Lost in Translation

I know this is a Bill Murray movie title but it fits here. (Pic is of a rainy morning in Nikko.)

I am finding that Google Translate is a terrific tool for communicating. Not only am I using it but people here are mostly familiar with it too. Yesterday, an old cab driver (about my age, I suppose) pulled out his cell and began talking into it for my benefit.

I do have to be careful or it might backfire on me. A couple days ago I was literally lost, having walked quite a ways down a road before I realized that it was clearly not the road I had walked just the day before. Was I paralleling that road or going in a completely different direction? The landmarks were not there.

There was another old guy (pretty sure he was older than me) outside his home, a bit stooped. I whipped out my cell, opened Google Translate, and asked, “Am I going the right way?” Of course this was ridiculous as he had no idea where I was trying to go! I made the dumb assumption that he intuitively knew where I wanted to go.

So, he read my message, I think, and clearly looked perplexed. He finally indicated that, yes, I was going in the right direction. Pretty sure he was just hoping I would go away. So I gave him a pleasant, “Arigato,” smiled, and left him to his peace.

Was it the right way? I’ve been asking myself that, in typical Zen fashion, since. I finally made it back to where I needed to be but only after pestering two young women waiting for a walk light to help me know where I was at. They were so kind that they missed their walk light.

What does it mean to wonder if one way or another is right? Now, I won’t blame you if you stop reading here cause I’m gonna go all stinky Zen, but this is what novice’s do.

I’m beginning to think that the idea of “being lost” is one of those “Dharma gates.” Now, instead of trying to find some great definition of what a dharma gate is, I’m just going to make up my own. Here goes: A dharma gate is a way through to the real. So, in this case, was “lost” my reality? I was just there, standing on the road, looking around, wondering whether to turn right or left at the next corner or just keep going straight. That was the reality of the moment. That was it.

My feeling lost was a gate I needed to pass through. I didn’t know it as that in that moment. I just wanted to get back to my hotel. I don’t think I went through the dharma gate then but, thankfully, it remained open for me and, this morning, two days later, I believe I saw it for what it was. Was that old guy perplexed or wise? Perhaps an old Buddha plopped down there to provide some wisdom for the situation?

I don’t have an answer to this. Seems that dharma gates are not there to help one find answers. They, too, just are. May I walk through them and have, then or later, the insight to continue to find my way.