《美食祈禱和戀愛》Chapter 52 (112):修行必不可少
But when I try to go to the chant, all it does is agitate me. I mean, physically. I don't feel like I'm singing it so much as being dragged behind it. It makes me sweat. This is very odd because I tend to be one of life's chronically cold people, and it's cold in this part of India in January before the sun comes up. Everyone else sits in the chant huddled in wool blankets and hats to stay warm, and I'm peeling layers off myself as the hymn drones on, foaming like an overworked farm horse. I come out of the temple after the Gurugita and the sweat rises off my skin in the cold morning air like fog—like horrible, green, stinky fog. The physical reaction is mild compared to the hot waves of emotion that rock me as I try to sing the thing. And I can't even sing it. I can only croak it. Resentfully.
可是當我嘗試去吟誦，總是受到波動。我是說就生理而言。與其說我在吟唱，不如說是被拖着走。我汗流浹背。這奇怪得很，因爲我是寒性底子的人，而印度此區的一月份，日出前很冷。每個坐着吟誦的人都裹着羊毛毯、戴着羊毛帽保暖，我卻隨着讚歌的聲音剝去一件件衣服，有如勞動過度的馬兒直冒汗。古魯梵歌過後，我走出寺院，汗水在寒冽的清晨從皮膚蒸發，仿若霧氣——有如恐怖、慘綠、醺臭的霧氣。相較於吟唱時波動的情緒，生理反應不算什麼。我甚至唱不了，只能發出低沉沙啞的聲音，滿心憤恨。Did I mention that it has 182 verses?
我提過它有一百八十二節吧？So a few days ago, after a particularly yucky session of chanting, I decided to seek advice from my favorite teacher around here—a monk with a wonderfully long Sanskrit name which translates as "He Who Dwells in the Heart of the Lord Who Dwells Within His Own Heart." This monk is American, in his sixties, smart and educated. He used to be a classical theater professor at NYU, and he still carries himself with a rather venerable dignity. He took his mon-astic vows almost thirty years ago. I like him because he's no-nonsense and funny. In a dark moment of confusion about David, I'd once confided my heartache to this monk. He listened respectfully, offered up the most compassionate advice he could find, and then said, "And now I'm kissing my robes." He lifted a corner of his saffron robes and gave a loud smack. Thinking this was probably some super-arcane religious custom, I asked what he was doing. He said, "Same thing I always do whenever anyone comes to me for relationship advice. I'm just thanking God I'm a monk and I don't have to deal with this stuff anymore."
幾天前，在一次特別討人厭的吟唱時間過後，我決定徵求自己最喜愛的老師給我意見——他是一位僧人，有個長而妙的梵語名字，譯爲“他住在自己心中的神的心中居住的人”。這位僧人是六十多歲的美國人，一位精明幹練的知識分子。他曾是紐約大學的古典戲劇教授，身上仍帶有可敬的學者氣質。他在三十年前立下修道誓言。他之所以讓我喜歡，是因爲他既嚴肅又逗趣。在對大衛感到困惑的黑暗時刻，我曾向這位僧人傾訴痛苦。他鄭重其事地聽我說，提供所能找到的最慈悲的忠告，而後說：“現在我要親吻我的道袍。”他掀起薑黃色道袍的一腳，響亮地咂嘴一吻。我以爲這可能是某種超神祕的宗教習俗，於是詢問他的舉動之因。他說：“每當有人來找我做關係諮詢，我總是這樣做。我只是感謝神讓我身爲僧人，無須再面對這件事。”
So I knew I could trust him to let me speak frankly about my problems with the Gurugita. We went for a walk in the gardens together one night after dinner, and I told him how much I disliked the thing and asked if he could please excuse me from having to sing it anymore. He immediately started laughing. He said, "You don't have to sing it if you don't want to. Nobody around here is ever going to make you do anything you don't want to do."
因此我知道自己信得過他，可以讓我坦白地說出自己在吟唱古魯梵歌時所碰到的問題。某天晚上吃完晚飯，我們一道去庭院散步，我告訴他那首梵歌多麼令我討厭，問他能否允許我不再唱它。他立刻笑了起來。他說：“你不想的話就別唱。這裏沒有人會逼你做你不想做的事。”"But people say it's a vital spiritual practice."
“可是每個人都說它是必不可少的修行。”"It is. But I'm not going to tell you that you're going to go to hell if you don't do it. The only thing I'll tell you is that your Guru has been very clear about this—the Gurugita is the one es-sential text of this Yoga, and maybe the most important practice you can do, next to medita-tion. If you're staying at the Ashram, she expects you to get up for the chant every morning."
“沒錯。但我不會跟你說，你若不唱就會下地獄。我只能告訴你，你的導師很明確地看待這件事——古魯梵歌是這種瑜伽的必要文本，可能是最重要的修行，僅次於禪坐。你若待在道場，她會期待你每天早上起牀吟唱。”"It's not that I mind getting up early in the morning . . ."
“我不是介意一大早起來……”
