语，是“自动化”的基本原则之一，意即让机器实现自我控制。反馈使机器能够得知自己运转的效果并能修正自己的进程。最为我们熟悉的例子或许是调节房屋供暖系统的电子恒温计。恒温计与供暖系统相连，通过设定目标温度的上限和下限，当室温降至下限时，它便自动打开锅炉的开关，而当室温升至上限时，则使锅炉停止工作。这样，房子的温度便可以保持在目标区间内。恒温计为锅炉提供了一种感应灵敏的机制，它极其初级地类似于人类的自我意识。[5]

         反馈系统的正常调节从来都是一个复杂的机械问题。原本的机器，比如锅炉，是由反馈系统来调节的，可是这个反馈系统本身也需要校正。因此要把一个机械系统变得越来越自动化，就会需要用到一系列的反馈系统：由第二套来校正第一套，第三套修正第二套，等等。然而这样的结构存在着明显的限制，因为超过某一范围之后，这个结构就会被它自己的复杂性给搞崩溃。例如说，信息由外至内穿过一系列的控制系统所需要的时间可能会过长，因而等它到达它所服务于的机器时，已经太晚了，丧失了它的效用。类似地，当人们对于即将采取的行动思考得过分认真和细微时，等他们做好决定以后，也很可能已经来不及行动了。换句话说，人不能无止境地修正自己进行“自我校正”的方式。某个信息必须很快就出现在某一层的反馈系统中，成为关于问题的最终权威。不信任这一权威会让人没法行动，而且整个系统也会瘫痪。

         系统也有可能以另一方式而瘫痪。每个反馈系统都需要有一个容许“滞后”或错误的余地。我们要是想让恒温计绝对地精确——就是说，假如我们为了使室温恒定在七十华氏度，而把室内温度的上限和下限设定得极为接近——整个系统就会崩溃。因为当温度的上限与下限重合时，向锅炉发出开和关指令的信号也会重合！如果七十度既是上限也是下限，“开”指令的信号就同时也是“停”的信号；“是”意味着“否”，“否”也意味着“是”。于是机器会开始“颤抖”，即开即关，即关即开，直到它崩裂成为一堆碎片。这一机械系统太敏感了，它表现出来的征候和人的焦虑惊人地相似。因为当一个人达到了这么高的自我觉知、自我控制的程度，以至于他无法对自己“放手”时，他便会在“是”与“否”的两个极端之间犹疑难决、摇摆不定。这正好就是禅宗所讲的“生死轮回，相续不断”，因为佛教中的轮回（samsara）概念指的就是一切恶性循环的原型。[6]

         人的生活原本就蕴含于行动之中，蕴含于“生活在‘如是’（suchness）的具体世界中”。可是我们具有通过反思——也就是说，通过思考、通过拿实际的世界与记忆或所思所想（也即心对外界的反应）作比较——来控制行为的能力。记忆是通过多多少少都有些抽象的形象而组织起来的，例如文字、标识、简化了的图形，以及其他可以一个接一个地被非常快速地检视的符号。心正是在这些记忆、思想和符号的基础上构建了它对它自己的看法。这一点与恒温计的机制相吻合：恒温计提供关于自身过去工作状况的信息，系统据此来校正它自己。当然，为了能正常工作，心-身系统必须得信任这些信息，要不然“系统瘫痪”很快就会发生，它是由试图回想起我们是否把一切都精确地记住了而引起的。

         然而，要想让供给记忆的信息能跟得上趟，心-身系统就得不断地“靠自己”来行动。它不能太过依赖于于它记录的信息。在信息源和行动源之间，必须得有一个“滞后”，或者说，距离。这并不是说行动源在接受信息之前一定要犹豫一下，而是说行动源不能把自己当成信息源。我们看到，当锅炉对恒温计响应得太快时，它不可能不同时既要做出行动又要停下来，也肯定会同时既要停下来又试图让系统开始工作。当对确定性和安全感的渴望促使人们把心和它所感知到的它的形象认为是同一种东西时，前述现象就发生在了我们身上。在这种情况下，心无法放开它自己，它感觉到它不应该做它正在做的事情，并且它没有在做的事情反而是它该做的；它觉得它不该是它现在所是的东西，而应该成为它目前所不是的那个东西。更进一步地说，人们为了永远停留在“好”或“幸福”的状态而做出努力，就好像是为了保持恒定的七十度而把室温的下限和上限定在同一温度一样。

          把心和它自己的形象错认为是同一种东西会造成“系统瘫痪”，因为形象是固定的——它已经过去了，完结了。但它是一个行动中的人的固定形象，因此，依附于它就会带来持续的矛盾和冲突。前面提及过云门禅师的说法：“走路的时候就走路。坐的时候就坐着。最重要的是，不要摇摆不定。”也就是说，心若不放弃在某个特定的范围之外控制它自己——而这个企图其实不可能实现——它就没有办法运行。心必须放开自己，它既得信任自己的记忆与思考，也得自发地运作，依靠自己而进入未知的领域。

         这就是为什么禅看起来经常站在思考的反面、为什么它把自己的基本原则描述为“无心”或“无念”，也是为什么禅宗祖师们在回答徒弟的问题时，要通过即时的和未经预先考虑的答案来展示禅的精髓。有一次有人问云门禅师佛法的终极秘密是什么，他回答道：“饺子！”用日本泽庵禅师[7]的话来说：

         如果有个和尚问：“佛是什么？”禅师可以举起拳头；当别人问他：“佛教的精义是什么？”他甚至可以在提问者说完问题之前就大声说出“李树盛开的花枝”或“庭院中的柏树”。要点在于，回答问题的这颗心不在任何地方“停下来”，而是要径直回答，完全不去想答案是否妥帖。[8]

这个例子说明的就是如何让心自行运作。

李沁云

2016年1月译

[1] 出自唐代懒瓒禅师所作的《乐道歌》。——译者注

[2] 引自《传灯录》卷26。

[3] 云门文偃禅师（公元864~949年），姑苏嘉兴（今浙江嘉兴）人，唐代高僧，是禅宗中的云门宗创始人。——译者注

[4] 引自《圣经·旧约》的《传道书9:10》。——译者注

[5] 我不想过分强调心与自动控制系统间的类比，所以我并未宣称心-身“只不过”是一种极为复杂的机械自动化系统。我只是想要指出机器在“反馈”过程中涉及的一些问题与人的自我意识和自我控制问题相似。除此以外，机械装置与有机生命体对我来说在原则上——这是说，就它们的实际功能而言——是不同的，因为前者是制造出来的，而后者是生长出来的。我们以机械术语来解释某些有机体的运作过程所意味着的有机体的机械化程度，只不过是相当于以算术术语解释商贸活动所意味着的商贸活动的算术化程度。

[6] 参看Jurgen Reusch与Gregory Bateson合著的《传播：精神病学的社会发源地》(Communication: the Social Matrix of Psychiatry, Norton; New York, 1950)一书（尤其是第八章）中对机械和逻辑矛盾与神经官能症之间的类比所进行的精彩讨论

[7] 泽庵宗彭（1573-1645)，日本临济宗禅师，是江户初期临济宗大德寺派的高僧，精通诗歌、俳句和茶道。——译者注

[8] 引自铃木大拙（D. T. Suzuki）的《禅宗及其对日本文化的影响》（Zen Buddhism and Its Influence on Japanese Culture, Eastern Buddhist Society, Kyoto, 1938），p.80。此书的现通行版本可能是《禅与日本文化》(Zen and Japanese Culture)。——译者注

【“Love & Death” Trilogy】No.2: Time of the Roses

            He had been standing for almost half an hour by the window. If one looked out from the window, one could see beneath this building coiled overpasses tangled together. At four o’clock in the afternoon, there was constant traffic outside, and from high up, each car looked as if it were a small moving box. He did not look out, but had been leaning against the window, looking at her, who was sitting on the couch. Eyes tightly closed, she had a mesmerized expression on her face. There were several red roses standing in a vase on the tea table in front of the sofa, yet the color of the red suit on her was denser than that of those flowers. After being silent for a while, she started talking. She asked him: Do we still have time? He replied: Of course. Then she said to him: Every day before going to sleep, I think of you, you stand right before this window, I have only seen you standing in front of this window.

            He asked: How do I look in your mind?

            You’re tall, wearing a gray plaid shirt, you lean against the window and speak to me, but I don’t hear you clearly. She finished these words, opened her eyes, and folded her hands over her chest. Right now he was wrapped in a black suit, the two big under-eye pouches giving away his tiredness. He became interested in what she said, and asked her: Then what do you want to hear from me?

            She closed her eyes tightly again, as if trying to recall something. Then she said: You should tell me a secret; this secret is about a river.

            Where’s the river? He got a little confused.

            She said: The river is nearby, the spring season lingers forever in this place, the river is covered with big roses, and they are ceaselessly floating in the river, no one knows whether they are touching the river or the river is touching the roses, soon the roses fill the curvy body of the river with their silent words, you should lean over and listen to these roses, you should tell me what they tell you. Her hands trembled slightly, and a small sigh sounded in her. 

            He did not say anything. He needed to think over it. One minute later, she opened her eyes again, and said: The windowsill crumpled your suit jacket, you actually should have worn a gray plaid shirt, and then it would have been alright.

            He was speechless for a moment, then said: I don’t have a gray plaid shirt, and what did you just say, roses, and a river?

            She nodded and replied: Roses are the most important, even their thorns are so stunning, they are pricking themselves using their thorns, when their blood drips on my suit, one can’t differentiate the color of the blood from the color of my clothes, and those roses are far more beautiful than the ones in this vase, because they are lovers of the river, yet the river cannot moisten them, only time can, I hope you could spend some time to look after them.

            He still did not understand her. He asked: Could you tell me where these roses are?

            Roses are in the river, the river is near you. After saying these words, she took a few deep breaths and smiled at him. She got up and left before he could continue his inquiry. He stayed for a while by the window, imagined that she entered a car and then disappeared into the flow of traffic. When the setting sun shone its light into the window, he opened a notebook at the desk, and wrote down words such as “rose” and “river.”

            He thought of the scene she described to him before falling asleep that night, but only for a short instant. He did not know why the roses would float in the river. Perhaps because he was too tired, he fell asleep soon after turning over to lie on his side. The next day he looked into an encyclopedia. Under the entry of rose, there was the following description:

            Rose is also known as thorn flower, wandering flower, and heart-piercing flower. The plant is a shrub in the family of rosaceae. Its stem is prickly and tomentose.

            The roses on the tea table already withered a little. He hesitated for a moment, but nonetheless made a phone call to the flower shop downstairs and asked them to send in a new bouquet of roses. I want some red roses in full bloom, he stressed to the florist. When the roses arrived, even the water-drops on the petals were fresh. Some of them flew into his hands.

            When she came in, she did not seem to notice that the flowers had been replaced. She sat on the couch, her very fair calves showing beneath her red skirt. And she asked him: Every time when you look out from this window, what do you think of?

            He went to the window and looked out, and said: I often wonder where these people in the cars are going, but, why did you ask this question?

            She moved her gaze away from him, stared into the sky through the window, and said: Those people are lost on their way of going to that river, they probably could never reach there, but they still do not know this fact which would make them feel sad, in fact, they know nothing, the life and death of a rose have nothing to do with them, in that river, the roses are lonely. She paused for a short while, looked at him and asked: Do you love me?

            The traffic went smoothly outside the building and was never interrupted. He turned around to look at her. His eyes met right with her focused gaze on him. He was not able to interpret the meaning of her facial expression, yet he found it difficult to hide his uneasiness at this point. After a while, he said: Whether I love you or not, this should not be a matter between us.

            Soon afterwards she asked: Do you know that I love you? She continued without waiting for a response from him: Under the sun, the color of the roses is reflected onto the river, seen from afar, it is a red river, when the roses pierce themselves with their own thorns and bleed, the river looks more scarlet, all of that sticky, dense water is the precious blood of the roses, you should take care of these roses, they are far more enchanting than the ones in your room.

            Her words made him feel he was in a fog, and that his own words diminished to nothing in the face of hers. While he sent her out, she looked up at him and asked him again in a serious tone: Do you know I love you?He was once again tongue-tied, and could do no more than shrug his shoulders and say: Sorry, I think you might be too tired.

            That night, the look on her face when she raised her question was constantly emerging in his mind. He decided to solve this riddle, however, he thought of that river again a few moments later. In a hazy sleepiness he thought he saw a gray plaid shirt flowing in the river along with roses to somewhere that no one knew about.

            She would ask the question for a third time, and that day came sooner than he expected. She was in her red suit, remaining quiet for a long time, until the moment when the setting sun sprinkled its light onto the windowsill. She got up from the sofa, staring at him, who was standing by the window, and said: Your jacket has wrinkled a bit, you are supposed to arrive at that river as soon as you can, and then tell me what you have heard from those roses. She sighed and went to the window and opened it. She asked him: Do you know that I love you?

            At this time he was so close to her. He could see the light green veins underneath the skin on her face as well as her trembling fingertips. Finally he said: Yes, I know that, but I’m not clear about that river. She looked up at him and said slowly: All of that river is now covered with roses, and its body is getting heavier and heavier, because the roses are stabbing themselves and losing more blood, the blood of the roses has a fragrant weight, the river has turned into a deep crimson color, yet it does not stop flowing.

            Now every breath of hers was heavier than the last one. They were so heavy that he could only hear these breaths but almost did not hear what she was saying. Long after she threw herself out of the window, he remembered her pale pink lips. Only then could he recall that she seemed to be saying: Every single rose is a day of the future.

            In that last moment, he was watching her body falling down from the 30th floor of this high-rise building. There was no time for him to have any thought, and only in a trance-like state did he see her falling like a red rose into a solid river. 

            His eyes were sore and wet, but a few minutes later he stabilized himself and returned to the desk. He opened a large notebook, wanting to write something down. Right then, the door was pushed open and she walked in, with her red suit completely covered under a white doctor’s gown. She went to the couch, sat down, and said to him: It’s again our conversation time, how are you feeling today?

Qinyun Li, August 18, 2007 in Beijing

Translated by Qinyun Li in 2017