I've almost finished reading Donkey-saddle bridge 驢鞍橋. Almost.

師謂衆曰、或長老に人問、幽霊には、迷の者成るか、悟の者成るか。長老曰、迷の者成る也。悟の人幽霊に成ると云事なし。彼者曰、然らば達磨はなぜ片岡山に出て給ふや。但し迷の人なりや。長老無對。師代曰、幽霊には念が成る也。達磨は日本ゑ法を弘め度き念ある故に、片岡山に出て給ふ。迷の者は迷た念有り。悟の者は悟た念有り。

The master said, "A certain old man was once asked, 'Do those who are ignorant (迷の者) become ghosts, or those who are enlightened (悟の者)?' The old man said, 'Those who are ignorant do. Enlightened people becoming ghosts is like no Latinos in Manhattan: it just can't happen.' 'If that's so,' said the other guy, 'Why did Daruma [Bodhidharma] appear on Mount Kataoka? Was he an ignorant person?' The old man had no reply."

The master then explained what the old man had not been able to, saying, "It is mindfulness (念) that becomes a ghost. Daruma had the mindfulness of wanting to spread the Law to Japan, and so he appeared on Mount Kataoka. Those who are ignorant have ignorant mindfulness. Those who are enlightened have enlightened mindfulness."

What did you say about me?

There is a tendency for records of the words and deeds of a departed master to follow a certain pattern of argumentation: someone says "If A and B, then C. But C is absurd. What's up with that?", and then the master replies, without missing a beat, "You're overlooking X, which prevents C and causes D instead." Here, the structure is more satisfying: we get to enjoy the total pwnage of a substitute master before the boss steps in and resolves the contradiction. Like I said last time: readable.

On words: the key terms in this passage are 迷 (mayoi), 悟 (satori), and 念 (nen). These are all Buddhist jargon and so their translation in an isolated excerpt is both tricky and, arguably, moot.

迷 refers, roughly, to the state of attachment to the delusions that prevent one from grasping the truth (as outlined by Buddhism). 悟 is the exact opposite: it is the state of having become free of 迷 and thus experience truth.

My choice of "enlightenment" from the latter was more or less predetermined by my very first exposure to Buddhist writings of any kind: Paul Reps's Zen flesh, zen bones, which blew my arrogant and ridiculous teenaged mind. I had the Pelican paperback, acquired secondhand with tragicomic inscription: "ROBYN/ WITH MUCH LOVE FROM NICK 14-2-82/ HAPPY ZEN VALENTINE'S DAY." I have a hardcover copy of the book now, too, and in any case I've pieced together much of the content in its original Chinese and/or Japanese form... but I expect to be taking Nick's fliegende Geschenk down from the bookshelf every now and then until I either die or go blind.

Anyhow, I eventually deduced that the sentences like "with that, the monk was enlightened", which appear so often in Reps' translation, usually signal a 悟 in the original. And so the association, in my mind, between 悟 and "enlightenment" is to me as classical tonality was to pre-(arbitrary date here) composers: a foundation stone in my language-cathedral, something that could in theory be replaced, but not without first preparing some kind of linguistic Komposition mit zwölf nur aufeinander bezogenen Tönen to keep me from backsliding.

迷 being the opposite of 悟, its translation must therefore be the opposite of "enlightenment." There are many candidates for this "error" and "delusion" are possible, as are more metaphorical ideas about "straying" or what have you. Ultimately I chose "ignorance" because (a) it's short and flips easily between noun, adjective, and verb; (b) it's insulting, which was necessary for the Daruma bit to work; and (c) to me at least it suggests the absence of enlightenment more than the presence of obscurity, so it works well as an opposite.

念 was also more or less out of my hands. In Buddhist contexts 念 is often a Chinese translation of sati (Pali) or smṛti (Sanskrit), which is the seventh element of the Eightfold Path. "Mindfulness" is the standard English translation as far as I can tell, but it's a bit unsatisfying that unlike "enlightenment" vs "ignorance", "mindfulness" isn't really meaningful unless you're already familiar with Buddhism and, well, mindfulness.

Oh yeah: about Mount Kataoka. There is an old tale that Bodhidharma was seen on the road after his death, heading south from where he'd worked in China, carrying a single sandal. When asked where he was going, he would reply "Home." Eventually this story made its way back to the monks who'd buried him in China, who decided to open his grave and investigate the matter. When they did, all they found inside was a single sandal.

Later, in Japan, a story started going around about Prince Shōtoku stumbling over a starving beggar at the foot of Mount Kataoka, and giving him food, drink, and a purple raiment to keep him warm. The beggar died anyway, but when his grave was opened later (what was it with opening graves back then?), all that they found inside was... the purple raiment. A fiber match and a similar M.O. was enough to get a legend started back then, and, long story short, now Kataoka boasts a Daruma Temple.

Bonus link: long and involved article about Daruma, smallpox, and the color red by Bernard Faure.