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Bhuddist Spectrum
Meeting the divine messengers
Bhikkhu Bodhi
The traditional legend of the Buddha's quest for enlightenment tells
us that throughout his youth and early manhood Prince Siddhattha, the
Bodhisatta, lived in complete ignorance of the most elementary facts of
human life. His father, anxious to protect his sensitive son from
exposure to suffering, kept him an unwitting captive of nescience.
Incarcerated in the splendor of his palace, amply supplied with sensual
pleasures and surrounded by merry friends, the prince did not entertain
even the faintest suspicion that life could offer anything other than an
endless succession of amusements and festivities.
Fateful event
It was only on that fateful day in his twenty-ninth year, when
curiosity led him out beyond the palace walls, that he encountered the
four "divine messengers" that were to change his destiny. The first
three were the old man, the sick man, and the corpse, which taught him
the shocking truths of old age, illness, and death; the fourth was a
wandering ascetic, who revealed to him the existence of a path whereby
all suffering can be fully transcended.
 This charming story, which has nurtured the faith of Buddhists
through the centuries, enshrines at its heart a profound psychological
truth. In the language of myth it speaks to us, not merely of events
that may have taken place centuries ago, but of a process of awakening
through which each of us must pass if the Dhamma is to come to life
within ourselves.
Beneath the symbolic veneer of the ancient legend we can see that
Prince Siddhattha's youthful sojourn in the palace was not so different
from the way in which most of us today pass our entire lives often,
sadly, until it is too late to strike out in a new direction. Our homes
may not be royal palaces, and the wealth at our disposal may not
approach anywhere near that of a North Indian rajah, but we share with
the young Prince Siddhattha a blissful (and often willful) oblivion to
stark realities that are constantly thrusting themselves on our
attention.
Comfortable life
If the Dhamma is to be more than the bland, humdrum background of a
comfortable life, if it is to become the inspiring, sometimes grating
voice that steers us on to the great path of awakening, we ourselves
must emulate the Bodhisatta in his process of maturation. We must join
him on that journey outside the palace walls - the walls of our own
self-assuring preconceptions - and see for ourselves the divine
messengers we so often miss because our eyes are fixed on "more
important things," i.e., on our mundane preoccupations and goals.
The Buddha says that there are few who are stirred by things that are
truly stirring, compared to those people, far more numerous, who are not
so stirred. The spurs to awakening press in on us from all sides, yet
too often, instead of acknowledging them, we respond simply by putting
on another layer of clothes to protect ourselves from their sting.
This statement is not disproved even by the recent deluge of
discussion and literature on aging, life-threatening illnesses, and
alternative approaches to death and dying. For open and honest awareness
is still not sufficient for the divine messengers to get their message
across. In order for them to convey their message, the message that can
goad us on to the path to liberation, something more is needed. We must
confront aging, illness, and death, not simply as inescapable realities
with which we must somehow cope at the practical level, but as envoys
from the beyond, from the far shore, disclosing new dimensions of
meaning.
This disclosure takes place at two levels. First, to become divine
messengers, the facts of aging, illness, and death must jolt us into an
awareness of the fragile, precarious nature of our normal day-to-day
lives. They must impress upon our minds the radical deficiency that runs
through all our worldly concerns, extending to conditioned existence in
its totality. Thereby they become windows opening upon the first noble
truth, the noble truth of suffering, which the Buddha says comprises not
only birth, aging, illness, and death, not only sorrow, grief, pain, and
misery, but all the "five aggregates of clinging" that make up our
being-in-the-world.
When we meet the divine messengers at this level, they become
catalysts that can induce in us a profound internal transformation. We
realize that because we are frail and inescapably mortal we must make
drastic changes in our existential priorities and personal values.
Instead of letting our lives be consumed by transient trivia, by things
that are here today and gone tomorrow, we must give weight to "what
really counts," to aims and actions that will exert a lasting influence
upon our long-range destinies - upon our final destiny in this life, and
upon our ultimate direction in the cycle of repeated birth and death.
Personal playground
Before such a revaluation takes place, we generally live in a
condition that the Buddha describes by the term pamada, negligence or
heedlessness. Imagining ourselves immortal, and the world our personal
playground, we devote our energies to the accumulation of wealth, the
enjoyment of sensual pleasures, the achievement of status, the quest for
fame and renown.
The remedy for heedlessness is the very same quality that was aroused
in the Bodhisatta when he met the divine messengers in the streets of
Kapilavatthu. This quality, called in Pali samvega, is a sense of
urgency, an inner commotion or shock which does not allow us to rest
content with our habitual adjustment to the world. Instead it drives us
on, out of our cozy palaces and into unfamiliar jungles, to work out
with diligence an authentic solution to our existential plight.
It is at this point that the second function of the divine messengers
comes to prominence. For aging, sickness, and death are not only emblems
of the unsatisfactory nature of mundane existence but pointers to a
deeper reality that lies beyond. In the traditional legend the old man,
the sick man, and the corpse are gods in disguise; they have been sent
down to earth from the highest heaven to awaken the Bodhisatta to his
momentous mission, and once they have delivered their message they
resume their celestial forms.
The final word of the Dhamma is not surrender, not an injunction to
resign ourselves stoically to old age, sickness, and death. This is the
preliminary message, the announcement that our house is ablaze. The
final message is other: an ebullient cry that there is a place of
safety, an open field beyond the flames, and a clear exit sign pointing
the way of escape.
If in this process of awakening we must meet old age, sickness, and
death face to face, that is because the place of safety can be reached
only by honest confrontation with the stark truths about human
existence. We cannot reach safety by pretending that the flames that
engulf our home are nothing but bouquets of flowers: we must see them as
they are, as real flames.
When, however, we do look at the divine messengers squarely, without
embarrassment or fear, we will find that their faces undergo an
unexpected metamorphosis. Before our eyes, by subtle degrees, they
change into another face - the face of the Buddha, with its serene smile
of triumph over the army of Mara, over the demons of Desire and Death.
The divine messengers point to what lies beyond the transient, to a
dimension of reality where there is no more aging, no more sickness, and
no more death. This is the goal and final destination of the Buddhist
path - Nibbana, the Unaging, the Unailing, the Deathless. It is to
direct us there that the divine messengers have appeared in our midst,
and the good news of deliverance is their message.
www.accesstoinsight.org
Meditation for daily life:
Strengthening concentration power
Dr Padmaka Silva
If there is a person in whom a Samadhi has developed and if he wishes
to make use of that Samadhi and in order to strengthen that Samadhi, he
should meditate in the morning, day and night. If he remains without
meditating it becomes impossible to strengthen that Samadhi. He fails to
get the comfort associated with Samadhi. Although he feels at some time
that it does not develop it develops at least to a small extent. It is
like climbing a hill. Doesnt he ascend the hill slowly even using a
walking stick? Although he thinks it does not develop it develops
internally at least little by little.
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Reciting is one good way to proper
meditation. AFP |
He thinks it is not developing on thinking of a time when it was
developing. Suppose meditation develops well in the day time. But it
does not happen in the same way in the morning. Then he thinks it is not
developing. But even at that time it takes place even to a small extent.
Therefore try to carry out these meditations systematically throughout
the entire day. If not it will not be possible to achieve a success.
Arising comfort
The next matter is that an individual who does not meditate in the
morning, daytime and night in this manner fails to achieve the comfort
arising from meditation because he meditates only at one time. He does
not meditate at different times.
Different times
Thereby he does not achieve the comfort arising from meditation. If
he meditates in a balanced manner it becomes possible to remain in
comfort.
Actually it is possible to attain some comfort only by meditating.
The ability to reduce Raga, Dosa and Moha (greed, aversion and illusion)
arises only through meditation. That reduction itself causes some
comfort. But it is not a complete comfort.
Raga, Dosa and Moha get thinned down and suppressed in an individual
who meditates even for a short while. Then he gets some comfort. If he
carries out the meditation well at different times throughout the day in
a balanced manner his merit becomes strong. When the merit side becomes
strong, sins start wearing off.
(Compiled with instructions given by Ven Nawalapitiye Ariyawansa
Thera)
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To be continued
Metta means goodwill
Thanissaro Bhikkhu
Notice that last statement: "May they look after themselves with
ease." You're not saying that you're going to be there for all beings
all the time. And most beings would be happier knowing that they could
depend on themselves rather than having to depend on you. I once heard a
Dharma teacher say that he wouldn't want to live in a world where there
was no suffering because then he wouldn't be able to express his
compassion which when you think about it, is an extremely selfish
wish. He needs other people to suffer so he can feel good about
expressing his compassion? A better attitude would be, "May all beings
be happy. May they be able to look after themselves with ease." That way
they can have the happiness of independence and self-reliance.
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Promoting
true happiness for all |
Another set of metta phrases is in the Karaniya Metta Sutta. They
start out with a simple wish for happiness:
Happy at heart
Happy, at rest, may all beings be happy at heart. Whatever beings
there may be, weak or strong, without exception, long, large, middling,
short, subtle, blatant, seen unseen, near far, born seeking birth: May
all beings be happy at heart.
But then they continue with a wish that all beings avoid the causes
that would lead them to unhappiness:
Let no one deceive another or despise anyone anywhere, or through
anger or resistance wish for another to suffer.
- Snp 1.8
In repeating these phrases, you wish not only that beings be happy,
but also that they avoid the actions that would lead to bad karma, to
their own unhappiness. You realize that happiness has to depend on
action: For people to find true happiness, they have to understand the
causes for happiness and act on them. They also have to understand that
true happiness is harmless. If it depends on something that harms
others, it's not going to last. Those who are harmed are sure to do what
they can to destroy that happiness. And then there's the plain quality
of sympathy: If you see someone suffering, it's painful. If you have any
sensitivity at all, it's hard to feel happy when you know that your
happiness is causing suffering for others.
So again, when you express goodwill, you're not saying that you're
going to be there for them all the time. You're hoping that all beings
will wise up about how to find happiness and be there for themselves.
The Karaniya Metta Sutta goes on to say that when you're developing
this attitude, you want to protect it in the same way that a mother
would protect her only child.
As a mother would risk her life to protect her child, her only child,
even so should one cultivate a limitless heart with regard to all
beings.
Some people misread this passage - in fact, many translators have
mistranslated it - thinking that the Buddha is telling us to cherish all
living beings the same way a mother would cherish her only child. But
that's not what he's actually saying. To begin with, he doesn't mention
the word "cherish" at all. And instead of drawing a parallel between
protecting your only child and protecting other beings, he draws the
parallel between protecting the child and protecting your goodwill. This
fits in with his other teachings in the Canon. Nowhere does he tell
people to throw down their lives to prevent every cruelty and injustice
in the world, but he does praise his followers for being willing to
throw down their lives for their precepts:
Just as the ocean is stable and does not overstep its tideline, in
the same way my disciples do not - even for the sake of their lives -
overstep the training rules I have formulated for them.
- Ud 5.5
The verses here carry a similar sentiment: You should be devoted to
cultivating and protecting your goodwill to make sure that your virtuous
intentions don't waver. This is because you don't want to harm anyone.
Harm can happen most easily when there's a lapse in your goodwill, so
you do whatever you can to protect this attitude at all times. This is
why, as the Buddha says toward the end of the sutta, you should stay
determined to practice this form of mindfulness: the mindfulness of
keeping in mind your wish that all beings be happy, to make sure that it
always informs the motivation for everything you do.
Thoughts of metta
This is why the Buddha explicitly recommends developing thoughts of
metta in two situations where it's especially important - and especially
difficult - to maintain skillful motivation: when others are hurting
you, and when you realize that you've hurt others.
If others are harming you with their words or actions - "even if
bandits were to carve you up savagely, limb by limb, with a two-handled
saw" - the Buddha recommends training your mind in this way:
Our minds will be unaffected and we will say no evil words. We will
remain sympathetic, with a mind of goodwill, and with no inner hate. We
will keep pervading these people with an awareness imbued with goodwill
and, beginning with them, we will keep pervading the all-encompassing
world with an awareness imbued with goodwill abundant, expansive,
immeasurable, free from hostility, free from ill will. MN 21
In doing this, the Buddha says, you make your mind as expansive as
the River Ganges or as large as the earth in other words, larger than
the harm those people are doing or threatening to do to you. He himself
embodied this teaching after Devadatta's attempt on his life. As he told
Mara - who had come to taunt him while he was resting from a painful
injury - "I lie down with sympathy for all beings." (SN 4.13) When you
can maintain this enlarged state of mind in the face of pain, the harm
that others can do to you doesn't seem so overwhelming, and you're less
likely to respond in unskillful ways. You provide protection - both for
yourself and for others against any unskillful things you otherwise
might be tempted to do.
As for the times when you realize that you've harmed others, the
Buddha recommends that you understand that remorse is not going to undo
the harm, so if an apology is appropriate, you apologize. In any case,
you resolve not to repeat the harmful action again. Then you spread
thoughts of goodwill in all directions.
This accomplishes several things. It reminds you of your own
goodness, so that you don't - in defense of your self-image - revert to
the sort of denial that refuses to admit that any harm was done. It
strengthens your determination to stick with your resolve not to do
harm. And it forces you to examine your actions to see their actual
effect: If any other of your habits are harmful, you want to abandon
them before they cause further harm. In other words, you don't want your
goodwill to be just an ungrounded, floating idea. You want to apply it
scrupulously to the nitty-gritty of all your interactions with others.
That way your goodwill becomes honest. And it actually does have an
impact, which is why we develop this attitude to begin with: to make
sure that it actually does animate our thoughts, words, and deeds in a
way that leads to a happiness harmless for all.
Finally, there's a passage where the Buddha taught the monks a chant
for spreading goodwill to all snakes and other creeping things. The
story goes that a monk meditating in a forest was bitten by a snake and
died. The monks reported this to the Buddha and he replied that if that
monk had spread goodwill to all four great families of snakes, the snake
wouldn't have bitten him. Then the Buddha taught the monks a protective
chant for expressing metta not only for snakes, but also for all beings.
I have good will for footless beings, good will for two-footed
beings, good will for four-footed beings, good will for many-footed
beings. May footless beings do me no harm. May two-footed beings do me
no harm. May four-footed beings do me no harm. May many-footed beings do
me no harm. May all creatures, all breathing things, all beings each
every one - meet with good fortune. May none of them come to any evil.
Limitless is the Buddha, limitless the Dhamma, limitless the Sangha.
There is a limit to creeping things: snakes, scorpions, centipedes,
spiders, lizards, rats. I have made this safeguard, I have made this
protection. May the beings depart.
AN 4.67
Different species
The last statement in this expression of metta takes into
consideration the truth that living together is often difficult
especially for beings of different species that can harm one another
and the happiest policy for all concerned is often to live harmlessly
apart.
These different ways of expressing metta show that metta is not
necessarily the quality of loving kindness. Metta is better thought of
as goodwill, and for two reasons. The first is that goodwill is an
attitude you can express for everyone without fear of being hypocritical
or unrealistic. It recognizes that people will become truly happy not as
a result of your caring for them but as a result of their own skillful
actions, and that the happiness of self-reliance is greater than any
happiness that comes from dependency.
The second reason is that goodwill is a more skillful feeling to have
toward those who would be suspicious of your lovingkindness or try to
take advantage of it. There are probably people you've harmed in the
past who would rather not have anything to do with you ever again, so
the intimacy of lovingkindness would actually be a source of pain for
them, rather than joy. There are also people who, when they see that you
want to express lovingkindness, would be quick to take advantage of it.
Concluded
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