Lost in Translation: Perspectives from a Buddhist monk, a Dharma Translator, and a Yogini on how Buddhist Philosophy Combats Climate Change

by Camila Young
English loves to cling to absolutes—the black and white. “Japanese is very grey,” Rumi commented.
Rumi Takahashi, a Buddhist yoga practitioner and teacher who lives in Nara, Japan, explained the difficulty in translating Japanese philosophy and Buddhist teaching into English. She noted how the nature of the Japanese language lets words change meaning depending on the relationship you are referring to, and in contrast, English tends to tug at absolutes. A major facet of Buddhism is embracing the Middle Way, typified by moderation and dynamic understanding, so the ambiguity of words in Japanese lends itself to easier teaching of the Middle Way.
A similar sentiment was shared by Jeremy Morrelli, whose experience translating Lamas from Tibetan to English gives him insight into how linguistics plays a large role in the understanding of the Dharma, the path of rightness. For instance, there are more words for mind and awareness in Tibetan than in English. This makes the English elaboration of cerebral concepts more constricted. Furthermore, there is not an English word that describes the inseparability of mind and appearance or the separation of bliss and emptiness.

Jeremy has been involved with Tibetan Buddhism for more than 40 years, and throughout his time, he has been in discussions that grapple with what the truest representation of Buddhism is for an English-speaking audience. One such discussion was how to translate “Rigse,” the moment in someone’s life in which they realize they belong in the study of Buddhism. ‘Rig’ means family, and ‘se’ means to wake up to, so Jeremy proposed connecting it to the word ‘tribe’. However, this was met with rebuttal, as other translators thought the word ‘family’ was more fitting. The disagreement was never conclusive, highlighting the subtleties in maintaining and transmitting fundamental themes across cultures.
Both Rumi and Jeremy are keepers of the Dharma. Their translation of Buddhist teachings for the West presents the ecological crisis as a misunderstanding of our interconnectedness and shared bonds with nature. A Westernized framing typically sees climate change as a global issue, maintaining a mist of elusiveness and detachment. There is a separation between yourself and the environment — you are not climate change. Climate change is not you. In contrast, a Buddhist understanding flips the typical narrative of climate change’s extrinsic nature. Buddha’s teachings recontextualize the climate crisis as an internal battle. Their ecological perspectives see continuity between oneself and nature. With this basis, Eastern Buddhist philosophy understands community and interrelation as the key to counteracting climate change.
How can the mind be a reflection of the cosmos? How might this perspective change the way you interact with your thoughts? With the world?
Meeting Jeremy: A Tibetan Buddhist Understanding
Jeremy elaborated on the inseparability of the internal and external world, “We are not such solid entities contained in our own skin, we are way bigger than that…we can manifest a whole universe with the power of our mind.” Isolationist individuality is rejected in Buddhism; instead, interdependence is the basic environmental understanding. Let’s say you look at a pair of shoes, to make the shoes, an animal had to grow, and its skin has been taken to make the leather, and a tree’s bark had to be taken to make the sole. All these conditions have combined to make the shoe, and eventually those shoes will fall away and disintegrate. The existence of any phenomenon is interdependent on limitless other conditions. Living with the understanding of interdependence makes us better stewards of the environment, since you acknowledge that you are part of the environment, as Jeremy explained.
In Tibetan Tantric Buddhism there is a lot of talk about the 5 elements: earth, air, fire, water, and space. The 5 elements that you see in the outer world can also be recognized in your mind…
Earth: The mind is the foundation of all experience. Jeremy asked, “If there is no dreamer, where would the dream be?”
Water: Flowing oceans, water, and rain, are like the mind in a continuum that never stops
Fire: Light and warmth are the quality of being awake, alert. The brightness of the mind is the flame of fire.
Wind: Movement of the winds is the ability of the mind to change, to manifest something new.
Space: Everywhere is the overarching sky, and such is the mind.
Jeremy explains that the Buddhist view has a profound way of looking at the elements, and they must be in balance. The attempt to achieve this balance, both internally and externally, could be interpreted as the same journey the world is taking to combat climate change. The state of entropy the world is propelling into can be rebalanced, put back into order, and it starts with the mind.
Meeting Seitero: Zen Buddhist Interpretation of the Family
To gain a better insight into the lifestyle of Buddhism and how this can be ecologically sustainable, I spoke with Seitero, a Zen Buddhist monk living in Japan. His journey of becoming a monk highlights the distinction between a life of consumerism and a life of the Buddha.

After going to university, he found something wrong with the system of the world, and he tried finding another way of life. He met a priest practicing in the Sōtō school of Zen Buddhism who convinced him to become a monk. Life as a monk was simple: pray, eat, clean, and sleep. After staying in Etajima for three years, he walked back to his hometown, about 100 km away. In an attempt to see if this lifestyle was feasible outside the monastery, he lived in different cities while maintaining his practice. “I’m not doing special things, I’m just following my instinct as a creature… We don’t need to speak loud to do this way of living, just become silent and peaceful, not wasteful. We always have desire, and we need to control this desire.” Seitero admitted he thought about working to change society, but the more he practices, the more he feels what needs to change is himself.
When I asked him how this thinking could be used to combat climate change, he noted “to practice the Buddha way is done by family.” In Japan, the process of becoming a monk is called 出家 (shukke), which means to go out from the family, or leave home. But Seitero found this translation unfitting; he feels to become a monk is “not to go out from a family, but to go into a bigger family; unity is very important in the practice.” It is “to return one drop from the cup to the river.”
At the same time, the word for nation is 国家 (kokka, ‘state-home’), which implies entering a larger home that transcends borders. Buddhism offers techniques for living in a home that surpasses the confines of a nation. As we come to know what “home” or “nation” truly means, we are led to examine every small action in individual daily life if we intend to be interconnected. “The life practices I continue to follow, whether in Tokyo, Berlin, or now in Fukuoka, aim to expand the concept of home and focus on actions shared by humanity on a planetary scale, working to transform those.”

So, to walk the Buddha way is to understand the family. The “environment is our body, and it is our family.” Seitero continued, “Buddha also noticed the environment is family, but he first decided to leave his family; we should let go of our important things. When I left Japan for Germany, I was able to see Japan more clearly, and I feel more love for Japan.”
Seitero’s perspective reconciles how non-attachment to the world and care for your environment can co-exist. A love for nature can be strengthened by letting go of a perceived agency and dominion over it. This is where the idea of oneness becomes so pivotal since there should be a constant awareness that we are a part of nature, “learning from it and living from imitating it.”
I asked him what sort of world he imagined for the future.
His answer proposed a society unbound by desire. The money in circulation today has the power to infinitely amplify desires. While small children might not engage in destruction beyond the Earth’s ability to recover, the structure of our economic system leads to environmental destruction that endangers our very existence. The problem is not rooted in our human nature, it is in the continuation of a broken system.
Seitero notes, that as long as we rely on nation-states—whose currencies are backed by these authorities—it’s difficult to generate ideas for change. Stepping outside this governance framework is necessary. This does not mean living like pirates who plunder and inconvenience others; rather, it is cultivating harmony and adhering to a moral system separate from physical desire and state-building.
Just as he found joy in his life at Eiheiji Temple and wanted to replicate that experience elsewhere, he believes that if the practices Buddhism has passed down for living outside governance became more widespread, they would become a significant force in addressing environmental problems at their roots. Currently, the system asks you to prioritize material attainments. Seitero proposes a world run on the morals of the Middle Way, a structure unbound by physicality.
He is grateful for people who are willing and curious to understand these ideas, and for this reason, he is convinced that our planet will move in a positive direction.
Meeting Rumi: The Bigger Context
Rumi framed Buddhist ecological teachings in the context of taking and giving. She explained, “We are travelers here, we owe a lot from nature, so we should return a lot.” Sick people have a mindset of taking, and they won’t recognize the connection between the two.
If we apply her teachings to the environment, we are a sick society, one that is used to using, abusing, to taking. If we plan on returning to health, we must give of ourselves, and sacrifice, so that the whole becomes better. Giving is easy when you do not see a difference between yourself and the outside. However, it is popular in Western culture to become preoccupied with yourself, Rumi noticed Western people are “troubled by who you are.” In contrast, a Japanese mindset is more interested in the relationship of how you interact, which helps facilitate balance.

She admits that the Western mentality is very useful for development, but it lacks temperance and sustainability.
Ever since WWII, Western culture has been imported into Japan, heavily influencing the younger generations. It has shifted how people are taught to experience the world. “Today, many people know things by intellect, but don’t experience,” and this has contributed to a ‘big head’ culture—a people who love to intellectualize. This hinders one from “seeing without making into language, condition by condition.” Rumi explained, that traditional people, in contrast, observe and feel, they know without words.
In the absence of words, nothing gets lost in translation.
Rumi, Seitero, and Jeremy speak of interconnectedness. They speak of a world of understanding, of introspection. Such introspection can help us isolate and correct our imbalance.
The climate crisis is a symptom of our disconnection.
Egotistical desire is our sickness.
Camila is a junior in Ezra Stiles College. You can reach her at camila.young@yale.edu.