256 - Do Your Own Practice: Spiritual Translation Versus Transformation

One way to frame our practice is to say it has a “translation” aspect and a “transformation” aspect. Translation means to apply Buddhist teachings and practice to our life to free self and other from suffering, and live with greater wisdom and compassion. Transformation means to seek transcendence of the self and all of its limited views through a relentless process of inquiry, for the sake of an even more profound and stable liberation. I discuss how each aspect is valuable, how they differ, and clarifying what you want out of your own spiritual path.

Quicklinks to Article Content:
Translation Versus Transformation
The “Translation” or “Application” Aspect of Practice
When Translation “Ceases to Console”
The “Transformation” Aspect of Practice
Clarity and Doing Your Own Practice

Translation Versus Transformation

I spent last week in an intensive silent meditation retreat, Rohatsu sesshin. I always come back from sesshin wanting to talk about what a valuable experience it is, but instead I will discuss some of the value of sesshin while placing it in the larger context of our Buddhist practice as a whole.

I’m going to frame our lifelong path of practice as having two aspects: translation, and transformation. My teachers (Gyokuko and Kyogen Carlson) often used these two terms, but until I went to do research for this episode I didn’t know the terms “translational spirituality” versus “transformative spirituality” were coined by the modern writer and philosopher Ken Wilber. In some senses, this “translation versus transformation” is another way to phrase what I’ve been calling “karma work” versus “awakening work,” but not exactly. Sometimes it’s helpful to reframe things for the sake of new insight, without worrying too much about how one frame relates to another.

With some effort, I tracked down an essay in which Wilber presents his ideas about this subject (if you quote someone on the web, please include a citation of the source!). This is from his essay “Translation versus Transformation,” which can be found in the volume, The Essential Ken Wilber: An Introductory Reader:[i]

With translation, the self is simply given a new way to think or feel about reality. The self is given a new belief—perhaps holistic instead of atomistic, perhaps forgiveness instead of blame, perhaps relational instead of analytic. The self then learns to translate its world and its being in the terms of this new belief or new language or new paradigm, and this new and enchanting translation acts, at least temporarily, to alleviate or diminish the terror inherent in the heart of the separate self…

~ But with transformation, the very process of translation itself is challenged, witnessed, undermined, and eventually dismantled… at some point in our maturation process, translation itself, no matter how adequate or confident, simply ceases to console. No new beliefs, no new paradigm, no new myths, no new ideas, will staunch the encroaching anguish. Not a new belief for the self, but the transcendence of the self altogether, is the only path that avails.[ii]

To rephrase this in Buddhist words, the translation aspect of practice means to translate Buddhist teachings and practices into your everyday life, helping you live with less suffering and greater wisdom and compassion. The transformation aspect of practice means to seek transcendence of the self and all of its limited views through a relentless process of inquiry, for the sake of an even more profound and stable liberation.

I’ll talk more about my definitions of translation and transformation in a moment, but first I want to make a few disclaimers as I use Wilber’s terms. Frankly, I hesitate to refer to Wilber’s essay at all, because there is much in it I disagree with and think is potentially harmful. I have no interest in making this episode into a commentary on his work, but in case you follow up on my citation and read Wilber’s essay on transformation and translation, here are my objections:

First, Wilber admits that he speaks in a “belittling” manner about translational spirituality, in which he says, “the self is, at least temporarily, made happy in its grasping, made content in its enslavement, made complacent in the face of the screaming terror that is in fact its innermost condition.”[iii] He concedes that we all have to do some translation in order to maintain our sanity but is clear that the real work lies in transformation. I find this presentation very dualistic and believe that authentic translational Buddhist practice is beneficial, noble, and necessary, not superficial nor conducive to complacency. I will explain more of my thinking later.

Second, Wilber describes the process and result of transformational spirituality in a very negative and violent manner. I imagine, elsewhere, he speaks of the wonder of liberation, but in “Translation versus Transformation” he says, “with radical transformation, the self itself is inquired into, looked into, grabbed by its throat and literally throttled to death.”[iv] I find this description unhelpful, inaccurate, and potentially dangerous.

Emptiness must be experienced in the process of transformation, but there is no inherent self to grab and throttle, let alone kill. The self is transcended but not destroyed. As Dogen says, the dewdrop reflects the whole moon, and is not destroyed in the process. Violent imagery like this encourages destructive dissociation and internal battles that waste our energy and can damage our mental health. There is some truth in Wilber’s statement, “Transformative spirituality, authentic spirituality… does not render the self content, it renders it undone” (which I will get into later) but overall, I find his descriptions of transformation as “breaking” and “shattering” the world, and causing the “death” of the self, to be dualistic and misleading.

The “Translation” or “Application” Aspect of Practice

Nonetheless, I think Wilber differentiates two aspects of spiritual practice – translation versus transformation – in a way that can be helpful if the concepts are used skillfully. From here on out I will use these concepts in my own way, with all due respect to Wilber, and do not claim to be presenting his vision.

First, let’s explore the translation aspect of practice. Note that I’m talking about it as an “aspect” of practice, not an alternative, separate, or inferior path. Another, perhaps better, way to label this part of what we do is “application.” We encounter the Buddhist teachings and translate or apply them to our own life, helping us live with less suffering and with greater wisdom and compassion.

For example, we learn the teachings about dukkha, or the dissatisfactoriness caused by our desire for things to be other than how they are. When we apply this teaching to our life it helps relieve a great deal of suffering. We learn the teaching of the five skandhas – that our being is composed of form, sensation, perception, mental formations, and consciousness, and all of those component parts are impermanent and cannot be grasped. Exploring this in our own experience, it can help us feel less attached to any particular aspect of our being. We study the moral precepts and use them to guide our life, noticing how our inclination to break a precept is usually symptom of self-attachment. We practice being more generous, kind, gentle, and patient, and find through our direct experience that this results in a better life. We sit zazen, creating a sacred space for silence and stillness in the midst of our activities. We study the self, slowly but surely unraveling our karmic knots so we become freer from reactivity, anger, and fear.

Buddhist teachings and practices are beneficial from the beginning to the end of our practice. They are beneficial even if we only apply only one teaching or translate only one practice into action in our daily lives. Because of translation practice we become more aware of our thinking, speech, and behavior. The list of benefits is endless. Through translation practice we become better parents, children, partners, friends, and citizens. The Buddha said his single purpose was to relieve suffering, and translation practice does this in countless ways. Whatever else we do – even if we’re intently focused on the “transformation” aspect of practice – our practice is worth little if we don’t translate it, or apply it, to our actual life. Even if we are a monastic in a monastery, the bulk of our work is translation practice.

When Translation “Ceases to Console”

When Wilber says that translation practice “render[s] the self content,” he has a point. I would say we’re lucky if such practice renders us content. Whether it does depends to a large extent on our life circumstances, both internal and external. Our life may be full of pain, difficulty, grief, and turmoil; if so, no amount of translation practice is likely to make us truly content. Or our life may be fortunate and peaceful, but for some reason something inside us remains unsatisfied. As Wilber says in the passage I quoted earlier, translation “no matter how adequate or confident, simply ceases to console.” There’s no accounting for why one person feels truly content in a given set of circumstances while another, living a very similar life by all appearances, is filled with despair or existential angst.

What’s wrong with being content? In one sense, nothing at all. If you are content, especially if you are practicing to relieve suffering and to live with greater wisdom and compassion, more power to you! Later I will discuss the importance of doing your own practice without comparing it to that of others, or to some idea of how it should be.

If you’re not content, though, you know it. One Buddhist way to describe this state is samvega, as I discussed in Episode 86 – Samvega and Pasada: Two Buddhist Emotions Indispensable for Practice. I will once again share a short quote from Thanissaro Bhikkhu on the samvega:

It’s a hard word to translate because it covers such a complex range—at least three clusters of feelings at once: the oppressive sense of shock, dismay, and alienation that comes with realizing the futility and meaninglessness of life as it’s normally lived; a chastening sense of our own complicity, complacency, and foolishness in having let ourselves live so blindly; and an anxious sense of urgency in trying to find a way out of the meaningless cycle.[v]

In Zen, the motivation for seeking beyond translation practice is sometimes called the “Great Doubt.” As I said in Episode 236 – Spiritual Inquiry Part 5: Koans and Awakening: “Our Great Doubt is about the nature of our very existence. It is not affected by our karma. It’s not about the myriad details of our lives – our personality, childhood experiences, achievements, failures, relationships, health challenges, opinions, values, etc. My Great Doubt is not fundamentally different than your Great Doubt. Simply to be alive presents us with tension and mystery. What is the nature of this fleeing life? Who am I? This is also called the Great Matter of Life and Death, and we share it with all beings. In fact, we share it with all Being. As long as we have not resolved our Great Doubt, we have not identified or addressed the root cause of our fear and longing.”

The “Transformation” Aspect of Practice

One of my favorite things about Buddhism is that it gives us somewhere to go, something to do, if we experience samvega or Great Doubt – if life as it’s normally lived fails to fully satisfy, even though we are doing translation practice. It tells us that our intuition is right – that there can be more to life, that there are other ways of being and perceiving that can address and relieve our despair and existential angst. How wonderful! Our tradition then aims us toward the “transformation” aspect of practice.

I see the transformation aspect of our practice as being essentially synonymous with what I’ve called “awakening work.” In Episode 236 I said awakening work “involves striving for a direct, personal experience of the deeper truths of our existence – truths we share with all life.” Specifically, it means trying to awaken to what I’ve been calling “Reality-with-a-Capital-R” in my “One Reality, Many Descriptions” series, including the truths of Emptiness, Suchness, and Buddha-Nature. At the beginning of that series, I explained:

“Buddhism is not about deities, supernatural powers, the afterlife, the cultivation of special spiritual capacities, or the achievement of transcendent states. It is purely and simply about seeing what’s true. The promise of Buddhism – the reason it encourages you to seek the truth – is that the truth is a wonderful thing to wake up to. Contrary to what we might fear, Reality is not scary, bleak, hellish, or devoid of meaning. Instead, once we wake up to how things really are, we realize that it’s our delusions which cause suffering, not Reality. Seeing Reality clearly is liberating. It gives us access to unconditional peace of mind, equanimity, compassion, and even joy.”

When we are transformed by insight into Reality-with-a-Capital-R, it can indeed feel – at times – like our small sense of self has been “rendered undone,” as Wilber phrases it. We see how our entire view of ourselves, our lives, the world, and what is meaningful is constructed by our own minds. Previously, we have assumed our view to be synonymous with the truth and have relied on it completely. Even a small glimpse of the Reality that is infinitely bigger than our previous view makes us start to question our assumptions.

A significant awakening to Reality-with-a-Capital-R can leave us feeling like we’re an actor in a play who has suddenly realized, for the very first time, that we’re in a play. Up until our realization, we’ve been completely caught up in the drama, lamenting when something terrible happens to our character and rejoicing when something wonderful happens to be written into the script for us. When we realize we’re in a play – that is, that the point is not the fortunes of our individual character, but on the beauty or edifying quality of the story as a whole – such a shift in perspective can be quite disorienting. Even somewhat traumatic. But the ultimate result of the shift is positive; once we start to suspect the whole thing is just a play, it’s impossible to take it all so personally.

If we continue with this metaphor of realizing we’re in a play, we need to depart from a normal narrative in order to keep it accurate in terms of our Buddhist practice. In practice, we wander through the open door of the theater into the daylight and take some time to absorb the enormity of our perspective shift. This changes everything. But – we are an actor. That’s our job, our life. We love it. We are needed. So, we return to the theater. We inhabit our character again, employing passionate method-acting to make our performance as authentic and moving as possible. When our acting is really good, we forget we are in a play.

Unfortunately, when I use the metaphor of a play it may sound like I’m suggesting an awakened or transformed life is insincere – that after awakening we’re just faking it, and don’t really care about other people or the plot of the play. The play metaphor breaks down here, because true awakening leaves us more caring and compassionate than ever – but in a different way than before. Even as we go about our lives, engaging fully, contributing wholeheartedly, feeling great sympathy with suffering beings, there is always part of us that is aware of a larger perspective. That perspective frees us from being overly self-centered and gives us greater equanimity.

I discussed the nature of awakening, or enlightenment, in Episode 101 – The Koan of Awakening: Do You Know the Essential Truth Yet, Or Not? It’s important to understand nothing is destroyed in Buddhist awakening. Our belief in the inherent, enduring, and independent nature of self will never be as strong and may, at times, even fall away, but this does not happen due to a dualistic process of internal assault as described by Wilber. It naturally falls away or decreases in importance as we perceive Reality-with-a-Capital-R.

Very briefly, I want to say something about the role of sesshin, or multi-day, silent retreat, in our practice. When it comes to the transformation aspect of practice, this is by far the most effective and reliable tool we have. I’ll stop short of saying sesshin is necessary, in the sense that you can’t awaken to Reality-with-a-Capital-R without it. If you meditate a lot and have a good teacher and great passion for the Dharma, anything is possible. However, it is very unlikely that most of us will be able to sufficiently penetrate our own thick layer of assumptions, views, attachments, and habits outside of the simplified and intensive environment of silent retreat. Insights definitely happen outside of sesshin, but often they are made possible by the work we do in sesshin. I discuss sesshin in detail in these two episodes:

Episode 21 – Sesshin: 24-7 Silent Meditation Retreats

Episode 189 – Collecting the Heart-Mind: A Celebration of Sesshin

Do you need to do silent retreat if you’re not all that interested in the transformation aspect of practice? If you’re pretty content with your life as it is, and simply enjoy the way Buddhist practice supports and informs it? Of course not. It won’t hurt if you do sesshin, of course, although you may find yourself strongly resisting some of the more arduous aspects of retreat – like sitting for 8 hours a day, or having to abide by a communal, 24-hour schedule – if you aren’t much motivated by samvega or Great Doubt, or at least some kind of greed for enlightenment experiences.

One more note: Going to sesshin does not result in instant awakening or transformation. Like everything else in Zen (and Buddhism), it is a practice that ends up most effective if you commit yourself to it without too many expectations about results or timelines. You’re extremely unlikely to awaken to Emptiness in a meaningful way in one sesshin. Or two. Or three. However, if you keep going to sesshin, it will have an effect on you.

**Clarity and Doing Your Own Practice**

To summarize, then, the translation aspect of practice is necessary for all of us and involves applying the Buddhist/Zen teachings and practices to our lives – resulting in less suffering for self and others, and greater wisdom, compassion, and skillfulness. The transformation aspect of practice means to seek transcendence of the self and all of its limited views through a relentless process of inquiry, for the sake of an even more profound and stable liberation. Some of us are driven toward transformation by samvega, or Great Doubt. There’s a Zen saying that I won’t bother to research the origin of at this time: Small doubt, small realization. Great doubt, great realization.

What if you don’t feel samvega, the spiritual or existential angst that troubles some of us?

I confess that in my early years of practice, I felt superior to those who seemed less troubled than I was. Those who seemed truly content in their lives I especially judged as being shallow or deluded. At one point, however, my perspective shifted. I had gotten rid of all my worldly possessions and responsibilities and had run off to a Zen monastery. I spent most of my days in silence and got to sit sesshin once a month. All I had to do was contemplate the Dharma. One day it occurred to me that maybe I was the one with the problem, not the people I knew who were content – appreciating their lives and trying to be good parents, children, partners, and friends.

Now I think what’s most important is that we clarify our own life and practice and wholeheartedly commit ourselves to it without comparing ourselves to others. I was reflecting on this episode and asked myself, “What’s your point? Why bring this whole ‘translation’ versus ‘transformation’ thing up, anyway? How is it helpful?” In a worst-case scenario, people will get fixated on these terms and use them to judge themselves and others. “Oh, so-and-so is just a translation guy.” Or, “I’m not very spiritual adept, I’d better stick to translation.” Or “Translation is a lesser path; I’m going for transformation!” If you find yourself thinking any of these things, please try to put this whole podcast episode out of your mind as quickly as possible.

What is potentially helpful about this whole “translation” versus “transformation” paradigm? First, if you are fairly content with your life and satisfied with what I’m calling the translation aspect of practice, I hope you will clarify this for yourself and accept it. I hope you never feel like a “lesser” Buddhist or member of a Sangha because you aren’t tormented by existential angst. I hope you will embrace your practice as completely legitimate and wonderful, even if you never feel called to do something crazy like go to a retreat and meditate for 8 hours a day. I myself have been guilty, at times, of speaking of Buddhism as being fundamentally about awakening. Some people will say it is, but I think this discounts a good 90% of the practice, including daily mindfulness and zazen, morality, and right livelihood and speech.

Second, if you are drawn toward transformation, I similarly hope you clarify this for yourself and accept it. Understand that transformation is a whole different kettle of fish from translation practice, although all translation practices prepare us for awakening and establish habits of body, speech, and mind that accord with Reality-with-a-Capital-R even before we awaken to it. If you can, prioritize zazen and silent retreat. Work with a teacher. Challenge yourself. According to Buddhism, it is an extremely rare and precious opportunity to be given a human life plus an appetite for the Dharma plus an opportunity to practice.