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2558-59 2015-16

SAMATHA
Insights from
a meditation
tradition
Samatha
is an occasional publication of
the Samatha Trust
(U.K. registered charity no. 266367)

The Samatha Centre


Greenstreete
Llangunllo
Powys
LD7 1SP
United Kingdom

Distributed in North America


by the Samatha Foundation of North America

FOR FREE DISTRIBUTION ONLY


For Lance Cousins
1942-2015
Our Good Friend
CONTENTS
Front Cover:
LIGHT NIMITTA
by Veronica Voiels

Dedication:
LANCE COUSINS
photo taken on August 5, 2012
(Samatha Trust archive)

pages 1 to 21
SAMATHA MEDITATION
AND INSIGHT MEDITATION:
COMPLEMENTARY OR COMPETING?
A talk by Lance Cousins
transcribed by Anthea Hogan
and edited by Tod Olson
with contributions by
Bernard Bolton, David Egan,
Chris Morray-Jones, Charles Shaw,
and Sarah Shaw;
diagrams re-created by Tod Olson;
photo on page 21:
CULTIVATION
(bhāvanā)
by Deven Patel

pages 22 to 24
A SAMATHA PRACTICE IN IRELAND
by Talya Davies
photos courtesy of
The Order of Mary Servite Trust

i
page 25
WISDOM
by Chris Gilchrist
illustration:
LA MAISON DIEU
(Tarot Arcanum XVI)
restoration of engraving
by Claude Burdel (1751)
courtesy of
Lo Scarabeo s.r.l., Turin

pages 26 to 27
MASTERY IN FIVE WAYS
by Samatha Adventures

pages 28 to 31
WORKING AND IN PROGRESS:
THOUGHTS ON FAITH AND PRACTICE
by Tina Fitzpatrick
photo
by Sarah Yorke

page 32
IMAGINARY PRISON (TAKE 2)
(anon.)

pages 33 to 35
POEMS IN THE STYLE OF
THE DHAMMAPADA
by participants in a
Dhammapada Weekend
at Greenstreete
(submitted by Valerie Roebuck)
illustrations
by Roberta Sisson

pages 36 to 41
TRADITIONAL THAI
ASTROLOGICAL SYMBOLISM:
AN EXPLORATION
by Rosemary Rose
illustrations
by Deborah Raikes

ii
pages 42 to 57
KURUDHAMMA JĀTAKA
THE TEACHING OF THE KURUS
(J II 365–381)
translation
by Sarah Shaw;
illustration on page 45:
miniature painting of the Mughal Empire, c. 1600;
illustration on page 55:
miniature painting from Jodphur, c. 1775;
all other illustrations
by Erica Karp

page 58
THE GAP
by Tim Kiely
photo:
THROUGH THE CANOPY
by Sebastian Reynolds

pages 59 to 63
THE POOL
by Bill Venells
illustrations
by Talya Davies

pages 64 to 71
MEETING THE BUDDHA ON THE ROAD
(anon.)
photo
by Mark French

page 72
SONNET FOR LANCE
(anon.)
photo
by Sebastian Reynolds

Back Cover
GREENSTREETE FROG
photo
by Deven Patel

iii
SAMATHA MEDITATION AND
INSIGHT MEDITATION:
COMPLEMENTARY OR COMPETING?
What follows is an edited transcription of a talk given by Lance Cousins on Monday, June
25th, 2012, at Ida Noyes Hall, University of Chicago. The editors benefitted from many
contributions and take responsibility for any errors.

LC: So, I’m going to talk on samatha meditation and insight meditation.
So, these are the words: samatha, vipassanā. People have complained
that I kept one of them in Pāli and one of them in English. But samatha
translates as calm meditation, but not many people have heard of that,
whereas vipassanā translates as insight meditation, which is much better
known, especially over here, one would think. In Sanskrit: śamatha and
vipaśyanā. That’s the terminology we get from the Sanskrit and from the
Tibetan tradition. But I am not talking about samatha and vipassanā in
terms of Northern Buddhism, Tibetan tradition and so on (Vajrayāna
traditions); nor in terms of Eastern Buddhism (Chinese and Chinese-
derived traditions). Both of them have various forms of meditation which
relate to samatha and vipassanā in various ways, but that would be much
too large a subject. So what I am talking about is a limited field of the
Theravāda School, that’s to say, the Buddhism traditionally established in
Sri Lanka, Burma, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and certain areas adjacent to
that. You can also call it Southern Buddhism.
So, you may read books, you may hear descriptions of meditation,
may see books. I just bought a lot of them from a book shop here, most
about insight meditation. I didn’t see any about samatha meditation –
but we’ll have to write some. (Laughter.)
But we need to come down to fundamentals first of all. What is
samatha and what is vipassanā? For the moment, I am not talking about
samatha meditation, vipassanā meditation. I am talking about samatha-
vipassanā, calm and insight. And these two things come together to wake
up the mind. That is to say, they are two aspects of bodhi, of awakening.
[See Figure 1(a).] But, that’s one way of looking at it. So in that way of
looking at it, they come together. At the end, they have to be united.
There is no success in insight meditation without coming to samatha; and

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there is no success in samatha meditation without coming to insight. But
another way of looking at it is like that [see Figure 1(b)]:

Figure 1. Samatha and vipassanā: two perspectives

Samatha, which comes first, makes a base, establishing some level of


peace in the mind, and when you have that peace in the mind you can go
on to develop insight or understanding. And from this point of view –
we’ll call it vertical as opposed to horizontal – samatha comes first; vipas-
sanā comes afterwards. That is so in every school of meditation practice.
There is no form of Theravāda meditation practice – perhaps no form of
Buddhist meditation practice – that doesn’t in fact begin with samatha.
They may call it insight, but in fact it begins with samatha because if your
mind is not sufficiently at peace you will get no insights of any use in that
lineage.
So why do we have two kinds of meditation? There are many kinds,
of course. I will talk about two. I just gave a series of eight lectures in
New Mexico, the major theme of which is how many different kinds of
samatha meditation there are in the Theravāda countries, and how many
different kinds of insight meditation there are in the Buddhist countries.
We don’t have time for all that, and it’s not the place really, but that’s so
as to remind you. Here for example, almost only two schools of insight
meditation are known. There may be certain Burmese monasteries, for
example, or Thai monasteries, where each have the odd teacher of
others. There are actually something like thirty different schools of
insight meditation in Burma, that’s to say, major schools which have
dozens of centers and many smaller locations scattered across the
country. But only two of them have really successfully so far spread
outside. Similarly, schools of samatha meditation that often don’t call
themselves samatha meditation – but in terms of the way I am looking at
it today we can call it samatha meditation – are particularly prevalent in

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Thailand, and there are many. This doesn’t mean there isn’t insight
meditation taught in Thailand: there is; and it doesn’t mean there isn’t
samatha meditation taught in Burma: there is; but still the general
tendency differs between Burma, or Myanmar if you prefer, Thailand,
and so on. So that’s your overall background, as it were, into which it all
fits.
So, we’re not talking about samatha and vipassanā, we’re talking
about samatha meditation and vipassanā meditation. And this amounts
to the difference between …, start here [see Figure 2 (bottom)]:

Figure 2. Samatha and vipassanā meditation, part 1

Those who go by calm meditation, you can say, go this way [see Figure
2(a)] to develop concentration, and that’s samādhi.
I have to warn you here, the English word ‘concentration’ is not a
good translation. Everyone uses it because no one has yet figured out a
better term. If you talk about concentration in English, it is likely to give
you the idea it is something you make an effort with, but samādhi is
peacefulness. What is meant is the kind of concentration that got me in
trouble with my grandma when I was a kid, when I was sitting there with
my nose in a book and I didn’t hear a word that anybody said to me.
That’s concentration, and there’s no effort in it, or very little effort. But
learning to do it may require effort. That is what is meant by concentr-
ation, so you can see why calm and concentration are the same thing. If
you understand that usage and meaning.

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If you go the other way [see Figure 2(b)], you go by the methods that
are common to at least the major schools of insight meditation. Maybe
we can talk about bare attention. You emphasize mindfulness, being
aware, mindful of everything you do. Maintaining mindfulness of the
body. That’s the strong emphasis of one of the major schools that has
come into the west, probably the most influential single school – the
school of Mahāsi Sayādaw is the immediate originator – that’s an old and
famous school. Or we may start with the breathing. In Burma there are
schools that start with awareness of your feelings and schools which start
with trying to be aware of consciousness itself. There are schools which
start with theory and try to extend the theory, things like dependent
origination and so on and, with that, try to extend that theory into direct
experience. So there are many, many different kinds of insight
meditation. But the kind that we know here, and that people are used to
talking about – they have an approach to meditation that doesn’t much
like control. They want a kind of experiencing that’s based on bare
attention, on minimal observation, and they will tend to discourage
efforts of control, and see control of any kind as getting in the way.
Whereas for samatha meditation, the aim is some control over the mind.
Technically speaking, we must balance mindfulness and concentration,
whereas for insight meditation the main emphasis is on the mindfulness.
But for samatha meditation, the aim is to go to a deeper state of some
kind.
This [insight meditation] is not a new solution, in one sense, because
in the manual of Buddhaghosa (from the fourth or fifth century), the
option of proceeding by bare attention is already given. But it’s given as
a secondary alternative and we don’t actually have any evidence that
anybody used this method before the Nineteenth Century. That’s at least
as best as I can discover.* You don’t usually see this mentioned. So it's a
new approach, partly based upon a textual tradition. It may have been
based on some traditions in Burma that we have no record of, and it may

* See L.S. Cousins, 1996, “The Origins of Insight Meditation,” in The Buddhist Forum IV
Seminar Papers 1994-1996 ed. T. Skorupski (London : School of Oriental and African
Studies, University of London, 1996), 35-59: http://www.academia.edu/1417359/The_
origins_of_insight_meditation (accessed August 1, 2015). (Ed.)

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particularly have been a response to modern times. It’s often connected
with modernizing tendencies in Buddhism.
The alternative practice is to develop concentration …,
One more thing: you have to overcome the hindrances. There’s a
technical list of the hindrances: sense desire, aversion, sloth and torpor,
excitement and depression, doubt. These are all very precise terms, and
on the whole they’re very familiar to meditators. For example, when I
was recently in New Mexico, the problem was sloth and torpor. I also
remember a time in Cambridge in the late 1960s, trying to meditate out-
side St. John’s College in the gardens and every time I tried …, off to sleep,
every single time! So I would get up, I would walk around and I would feel
totally lacking in sleepiness, I would sit down to meditate again …, off to
sleep! And that same phenomenon reminds me of examinations
(laughter) – some of you might have noticed. That is a hindrance. A
hindrance is something that comes at any time. And there is a tendency
for particular difficulties to arise at particular stages in meditation
practice. I do not say they arise in the same order for everybody or in the
same way for everyone, but they do arise, and you have to learn to
overcome them. So you do that either by concentrating on an object –
samatha meditation has traditionally forty objects of meditation,
kammaṭṭhāna, or subjects we’re working on – or you do it by simple
awareness, a kind of relaxed letting go. Up to a point, these two will meet
up, because you have to come to a mental state where the hindrances
don’t occur. And that takes some time. It’s a matter of training, to be able
to remain for a while in a state where those hindrances do not occur. It
doesn’t mean necessarily they don’t occur in your life, but it does mean
when you sit and meditate you can let go of that, leave it aside and be
free of it for a while. But then they diverge again. [See Figure 3.] In fact,
you can cross over at that point. But your methods of samatha medit-
ation are most suitable for this, that is to say the development of the
meditative states known as the jhānas, or dhyāna.
It’s actually the same word, jhāna, that gives rise to the Sanskrit
dhyāna, and also gives rise to Chinese ch’an, which gives rise to seon in
Korea, and to zen in Japan. I do not say that what they do in Japan in the
Zen school classifies precisely as samatha meditation, but that’s the ori-
gin of the name, which is the universal name for all meditation in China,
long ago.

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If you want to develop the jhānas, this [the samatha] route is better.
But if you can’t follow this [the samatha] route and you can follow this
[the insight] route, then this [the insight] route is better, quite obviously.
[Laughter.] And sometimes this seems dependent on the individual
match. And you may have a school of meditation that teaches this
[vipassanā], but the particular meditator may get the results of this
[samatha]. Or you may have a teaching that gives you this [samatha], and
some meditator proceeds to develop along this [vipassanā] route. That is
according to people’s nature; the skillful teacher works with it. That's to
say, you don't try to divert people from what they can naturally do. But
some people can be a bit dogmatic, and try to insist on having the same
experiences that they had, and that can create problems.
Traditionally, there’s a difference at this point. I should put it on the
other side, insight [see Figure 3]:

Figure 3. Samatha and vipassanā meditation, part 2

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If you come to this point then, and for a while, then you actually start to
develop what is called lesser insight. You start to see something of the
processes that govern mind and matter in terms of change, imperman-
ence, suffering, no self, and that can go in various ways. It sounds …,
especially if you’re a samatha meditator …, it sounds a bit miserable. But
actually, it can also lead to very peaceful and joyful states. If you go by
this route [samatha meditation], you want to develop the four jhānas,
the four kinds of bare consciousness, the first four kinds. It is not easy to
..., it’s never easy to describe something to someone if they’ve not
experienced it, but essentially what we’re dealing with here are states
which begin as very peaceful, very joyful and very different to anything
one has previously experienced. They are attractive, and some of the
teachers of insight meditation would say too attractive: you get attached
to them and they become an obstacle. But the teachers of samatha
meditation, we say, “Yes, this is very good, we can enjoy some bliss and
happiness – we don't object to that – but don't give up your journey,
don't get caught.”
So there’s a slight difference. This is the ancient way, the one that is
actually presented in full in the suttas. Ajahn Buddhadāsa in Thailand puts
the difference between the two – it might be rather mischievously,
describing the samatha approach with a smile, I think – he describes this
as the full and complete method of the Buddha and says that he doesn’t
think that the Buddha ever taught anything that was unnecessary, and so
on. But he said that for lazy meditators who don’t want to do the work
of the full path, we have a short-cut method (laughter), which is this one
[insight meditation]. I’m not sure I quite go along with that, but he is
making a point. One quite often sees emphasis on insight meditation as
the direct goal, the direct path. It’s not as simple as that. And in fact, in
the ancient texts they actually relate this to individual psychology, they
distinguish between the craving type, taṇhācarita, and the views type,
diṭṭhicarita.* Some person wants to experience, or is motivated to
experience, subtle states of mind. That’s what they will seek, and they
will be drawn to, or they will develop, the samatha path. Some person
wants to understand how things work so they won’t be so interested in
experiences. What they’re interested in is getting a more correct and

* See, e.g., Netti. 42f, 529, 644ff. Ñāṇamoli translates carita as “temperament”. (Ed.)

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subtle way of explaining things. So, from this point of view, samatha med-
itation is for those who want to experience those kinds of subtle states.
We can say that you use a more subtle pleasant state to free yourself
from a more gross pleasant state, and you can continue that process to
become subtler and subtler and subtler till you come to a state of mind
which very naturally and easily turns to insight.
So if you follow the insight path you have to develop sixteen stages
of insight. For example, there are various lists, all very detailed and
precise, to gain new levels of understanding. You have to pass through a
stage in which you have a kind of false enlightenment, according to the
defilements of insight.* Something that’s similar to enlightenment arises
but is not balanced. You have not to be caught by it. It’s a similar kind of
problem on the insight side to the problem on the calm side. But if you
complete that process you come to a point where the mind is very, very
clear, very clear and very precise. What do you have to do at that point?
The answer is: wait, and let the mind settle into stillness. And at that point
calm and insight come into balance.
So if you do that on the insight path the calm comes very naturally,
very simply. You don’t have to sit there making – now I’m going to say it!
– some effort to still the mind and relax and experience different kinds of
subtle object that will bring you to altered states of consciousness. You
don’t have to do that – the calm will just come. But if you develop
samatha meditation on the concentration side, if you develop the jhānas,
you develop proficiency in them, and the further you come on that path,
the more easily insight arises. The mind is actually … (pause) … There is
no jhāna without wisdom, and there is no wisdom without jhānas. When
there are jhānas, the mind just automatically understands things.
And this is what I mean when I say it’s two ways, one solution. If you
do insight meditation, calm will come at the end, after some years of
criticizing calmness; and if you do calm meditation, insight will come at
the end, even after some years of thinking, “Oh this insight stuff has got
a rather bad taste, it’s rather dry,” and so on. But at the last the two

* Vipassanūpakkilsa. See Vism. XX 105-30, pp. 633-38 in the PTS ed. by C.A.F. Rhys Davids.
Ñāṇamoli renders this as the “imperfections of insight.” (Ed.)

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come together. It’s not yet the last really, we have more to come – but
perhaps we’ll talk about that today.
Are there any questions at this point?
Q: Are you saying it’s important to just follow one or the other, or is it
also possible to do both? Alternatively, is that a valid thing to do, or …?
LC: It depends a lot on the individual. What I usually say to people is in
the very beginning you might try different methods of meditation teach-
ing, but if you keep on doing that all that you’ll be doing is reinventing
the wheel every time. You’ll just be doing the same basic beginning stuff
– you will never be getting any further. This can actually be a subtle form
of resistance. As soon as it’s actually starting to do something, you change
to another one. So, if it is helpful, you try various ones. I’d like to quote
Carlos Castaneda here – you see, I come from the sixties (laughter): he
recommends a path with heart, and that’s what you really need in a
meditation practice, something that has the right feeling for you, that you
can actually sustain. Then, whether it is appropriate for you to do other
things at certain times, will depend on the individual. If you have achieved
success in one method of meditation then you may want to get some
experience with another. This might not bring you nearer to
enlightenment, but it might make you a better teacher, for example.
You’ll find schools, teachers differ on this. Some teachers seem to like to
keep people close to them and don’t want them to do anything else. And
clearly for some individuals, this is a very good idea. Some people tend to
chase after every new thing, and that actually would not be good. The
tradition in Thailand for example, was that when monks had their basic
training, then they would travel from teacher to teacher so they would
get experience of different approaches as well. But that comes after a lot
of full-time intensive practice. I simply found with meditators I’ve had,
there are some I encouraged to go do other things and there are some to
whom I said, “No I don’t think this is a good idea.” It’s always quite
difficult to explain the rather complicated reasons why you would say
that to one person and say something else to another person. In fact,
people differ. Theravāda tradition, or the Buddhist tradition, says that the
Buddha has 84,000 different teachings. Why does the Buddha have
84,000 different teachings? Because there are 84,000 different kinds of
people who need them. (Laughter.) Well …, it makes a point, it makes a
point. So, does that answer your question?

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Q: I was thinking the question whether there’s a name for this point
where the paths come back together, and the concepts that came into
my mind both came from samatha practice, but I was wondering if they
would be useful to think about, and the two were equanimity and one-
pointedness, and the one-pointedness seemed to be like it might be a
way of describing that point as approached from the insight side, but I
wanted to know if that’s the wrong way to think about it or maybe there’s
a different way to describe what that point is?
LC: What is translated as ‘equanimity' is a part of all skillful states in Abhi-
dhamma. So you need to be able to go to a point where you are not
pulled. That’s essentially what equanimity is. And you need that for all
meditation. But the full development of equanimity actually comes either
through the jhānas, where in the fourth jhāna [the literature] precisely
emphasizes equanimity; or it comes through the development of insight,
where almost the last point [in the commentaries] is saṅkhārā-upekkhā,
“equanimity in regard to all constructed things”* – everything that we do.
And we find a place where happily they meet.†
This is often misleading for people – it doesn’t mean that one should
have only equanimity. As my teacher likes to put it, you know, if some-
one is standing outside your door begging for food, this is not the time
for you to say, “I’m practicing equanimity. Go away!” (Laughter.) That is
perhaps the time for compassion. And in fact, when you have a state of
equanimity the mind goes far more easily to compassion, far more easily
to joy in the joys of others and those kinds of responses. So, equanimity
is important, it’s important for you from an early stage, but if it really
comes further along in terms of this [see Figure 3] – this point would be
what they call access meditation in samatha – the hindrances are stilled.
Some insight teachers would also call it access meditation even if you
come through vipassanā. Others would say in vipassanā you reach a level
of concentration equivalent to access meditation, which is a pretty

* See, e.g., Vism. XX1 61-127. (Ed.)

† In a later version of this talk given on January 14th, 2014, in Berkeley, CA, Lance drew
Figure 3 (see page 6 above) in such a way that the two arrows marked “jhānas” and
“insight” curved back inwards to converge at a third and higher middle point, which he
labeled “Bodhi.” Compare Figure 1(a) on page 2 above. (Ed.)

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technical difference as far as I’m concerned. So we can just say if you
come roughly to here [see Figure 3], you’re going to make it.
All right.
Q: Could you say something more about the hindrance of doubt?
LC: Some people translate it incapacitating doubt. If you sit here in this
room and you doubt whether this lecture is making any sense at all, that’s
not the hindrance of doubt, that’s sensible investigation. But, if you have
no doubts in your mind and you go to sit to meditate, and the moment
you sit down to meditate you start thinking, “Is this meditation any use?”
that is the hindrance of doubt. And the problem is that it’s a self-fulfilling
prophecy. If when you’re supposed to be meditating you sit there
thinking about whether the meditation is any use, you’ll never move, you
just will not do it. That comes as a resistance. So the famous simile for it
is the caravan leader. He’s taking a caravan (the old sense of a caravan)
across the desert, and he gets half way across the desert and he starts
thinking, “Well, maybe there’s no water at the next water hole, and there
might be brigands behind those hills,” and he thinks like that and he turns
around and goes back. And of course, the point is he’s halfway there!
That’s the hindrance of doubt. But it’s nothing to do with when you want
to think about what you like, whether this or that, or this idea etc. That
kind of doubting is a kind of developing wisdom. It’s when you’re
meditating that doubt is a hindrance. Or in some people’s lives. You
know, some people have problems making decisions, when quite often it
doesn’t really matter which decision you make as long as you make one.
That’s incapacitating doubt. It is a habit of the mind.
Q: Someone once explained the difference between samatha and vipas-
sanā by saying that – and it sounds like a partisan explanation but I found
it very helpful and I was wondering whether you would agree – that
samatha has a certain sense of warmth to it and that vipassanā does not.
Again, it really was not meant as a partisan explanation and I found it very
useful – and I was wondering whether that kind of differentiation was
useful and whether you could elaborate.
LC: It’s quite common to use metaphors like “warmth” and so on, or
“with more feeling,” for samatha, there’s no doubt that is so. If you hear
samatha teachers it’s sometimes hard to remember what they said the
next day, but it had a very good feeling at the time. (Laughter.) If you hear

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vipassanā teachers it’s often very precise and very sharp, but it’s a bit dry,
and that – they’ll actually refer to it as the “dry way” in the texts. But that
is in the beginning. If you come to these stages [see Figure 3], this does
not necessarily apply, but it does apply at certain points because on the
vipassanā path you have to let go of everything that you have; you have
to develop nibbidā, disenchantment. In the samatha path you have to
develop joy; with the insight path you will have to develop
disenchantment. (Laughter.) But actually, joy is no use unless you can still
it, but it’s quite fun (laughter) with lots of joy. But as far as going further
on the path, it’s no use unless you can still it and allow it to come to a
more peaceful, happy state, and that’s what brings you to the one-
pointedness that enables you to enter the jhānas. With disenchantment
... pausing to think about death, that’s when you experience death. One
can’t quite say this is pleasant. Not many people think about death.
Maybe when you get to some age, hopefully when you’re nearer the end!
(Laughter.) But, there’s actually a way of thinking about death which
doesn’t have the effect of making your mind go to feeling slightly
miserable, but which lets go of the events of death in such a way that the
mind is freed up; that’s the only way I can describe it, and when you have
that kind of freedom, deeper wisdom comes. It critically depends upon
that. So this particular point in vipassanā [access; see Figure 3] is rather
uncomfortable, but very fruitful. But you’ve got to go on from it. If you
simply come to that and then turn away, all you take away is a miserable
feeling. And that is also true of death. You will see that people who are
experienced – I don’t even want to say in meditation; you could say,
spiritually – in the presence of death …, you can sometimes see people
who are rather joyful. Some people are happy …, that particular response
…, but it’s a marvel of controlling, of being able to go from
disenchantment to a higher level. It is also possible to combine both
methods, switching between what we call calm and insight, coupled
together as a pair, but it would be slightly difficult to teach that – rather
complicated, but it is what some people do …, but people do it.
Q: The term Abhidhamma came up, would you choose to comment?
LC: Ah, serves me right! (Laughter.) The Pāli Canon, Sanskrit canon too,
has three sections: Vinaya, Sutta or Sutra, and Abhidhamma in Pāli,
Abhidharma in Sanskrit. So that’s the division of the Buddhist Canon.
Now, the first is dealing with the monastic rules, a kind of Buddhist

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monastic law. The second is your main discourses and teachings of the
Buddha, and there are lots and lots of them. Your third is a much more
technical literature which is highly revered in traditional Theravāda – you
cannot understand the level to which it is revered in traditional Thera-
vāda. But it has not appealed to Westerners much. Caroline Rhys Davids
referred to it as a bag of dry bones! (Laughter.) And unfortunately, this
has sort of spread, and they refer to it as scholasticism and similar things.
But actually it’s very interesting and very useful if you learn from the
right person, so you can say it’s the deeper teachings of Theravāda. It’s
particularly popular in Burma, where it’s extraordinarily popular.
Normally you … there are very few, but some schools of insight meditat-
ion in the Theravāda countries that will teach insight meditation without
quite a lot of Abhidhamma, and some of them teach it with very large
quantities of Abhidhamma, and they memorize these texts.
I remember listening to lectures by a Burmese monk in Manchester
on the very text which, as I say, Rhys Davids referred to as a dry bag of
bones, and he was talking about various aspects. It’s all about pairing;
you pair this, you pair this, and you get that if you combine it … etc., etc.
And I must say, if you just sit and read it, it looks like the most boring kind
of mathematics, and of course, the scholars of texts are often refugees
from mathematics. Quite often. But this monk was giving teachings from
various sections, and we’d ask him questions and he would sort of sit
there, and sometimes he would have the answer and sometimes he
wouldn’t have the answer, so he would stop and he would chant in the
most beautiful Pāli the relevant section of the text, from memory. He had
the whole book – it’s in two volumes in the very abbreviated Pali Text
Society edition, and three in most of the East Asian ones – and the whole
lot was in his head! And when you saw someone doing this with it, you
just got a very different image. So you have to see it as a living tradition
to understand how the Abhidhamma works.*
Does that answer your question? Or I could go on about the Abhi-
dhamma for weeks! And bore you all to tears probably.

* The editor is informed that this anecdote refers to Ven. U Nyanika, a Burmese monk
who spent his last years in the UK and, “at Lance’s invitation, gave some memorable talks
in Manchester on the Yamaka.”

- 13 -
Okay, any more questions?
Q: So how important is it to have a teacher or to join with a community
or …, I am tempted …?
LC: I have met people who have made progress without a teacher. They
do have a marked tendency to get into problems, which wouldn’t surpr-
ise one. On the whole though, if they do get into any problems they go
and look for a teacher (laughter), which is a natural enough response.
Very few people learn very little from a teacher. The tradition says there
are three kinds of person. There’s the person who just has to hear a little
hint, and that’s it, and there’s the person who needs a lot of elaborate
kind of instruction, and that would be enough. And there’s the person
who must be guided, must be guided at every stage. I think I’m the last
one. I’m quite convinced of this because if there’s a way of getting it
wrong, I’m always wrong! (Laughter.) But you do learn a lot that way, and
it’s very useful when you see other people getting it wrong – been there,
done that! (Laughter.)
Does that answer your question – or you didn’t get enough?
Q: Well…, maybe I should answer this question myself, but where or
how do I go about finding a teacher?
LC: Well, I’m invited by the samatha group, so I’ll have to recommend
you to the samatha group! (Laughter.) Normally, one thing leads to
another. If there are teachers … you know, there are actually various
groups here in Chicago. I’m pretty sure there are some classes and so on
going on around here, but I don’t know the details. And of course, there
are many other Buddhist schools as well with various ways and approach-
es of teaching. Go to a few of them and see what suits you. You know,
you may find something – this feels right. There may not be a particular
teacher initially, but you may find an approach. If you pursue that
approach, eventually you will meet people experienced enough in that
approach that you will want to take them as a teacher if that’s your
inclination. Or you may not find it satisfactory, it doesn’t resonate for you,
so after a while, try something else, and eventually you may find
something. There was a tradition in China that every monk, before the
age of thirty, should have shaken the dust off his feet in every province
in China. (Laughter.)

- 14 -
Q: You’ve mentioned a few times the ability of a teacher to spot when a
student, or somebody who is being trained in this is getting it wrong, and
I was wondering, how does one get a student to be articulate enough to
the point of expressing what they’re doing accurately enough that one
has a sense of what they are doing right or wrong, and what role does
Buddhist Abhidhamma, or technical language of Buddhism, play at that
level?
LC: Well, it helps to give you a framework, it gives you some sense – let’s
not say Abhidhamma is a technical language, no – it helps you to pick up
that something is not a balanced state, and to have words to tell you what
is missing, what needs to be known. But, I don’t actually think this is in
the beginning very different to anything else. If you are teaching someone
dancing, if you are teaching someone a martial art, you have experience
in that and you see immediately if they aren’t standing in the right
posture etc. It isn’t so much that you think that out as that it’s just
automatic for you. And the same is true for meditation teaching. If you
know where you should be, when you hear someone speaking, and
sometimes just when you see them walking across the room, you know
they’re not in the right place. And after some experience, you will get to
know, that’s a rather dangerous place to be. That’s not common, but it
does occur. Most often when people who come have already had some
kind of mental problem, they’re very difficult to teach meditation to.
Any more questions?
Q: Did you say that when someone has had a mental problem it’s difficult
for them to learn meditation? I just didn’t know if I heard you correctly.
LC: It can be – it can be. It depends on the type of mental problem. On
the other hand, sometimes mental problems are actually meditation
states, and the last thing you should do is go anywhere near a doctor
because they all tell you there’s something wrong with you! (Laughter.)
Whereas if you mention that to a meditation teacher he will tell you
there’s something right with you! (Laughter.) I had a long discussion with
a friend of mine’s father who was a, there’s a technical word for it, not a
psychologist, but dealing with people in mental hospitals with a range of
mental problems. His view was if you see things, there’s something wrong
with you. My understanding is if you see things, there’s something right
with you. (Laughter.) Of course, these are simplifications.

- 15 -
But there’s a very simple point you can make here now: that we all
see things, they’re called dreams. The ability to see things is simply part
of the mind, but if it comes in ways you’re not used to this might alarm
or frighten you, and that alarm or fear may then generate problems
because what you actually need is someone who says this is fine, what
you do with that is this, they go away and no more problem. So I’ve had
people come you know, and sometimes they’ve got a history of getting
various kinds of medical advice, and you simply talk to them for a while
and the problem’s gone because the whole problem was they thought
there was something wrong. Once they know there’s nothing wrong,
there isn’t a problem. But there are other cases that you can do nothing
with, so … weird things that you meet. You can usually do something in
the moment. The problem is, if you’re experienced enough teaching
meditation, you can almost always get someone in a balanced state for a
little while. What you can’t do is keep them there, so it’s not a lot of use,
but you can do it.
Q: This might sound …, I’m not sure that a lot of people are going to
make enough progress in meditation that insight and samatha come
together, so – I don’t know how else to put it – for practical purposes, if I
want to be a better person, does it really matter which path I choose?
LC: Which feels better to you?
Q: Well …, it’s kind of hard to tell as a beginner.
LC: Which feels better to you? Have a think about it. Which feels better
to you?
Q: Ahh …, vipassanā … but …,
LC: Do vipassanā. If you don’t find it satisfactory come back and do some
samatha. (Laughter.) But if you have a very questioning mind, vipassanā
may be very suitable for you. A certain kind of question suits a certain
person. What is quite certain is if you don’t do it, you won’t be doing it,
and I can only say that in my opinion most normal people will achieve this
level [access; see Figure 3] if they practice meditation over a period of
years. The problem is people give up, but those who do not give up will
reach this level. That’s my experience. You meet in some circles many
people who will say you can’t meditate today. Again, it’s a self-fulfilling
prophecy. If enough people say it, then nobody meditates, and nobody
reaches that. But, actually, you can find sitters also in countries. If you go

- 16 -
to Burma or Thailand they will tell you there are enlightened beings
today, and they will even name a few that they believe are enlightened –
quite common. I’m not saying they’re necessarily correct, but some major
teachers in Burma and Thailand are commonly considered to be enlight-
ened, what we call arahats.
Q: Can you say that again? I didn’t hear.
LC: What they call arahats. It’s an enlightened person. If you ask them in
Sri Lanka the answer you usually get is, “Well …, I don’t know if there are
any arahats here today … there may be some in Burma.” (Laughter.)
Actually, I think they rather underestimate some of their own teachers. I
say that because I have actually practiced in forest centers in Sri Lanka.
There are meditation monks there who are perhaps more experienced
than most of the Sinhalese realize. Maybe that’s something that happen-
ed over a period of what is now many, many years, forty-some years,
rather than from outsiders.
Any more questions?
Q: Is bare attention another word for mindfulness or is it different?
LC: I think it’s a different thing. It’s never been entirely clear to me what
it is in Pāli that the English expression ‘bare attention’ is actually meant
to correspond to. But the method they use is you try to note – it’s what
Mahāsi Sayādaw meant, you try to notice – it is not meant that you note
with a label – every single activity. Note looking, moving, and you may
slow down. With systematic practice you could slow down. They do it
very intensively in that school for up to twenty hours a day. Jolly difficult
(laughter) – for some meditators, anyway. But you don’t put a lot of
attention to it. If you kind of try and watch the movement of your hand
so (demonstration), in such a focused way, they would say you are
concentrating on it, which is not what they want you to do. They want
you to just have the minimal awareness that nothing goes on in your
body, feelings, mind, and mental states that you don’t note. That takes
quite a lot of practice, but quite plainly, if you try to put a lot of attention
to each thing that occurs, it’s impossible – so it needs this very minimal
attention to work. But I do not know what this is meant to correspond to
in Pāli – it’s a modern term in English. And I’m not quite convinced it
comes from the tradition, but that’s something for further research.

- 17 -
Q: Is the minimal degree why it’s different from mindfulness? It sounds
a lot like mindfulness in some ways.
LC: It’s clearly related to mindfulness, but it’s been described in terms of
attention, and mindfulness is not about attention. To be mindful you
don’t have to be slow. For example, in some schools of insight meditat-
ion they would say slowing down mindfulness is only partly developed in
ordinary states of mind and body, and they would be against the ideas of
slowing down in body. But it is, as I said, very popular in most successful
schools of insight meditation.
So mindfulness is a certain kind of awakeness so that you do not get
lost in whatever is going on. It’s actually very closely related to memory.
I mean, quite ordinarily you do something and a second later you don’t
remember what you were doing or why, and mindfulness is the quality
that really its purpose is partly to counter that. It counters getting lost in
what you’re observing. It’s not quite the same thing as bare attention,
but they are closely related.
In terms of samatha meditation where you balance mindfulness and
concentration, concentration takes you deep into the mind. Mindfulness
anchors you to the outside world, and if you don’t have enough
mindfulness, you go deep into the mind, you can experience states where
nothing is happening, which are negative results (laughter), except that
if you’re having a miserable life, then this can have a certain value at the
time. But it’s a bit of a trap. So in mindfulness there is a balance going on.
For samatha, you need to go deep into the mind, but you must not get
lost, for those two qualities have to work together.
Q: Is awareness a good synonym for mindfulness?
LC: For mindfulness. It could be. We tend to use it for clear comprehen-
sion, which goes with mindfulness, so I would tend to say mindfulness
and awareness.
Some of you will have heard this, but I’ll tell it again. A certain friend
of mine, who I will not name here, was on a meditation course with me
in the late ’70s, and we hired a Scottish castle. The owner was in America,
actually, for the summer and was letting out her castle. So this was quite
an interesting place out in the wilds of northwest Scotland. We were
meditating there for three weeks and we were doing very intensive
practice; and we were actually combining some of the methods of insight

- 18 -
meditation and of samatha meditation. In meditation, such things have
gone on! (Laughter.) So everybody was doing this very careful, attentive
slow walking between all the times they were sitting in meditation. And
we were taking the Eight Precepts, which means you don’t eat after
midday, but we had tea together. So teatime came and it was this partic-
ular individual’s turn to make the tea with water in a very large metal
kettle. She came in with this kettle of boiling water, and she came across
moving like this (demonstration). Very carefully noting everything she
was doing, she carefully put the kettle onto the glass top table – CRACK!
That illustrates very clearly the difference between mindfulness without
clear comprehension and mindfulness with clear comprehension. She
was making a real effort at mindfulness, but she had somehow lost her
sense of the context, which is rather important. So I would use awareness
for that, but you could use awareness for mindfulness, though in fact it is
useful to distinguish between them in this instance.
There are no exact translations, there’s probably no exact translat-
ions between any two languages, but certainly no languages that are not
closely related, or after a long history of separation, then you know, the
English doesn’t exactly match. So that’s all. So you just have to try differ-
ent ones to get a sense of the Pāli. Over time Buddhism in the West will
develop its sense of the terms it prefers.
There are tendencies, particularly for the ones that catch on, for
mainly reasons of historical accident. The one I usually complain about is
‘meditation.’ I usually argue that there is no such thing as ‘meditation.’
It’s a mystic term actually, which comes from the teachings of Richard of
St. Victor who divided the stages into cogitation, meditation and
contemplation in Latin, and that’s actually where the term ‘meditation’
came from.
So what is this thing we’re doing when we’re sitting in ‘meditation’?
Well it’s a word, bhāvanā, causing to be, developing or practicing. It
actually comes from the first sermon of the Buddha, at least in terms of
tradition, where the Buddha declares what is the Truth of Suffering; that
the Truth of Suffering must be thoroughly comprehended; that the Truth
of Suffering has been thoroughly comprehended. Then there’s a similar
sequence (these are the three turnings of the Wheel of the Law) and then
the second Truth, Arising. There’s the Truth of Arising, that the Truth of
Arising must be abandoned, that the Truth of Arising has been

- 19 -
abandoned. Then for the third Truth, that is the Truth of Cessation, or
Enlightenment, the Truth of Cessation must be directly experienced or
witnessed; the Truth of Cessation has been directly experienced. And
then the one that’s relevant here, that’s the Truth of the path leading to
the Cessation of Suffering, which is the Eightfold Path. See them turning?
The path leading to the Cessation of Suffering must be brought into being
– that’s the verb for this, bhavitā, must be brought into being. Truth, the
path leading to the cessation of suffering, has the meaning to be brought
into being. And then this play between the noun bhāvanā and the verb
that comes from it, it occurs in all formulations – I can’t say all formulat-
ions – but in many different formulations of the Buddhist path … so the
lists show many others, other than that in the Eightfold Path, many
different ways of doing things, but we have something … it’s not
‘meditation.’ Right View – that’s ‘meditation,’ I suppose; Right Thought
or Right Intention – that could perhaps be ‘meditation’; Right Speech – is
that what people think they’ve come to learn when they come to learn
‘meditation’? Might do them almost more good than anything else! Right
Action, Right Livelihood … and the rest of it: Right Effort, Right Mindful-
ness, Right Concentration. But the main thing is that what we are talking
about in Buddhism is something very much wider than the rather simple
understanding of ‘meditation’ as a kind of technique. Bhāvanā involves
transforming the whole of your life, and you’ll be very much happier if
you can.
So ‘meditation’ is too simple. That said, here I am giving a talk on
‘meditation’! (Laughter.) In practice it’s kind of acquired currency, so the
important thing is to remember that it is inadequate. But what is meant
is something much wider than that and more open.
I have gone on a while. Shall I stop there, or …? One more question.
Q: Well, you mentioned dreams before, so I was wondering if you could
relate meditation to dreams, or inner or outer experiences, or seeing
things?
LC: If you come to certain levels of concentration – I can really only
explain this in terms of Abhidhamma which talks about what we call the
bhavanga consciousness, what may be called the passive state of the
mind, the state to which the mind returns between all activities. When
you go to that state in meditation, when you know to go to that state in
meditation, it’s not the aim of meditation, but if the mind becomes a little

- 20 -
too concentrated, it goes in that direction, then dreamlike experiences,
visionary experiences occur. That can happen. For some people this is
very rare, for some people it goes on all the time. Some people like it,
some people don’t like it. It is not the aim of meditation, but learning to
recollect clearly those things when they occur is part of the path of medit-
ation. It’s developing recollection, the memory which helps you in other
states, and if things come up in dream form it’s as dream work, you know,
if you try to remember dreams you understand things sometimes. Some-
times it’s quite funny …, you know, you have a very strange dream and
you realize it’s all been created by something you just glanced at several
hours before you went to sleep, and you’ve somehow elaborated it into
this complicated scenario which can be quite amusing. But sometimes
you see that you had a whole series of these things and they’re actually
making a point. And when you get something like that that’s making a
point, I usually say to people: if your own unconscious mind is busy telling
you that you ought to do something about it, then it would be quite wise
to heed it. (Laughter.) The outside teachers may be right and they may
be wrong, but if your own inner teacher says do something about it…,
better do something about it. That’s an example.
Okay. And on that rather strange ending, I’ll finish my talk now.

Cultivation
(bhāvanā)

- 21 -
A SAMATHA PRACTICE IN IRELAND
If you fancy a holiday, with genuinely friendly people, walks under the
trees and along the winding and beautiful river with many rushing weirs,
your own room, three square meals a day and the fresh air and
considered pace of the countryside, you could do worse than go on a
Samatha meditation course in Ireland at Benburb Priory!
Irish Samatha is developing apace, parallel to all the other Samatha
groups. Nai Boonman went over for the second time in July 2013 and the
well-attended course on the eight jhānas, in which I took part, was really
lovely.
Benburb is like a rambling old country hotel, and very quiet. We had
the run of the place and had it almost to ourselves. It is still a working
Catholic Priory and used to be the main training place for priests, who
were then sent all over Ireland. But as you come into the entrance, you
will see a Protestant church on the left! Samatha meditators have been
using Benburb as a base for a good few years now and there is a very
good relationship – it was wonderful to see the shrine room set up in a
room just a short way down the corridor from another room where mass
is still held every day by the priests. There somehow seemed to be no
noticeable incongruity in this, despite the very Buddhist and beautiful
shrine with a Buddha rupa and many flowers, about which Nai Boonman
was very careful, taking a long time to see that it was set up just right.

- 22 -
During the evening dhamma
discussions traditional to Samatha,
Nai Boonman reiterated one of the
84,000 dhammas for us, saying that
he was choosing just that one out
of all of the 84,000 as being the
most appropriate for us, and the
only one we needed to study right
now. He said that this was
something spoken by all Buddhas throughout time, not just the one, and
this was: first of all, don't do bad; then, do good; and finally purify the
mind (of good and bad). He asked all the men and all the ladies present
which of the first two they would prefer – not to do bad, or to do good –
saying you can't choose both at the same time, so you have to make a
choice between them, and he found as usual that on the whole, men
want to do good and ladies would
like not to do bad! We were very glad
and privileged to welcome Nai
Boonman and Dang, and I had to
'save a place' for Dang a few times in
the queue for lunch as she would
always try to queue up at the back
after getting Nai Boonman his meal!

The meals I have to say were proper 'meat and two veg', with an
appropriately solid respect for the potato, but as a vegetarian I can vouch
for the good taste and protein also contained within the vegetarian
option. I don't think it's a particularly Buddhist idea (please correct me if
I'm wrong) but it has become traditional within Samatha for lots of good
food to be considered suitable fuel for the work put into meditation – I
don't usually eat so much but on this
occasion I really found it to be true.
The meals are prepared by different
small teams of people who come in
to work at Benburb and we felt very
well looked after by them all. The
two large, slow, friendly dogs (Ben
and Max) are a definite feature of

- 23 -
the place, and in the mornings are usually to be found outside the kitchen
window. They are there to receive the benefits of your leftover toast.
There were also three cats: a very friendly ginger cat; a personable black
and white one; and a tabby whose trust one would be privileged and
lucky to have, but who would usually take flight if approached.
The field of young cows and bullocks at the front – according to
Fergus (who knows about such things), they were off to be slaughtered
fairly soon – were another pleasant feature, and Dermot went in to lie in
the field with them until they all came up close to have a look at him, then
followed him closely when he got up. It was frightening to see so many
large objects bearing down on him, but he hopped back over the fence
to us quickly and without incident. He said that they were all fine, that he
had been chatting to them, and that they had said they were all coming
to the meditation class next week!
You could not wish for a more friendly and accepting group than the
Irish meditators. I would recommend to anyone that they go over and
experience this for themselves.

- 24 -
WISDOM
Without calm abiding, wisdom crackles
like lightning that flickers restlessly
between the clouds. It comes and goes.
You shrug and say: It’s just summer lightning.
With calm abiding, wisdom thunders
like lightning that radiantly
splices heaven and earth. You duck,
thankful you weren’t blasted to bits –
and everything has changed.

- 25 -
MASTERY IN FIVE WAYS
In Buddhist teaching, we often refer to “skilful” consciousness or “skil-
ful” dhammas or trying to be more “skilful.” Practising meditation can
certainly be likened to practising other skills such as learning to play an
instrument, or woodcarving, etc. It seems we have to pass through diff-
erent stages, whatever we are learning, and we undoubtedly have to face
obstacles and disappointments in order to progress.
But what is it like to have mastery over a particular skill? What is it
like to be able to pick up a piece of music and play it beautifully on sight?
What is it like to be able to fashion a piece of wood into whatever you
want? What would it be like to have mastery over the mind? Can you
imagine practising meditation to the point where you have complete
mastery over it?
The Buddha taught that one who has mastery over the mind has
mastery in five ways. The first of these is mastery in adverting. This
means being able to turn the mind to any object. In Samatha practice,
this could mean turning the mind to any of the stages without having to
calm the mind first; or energize it; or battle with any of the hindrances –
just do it! If there was mastery in adverting, then the mind could be
turned instantly to any of the jhānas – just like that! Just like reaching out
your arm to take whatever you wanted: complete mastery.

- 26 -
The second type of mastery is mastery of attainment. Not only could
you turn the mind to whatever state you wanted, you could also enter
that state fully; without resistance; without cajoling – immediate full
immersion. If you wished to enter the first jhāna, the mind would simply
turn to it and enter. If you wished to enter the fourth jhāna, the mind
would simply turn to it and enter that state of deep concentration – just
like turning towards a pool and jumping straight in: instant immersion.
No holding back; no doubts; no clinging to the sides.
The third mastery, having entered, is mastery of resolving. This
means resolving to stay in that state for as long as you wish, whether it is
30 seconds, 5 minutes, 1 hour, or whatever. With mastery of resolving,
you can remain in that state for as long as you want, whatever the
circumstances.
Fourth is mastery in emerging; in other words, the ability to come
out instantly and completely. It is like emerging from the pool and being
immediately dry – no residue of water clinging to the body.
Fifth, Mastery of recollecting is the ability to recall the state at will.
Interestingly, the description of recollecting is very similar to the descr-
iption of adverting. It is the ability to turn the mind back to the state it
was in and recall it clearly.
These forms of mastery may seem almost unimaginable. Who could
have such control over the mind? Yet these are the skills we all practise
each day in Samatha meditation. As we change from one stage to the
next, we learn to turn the mind towards that stage and enter it without
clinging or hesitation. From our first lesson, we learn to resolve to stay in
the practice for a given length of time. Sometimes, it can appear
surprising how accurate our “internal clock” can be – we open our eyes
and exactly 30 minutes has passed. Our mastery of resolving gradually
improves. We learn to emerge from each stage and put it down; and then,
at the end of the practice, we return to our normal breath. If we try too
hard to carry around our peaceful, meditative state, we can sometimes
come unstuck. Mastery of emergence is as important as mastery of
entering. By recollecting the practice after we finish, we learn the fifth
mastery, which makes it easier to turn the mind to practise the next time
we sit.

- 27 -
- 28 -
WORKING AND IN PROGRESS:
THOUGHTS ON FAITH AND PRACTICE
In this fathom-long body with its perceptions and thoughts there
is the world, the origin of the world, the cessation of the world
and the path to the cessation of the world.
Anguttara Nikaya 4:4
It seems significant that one’s suffering is so much one’s o wn
burden whilst also being a generic experience undergone by all
living creatures. To be simultaneously conscious of experiencing
both creates a basis for metta to arise. In attempting to escape
suffering and seek happiness for oneself, it is necessarily sought
for others too. Personal experience has a broader foundation in
sīla.
A while ago I was reminded of Albert Camus’ essay about the
myth of Sisyphus, regarded here as a tragic anti -hero, who is
condemned for all eternity to roll a rock up a mountain o nly to
see it roll back down again. I remember it made an impact on me
when I was a keen fan of Existentialist philosophy. In the angst-
ridden drama of youth, it seemed a perfect representation of the
human condition as an abyssal and inescapable state of suffering.
However, I was also impressed by Camus’ essay ‘Le Mythe de
Sisyphe,’ in which he suggests that it is possible to ‘imagine
Sisyphus happy’. One may well ask the obvious questions: ‘How?’
Or: ‘Why?’ An answer may be: Because no suitable alternative is
available as an appropriate response to faith (saddhā). Faith,
when it is honoured, instigates something affirmative, sourced or
derived from the very roots of suffering.
How can we see Sisyphus happy? It seems that we can see his
task as exemplary in that he shows the five faculties operating
together — Concentration and Energy, Faith and Wisdom, all bal-
anced by Mindfulness. If we can balance the faculties, we may
manage to push the rock to the pinnacle of the mountain – its
weight, its physicality, all of our suffering, in one exact moment, at
one specific place, at one point — disappears. So too in the
practice, when the hindrances are overcome and we reach one -

- 29 -
pointedness, one may then access an experience of equanimity. In
each moment of contact with one’s own struggles, one’s own stone,
the jhāna factors: vitakka, vicāra, pīti, sukha, and ekaggatā are all
present. Until two by two, then one by one, they drop away and at
the top of the mountain, ekaggatā alone remains. We may then
taste the equipoise of samādhi.
The diagram shown above* is a two-dimensional representation of
an environment envisaged as a place which is both as inhospitable as
that depicted in Piranesi’s Carceri’ etchings …†

… but also as clear, pure


and placeless as a tabula rasa. We seem naturally, and at different
times, to abide in both.
In the body of the mountain, with the stature of a grand and
monumental rūpa, we have a perceptible sense of the unification
of the elements. The Earth element is immediately evident in the
blatancy of the mountain and in Sisyphus’ stone, his object of con -
centration. Indeed, it is palpable too in Sisyphus’ body, which is
completely engaged in its task. This body presents an affective
episode in one of the various manifestations of rūpa and const-
ancy. Air is characterised in the properties of the breath , which is
brought into focus with Sisyphean gasping inhalations: in-breath
and out-breath being forced and enforced to cope with the weight
of the stone; a breath responsive to the effort required for the
upwards push. Near the top of the mountain the air flow is cooler
and stronger and so here, closer to a temporary goal, the weary
body, breathed upon, is eased and healed. We imagine Sisyphus
halting for a moment from his toil, aware for a time of his
* The quotations are from A. Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays, transl. Justin O’Brien,
(London: Hamish Hamilton Ltd., 1965) 95-99.
†Giovanni Battista Piranesi (1720-78), Carceri d'Invenzione (“Imaginary Prisons”), from left to right:
plates 4, 3, 14, 9, and 7.

- 30 -
breathing, whence a stony silence falls in the pauses, the abodes
between inhalation and exhalation. Water is present in the sweat
and humidity — an emphasising, watery dampness. This is the
element that ensures adherence and the conjoining of dhammas,
making rūpa tangible. Fire, heating up the body is the fuel for anger
and pain — the burning sensation of suffering — a manifest energy
which can both sustain and transform the effect of our efforts.
Space — if all pervasive, can it really be the context for an event?
Consciousness is the very fact of human agency: the potential for
bhāvanā.
The aggregates come together to form the individual, only to be
dispersed like the sand which constitutes the stone. A point may be
found.
The liberating potential of the Seven Factors of Awakening
rests within the mountain, which are surely evident when we have
sufficient faith to risk something. Our suffering has th e potential
to be transformative. Faith initiates the shift from Dependent
Origination to Transcendent Origination.
We return to our patterns, our habits, as Sisyphus returns to his
stone. So now what? (Hebrew colloquialism: “Nu?”). Therein lies the
potential for paññā.

- 31 -
IMAGINARY PRISON
(TAKE 2)

- 32 -
POEMS IN THE STYLE OF
THE DHAMMAPADA
written by the participants in a Dhammapada Weekend
at Greenstreete from 4 to 6 March 2011

1. One who listens to the monkey


chattering in the tree top
is like the busy mind
making waves on the water.

One who attends to the calm mind


makes the water still:
then the wise one
can see clearly.

2. As the canary warns the collier


of poison gas in the mine,
mindfulness will warn us
when defilements seep in the mind.

- 33 -
3. Believing ourselves to be this or that,
we develop mindfulness and concentration where we are sat.
The mind, attached to views and ideas,
grows in power bringing freedom from fears.

4. The blessings of a fool go uncounted,


although many are visible to all, save he.
Would the fool but make a tally
he’d see those seen by all, and more.

5. The skilful one sees


that following her sense desires
is like following
a fleeting offer of home.

The skilful one sees


that mastering her sense desires
creates the foundations
for a peaceful state.

6. A thousand words can overwhelm


with a fog of interpretation:
when we clearly see one truth,
it doesn’t need translation.

A thousand words may lead to views,


discussion and frustration:
when we clearly see one truth,
we find emancipation.

7. Teachers can inspire and lead


but can’t affect your kamma:
through your efforts you succeed
by following the Dhamma.

- 34 -
8. Saṃsāra’s a movie show
where our minds try to range,
when really there’s nothing there
but colour, light and change.

9. Our time on earth is so unsure:


where we have come from, where we’ll go,
how many moments we’ll endure,
we can never know.

Don’t dally, then, but meditate.


This could be your last night on earth,
tomorrow your execution date –
the sentence passed at birth.

- 35 -
TRADITIONAL THAI
ASTROLOGICAL SYMBOLISM:
AN EXPLORATION
Some years ago, a samatha practice group was
STUPA formed to investigate a little known tradition of Thai
astrological symbolism and to explore its usefulness
as an aid to understanding the meditation practice.
Like its much better known western and Chinese
counterparts, the tradition in question uses a list of
twelve symbols but these are different from those of
GOLD UMBRELLA
other systems. It is also clear that they are connected
in some way to Buddhist teaching. The twelve
symbols are as follows:
1. Stūpa – a structure often containing holy relics
2. Gold parasol: the parasol is the symbol of royalty in South
and Southeast Asia.
3. Silver parasol
SILVER UMBRELLA 4. Decapitated person
5. Golden shrine
6. Palace
7. Rahu, the Eclipse Demon who seizes the Sun and the Moon.
He is the Hindu and Buddhist god of the eclipse (and is the name
DECAPITATED BODY of the north lunar node in an astrological chart). In one Buddhist
text he swallows up the sun and the moon, but releases them
when they recite verses that give their allegiance to the Buddha.
8. Devacāra, the Wandering Deva who warns of danger
9. Prisoner wearing a cangue (or collar-shackle)
10. Sorcerer
11. Sorceress
GOLDEN SHRINE
12. Nāgarāja: the king of the nāgas, the mythical beings who
live under water and can transform themselves magically at will.
Although they can appear like humans, their natural form is that
of a snake, but with auspicious connotations. A nāga king comes
from the depths of the river to shelter the Buddha from wind and
rain shortly after his enlightenment.
PALACE

- 36 -
In keeping with the way we often do things in this
school of practice, group members were encouraged
to explore these images for themselves without too
much initial input. I strongly recommend that anyone
interested in exploring the system should have a go
at doing just that.
To begin with, I found myself visualizing different
arrangements of the symbols as shown in the two RAHU

diagrams below. Sets of three were prominent. I am


sure these are just two of many possible examples:

DEVA CARA

PRISONER WEARING
CANGUE COLLAR

SORCERER

SORCERESS

NĀGA RĀJA

- 37 -
Next, I found myself wanting to place the images in the body as a way
of relating them to my own meditation experience.

The first set of three:


1. The stūpa seemed to be located at the top of my head. Stūpas often
contain ashes. For me, then, this image contained a reminder of death –
that it was coming to me too, not just everybody else! This helped to
arouse a sense of urgency and the realization that how I behave now and
what I ‘do’ in this life is important! The image also suggested a different
way of reflecting on this – that life is a series of possibilities, all of which
could open out onto something else entirely, if were to let it happen …
2. The gold parasol brought to mind the idea of protection by the Sun,
or the male principle – so to speak, our Guardian Angel throughout life. I
was reminded of an instruction once given in practice ‘make friends’ with
the nimitta. Perhaps the ‘gold parasol’ symbol was for me at that time
an encouraging voice urging me to be bold, to be willing to face my fears
and doubt! In any case, this ‘active’ principle seemed vital to the process
of constructive change – if that was what I really wanted!
3. The silver parasol aroused a sense of protection through the Moon
or female principle. If the gold parasol represented a challenge to invest-
igate, the silver one seemed to convey a balancing quality – the happiness
and calm that can arise when equanimity is present. I have found that it
is very important to maintain this quality at times while investigation is
consciously active! For me at that time I knew I needed to be much
kinder to myself, and more accepting of my limitations.
In connection with the two parasols, I was reminded of the Mother
and Father principles and the different energies that are associated with
them. In relation to the parts of the body, the two eyes came to mind.
In a sense, then, these first three images may be said to represent the
Highest Principles.

The second set of three:


4. The decapitated person felt like the energy associated with the arūpa
(formless) principle. That energy is not ‘ours’ in that it does not belong to
us but may be given to us, as a gift. The throat area came to mind.

- 38 -
5. The golden shrine seemed to me to be the ‘mind-heart’ area, the
source from which that energy becomes available. Finding refuge in this
area enables us to use our energy wisely.
6. The palace was like the playground of that energy, which is our mode
of self-expression, our creativity – and the Dhamma in all its glory! The
chest area and shoulders came to mind.
In other words, I was reminded of the Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha.

The third set of three:


If one takes the view that the symbols discussed above are linked to
our higher natures and aspirations, then the remaining sets may be said
to be linked with the more worldly aspects of our nature.
7. The devacāra conveyed a sense of our connectedness with our
bodies and our kamma. I was reminded of the time before I found the
meditation practice, when I was constantly looking for something, not
quite knowing what it was.
8. The rahu seemed to be located around the solar plexus and to
represent opposing tendencies of a single energy, like the two sides of a
flipped coin. There was a sensed of instability and the potential for being
either good or naughty – in other words, the element within us that often
does not quite know what it wants!
9. The prisoner wearing a shackle evoked a memory of the time in our
lives before there was any sense of a way out, or awareness of the
possibility of freedom.
The fourth set of three:
These seemed to revolve around the bodily source of our energies:
our base chakras, including the functions of sex and reproduction.
10-11. The sorcerer and sorceress reminded me of occasions on which a
teacher teased us with the question: Do you believe in magic? Being
female, I found the ovaries came to mind.
12. The nāgarāja represented the root cause: our life force. Take care
with it; love and respect it; and foster health and happiness towards it.
This energy seems to rise from the ground, giving vitality and strength.

- 39 -
Examining the list as a whole, it seemed to me to embody a general
principle. As we work through life with our meditation practice as our
guide, we begin to realize more clearly that, when issues and problems
arise in our lives, we have a choice either to make things worse for
ourselves or to ‘go with the flow’ in the knowledge that whatever arises
will pass and the less we get in the way, the less painful it will be!
There are many ways to work with this list and it is something for
each reader to explore for her or himself. I found myself naturally drawn
to further investigation of the connections with the body. This led me to
reflect on possible connections between these symbols and the mudras
or ‘gestures’ of the Buddha, as portrayed in the varieties of Buddharūpa
(‘forms of the Buddha’) encountered in Buddhist shrine rooms. Each of
these gestures symbolizes an aspect of the Teaching and has associations
with a particular part of the Buddha’s life. Seven of the mudras are
especially associated with the seven ‘enlightenment factors’ (bojjhaṅgā),
each of which is in turn traditionally associated with one of the days of
the week:

INVESTIGATION OF DHAMMAS
INVESTIGATION (TUESDAY)

RESTRAINING THE WATERS CARRYING THE ALMS BOWL


MINDFULNESS (MONDAY) STRENGTH (WEDNESDAY)

GAZING AT THE BODHI TREE


EQUANIMITY (SUNDAY)

SHELTERED BY THE SERPENT IN MEDITATION


CONCENTRATION (SATURDAY) JOY (THURSDAY)

CONSIDERING WHETHER TO TEACH


STILLNESS (FRIDAY)

- 40 -
During my ‘investigation’ of the astrological symbols (corresponding
to the mudra for Tuesday), I found it helpful to relate the remaining six
enlightenment-factor mudras to the twelve symbols of the astrological
system, as follows:

THAI SYMBOL MUDRA THAI SYMBOL


1.Rahu Considering Whether to Teach 7. Golden Shrine
2.Devacāra Carrying the Alms Bowl 8. Palace
3.Prisoner wearing cangue In Meditation 9. Decapitated Person
4.Sorcerer Gazing at the Bodhi Tree 10. Gold Umbrella
5.Sorceress Restraining the Waters 11. Silver Umbrella
6.Nāgarāja Sheltered by the Serpent 12. Stupa

It seemed to me that the symbols in the right hand column somehow


represent a transformation of the symbols in the left-hand column into
something ‘higher’. The mudra in the middle seemed to represent the
transforming ‘third force’ – rather like the element of space, in which
transformation may occur. In other words: the symbols in the left hand
column all seem to represent varieties of ‘problem,’ while the mudras in
the middle column indicated the process of accepting and working
skillfully with those problems, leading on to the ‘solutions’ represented
by the symbols on the right.
For example, at times when I feel especially stressed (prisoner wear-
ing a cangue), I know that I need to practise (meditating mudra); then, as
my thoughts and worries, and the mind’s labeling tendency all gradually
settle, I find myself becoming calmer and more at peace (decapitated
person).
Suffice to say, these are my personal views and may not ring true for
others in the same way ... and, of course, that is the depth and the gift of
the Teaching!

- 41 -
KURUDHAMMA JĀTAKA
THE TEACHING OF THE KURUS
(J II 365–381)

The story from the present


The Teacher told this story whilst staying in the Jetavana, about a
monk who had killed a wild goose. [366] Two monks, who were great
friends, took the going forth and the higher ordination together and used
to travel around as if they were one. One day they came to Aciravatī, and
had a bathe, then stood on the sand sunning themselves and having a
good chat. At that moment two geese flew by in the sky. One of these
young monks picked up a stone and said, ‘I’m going to hit that goose right
in the eye!’ The other said, ‘But you can’t do that!’ ‘Leave it to me!’ said
the other. ‘And, by the way, I can get him either in one eye or in the
other!’ ‘But surely you should not do this!’ said the other. ‘Just watch
this!’ said the young monk, and he picked up a three-cornered stone and
hurled it just after the bird. The goose heard the stone whizzing through
the air and turned back his head. At that point the young man grabbed a
round stone and hurled it so that it hit the near eye and came out of the
other. The goose gave out a shriek and fell to the ground at their feet.
Monks who were standing here and there around saw this and
complained. ‘Sir! What are you doing, in the time of the teaching of a

- 42 -
Buddha, taking the going forth, and then doing something as shameful as
taking life?’ And they took him to show him up to the Tathāgata. The
Teacher asked him, ‘Is what they are saying true, that you have taken
life?’ ‘It is true, sir,’ he said. ‘Monk, how could you do such a thing after
taking the going forth in a teaching that leads to salvation? In times past
wise men, even though there was not a Buddha, and even though they
lived in the world, with all its impurities, felt concerns about the slightest
things. How can you, when you have become a monk when there is a
teaching, not feel so much as a scruple? A monk ought to be restrained
in body, speech, mind and discernment.’ And he related this story about
times past:

The story from the past


In times past, in the kingdom of Kuru in the city of Indapatta, the
Bodhisatta took rebirth in the womb of the chief queen, during the reign
of Dhanañjaya. In the course of time he attained adulthood and trained
at Taxila in all branches of knowledge. His father installed him as viceroy
and later, when his father had died, he took over the kingdom. [367] He
did not wobble in the ten duties of a king, keeping his adherence to the
teachings of the Kurus. Now the ‘Kuru teaching’ was actually the five
precepts. These purifications the Bodhisatta guarded carefully. And not
only the Bodhisatta. The queen mother, the chief queen, the viceroy, the
Brahmin chief priest, the royal rope-holder, the minister, the driver, the
businessman, the rice-tax measurer minister, the gatekeeper and the city
beauty, the courtesan, all kept it.
King, king’s mother, king’s wife, viceroy and priest, ropeholder, driv-
er, businessman, rice-tax measurer, and gatekeeper, even the courtesan:
all eleven kept the teachings of the Kurus.
They all of them kept these five pure sīlas. The king had six alms-halls
made: at the four gates of the city and in the middle of the city and at the
gate of his own residence; and every day he distributed 600,000 pieces
of money, and stirred up the entire continent of Jambudīpa with a holiday
atmosphere. All of India was overwhelmed with his love of giving and his
delight in it.
Now at this time there was, in the city of Dantapura, in the kingdom
of Kāliṅga, a king named King Kāliṅga. And in that kingdom it did not rain,
and because of this drought, there was famine in the land; and people

- 43 -
became frightened that because of the famine, contagious disease might
spread. These three fears gripped the people: of lack of food, drought
and pestilence. People wandered here, there and everywhere, destitute,
leading their children by the hand. And the entire population went to
Dantapura, stood at the royal gate, and raised a clamour.
The king, standing by the window, heard the noise. ‘Why are they
crying out?’ he asked.
[368] ‘Great king,’ was the reply. ‘Three fears have gripped the
nation. It does not rain, the crops fail, and there is famine. People without
food, destitute and stricken with disease, are wandering here, there and
everywhere, holding their children by the hand. Get the gods to send
rain!’
‘What did kings do in the olden days when there was no rain?’
‘In the olden days, when there was no rain, kings used to make gifts
and observe the uposatha day.* They used to enter into a royal chamber
and undertake a sīla for seven days, lying down on a grass mat. Then it
would rain.’
The king said, ‘Very well,’ and did as they suggested. But still it did
not rain. So the king asked the ministers, ‘I have done what was supposed
to be done, and it still does not rain. What shall I do?’
‘Great king, in the city of Indapatta, there is an auspicious elephant,
known as the Black Bull, that belongs to Dhanañjaya, the king of the
Kurus. Let’s bring him here, and then it will rain.’
‘But this king has an army of horses and elephants. He will be hard to
overcome. How can I bring the elephant?’
‘Great king,’ they replied, ‘there is no need to do it through battle.
The king loves giving and delights in generosity. If he were asked, he
would cut off his graciously adorned head, or tear out his trust-filled eyes.
He would indeed even give up his kingdom. There is no need even to
make entreaties. When asked, he will certainly give it to you.’

*Uposatha day: the day preceding the nights of the stages of the moon’s waxing and
waning: approximately the 1st, 8th, 15th and 23rd nights of the month.

- 44 -
‘But who is capable of asking him?’
‘The Brahmins, great king.’
So the king assembled eight Brahmins from a brahmin village and
with ceremonies and honour sent them to ask for the elephant. They took
funds for their journey and put on travelling clothes and, only spending
one night at each stop, they made a quick journey and within a few days
were eating almsfood at the gates of the city. When they had satisfied
bodily needs, they asked where the king went to give his donations.
People told them that he came on three days in the fortnight: the fourth,
the fifth and the eighth. ‘But tomorrow is the full moon, so he will come
then too.’
[369] On the following day the brahmins
went and stood by the eastern gate. The
Bodhisatta also, washed and adorned in
every way, riding upon an excellently
adorned elephant, with a great retinue, went
to the almsgiving hall at the eastern gate and,
getting down from the elephant, distributed
food to seven or eight people with his own
hands. ‘This is the way to give’, he said, and,
getting on his elephant, went to the southern
gate.
Because of the intense security, the priests at the eastern gate did
not get a chance at the eastern gate so they went to the southern gate to
watch out for when the king would arrive. When the king had reached a
raised mound not far from the gate, they raised their hands to hail the
king. The king steered the animal with a sharp goad towards them and
said, ‘Sirs, brahmins, what do you wish? Then the brahmins praised the
virtue (guṇo) of the bodhisatta and uttered these verses:
We have come, knowing of your faith and good behaviour,
lord of the people,
At Kāliṅga we bartered our wealth
for the sake of the wealth of the ‘Black One’.
[370] The Bodhisatta replied, saying, ‘And if, priests, you have turned
over all your money to get this elephant don’t worry: I’ll give you him in
all his glory.’ And he said these two verses:

- 45 -
Dependents and those that are not dependents: whoever comes – all
of these are not to be turned away.
This was the practice spoken of in the olden days.
So I give you, priests, this elephant,
Worthy of kings, a kingly possession,
In all his glory, with golden chain, driver and all,
And go wherever you wish.
[371] The Great Being said this while he was on the elephant’s back
– so, giving it to them, he dismounted and said, ‘If there is any bit that is
not decorated, I’ll decorate it and then give him.’ Three times he walked
around him, keeping him to his right, and he found no spot that was
unadorned. Then he placed the trunk into the hands of the Brahmins and
sprinkled flower-perfumed water from a golden urn over them and made
his gift. The priests accepted the elephant and his trappings and, seated
on his back, rode to Dantapura and handed him over to their king. But
even with the arrival of the elephant it still did not rain. The king asked,
‘What is the reason for this?’
They said, ‘King Dhanañjaya, the Kuru king, observes the Kuru teach-
ings and so in his kingdom it rains every fortnight or every ten days. This
is through the power of the king’s special virtue. How much are these
virtues to do with this elephant?’ When he heard their reply, the king
spoke, giving these orders to his priest and ministers, ‘Take this elephant,
with all his adornment and trappings back and return him to the king.
Inscribe upon a golden plate the teachings of the Kurus, and bring it back
here.’

The King:
These went to the king and returned his elephant into his hands,
saying, ‘King, even when this elephant came to the kingdom, it still did
not rain. [372] You, they say, keep the Kuru teaching. Our king wishes to
observe it too, and has sent us with the command to bring it to him,
inscribed on this golden plate. So please give us the teaching of the
Kurus!’
‘My friends, you’re right: I did observe the teachings of the Kurus. But
actually there is some doubt in me in this regard. This teaching of the
Kurus does not gladden my mind. Because of this I cannot give it to you!’

- 46 -
So why, you might ask, did this not satisfy the king? Because, it is said,
every third year, in the month of Kattika, the kings used to hold a festival
called Kattika. Celebrating this festival, the kings used to get dressed up
with all kinds of decorations, like gods. They used to stand by a yakkha
called the King of Many Colours, Cittarājā, and shoot to the four
directions many-coloured arrows decorated with flowers. This king then,
celebrating the festival, stood on the banks of a pool, near Cittarājā, and
shot many-coloured arrows. They saw arrows go in three directions, but
the fourth, that went over the surface of the water, they did not see land.
‘Oh no! What if the arrow that I
shot hit the body of a fish?’ This worry
(kukkucca = fourth hindrance), that he
might have broken his sīla through the
action of killing, came to the king:
because of this, his sīla did not satisfy
him. So he said, ‘My friends, this
concern has come to me about my
observation of the teachings of the
Kuru.’
‘Now my mother really does guard the teachings very well. You
should go and ask her.’
‘But, great king, the volition (cetanā) ‘I will take life’ never arose for
you. Without that consciousness (citta), there is no taking of life. So,
please give us your own (attāno) interpretation of the teaching of the
Kurus.
‘Oh, OK. Write it down then’, he said, and had inscribed on the golden
plate the words [373]:
What is alive should not be killed.
What is not given should not be taken.
Keep away from sex that harms.
If something is untrue do not say it.
Keep away from drink.
And when he had done this, he said, ‘But really, this doesn’t satisfy
me. You should go and get the teachings from my mother.’

- 47 -
The Queen Mother:
So the messengers took their leave of the king went to visit the queen
mother. ‘Madam: people say that you keep the teachings of the Kurus.
Please could you give them to us,’ they said.
‘My friends, it is true that I have kept the teachings of the Kurus. But
now this worry has come up for me, and the teaching does not bring
happiness. So I am awfully sorry, but I can’t give it to you.’ The thing was
that she had two sons: the elder being the king and the younger the
viceroy. Now a certain king had sent to the Bodhisatta perfumes of fine
sandalwood worth a hundred thousand, and a golden necklace, also
worth a hundred thousand. And he had thought, ‘Well, I’ll honour my
mother’ and sent them on to her. And she had decided, ‘I don’t rub
sandalwood on and I don’t wear necklaces. I’ll give them to my daughters-
in-law’. And then she thought, ‘My elder son’s wife is grand, established
as the chief queen, so I’ll give her the gold necklace. The younger one is
a poor thing. I’ll give her the sandalwood’. And she gave the gold necklace
to the queen and the sandalwood to the viceroy’s wife. But when she had
given them she pondered over it. ‘I observe the teachings of the Kurus.
Whether they are poor or not is not important at all. Even doing
something out of honour to the elder was not really fitting for me. So it
rather looks as though through this omission I have broken my sīla.’ This
worry came upon her, so she said this. And then the messengers said to
her, ‘When something is your own, it should be given just as you wish.
You have concern about something as insignificant as this: what other sin
would you do? [374] Sīla is not broken by something like that. Please give
us the teaching of the Kurus!’
And they received it from her and inscribed it on the golden plate.
‘But friends, even so, it does not satisfy me. My daughter-in-law,
though, does keep the teaching really well. Please go and ask her.’

The Queen:
So the messengers paid homage to her and left. And they went up to
the queen and made their enquiries of her in the same way as before
about the teaching of the Kurus. But she, in the same way, said, ‘I am
awfully sorry, but I cannot: this sīla does not bring me happiness!’ It
turned out that one day she had been sitting by her lattice window and

- 48 -
had looked down and seen the king making a ceremonial tour around the
city, with the viceroy behind him, sitting on the back of an elephant. And
desire had arisen in her. And she had speculated: ‘Now, what if I were to
have intimacy him? And what if his brother were to die, and then he’d
get the kingdom, and marry me!’ And then she thought: ‘Oh no! I am
supposed to keep the teaching of the Kurus. I have a husband, and I’ve
looked at another man with defilement! My sīla must have been broken.’
And worry came upon her. So then the messengers said to her: ‘Your
highness, just because a state of mind has arisen that is not unfaithful-
ness. If you feel concern about something like this what transgression will
you actually make? There is no breach of sīla; please give us the teaching
of the Kurus!’ Receiving it from her, they inscribed it upon the golden
plate.
‘But friends, even so, it does not satisfy me. Now the viceroy really
does keep the teaching well. Go and ask him.’

The Viceroy:
When she had said this the messengers went to the viceroy, and in
just the same way they asked him about the teaching of the Kurus. Now
the viceroy made a habit of going for an audience with the king in the
evening. And, as he went into the palace courtyard, if he was going to eat
with the king there or wanted to stay the night, he threw his reins and
goad on the yoke. Through this signal people knew to leave, and they
would come back again the next morning early to watch for his departure,
while the driver would watch the chariot and come back the next day
with it and wait at the palace door [375]. But if the viceroy was going to
leave at that time, he just left the reins and goad in the chariot and went
in to pay attendance to the king, and through this signal people knew that
he was going to leave pretty soon, and waited by the palace door. One
day this is just what he had done and had gone into visit the king, but
while he was in there it had started to rain. When the king saw this he
would not let him leave, and so he had eaten and slept there, while his
attendants, thinking he was going to come out in a moment, had stayed
all night where they were, getting dripping wet. When the viceroy had
come out on the next day he had seen everyone waiting there, wet
through, and thought, ‘Oh no! I am supposed to be keeping the teaching
of the Kurus. I’ve treated these people badly. There must be a breach in
my sīla.’ And so a worry had arisen in him. As a consequence of this, when

- 49 -
the messengers asked him about the teaching of the Kurus he could only
reply: ‘Certainly I have kept the teaching of the Kurus, but actually now I
am worried about it, so I am afraid I cannot give you the teaching.’ And
then the messengers said, ‘The state of mind associated with the thought,
‘Let these people be badly treated’, did not arise for you. Without volition
there is no kamma. If you create a worry over such a small thing, how will
you ever make a transgression?’ Saying this they went up to him, learnt
his sīla and wrote it down on the golden plate.
‘But still’, he said, ‘this does not satisfy me. Now the chief priest: he
really does keep it well. You should go and get it from him.’

The Chief Priest:


So the messengers went and approached the chief priest. But the
thing was that one day, on his way to wait upon the king, the chief priest
had spotted a chariot in the road, the colour of a budding sun, sent from
another king to his king. ‘Whose chariot is that!’ He had asked. ‘Present
for the king,’ they had said. ‘I am an old man,’ he had thought. ‘And if the
king were to give me this chariot I would travel on it and sit in some
comfort.’ Then he had gone to pay attendance on the king, and, while he
was standing there giving him a blessing, they had shown the king the
chariot. [376] The king had seen it and said: ‘That chariot is excessively
fine. Give it to my teacher.’ The priest had felt unwilling, and had not
wanted to take it, even though he had been asked again and again. And
why was that? Because, as it happens, this thought had cropped up for
him: ‘I keep the teaching of the Kurus, and I’ve felt desire for someone
else’s possessions. So there must be a breach of sīla here.’ He explained
this all to the messengers. ‘Friends, there is a concern for me with regard
to the teaching of the Kurus. It just does not please me. So I am sorry I
cannot teach you.’ But the messengers said, ‘Come on, sir! Sīla is not
broken by such a trifle as the arising of desire. If you create a worry about
something like that, what crime are you going to commit?’ And they
received the sīla from the priest, and inscribed it on the golden plate.
‘Well, even so,’ he said, ‘it still does not satisfy me. Now the royal
rope-holder: he really does keep the teaching of the Kurus well. Why
don’t you go and have a chat with him?’

- 50 -
The Royal Rope-holder:
So the messengers went to visit the royal rope-holder. The problem
here was that one day the royal rope-holder had been measuring a field
in the countryside. He had tied a rope to a stick, got the owner of the field
to take one end and had taken the other himself. The stick that had been
attached to the rope that he had been holding had reached the middle of
a crab-hole. He had thought, ‘If I put the stick in the hole, the crab inside
it will suffer. But if I put it in the other side, the property of the king will
suffer and diminish. What on earth am I supposed to do? And then he
had decided, ‘The crab should be in his hole. But if he were, he would
have shown himself.’ So he put the stick in the hole. But the stick made a
cracking sound. So then he had thought, ‘The stick has hit the crab’s shell,
and the crab must have been killed! And I am supposed to be keeping the
teaching of the Kurus. There must be a breach of sīla.’ [377]
So he said to the messengers, ‘Through this keeping of the teaching
of the Kurus worry has come up for me. So I just cannot teach you.’ But
the messengers said, ‘The state of mind associated with the thought, ‘let
the crab die’ did not arise for you. There is no kamma without volition. If
you are worried about such a small thing, what real harm will you do?’
And they learnt the sīla from him and inscribed it on the golden plate.
‘Even so,’ he said, ‘this does not satisfy me. Now the royal driver
really does keep the teaching well. Why don’t you go and ask him?’

The Royal Driver:


When they had said this they went and visited the royal driver, and
asked him. The thing was that one day the driver had taken the king into
his park. The king had spent the day amusing himself and in the evening
he had mounted the chariot to leave, but at sunset, before they reached
the city, an enormous rain cloud had gathered. The driver, fearful that
the king would get soaked, had spurred the Sindh horses on with the goad
and the horses had sprung forward at great speed. Ever since that time,
whether going towards or leaving the park, at that spot they always went
really fast. And why was this? Well apparently the horses thought, ‘There
must be something dangerous here: that is why the driver goaded us.’
But the driver had thought: ‘Well, it’s no fault of mine if the king gets wet
or not. More to the point is that I gave the goad to well-trained Sindh
horses, and now because of me they go at speed whether or not they are

- 51 -
tired. And I keep the teaching of the Kurus, and because of this it must be
broken.’ And he explained this and said, ‘For this reason I have a worry
about it, and I cannot give it to you.’ And then the messengers said, ‘The
state of mind, ‘May the Sindh horses become tired’ did not arise for you.
And without volition there is not technically a kammic action. If you feel
worry about such a trifle, what crime will you commit?’ And they received
the sīla from them and inscribed it on the golden plate. [378]
‘Well,’ said the driver, ‘it still does not satisfy me. Now as for the
businessman: he really keeps the teaching well. You ought to receive it
from him.’

The Businessman:
They then went to visit the businessman, and asked him. But one day
he had gone to his own paddy field and had seen the tip of the rice coming
out from the bud, and returning, had considered it and thought, ‘I’ll have
the rice flowers bound’, and had had one handful of the heads taken and
bound to a post. And then he had thought, ‘I ought to have given a
portion from this field to the king. It would surely be taking what is not
given if I even had a handful of riceheads taken from a field that had not
paid its due! And I am supposed to keep the teaching of the Kurus. It must
have been broken by me.’ So he explained this matter to them. ‘There is
a concern in me with regard to the teaching of the Kurus. So I’m sorry,
but I cannot give it to you.’ And the messengers replied: ‘No conscious-
ness arose in you relating to theft. Without this it is not possible to
declare that there has been the taking of something that is not given. If
you have worry for having done something so trifling, how will you steal
another person’s property?’ When they had said this, they received the
sīla from him and inscribed it on the golden plate.
‘Even so,’ he said, ‘it still does not satisfy me. But the minister for the
royal granaries keeps the teaching well. Why don’t you ask him?’

The Rice Tax Measurer:


So they went to visit the minister of rice measuring and questioned
him. But the story goes that one day he had been sitting at the door of
the rice store, having the rice for the king’s tax measured out, and was
taking rice from the unmeasured heap of rice and setting it down as
markers. At that moment it had started to rain. The minister, counting

- 52 -
the markers, had thought, ‘That’s the amount of measured rice,’ and had
swept up the rice markers with the measured rice. Then he had hastily
gone into the rice store, and waiting there, had thought, ‘Oh dear. I
wonder if I put the rice markers with the measured or the unmeasured
rice?’ And then he said to himself, [379] ‘If I put them in with the
measured rice, then the king’s property has increased and that of the
householders has diminished. Now I am supposed to adhere to the
teaching of the Kurus: it must have been broken!’ He explained this
matter to the messengers: ‘I have a worry about the teaching of the
Kurus. So I cannot give it to you.’ The messengers said to him, ‘There was
no thought of theft in your mind. Without this it is not possible to declare
that that you could call this taking what is not given. If you are worried
about such a thing, how would you ever take someone else’s property?’
When they had said this they received the sīla from him and inscribed it
on the golden plate.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘it still does not please me. But the gatekeeper really
does keep the teachings well. Go and get them from him.’

The Gatekeeper:
So they went to the gatekeeper and made their enquiries from him.
But, as it happens, one day he had cried out three times at the time for
closing the gate to the city. And a certain poor fellow, who had gone into
the woods with his own youngest sister to gather sticks and leaves, had
dashed back with her on hearing the call for the closing of the gate and
arrived there just in time. The gatekeeper had said, ‘Don’t you know that
the king is in the city? Don’t you know it’s time the gate for the whole city
is shut? So you wander off with women to make love and have fun in the
woods?’ And he had replied, ‘Look, this is not my wife: it is my sister.’ And
the gatekeeper had thought, ‘Oh no. It just is not on to call a sister a wife.
I adhere to the teaching of the Kurus, and sīla must have been broken.’
So he informed the messengers about this, and said, ‘So you see, there is
worry in me about the teachings of the Kurus, and I am unable to give it
to you.’ But the messengers pointed out, ‘But you said this because this
is how it seemed to you. [380] There is no breach of sīla in this. If you feel
compunction for so slight a reason, how will you ever tell an intentional
falsehood?’ And so they took down his sīla as well, and inscribed it on the
golden plate.

- 53 -
‘Even so,’ said the gatekeeper. ‘This does not satisfy me. But there is
a courtesan who observes sīla really well. Go and ask her about it.’

The Courtesan:
So they went to visit her. But she, just like the others, refused. And
why was that? Well, the story goes that King Sakka, the lord of the
heavens, had once come down to earth in the appearance of a young
man, with the idea that he would test her virtue. So he had given her a
thousand pieces with the words, ‘I’ll come and visit.’ He had then gone
back to his heavenly realm and had not visited for three years. She,
frightened of breaking her sīla, had not taken so much as a mite from the
hand of any other man, but gradually she had become poor, and had
thought, ‘This man turned up and gave me a thousand pieces but he has
not been back for three years. Now I have become poor and I cannot eke
out a livelihood. So I’ll just go and inform the ministers at the courts of
justice and get my earnings as before.’ So she had gone to the courts of
justice and said, ‘Sir, a certain man gave me a fee. He could be dead for
all I know. I cannot eke out a livelihood. So what shall I do, sir?’ The reply
had been, ‘As he has not returned after three years, what can you do?
Earn your living as before.’
No sooner had she left the court
than a certain man had approached her
and had offered her a thousand coins.
She had just been stretching out her
hand to take it, when at that moment
Sakka had shown himself. When she had
seen him she had said, ‘This man has
now arrived after giving me a thousand
coins three years ago. The money from
you is not for me.’ And she had
withdrawn her hand. Sakka had then
made his own body appear, and he had
stood shining in the sky just like a
dawning sun, gathering the whole city
around.

- 54 -
Sakka, in the middle of the crowd, had then announced, [381] ‘Three
years ago I gave this lady a thousand coins and did not visit, in order to
test her. Just as she guards her sīla, you should guard yours!’ And with
this injunction, he had her dwelling filled with seven kinds of jewels, and
had said, ‘From this time onwards, be careful.’ And giving her this advice,
he had returned back to the heavenly realm.
But she refused the messengers their request, for this reason, saying,
‘I held my hand out for one wage before I had earned another one. For
this reason my sīla does not please: I cannot give it to you.’ And the
messengers said, ‘There is no breach in sīla in holding out the hand. This
is sīla of the highest purity!’ And saying this they had received the sīla
from her, and inscribed it on the golden plate.

When they had written down the sīla of these eleven people on the
golden plate, they returned to Dantapura and gave the golden plate to
King Kāliṅga, and informed him about what had gone on. Then the king
lived within this teaching of the Kurus and fulfilled the five precepts.
And as soon as he did, it rained over the whole kingdom of Kāliṅga,
the three fears were allayed and the kingdom became safe and fertile.
And the Bodhisatta fulfilled all kinds of virtues, and was generous, and
with his companions went to fill the heavenly realms.

- 55 -
The teacher gave this talk, revealed the four noble truths and made
the connections with the births. And at the conclusion of the truths, some
become stream-enterers, some once-returners, some never-returners
and some arahats.

And the connections for the Jātaka are as follows:*


The courtesan was Uppalavaṇṇā, the gate-keeper Puṇṇa then,
The rope-holder Kaccāna, the measurer Kolita,
At that time Sāriputta was the businessman, Anuruddha the
driver,
The priest was the elder Kassapa and the viceroy Nandapaṇḍita,
The chief queen was Rāhulamātā and the older queen Māyā,
The king of the Kurus was the Bodhisatta: remember the Jātaka
in this way.

* See the notes on the following page.

- 56 -
Notes:
At the end of the tale, the characters of the Jātaka are identified as earlier rebirths
of the Buddha and his followers. These are:
Uppalavaṇṇā – one of the Buddha's chief nuns, pre-eminent amongst
nuns for psychic powers;
Puṇṇa – probably the Puṇṇa who discusses the stages of insight with
Sāriputta in the Rathavinīta Sutta;
Kaccāna – one of the Buddha's chief disciples, chief among expounders in full of
the brief sayings of the Buddha;
Kolita – another name for Moggallāna, the Buddha's chief disciple on
his left, pre-eminent amongst monks for psychic powers;
Sāriputta – the Buddha's chief disciple, often depicted on his right;
Anuruddha – pre-eminent for many meditative attainments, including his
mastery of breathing-mindfulness;
The elder Kassapa – another of the Buddha's chief disciples, particularly
eminent for his mastery of minute observances of form; a lover of natural
environments;
Nandapaṇḍita – chief of the Buddha's disciples in self-control;
Rāhulamātā (also called Yasodharā) – the Buddha's wife in his final life;
Māyā – the Buddha's mother in his final life; and
the Bodhisatta – the Buddha himself before his enlightenment.

- 57 -
THE GAP
And when you are made
to tilt yourself inescapably through
it will not be
as you imagined it. Your parted light
happens upon itself, as unlooked for
and as ridiculous
as sprung water. What will be filled
but the shot-through bottom
of your expectations, again and again,
bodying, then brimming?
we dooder on
miming, delirious, to an authentic smile;
we are assured
that this is “Quite normal.”

- 58 -
THE POOL
The light drew him to the Pool. The surface shone in the sunlight – it
seemed more than a reflection of the Sun. It was brilliant, but not
blinding. The silvery light seemed to come from a life in the liquid itself.
It was easy to look upon, relaxing and pleasing to the eye, inviting. It
promised to feel good to the skin and to taste good, to be clean and pure.
He felt an impulse to go into the water. He was alone in one of the
squares of green that you could come across unexpectedly in the old city,
an urban oasis. Perhaps it was created to provide recreational space in
their part of the concrete jungle for the estate dwellers.
This was a rare interlude in a busy life. An unexpected hour to kill in
the middle of the Spring day after what had turned out to be a short visit
to a colleague – he thought he’d investigate one of the narrow ginnels
that he’d passed by many times. He felt drawn into this still, quiet
peaceful space, a foil to the clamour of the traffic of the city, the press of
people and the anxieties and stress of his mind. It was tortuous and
rather overgrown, between elderly people’s flats, not really a good short
cut. Once he was on the path the noise died away. Those who use such
passages for drug use or other assignations seemed not to have
discovered it. The ginnel opened out into this square bordered by con-
crete walls so it was not overlooked. Just the grass, a few random per-
ennial shrubs and the Pool.
“Am I going mad?” he had asked himself later, driving back to his
world of routine and normality. “What did I do? Dived into in an urban
pool!” He felt close to the edge of reality. He found his recollection of

- 59 -
what had happened was vague. He was not sure how he came to be in
the water. It seemed to shimmer hypnotically on the surface, a dazzling
mirror. He could not clearly remember what he did. Any unseen onlooker
would surely have called the police or a doctor.
What glorious liquid! Deliciously cool, but not cold. An amazing tactile
sensation on the surface of the skin like a firm tingling, the sense of touch
seemed enhanced. The hint of a pleasing fresh odour. Where the liquid
entered the nose and mouth there was a gentle effervescence. The liquid
penetrated his skin – this he experienced knowing it was not merely a
fantasy, he actually felt it. There was a moment of acute anxiety at being
invaded, taken over, but the effect of the liquid itself calmed him
immediately and called him to let go and allow this to happen. Now all
his senses were enhanced. The light had an extra sheen and clarity, a
heightened awareness of the sense of touch, clearer hearing. He was
aware of increased clarity of mind, an effortless concentration, more
energy.
A sense of exhilaration and joy gave way to calm, a deep, satisfying
sense of calm. More refreshed than he had ever felt before he eventually
pulled himself out of the Pool, his hands on the grass for leverage. He
now felt foolish and confused but knew that something had happened.
What was this? Perhaps just his imagination, a peculiar set of
circumstances triggering an unusual mental reaction. Or was he going
mad, suffering delusions? Could it be some kind of rare natural
phenomenon, a kind of healing spring such as ancient Romans and other
civilizations used to frequent? He shook himself dry as best he could and
used his couple of paper tissues. The attempt was necessarily imperfect,
so his clothes were damp from his moist skin. This was still a good feeling,
a sort of caress. As people can do when their understanding of the world
is threatened, he sought the reassurance of his daily work with its
comforting routine and tried not to think about his experience.
“Why is your hair wet, Don?” someone asked.
“Oh, I had a bit of time to kill. I went for a walk after meeting Andy
Jacques and got rather hot and sweaty, I used the showers.”
His colleague still looked puzzled.
He talked to his wife as they were preparing the meal, to tell her he
had discovered a pool in the city and taken a dip.

- 60 -
She looked at him “What did you say?”
“It was great, really refreshing.”
Then an uncomfortable silence; neither really knowing what to say,
an awkwardness between them.
The heightened awareness of the senses stayed with him. He noticed
landscapes, shades of green in the fields and copses, quality of light, also
the smaller details – wild flowers, insects that he passed. He noticed too
the shades of taste and smell and enjoyed their subtleties. Sometimes
the increased sensitivity of emotions and clarity of thought could be quite
uncomfortable and even a bit distressing. Outwardly, he was still the
same as he had always been to his neighbours, family and friends,
although if he tried to share these perceptions he ran into the same
awkwardness.
After a week or two the effect of the immersion was less pronounced.
He wanted to go to the Pool again but felt some anxiety and approached
it rather fearfully. He chose the same time, a quiet time in the city’s hustle
and bustle. Even so, he felt the same peace, a falling away of the noise, a
relaxation of his muscles and of something deeper in his being as he
entered the ginnel. He realized how much the city and its demands had
made him who he was. He felt embarrassment, curiosity and excitement.
The water (was it water?) was the same, held a sense of familiarity and
recognition for him. He’d forgotten exactly how it felt.
He visited the Pool about once a month. He felt the human need to
communicate his experience with people so that he didn’t feel furtive and
secretive.
“There’s this pool you get to by a ginnel in Field’s Cross. It’s com-
pletely natural, just made for a dip. I reckon it’ll be fed by an under-
ground stream.”
This seemed to be one of those packages of information that are hard
to process so barely even register in the listener’s mind, the reaction was
a slight momentary lifting of facial muscles: “Oh, really?” However, a few
colleagues would question him.
“Are you telling me you swam in a pool in Field’s Cross?”
Or, poking fun: “Have you taken to wandering down ginnels in your
spare time?”

- 61 -
Generally, there was a growing feeling he had become a bit strange,
maybe a mid-life crisis or something. He seemed to have become rather
other-wordly as well.
The effect of the Pool became more pronounced and he noticed a
change in his reactions to life’s challenges – a more relaxed, less immed-
iate response. He felt a little alarmed. Was this some kind of depend-
ence?
The Pool was entering into him. It was under his skin as well as in that
grassy square in the city. It was the opposite of something dissolving; it
was as if the Pool’s water was reforming in him. He was still Don, but he
had a growing awareness of something there that he could draw on, a
sense of greater possibilities.
He was growing more distant from people and felt their suspicions
and distance from him. He did not feel in control of whatever was
happening. Was he going mad?
The last time he visited the Pool it all happened quite quickly, but he
was not alarmed, as if he really expected it. He felt the same falling away
of the noise and movement of the world outside. In the water, the fluid
was penetrating his skin. Then it was as if there was no longer an inside
and an outside to his body, as if the liquid and the solid form were no
longer separate. He felt like a tiny drop of water slipping into an ocean.
He was no more, yet he was so much more.
* ******
Two hooded youths ventured down the ginnel one evening, killing time.
They liked to get around the estate, being loosely associated by
friendship and relationship with the local “crew”. The deliberate,
rhythmical measured pace of those patrolling territory, verging on a
swagger, a sense of ownership of the area. A perceptible clinging odour
of stale cannabis shadowed their progress. They took an occasional swig
at their beer cans. One jettisoned his crisp packet.
“Are there fish in that?”
“Naaaah.”
Without realizing it, they refrained from going to the edge of the
Pool. Perhaps its water seemed unnaturally still and dark, an almost
frightening stillness.
*******

- 62 -
He had been very late. She had decided to get the ironing done while
she was waiting for him and this took on a feverish quality as she tried to
distract herself from her growing restless uneasiness as she felt
increasingly worried and then fearful. She needed to take action. No
answer on his mobile. She called the Police. No record of an accident, so
he became a Missing Person. Middle-aged teachers weren’t generally the
profile, said the interviewing officer. They could get involved in
altercations with youths, but there was no record.
It was a strange bereavement as he had just disappeared. Claire
pined for him. She was comforted against the shock, the massive
strangeness, disruption and dislocation of loss by her friends and family,
by her sister who could share feelings from when her brother in law
Jonathan died of cancer and faded away before their eyes. She went to
meet her sister in the city. She really did not feel like it, but her sister was
insistent. When she changed buses in the Field’s Cross area she felt a
pang of intense grief, remembering this was a part of the city he came to
for meetings he grumbled about having to attend these days.
Unaccountably, she felt for a brief period there that all was well and as it
should be.

- 63 -
MEETING THE BUDDHA ON THE ROAD
After the Buddha attained enlightenment, he set off from Bodhgaya in
search of his five previous companions to teach them the Dhamma. On
the road he met an ascetic called Upaka, who asked him, “Your faculties
are clear, friend … Who is your teacher?”
The Buddha replied in verse:
“I am conqueror of all, knower of all,
freed from taints in all things ….”
Upaka said, “From what you are saying, you are an arahat, a
Conqueror of the Infinite.”
The Buddha replied:
“Those like me are indeed conquerors,
who have reached the extinction of the āsavas.
I have conquered all bad dhammas.
Therefore, Upaka, I am a conqueror.”
Upaka replied, “Perhaps, friend …” and walked off, shaking his head.
Pāsarāsi Sutta, Majjhima Nikāya 26.6 (abridged)*

* Translations are by the author except where otherwise indicated.

- 64 -
If you met the Buddha on the road, how would you respond?
In the Mahayana it is sometimes said that we are the Buddha, and so
is everyone we meet. Both we and they are bringing something to the
situation which could potentially transform it. So we are always meeting
the Buddha on the road, all the time. But like Upaka, how often do we
turn aside, away from the enormity of the implications?
Like all Dhamma practice, the practice of engaging with others, part-
icularly of ‘right speech’, often asks more of us than we can manage, but
like all practice we can only start from where we are and who we are, and
gradually gain in clarity and depth of understanding. If self-doubt arises,
perhaps we can consider that the Buddha himself may have miscalcul-
ated in talking to Upaka, making a demand on him that Upaka was unable
to meet. So who are we to make our speech perfect? Or do we get caught
by the sense of ‘should’ that often appears in connection with sīla, a
sense of ‘should’ that is easy to ignore, or to rebel against, or to use to
judge others or ourselves? What do we feel about Upaka’s reaction: that
he should have responded differently? If so, what is the feeling quality of
that ‘should’?
Perhaps the ‘should’ is what we feel when we lose heart-sight of the
essential:
“When you know for yourselves, ‘These things when followed
lead to harm and unhappiness’, then avoid doing them … When
you know for yourselves, ‘These things when followed lead to
well-being and happiness,’ do them.”
Kālāma Sutta, Aṅguttara Nikāya 3.66

Right Speech
“Bhikkhus, if speech has five qualities it is spoken well, not badly:
it is blameless and not criticized by the wise. What five? It is
spoken at the right time, spoken in line with the truth, spoken
gently, spoken beneficially, spoken with a heart of metta.
Bhikkhus, if speech has these five qualities it is spoken well, not
badly: it is blameless and not criticized by the wise.”
Vācā Sutta, Aṅguttara Nikāya 5.198

- 65 -
THE NOBLE EIGHTFOLD PATH

Right Right | Right Right Right | Right Right Right


Understanding Intention | Speech Action Livelihood | Effort Mindfulness Concentration
_____________________ _____________________ ____________________________
Paññā (Wisdom) | Sīla (Ethics) | Samādhi (Meditation)

In the Noble Eightfold Path, right speech is the first aspect of sīla. It forms
a bridge between wisdom and right action, just as speech itself is a bridge
between the inner world and the outer world we share with others. Since
childhood, we have shared our experience with others through speech
and this sharing enables us to make sense of that experience, to feel that
we are part of a human community and even that we are ‘sane’. Since
speech organises the world conceptually for us, speaking is a very power-
ful act of kamma for both the speaker and the person spoken to, who
accepts or rejects the understanding which is conveyed. But speech is
much more than conceptual. The Bojjhaṅgaparitta* tells us that when the
Buddha was ill he asked Ven. Cunda to recite the seven factors of enlight-
enment to him, and “after rejoicing together, he immediately recovered
from that illness.” The Buddha could not have needed reminding of the
factors of enlightenment. So what was the power of speaking here that
went so far beyond conveying information?
Right speech as one of the factors of the Eightfold Path is explained
as abstaining from four kinds of wrong speech: false speech, divisive
speech, hurtful speech and pointless speech. These same four kinds of
wrong speech appear as separate precepts in an elaborated form of the
five precepts into eight, reflecting the central importance of speech in
sīla.†

*Samatha Chanting Book (2014) page 30, translation on page 86 (in the 2008 edition,
pages 30 and 78).
† Samatha Chanting Book (2014) page 65 (in the 2008 edition, page 57).

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Musāvāda – False Speech
“Abandoning false speech, he dwells refraining from false speech,
a truth-speaker, one to be relied on, trustworthy, dependable, not
a deceiver of the world.”
Samaññaphala Sutta, Dīgha Nikāya 2.13*
Musāvāda (false speech) is lying or wrong speech. It is saying something
untrue with intent to deceive, and this includes much more than what we
normally think of as lying. It is also about all those times when we try to
twist the truth slightly – exaggerating a story to make it more interesting,
pretending we’re fine when we’re not (you’ve just seen me stub my toe;
you know it hurts; so why do I say I’m fine when you ask if I’m OK?), saying
something we don’t quite believe because it’s expected of us or to please
someone, making a promise we’re not sure we’ll keep … as well as the
harder to catch aspects: the times when we’re really convinced we’re
right, the times when we’re holding a ‘view’, which however much it may
appear to coincide with reality, lacks truth because it comes from
attachment. At such times if we were more mindful, we might notice our
agitation or anger when someone disagrees with us.
Why do we deviate from the truth like this? Fear? Wanting to please?
Wishful thinking? …? It is interesting and fruitful to investigate with
mindfulness our own feelings and thoughts when we catch ourselves in
slight dishonesties of this kind. They may seem trivial, yet they point to
deep untruths within us, to our fundamental ignorance, which will only
completely disappear with nibbāna. Which must be why the Buddha told
his son,
“So too, Rāhula, when one is not ashamed to tell a deliberate lie,
there is no evil, I say, that one would not do. Therefore, Rāhula,
you should train thus: ‘I will not utter a falsehood even as a joke.’”
Ambalaṭṭhikārāhulovāda Sutta, Majjhima Nikāya 61.7†
In our practice of Dhamma, we use various methods to try to chip away
at our fundamental ignorance. Practising right speech can make its own
contribution, making aspects of our ignorance more easily visible to us

* Trans. Maurice Walshe.


† Trans. Bhikkhu Ñāṇamoli and Bhikkhu Bodhi.

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through the impact of what we say on ourselves and others – if only we
have enough mindfulness and humility to see clearly: the mindfulness to
be aware of others’ responses, and the humility to feel that their respons-
es may be valid, and to acknowledge truth where we find it, even at some
cost to ourselves – unlike Upaka. So truth lies as much in listening as in
speaking: listening to how others respond to our thoughts, but also
listening so that we can respond as best we can to theirs. Just as seeing
the truth has the power to transform a person, so speaking a truth that
embraces the felt truths of both speaker and listener can transform a
relationship, and change both the people within it. The same power lies
also in deep open-hearted listening to someone, letting go of imposing
our own felt truths. Striving for truth and honesty internally and external-
ly are inextricably linked. The more honest we can be externally, the more
the striving for truth can become a shared practice that helps to break
through limitations of vision and understanding from our confined inner
worlds.
“Wisdom is purified by morality, and morality is purified by
wisdom: where one is, the other is, the moral man has wisdom
and the wise man has morality, and the combination of morality
and wisdom is called the highest thing in the world.”
Soṇadaṇḍa Sutta, Dīgha Nikāya 4.6*

Pisuṇavācā – Divisive Speech


“Abandoning divisive speech, he refrains from it. Having heard
something here, he does not tell it there to cause a split with these
people. Having heard something there, he does not tell it here to
cause a split with those people. Thus he is one who reconciles
those at odds and encourages those at one, delighting in peace,
loving it and rejoicing in it, a speaker of words of peace-making.”
Samaññaphala Sutta, Dīgha Nikāya 2.13
We can measure the power of pisuṇavācā (divisive speech) by the depth
of our fear of what others may think of us, and by the social control this
exercises over us. The story of Upaka provides an example of the power
of what others think: once the Buddha had become widely acclaimed,

* Trans. Walshe.

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Upaka sought him out, asking for him as the ‘Conqueror of the Infinite’,
and joined the Sangha. If we practise restraint in how we speak of others,
becoming aware in doing so of the emotional loading behind our
thoughts, we are brought up against our own competitiveness, envy and
judgementalism, our fear of such feelings in others and our longing to
protect our own social vulnerability. Any speech that creates a sense of
‘me’ or ‘us’ versus ‘them’, however subtly, could be considered pisuṇa-
vācā: it is speech that helps to foster a sense of self, and is a denial of
anattā. The practice of abandoning such speech works directly on māna,
conceit or pride: ‘I am better than/worse than/equal to others’, a fetter
that disappears only with full enlightenment. So taking care of others in
speaking of them gives us another shared way into the depths of
Dhamma practice; and avoiding divisive speech helps to put an end to
divisions within ourselves as well as between ourselves and others.
The practice of avoiding divisive speech is much emphasized in Jud-
aism, which recommends that people should avoid speaking of the
absent altogether, whether to denigrate or to praise, except in simple
factual ways, since even to praise someone can carry an implicit dispar-
agement of someone else. But the Buddha said:
“Whatever person blames those who should be blamed, accord-
ing to the truth, at the proper time, and praises those who should
be praised, according to the truth, at the proper time, this person
is the most beautiful and refined …”
Potaliya Sutta, Aṅguttara Nikāya 4.100
On the other hand, according to the Sappurisa Sutta (Aṅguttara Nikāya
4.73), the ‘good person’ is one who evades talk about others’ faults and
makes others’ good qualities known, and who is open about their own
faults and plays down their own good qualities. How to know then, when
and how it is right to blame? How to find the balance point between
speech and silence, between judgementalism and genuine discrimin-
ation, even in our own thoughts? How to become trustworthy for
ourselves and others, and thus develop a real protection against social
vulnerability?

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Pharusavācā – Hurtful Speech
“Abandoning harsh speech, he refrains from it. He speaks what-
ever is humane, bringing pleasure to the ear, kind, going to the
heart, polite, pleasing and attractive to the mass of people.”
Samaññaphala Sutta, Dīgha Nikāya 2.13
If we know and attend to what it feels like to be on the receiving end of
unkind speech (or sometimes unkind lack of speech), then we know what
subtleties of speech we would do well to practise avoiding: teasing,
grumpiness, whingeing, speech that excludes some of those present, an
arrogant or dismissive or defensive tone of voice …. But we cannot just
practise this by being nice to everyone:
“Such speech as the Tathāgata knows to be true, correct and
beneficial, but which is unwelcome and disagreeable to others:
the Tathāgata knows the time to use such speech.”
Abhayarājakumāra Sutta, Majjhima Nikāya 58.8*
So how to deal internally and externally with actual or potential conflict,
especially when we are angry or afraid? How to find ways of speaking that
accept the other but also give space for ourselves, and at the same time
stay honest? How to listen without harshness? How to put the brahma-
vihāras into everyday every-moment practice and allow ourselves to be
touched by the joys and griefs of someone we are talking to, without
fear?

Samphapalāpa – Pointless Speech


“Abandoning frivolous speech, he refrains from it. He speaks at
the right time, of what is, with good purpose, in accordance with
Dhamma and good conduct. He is a speaker whose words are like
a treasure, timely, with reason, kept within limits and connected
with the Goal.”
Samaññaphala Sutta, Dīgha Nikāya 2.13
What does this mean for somebody living the lay life, who has to speak
to those around them about many subjects other than Dhamma? Perhaps

* Trans. Bhikkhu Ñāṇamoli and Bhikkhu Bodhi.

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to make small talk when it offers reassurance and warmth, but to avoid
talk that runs down energy, ignores others’ needs, feeds the ego not the
heart. The Buddha’s advice to his son, Rāhula, may help:
“Rāhula, if you reflect and know that ‘This act of speech that I
desire to do would not lead to harm for myself, or for others, or
for both; it is a wholesome verbal action, that causes happiness
and has happiness as its fruit’; then, Rāhula, you should do such
an act of speech.”
Ambalaṭṭhikārāhulovāda Sutta, Majjhima Nikāya 61.12
So to practise this restraint is to strive for more and more constant mind-
fulness of the quality of our impulses to speak, the quality of our speech
externally, and the quality of quietness within.

Meeting the Buddha on the Road Again


Meeting the Buddha would be profoundly challenging, profoundly
joyful – and perhaps a bit scary? Such is the practice of right speech: a
constant test of our wisdom, kindness, compassion, joy for others and
ourselves, and equanimity, and we cannot develop any of these fully
without it. While it enriches our life on a mundane level, it also takes us
directly to the heart of Dhamma practice in its full depth, and from this
comes both its difficulty and the great treasure and joy to be gained from
it. It is a practice for those around us perhaps as much as for ourselves,
and particularly for those with whom we walk the road of Dhamma. Our
ability to share with others on that road, to help them along and to be
helped by them, is limited or fostered by the quality of our speech. The
quality of sangha that we can build depends on it.
Upaka in the end became a non-returner. In walking this path of good
speaking and good listening, may we follow in his footsteps, and may we
meet the Buddha more and more fully on our road.

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SONNET FOR LANCE
It feels a bit raw like a cool Greenstreete evening
in spring or summer when we’re out on our own
it’s after tea and sun soon to be leaving
early into the week so easy to moan …
somewhat down in the dumps not letting it show
here now not at home what performance pretend
how best to proceed when battery quite low
this field so unyielding too tough to transcend …
clear eyed compass bearing steer straight ahead
wide awake vision unwilling to waver
continue to walk with consistent tread
spread Love shed Light without fear or favour …
for a job well done joy and no regrets
so fortunate we friends who won’t forget …

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