Majjhima Nikāya (Middle-Length Discourses)

So I approached Āḷāra Kālāma and said to him, ‘Reverend Kālāma, to what extent do you say you’ve realized this teaching with your own insight?’ When I said this, he declared the dimension of nothingness. Then it occurred to me, ‘It’s not just Āḷāra Kālāma who has faith, energy, mindfulness, immersion, and wisdom; I too have these things. Why don’t I make an effort to realize the same teaching that Āḷāra Kālāma says he has realized with his own insight?’ I quickly realized that teaching with my own insight, and lived having achieved it. So I approached Āḷāra Kālāma and said to him, ‘Reverend Kālāma, is it up to this point that you realized this teaching with your own insight, and declare having achieved it?’ ‘I have, reverend.’ ‘I too have realized this teaching with my own insight up to this point, and live having achieved it.’ ‘We are fortunate, reverend, so very fortunate to see a venerable such as yourself as one of our spiritual companions! So the teaching that I’ve realized with my own insight, and declare having achieved it, you’ve realized with your own insight, and dwell having achieved it. The teaching that you’ve realized with your own insight, and dwell having achieved it, I’ve realized with my own insight, and declare having achieved it. So the teaching that I know, you know, and the teaching you know, I know. I am like you and you are like me. Come now, reverend! We should both lead this community together.’ And that is how my tutor Āḷāra Kālāma placed me, his pupil, on the same position as him, and honored me with high praise. Then it occurred to me, ‘This teaching doesn’t lead to disillusionment, dispassion, cessation, peace, insight, awakening, and extinguishment. It only leads as far as rebirth in the dimension of nothingness.’ Realizing that this teaching was inadequate, I left disappointed. I set out to discover what is skillful, seeking the supreme state of sublime peace. I approached Uddaka son of Rāma and said to him, ‘Reverend, I wish to lead the spiritual life in this teaching and training.’ Uddaka replied, ‘Stay, venerable. This teaching is such that a sensible person can soon realize their own denomination with their own insight and live having achieved it.’ I quickly memorized that teaching. As far as lip-recital and verbal repetition went, I spoke the doctrine of knowledge, the elder doctrine. I claimed to know and see, and so did others. Then it occurred to me, ‘It is not solely by mere faith that Rāma declared: “I realize this teaching with my own insight, and live having achieved it.” Surely he meditated knowing and seeing this teaching.’

So I approached Uddaka son of Rāma and said to him, ‘Reverend, to what extent did Rāma say he’d realized this teaching with his own insight?’ When I said this, Uddaka son of Rāma declared the dimension of neither perception nor non-perception. Then it occurred to me, ‘It’s not just Rāma who had faith, energy, mindfulness, immersion, and wisdom; I too have these things. Why don’t I make an effort to realize the same teaching that Rāma said he had realized with his own insight?’ I quickly realized that teaching with my own insight, and lived having achieved it. So I approached Uddaka son of Rāma and said to him, ‘Reverend, had Rāma realized this teaching with his own insight up to this point, and declared having achieved it?’ ‘He had, reverend.’ ‘I too have realized this teaching with my own insight up to this point, and live having achieved it.’ ‘We are fortunate, reverend, so very fortunate to see a venerable such as yourself as one of our spiritual companions! So the teaching that Rāma had realized with his own insight, and declared having achieved it, you’ve realized with your own insight, and dwell having achieved it. The teaching that you’ve realized with your own insight, and dwell having achieved it, Rāma had realized with his own insight, and declared having achieved it. So the teaching that Rāma directly knew, you know, and the teaching you know, Rāma directly knew. Rāma was like you and you are like Rāma. Come now, reverend! You should lead this community.’ And that is how my spiritual companion Uddaka son of Rāma placed me in the position of a tutor and honored me with high praise. Then it occurred to me, ‘This teaching doesn’t lead to disillusionment, dispassion, cessation, peace, insight, awakening, and extinguishment. It only leads as far as rebirth in the dimension of neither perception nor non-perception.’ Realizing that this teaching was inadequate, I left disappointed.

I set out to discover what is skillful, seeking the supreme state of sublime peace. Traveling stage by stage in the Magadhan lands, I arrived at the town of Senā in Uruvelā. There I saw a delightful park, a lovely grove with a flowing river that was clean and charming, with smooth banks. And nearby was a village to resort to for alms. Then it occurred to me, ‘This park is truly delightful, a lovely grove with a flowing river that’s clean and charming, with smooth banks. And nearby there’s a village to resort to for alms. This is good enough for striving for a gentleman wanting to strive.’ So I sat down right there, thinking, ‘This is good enough for striving.’

And then these three similes, which were neither supernaturally inspired, nor learned before in the past, occurred to me.

Suppose there was a green, sappy log, and it was lying in water. Then a person comes along with a drill-stick, thinking to light a fire and produce heat. What do you think, Prince? By drilling the stick against that green, sappy log lying in water, could they light a fire and produce heat?” “No, sir. Why is that? Because it’s a green, sappy log, and it’s lying in the water. That person will eventually get weary and frustrated.”

“In the same way, there are ascetics and brahmins who don’t live withdrawn in body and mind from sensual pleasures. They haven’t internally given up or stilled desire, affection, infatuation, thirst, and passion for sensual pleasures. Regardless of whether or not they suffer painful, sharp, severe, acute feelings due to exertion, they are incapable of knowledge and vision, of supreme awakening. This was the first example that occurred to me.

Then a second example occurred to me. Suppose there was a green, sappy log, and it was lying on dry land far from the water. Then a person comes along with a drill-stick, thinking to light a fire and produce heat. What do you think, Prince? By drilling the stick against that green, sappy log on dry land far from water, could they light a fire and produce heat?” “No, sir. Why is that? Because it’s still a green, sappy log, despite the fact that it’s lying on dry land far from water. That person will eventually get weary and frustrated.” “In the same way, there are ascetics and brahmins who live withdrawn in body and mind from sensual pleasures. But they haven’t internally given up or stilled desire, affection, infatuation, thirst, and passion for sensual pleasures. Regardless of whether or not they suffer painful, sharp, severe, acute feelings due to exertion, they are incapable of knowledge and vision, of supreme awakening. This was the second example that occurred to me.

Then a third example occurred to me. Suppose there was a dried up, withered log, and it was lying on dry land far from the water. Then a person comes along with a drill-stick, thinking to light a fire and produce heat. What do you think, Prince? By drilling the stick against that dried up, withered log on dry land far from water, could they light a fire and produce heat?” “Yes, sir. Why is that? Because it’s a dried up, withered log, and it’s lying on dry land far from water.” “In the same way, there are ascetics and brahmins who live withdrawn in body and mind from sensual pleasures. And they have internally given up and stilled desire, affection, infatuation, thirst, and passion for sensual pleasures. Regardless of whether or not they suffer painful, sharp, severe, acute feelings due to exertion, they are capable of knowledge and vision, of supreme awakening. This was the third example that occurred to me. These are the three similes, which were neither supernaturally inspired, nor learned before in the past, that occurred to me.

Then it occurred to me, ‘Why don’t I, with teeth clenched and tongue pressed against the roof of my mouth, squeeze, squash, and scorch mind with mind?’ So that’s what I did, until sweat ran from my armpits. It was like when a strong man grabs a weaker man by the head or throat or shoulder and squeezes, squashes, and crushes them. In the same way, with teeth clenched and tongue pressed against the roof of my mouth, I squeezed, squashed, and crushed mind with mind until sweat ran from my armpits. My energy was roused up and unflagging, and my mindfulness was established and lucid, but my body was disturbed, not tranquil, because I’d pushed too hard with that painful striving.

Then it occurred to me, ‘Why don’t I practice the breathless absorption?’ So I cut off my breathing through my mouth and nose. But then winds came out my ears making a loud noise, like the puffing of a blacksmith’s bellows. My energy was roused up and unflagging, and my mindfulness was established and lucid, but my body was disturbed, not tranquil, because I’d pushed too hard with that painful striving.

Then it occurred to me, ‘Why don’t I keep practicing the breathless absorption?’ So I cut off my breathing through my mouth and nose and ears. But then severe winds ground my head, like a strong man was drilling into my head with a sharp point. My energy was roused up and unflagging, and my mindfulness was established and lucid, but my body was disturbed, not tranquil, because I’d pushed too hard with that painful striving.

Then it occurred to me, ‘Why don’t I keep practicing the breathless absorption?’ So I cut off my breathing through my mouth and nose and ears. But then I got a severe headache, like a strong man was tightening a strong leather strap around my head. My energy was roused up and unflagging, and my mindfulness was established and lucid, but my body was disturbed, not tranquil, because I’d pushed too hard with that painful striving.

Then it occurred to me, ‘Why don’t I keep practicing the breathless absorption?’ So I cut off my breathing through my mouth and nose and ears. But then severe winds carved up my belly, like a deft butcher or their apprentice was slicing my belly open with a sharp meat cleaver. My energy was roused up and unflagging, and my mindfulness was established and lucid, but my body was disturbed, not tranquil, because I’d pushed too hard with that painful striving.

Then it occurred to me, ‘Why don’t I keep practicing the breathless absorption?’ So I cut off my breathing through my mouth and nose and ears. But then there was a severe burning in my body, like two strong men grabbing a weaker man by the arms to burn and scorch him on a pit of glowing coals. My energy was roused up and unflagging, and my mindfulness was established and lucid, but my body was disturbed, not tranquil, because I’d pushed too hard with that painful striving.

Then some deities saw me and said, ‘The ascetic Gotama is dead.’ Others said, ‘He’s not dead, but he’s dying.’ Others said, ‘He’s not dead or dying. The ascetic Gotama is a perfected one, for that is how the perfected ones live.’

Then it occurred to me, ‘Why don’t I practice completely cutting off food?’ But deities came to me and said, ‘Good fellow, don’t practice totally cutting off food. If you do, we’ll infuse heavenly nectar into your pores and you will live on that.’ Then it occurred to me, ‘If I claim to be completely fasting while these deities are infusing heavenly nectar in my pores, that would be a lie on my part.’ So I refused those deities, saying, ‘There’s no need.’

Then it occurred to me, ‘Why don’t I just take a little bit of food each time, a handful of broth made from mung beans, horse gram, chickpeas, or green gram?’ So that’s what I did, until my body became severely emaciated. Due to eating so little, my major and minor limbs became like the joints of an eighty-year-old or a dying man, my bottom became like a camel’s hoof, my vertebrae stuck out like beads on a string, and my ribs were as gaunt as the broken-down rafters on an old barn. Due to eating so little, the gleam of my eyes sank deep in their sockets, like the gleam of water sunk deep down a well. Due to eating so little, my scalp shriveled and withered like a green bitter-gourd in the wind and sun. Due to eating so little, the skin of my belly stuck to my backbone, so that when I tried to rub the skin of my belly I grabbed my backbone, and when I tried to rub my backbone I rubbed the skin of my belly. Due to eating so little, when I tried to urinate or defecate I fell face down right there. Due to eating so little, when I tried to relieve my body by rubbing my limbs with my hands, the hair, rotted at its roots, fell out.

Then some people saw me and said, ‘The ascetic Gotama is black.’ Some said, ‘He’s not black, he’s brown.’ Some said, ‘He’s neither black nor brown. The ascetic Gotama has dingy skin.’ That’s how far the pure, bright complexion of my skin had been ruined by taking so little food.

Then it occurred to me, ‘Whatever ascetics and brahmins have experienced painful, sharp, severe, acute feelings due to exertion—whether in the past, future, or present—this is as far as it goes, no-one has done more than this. But I have not achieved any superhuman distinction in knowledge and vision worthy of the noble ones by this severe, grueling work. Could there be another path to awakening?’

Then it occurred to me, ‘I recall sitting in the cool shade of a black plum tree while my father the Sakyan was off working. Quite secluded from sensual pleasures, secluded from unskillful qualities, I entered and remained in the first absorption, which has the rapture and bliss born of seclusion, while placing the mind and keeping it connected. Could that be the path to awakening?’ Stemming from that memory came the understanding: ‘<em>That</em> is the path to awakening!’

Then it occurred to me, ‘Why am I afraid of that pleasure, for it has nothing to do with sensual pleasures or unskillful qualities?’ Then it occurred to me, ‘I’m not afraid of that pleasure, for it has nothing to do with sensual pleasures or unskillful qualities.’

Then it occurred to me, ‘I can’t achieve that pleasure with a body so severely emaciated. Why don’t I eat some solid food, some rice and porridge?’ So I ate some solid food. Now at that time the group of five mendicants were attending on me, thinking, ‘The ascetic Gotama will tell us of any truth that he realizes.’ But when I ate some solid food, they left disappointed in me, saying, ‘The ascetic Gotama has become indulgent; he has strayed from the struggle and returned to indulgence.’

After eating solid food and gathering my strength, quite secluded from sensual pleasures, secluded from unskillful qualities, I entered and remained in the first absorption … second absorption … third absorption … fourth absorption. When my mind had immersed in samādhi like this—purified, bright, flawless, rid of corruptions, pliable, workable, steady, and imperturbable—I extended it toward recollection of past lives. I recollected many past lives. That is: one, two, three, four, five, ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, a hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand rebirths; many eons of the world contracting, many eons of the world expanding, many eons of the world contracting and expanding. And so I recollected my many kinds of past lives, with features and details. This was the first knowledge, which I achieved in the first watch of the night. Ignorance was banished and knowledge arose; darkness was banished and light arose, as happens for a meditator who is diligent, keen, and resolute.

When my mind had immersed in samādhi like this—purified, bright, flawless, rid of corruptions, pliable, workable, steady, and imperturbable—I extended it toward knowledge of the death and rebirth of sentient beings. With clairvoyance that is purified and superhuman, I saw sentient beings passing away and being reborn—inferior and superior, beautiful and ugly, in a good place or a bad place. I understood how sentient beings pass on according to their deeds.

This was the second knowledge, which I achieved in the middle watch of the night. Ignorance was banished and knowledge arose; darkness was banished and light arose, as happens for a meditator who is diligent, keen, and resolute.

When my mind had immersed in samādhi like this—purified, bright, flawless, rid of corruptions, pliable, workable, steady, and imperturbable—I extended it toward knowledge of the ending of defilements. I truly understood: ‘This is suffering’ … ‘This is the origin of suffering’ … ‘This is the cessation of suffering’ … ‘This is the practice that leads to the cessation of suffering.’ I truly understood: ‘These are defilements’ … ‘This is the origin of defilements’ … ‘This is the cessation of defilements’ … ‘This is the practice that leads to the cessation of defilements.’

Knowing and seeing like this, my mind was freed from the defilements of sensuality, desire to be reborn, and ignorance. When it was freed, I knew it was freed. I understood: ‘Rebirth is ended; the spiritual journey has been completed; what had to be done has been done; there is nothing further for this place.’

This was the third knowledge, which I achieved in the last watch of the night. Ignorance was banished and knowledge arose; darkness was banished and light arose, as happens for a meditator who is diligent, keen, and resolute.

Then it occurred to me, ‘This principle I have discovered is deep, hard to see, hard to understand, peaceful, sublime, beyond the scope of logic, subtle, comprehensible to the astute. But people like clinging, they love it and enjoy it. It’s hard for them to see this topic; that is, specific conditionality, dependent origination. It’s also hard for them to see this topic; that is, the stilling of all activities, the letting go of all attachments, the ending of craving, fading away, cessation, extinguishment. And if I were to teach this principle, others might not understand me, which would be wearying and troublesome for me.’ And then these verses, which were neither supernaturally inspired, nor learned before in the past, occurred to me: ‘I’ve struggled hard to realize this, there’s no need to reveal it now! Those mired in greed and hate can’t really understand this teaching. It goes against the stream, subtle, deep, obscure, and very fine. Those besotted by greed cannot see, for they’re cloaked in a mass of darkness.’ So, as I reflected like this, my mind inclined to remaining passive, not to teaching the Dhamma.

Then the divinity Sahampati, knowing my train of thought, thought, ‘Oh lord! The world will be lost, the world will perish! For the mind of the Realized One, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha, inclines to remaining passive, not to teaching the Dhamma.’ Then, as easily as a strong person would extend or contract their arm, the divinity Sahampati vanished from the realm of divinity and reappeared in front of me. He arranged his robe over one shoulder, raised his cupped palms toward me, and said, ‘Sir, let the Blessed One teach the Dhamma! Let the Holy One teach the Dhamma! There are beings with little dust in their eyes. They’re in decline because they haven’t heard the teaching. There will be those who understand the teaching!’ That is what the divinity Sahampati said. Then he went on to say: ‘Among the Magadhans there appeared in the past an impure teaching thought up by the stained. Fling open the door to freedom from death! Let them hear the teaching <j>the immaculate one discovered. Standing high on a rocky mountain, you can see the people all around. In just the same way, All-seer, so intelligent, having ascended the Temple of Truth, rid of sorrow, look upon the people swamped with sorrow, <j>overcome by rebirth and old age. Rise, hero! Victor in battle, caravan leader, wander the world free of debt. Let the Blessed One teach the Dhamma! There will be those who understand!’

Then, understanding the Divinity’s invitation, I surveyed the world with the eye of a Buddha, because of my compassion for sentient beings. And I saw sentient beings with little dust in their eyes, and some with much dust in their eyes; with keen faculties and with weak faculties, with good qualities and with bad qualities, easy to teach and hard to teach. And some of them lived seeing the danger in the fault to do with the next world, while others did not. It’s like a pool with blue water lilies, or pink or white lotuses. Some of them sprout and grow in the water without rising above it, thriving underwater. Some of them sprout and grow in the water reaching the water’s surface. And some of them sprout and grow in the water but rise up above the water and stand with no water clinging to them. In the same way, I saw sentient beings with little dust in their eyes, and some with much dust in their eyes. Then I replied in verse to the divinity Sahampati: ‘Flung open are the doors to freedom from death! Let those with ears to hear commit to faith. Thinking it would be troublesome, Divinity, <j>I did not teach the sophisticated, sublime Dhamma among mankind.’ Then the divinity Sahampati, knowing that his request for me to teach the Dhamma had been granted, bowed and respectfully circled me, keeping me on his right, before vanishing right there.

Then it occurred to me, ‘Who should I teach first of all? Who will quickly understand the teaching?’ Then it occurred to me, ‘That Āḷāra Kālāma is astute, competent, intelligent, and has long had little dust in his eyes. Why don’t I teach him first of all? He’ll quickly understand the teaching.’ But a deity came to me and said, ‘Sir, Āḷāra Kālāma passed away seven days ago.’ And knowledge and vision arose in me, ‘Āḷāra Kālāma passed away seven days ago.’ Then it occurred to me, ‘This is a great loss for Āḷāra Kālāma. If he had heard the teaching, he would have understood it quickly.’

Then it occurred to me, ‘Who should I teach first of all? Who will quickly understand the teaching?’ Then it occurred to me, ‘That Uddaka son of Rāma is astute, competent, intelligent, and has long had little dust in his eyes. Why don’t I teach him first of all? He’ll quickly understand the teaching.’ But a deity came to me and said, ‘Sir, Uddaka son of Rāma, passed away just last night.’ And knowledge and vision arose in me, ‘Uddaka son of Rāma, passed away just last night.’ Then it occurred to me, ‘This is a great loss for Uddaka. If he had heard the teaching, he would have understood it quickly.’

Then it occurred to me, ‘Who should I teach first of all? Who will quickly understand the teaching?’ Then it occurred to me, ‘The group of five mendicants were very helpful to me. They looked after me during my time of resolute striving. Why don’t I teach them first of all?’ Then it occurred to me, ‘Where are the group of five mendicants staying these days?’ With clairvoyance that is purified and superhuman I saw that the group of five mendicants were staying near Varanasi in the deer park at Isipatana.

So, when I had stayed in Uruvelā as long as I pleased, I set out for Varanasi. While I was traveling along the road between Gayā and Bodhgaya, the Ājīvaka ascetic Upaka saw me and said, ‘Reverend, your faculties are so very clear, and your complexion is pure and bright. In whose name have you gone forth, reverend? Who is your Teacher? Whose teaching do you believe in?’ I replied to Upaka in verse: ‘I am the vanquisher of all, the knower of all, unsullied in the midst of all things. I’ve given up all, freed in the ending of craving. Since I know for myself, whose follower should I be? I have no tutor. There is no one like me. In the world with its gods, I have no rival. For in this world, I am the perfected one; I am the supreme Teacher. I alone am fully awakened, cooled, quenched. I am going to the city of Kāsi to roll forth the Wheel of Dhamma. In this world that is so blind, I’ll beat the drum of freedom from death!’ ‘According to what you claim, reverend, you ought to be the Infinite Victor.’ ‘The victors are those who, like me, have reached the ending of defilements. I have conquered bad qualities, Upaka— that’s why I’m a victor.’ When I had spoken, Upaka said: ‘If you say so, reverend.’ Shaking his head, he took a wrong turn and left.

Traveling stage by stage, I arrived at Varanasi, and went to see the group of five mendicants in the deer park at Isipatana. The group of five mendicants saw me coming off in the distance and stopped each other, saying, ‘Here comes the ascetic Gotama. He’s so indulgent; he strayed from the struggle and returned to indulgence. We shouldn’t bow to him or rise for him or receive his bowl and robe. But we can set out a seat; he can sit if he likes.’ Yet as I drew closer, the group of five mendicants were unable to stop themselves per their own agreement. Some came out to greet me and receive my bowl and robe, some spread out a seat, while others set out water for washing my feet. But they still addressed me by name and as ‘reverend’.

So I said to them, ‘Mendicants, don’t address me by name and as “reverend”. The Realized One is Perfected, a fully awakened Buddha. Listen up, mendicants: I have achieved freedom from death! I shall instruct you, I will teach you the Dhamma. By practicing as instructed you will soon realize the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in this very life. You will live having achieved with your own insight the goal for which gentlemen rightly go forth from the lay life to homelessness.’ But they said to me, ‘Reverend Gotama, even by that conduct, that practice, that grueling work you did not achieve any superhuman distinction in knowledge and vision worthy of the noble ones. How could you have achieved such a state now that you’ve become indulgent, strayed from the struggle and fallen into indulgence?’ So I said to them, ‘The Realized One has not become indulgent, strayed from the struggle and fallen into indulgence. The Realized One is Perfected, a fully awakened Buddha. Listen up, mendicants: I have achieved freedom from death! I shall instruct you, I will teach you the Dhamma. By practicing as instructed you will soon realize the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in this very life. You will live having achieved with your own insight the goal for which gentlemen rightly go forth from the lay life to homelessness.’ But for a second time they said to me, ‘Reverend Gotama … you’ve fallen into indulgence.’ So for a second time I said to them, ‘The Realized One has not become indulgent …’ But for a third time they said to me, ‘Reverend Gotama … you’ve fallen into indulgence.’

So I said to them, ‘Mendicants, have you ever known me to speak like this before?’ ‘No, sir.’ ‘The Realized One is Perfected, a fully awakened Buddha. Listen up, mendicants: I have achieved freedom from death! I shall instruct you, I will teach you the Dhamma. By practicing as instructed you will soon realize the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in this very life. You will live having achieved with your own insight the goal for which gentlemen rightly go forth from the lay life to homelessness.’

I was able to persuade the group of five mendicants. Then sometimes I advised two mendicants, while the other three went for alms. Then those three would feed all six of us with what they brought back. Sometimes I advised three mendicants, while the other two went for alms. Then those two would feed all six of us with what they brought back.

As the group of five mendicants were being advised and instructed by me like this, they soon realized the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in this very life. They lived having achieved with their own insight the goal for which gentlemen rightly go forth from the lay life to homelessness.”

When he had spoken, Prince Bodhi said to the Buddha, “Sir, when a mendicant has the Realized One as trainer, how long would it take for them to realize the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in this very life?” “Well then, prince, I’ll ask you about this in return, and you can answer as you like. What do you think, prince? Are you skilled in the art of wielding a hooked goad while riding an elephant?” “Yes, sir.”

“What do you think, prince? Suppose a man were to come along thinking, ‘Prince Bodhi knows the art of wielding a hooked goad while riding an elephant. I’ll train in that art under him.’ If he’s faithless, he wouldn’t achieve what he could with faith. If he’s unhealthy, he wouldn’t achieve what he could with good health. If he’s devious or deceitful, he wouldn’t achieve what he could with honesty and integrity. If he’s lazy, he wouldn’t achieve what he could with energy. If he’s stupid, he wouldn’t achieve what he could with wisdom. What do you think, prince? Could that man still train under you in the art of wielding a hooked goad while riding an elephant?” “Sir, if he had even a single one of these factors he couldn’t train under me, let alone all five.”

“What do you think, prince? Suppose a man were to come along thinking, ‘Prince Bodhi knows the art of wielding a hooked goad while riding an elephant. I’ll train in that art under him.’ If he’s faithful, he’d achieve what he could with faith. If he’s healthy, he’d achieve what he could with good health. If he’s honest and has integrity, he’d achieve what he could with honesty and integrity. If he’s energetic, he’d achieve what he could with energy. If he’s wise, he’d achieve what he could with wisdom. What do you think, prince? Could that man still train under you in the art of wielding a hooked goad while riding an elephant?” “Sir, if he had even a single one of these factors he could train under me, let alone all five.”

“In the same way, prince, there are these five factors that support meditation. What five? It’s when a noble disciple has faith in the Realized One’s awakening: ‘That Blessed One is perfected, a fully awakened Buddha, accomplished in knowledge and conduct, holy, knower of the world, supreme guide for those fit for training, teacher of gods and humans, awakened, blessed.’ They are rarely ill or unwell. Their stomach digests well, being neither too hot nor too cold, but just right, and fit for meditation. They’re not devious or deceitful. They reveal themselves honestly to the Teacher or sensible spiritual companions. They live with energy roused up for giving up unskillful qualities and embracing skillful qualities. They’re strong, staunchly vigorous, not slacking off when it comes to developing skillful qualities. They’re wise. They have the wisdom of arising and passing away which is noble, penetrative, and leads to the complete ending of suffering. These are the five factors that support meditation.

When a mendicant with these five factors that support meditation has the Realized One as trainer, they could realize the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in seven years. Let alone seven years, they could realize the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in six years, or as little as one year. Let alone one year, when a mendicant with these five factors that support meditation has the Realized One as trainer, they could realize the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in seven months, or as little as one day. Let alone one day, when a mendicant with these five factors that support meditation has the Realized One as trainer, they could be instructed at dusk and achieve distinction at daybreak, or be instructed at daybreak and achieve distinction at dusk.”

When he had spoken, Prince Bodhi said to the Buddha, “Oh, the Buddha! Oh, the teaching! Oh, how well explained is the teaching! For someone could be instructed at dusk and achieve distinction at daybreak, or be instructed at daybreak and achieve distinction at dusk.”

When he said this, Sañjikāputta said to Prince Bodhi, “Though the worthy Bodhi speaks like this, you don’t go for refuge to the worthy Gotama, to the teaching, and to the mendicant Saṅgha.” “Don’t say that, dear Sañjikāputta, don’t say that! I have heard and learned this in the presence of my lady mother. This one time the Buddha was staying near Kosambī in Ghosita’s monastery. Then my pregnant lady mother went up to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and said to him, ‘Sir, the prince or princess in my womb goes for refuge to the Buddha, the teaching, and the mendicant Saṅgha. From this day forth, may the Buddha remember them as a lay follower who has gone for refuge for life.’ Another time the Buddha was staying here in the land of the Bhaggas at Crocodile’s Bellow, in the deer park at Bhesakaḷā’s Wood. Then my nursemaid, carrying me on her hip, went to the Buddha, bowed, stood to one side, and said to him, ‘Sir, this Prince Bodhi goes for refuge to the Buddha, to the teaching, and to the mendicant Saṅgha. From this day forth, may the Buddha remember him as a lay follower who has gone for refuge for life.’ Now for a third time I go for refuge to the Buddha, to the teaching, and to the mendicant Saṅgha. From this day forth, may the Buddha remember me as a lay follower who has gone for refuge for life.”

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery.

Now at that time in the realm of King Pasenadi of Kosala there was a bandit named Aṅgulimāla. He was violent, bloody-handed, a hardened killer, merciless to living beings. He laid waste to villages, towns, and countries. He was constantly murdering humans, and he wore their fingers as a necklace.

Then the Buddha robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, entered Sāvatthī for alms. Then, after the meal, on his return from almsround, he set his lodgings in order and, taking his bowl and robe, he walked down the road that led to Aṅgulimāla. The cowherds, shepherds, farmers, and travelers saw him on the road, and said to him, “Don’t take this road, ascetic. On this road there is a bandit named Aṅgulimāla. He is violent, bloody-handed, a hardened killer, merciless to living beings. He has laid waste to villages, towns, and countries. He is constantly murdering humans, and he wears their fingers as a necklace. People travel along this road only after banding closely together in groups of ten, twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty. Still they meet their end by Aṅgulimāla’s hand.” But when they said this, the Buddha went on in silence. For a second time … and a third time, they urged the Buddha to turn back.

But when they said this, the Buddha went on in silence. The bandit Aṅgulimāla saw the Buddha coming off in the distance, and thought, “Oh lord, how incredible, how amazing! People travel along this road only after banding closely together in groups of ten, twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty. Still they meet their end by my hand. But still this ascetic comes along alone and unaccompanied, like a conqueror. Why don’t I take his life?”

Then Aṅgulimāla donned his sword and shield, fastened his bow and arrows, and followed behind the Buddha. But the Buddha used his psychic power to will that Aṅgulimāla could not catch up with him no matter how hard he tried, even though the Buddha kept walking at a normal speed. Then Aṅgulimāla thought, “Oh lord, how incredible, how amazing! Previously, even when I’ve chased a speeding elephant, horse, chariot or deer, I’ve always caught up with them. But I can’t catch up with this ascetic no matter how hard I try, even though he’s walking at a normal speed.” He stood still and said, “Stop, stop, ascetic!” “I’ve stopped, Aṅgulimāla—now you stop.” Then Aṅgulimāla thought, “These ascetics who follow the Sakyan speak the truth. Yet while walking the ascetic says: ‘I’ve stopped, Aṅgulimāla—now you stop.’ Why don’t I ask him about this?”

Then he addressed the Buddha in verse: “While walking, ascetic, you say ‘I’ve stopped.’ And I have stopped, but you tell me I’ve not. I’m asking you this, ascetic: how is it you’ve stopped and I have not?” “Aṅgulimāla, I have forever stopped— I’ve laid aside violence toward all creatures. But you can’t stop yourself <j>from harming living creatures; that’s why I’ve stopped, but you have not.” “Oh, at long last a renowned great seer, an ascetic has followed me into this deep wood. Now that I’ve heard your verse on Dhamma, I shall live without evil.” With these words, <j>the bandit hurled his sword and weapons down a cliff into an abyss. He venerated the Holy One’s feet, and requested the going forth right away. Then the Buddha, the compassionate great seer, the Teacher of the world with its gods, said to him, “Come, monk!” And with that he became a monk.

Then the Buddha set out for Sāvatthī with Venerable Aṅgulimāla as his second monk. Traveling stage by stage, he arrived at Sāvatthī, where he stayed in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery.

Now at that time a crowd had gathered by the gate of King Pasenadi’s royal compound making a colossal racket, “In your realm, Your Majesty, there is a bandit named Aṅgulimāla. He is violent, bloody-handed, a hardened killer, merciless to living beings. He has laid waste to villages, towns, and countries. He is constantly murdering humans, and he wears their fingers as a necklace. Your Majesty must put a stop to him!”

Then King Pasenadi drove out from Sāvatthī in the middle of the day with around five hundred horses, heading for the monastery. He went by carriage as far as the terrain allowed, then descended and approached the Buddha on foot. He bowed and sat down to one side. The Buddha said to him, “What is it, Great King? Is King Seniya Bimbisāra of Magadha angry with you, or the Licchavis of Vesālī, or some other opposing ruler?”

“No, sir. In my realm there is a bandit named Aṅgulimāla. He is violent, bloody-handed, a hardened killer, merciless to living beings. … I shall put a stop to him.”

“But, Great King, suppose you were to see that Aṅgulimāla had shaved off his hair and beard, dressed in ocher robes, and gone forth from the lay life to homelessness. And that he was refraining from killing living creatures, stealing, and lying; that he was eating in one part of the day, and was chaste, ethical, and of good character. What would you do to him?” “I would bow to him, rise in his presence, or offer him a seat. I’d invite him to accept robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick. And I’d organize his lawful guarding and protection. But sir, how could such an immoral, evil man ever have such virtue and restraint?”

Now at that time Venerable Aṅgulimāla was sitting not far from the Buddha. Then the Buddha pointed with his right arm and said to the king, “Great king, this is Aṅgulimāla.” Then the king became frightened, scared, his hair standing on end. Knowing this, the Buddha said to him, “Do not fear, Great King. You have nothing to fear from him.” Then the king’s fear died down. Then the king went over to Aṅgulimāla and said, “Sir, is the master really Aṅgulimāla?” “Yes, Great King.” “What clans were your father and mother from?” “My father was a Gagga, and my mother a Mantāṇī.” “Sir, may Master Gagga son of Mantāṇī be happy. I’ll make sure that you’re provided with robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick.”

But at that time Venerable Aṅgulimāla lived in the wilderness, ate only almsfood, and owned just three robes. So he said to the king, “Enough, Great King. My robes are complete.” Then the king went back to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and said to him, “It’s incredible, sir, it’s amazing! How the Buddha tames those who are wild, pacifies those who are violent, and extinguishes those who are unquenched! For I was not able to tame him with the rod and the sword, but the Buddha tamed him without rod or sword. Well, now, sir, I must go. I have many duties, and much to do.” “Please, Great King, go at your convenience.” Then King Pasenadi rose from his seat, bowed, and respectfully circled the Buddha, keeping him on his right, before leaving.

Then Venerable Aṅgulimāla robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, entered Sāvatthī for alms. Then as he was wandering indiscriminately for almsfood he saw a woman undergoing a distressing obstructed labor. Seeing this, it occurred to him, “Oh, beings undergo such travail! Oh, beings undergo such travail!” Then after wandering for alms in Sāvatthī, after the meal, on his return from almsround, he went to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and told him what had happened. The Buddha said to him,

“Well then, Aṅgulimāla, go to that woman and say this: ‘Ever since I was born, sister, I don’t recall having intentionally taken the life of a living creature. By this truth, may both you and your baby be safe.’” “But sir, wouldn’t that be telling a deliberate lie? For I have intentionally killed many living creatures.” “In that case, Aṅgulimāla, go to that woman and say this: ‘Ever since I was born in the noble birth, sister, I don’t recall having intentionally taken the life of a living creature. By this truth, may both you and your baby be safe.’” “Yes, sir,” replied Aṅgulimāla. He went to that woman and said: “Ever since I was born in the noble birth, sister, I don’t recall having intentionally taken the life of a living creature. By this truth, may both you and your baby be safe.” Then that woman was safe, and so was her baby.

Then Aṅgulimāla, living alone, withdrawn, diligent, keen, and resolute, soon realized the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in this very life. He lived having achieved with his own insight the goal for which gentlemen rightly go forth from the lay life to homelessness. He understood: “Rebirth is ended; the spiritual journey has been completed; what had to be done has been done; there is nothing further for this place.” And Venerable Aṅgulimāla became one of the perfected.

Then Venerable Aṅgulimāla robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, entered Sāvatthī for alms. Now at that time someone threw a stone that hit Aṅgulimāla, someone else threw a stick, and someone else threw gravel. Then Aṅgulimāla—with cracked head, bleeding, his bowl broken, and his outer robe torn—went to the Buddha. The Buddha saw him coming off in the distance, and said to him, “Endure it, brahmin! Endure it, brahmin! You’re experiencing in this very life the result of deeds that might have caused you to be tormented in hell for many years, many hundreds or thousands of years.”

Later, Venerable Aṅgulimāla was experiencing the bliss of release while in private retreat. On that occasion he expressed this heartfelt sentiment: “He who once was heedless, but turned to heedfulness, shines upon this world, like the moon freed from clouds. Someone whose bad deed is supplanted by the good, shines upon this world, like the moon freed from clouds. A young mendicant devoted to the Buddha’s teaching, shines upon this world, like the moon freed from clouds. May even my enemies <j>hear a Dhamma talk! May even my enemies <j>devote themselves to the Buddha’s teaching! May even my enemies associate with those good men who establish others in the Dhamma! May even my enemies <j>hear Dhamma at the right time, from those who teach acceptance, praising acquiescence; and may they follow that path! For then they’d never wish harm upon myself or others. Having arrived at ultimate peace, they’d look after creatures firm and frail. For while irrigators guide water, fletchers bend arrows straight, and carpenters bend timber straight, the astute tame themselves. Some tame by using the rod, some with goads, and some with whips. But the unaffected one tamed me without rod or sword. My name is ‘Harmless’, though I used to be harmful. The name I bear today is true, for I do no harm to anyone. I used to be a bandit, the notorious Aṅgulimāla. Swept away in a great flood, I went to the Buddha as a refuge. I used to have blood on my hands, the notorious Aṅgulimāla. See the refuge I’ve found— the leash to existence is eradicated. I’ve done many of the sort of deeds that lead to a bad destination. The result of my deeds has already struck me, so I enjoy my food free of debt. Fools and simpletons devote themselves to negligence. But the wise protect diligence as their best treasure. Don’t devote yourself to negligence, or delight in erotic intimacy. For if you’re diligent and practice absorption, you’ll attain abundant happiness. It was welcome, not unwelcome, the advice I got was good. Of the well-explained teachings, I arrived at the best. It was welcome, not unwelcome, the advice I got was good. I’ve attained the three knowledges and fulfilled the Buddha’s instructions.”

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery.

Now at that time a certain householder’s dear and beloved only child passed away. After their death he didn’t feel like working or eating. He would go to the cremation ground and wail, “Where are you, my only child? Where are you, my only child?”

Then he went to the Buddha, bowed, and sat down to one side. The Buddha said to him, “Your faculties, householder, are those of one who is unstable in their own mind; there is a deterioration in your faculties.” “And how, sir, could there be no deterioration of my faculties? For my dear and beloved only child has passed away. Since their death I haven’t felt like working or eating. I go to the cremation ground and wail: ‘Where are you, my only child? Where are you, my only child?’” “That’s so true, householder! That’s so true, householder! For our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress.” “Sir, who on earth could ever think such a thing! For our loved ones are a source of joy and happiness.” Disagreeing with the Buddha’s statement, rejecting it, he rose from his seat and left.

Now at that time several gamblers were playing dice not far from the Buddha. That householder approached them and told them what had happened. “That’s so true, householder! That’s so true, householder! For our loved ones are a source of joy and happiness.” Thinking, “The gamblers and I are in agreement,” the householder left.

Eventually that topic of discussion reached the royal compound. Then King Pasenadi addressed Queen Mallikā, “Mallikā, your ascetic Gotama said this: ‘Our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress.’” “If that’s what the Buddha said, Great King, then that’s how it is.” “No matter what the ascetic Gotama says, Mallikā agrees with him: ‘If that’s what the Buddha said, Great King, then that’s how it is.’ You’re just like a pupil who agrees with everything their tutor says. Go away, Mallikā, get out of here!”

Then Queen Mallikā addressed the brahmin Nāḷijaṅgha, “Please, brahmin, go to the Buddha, and in my name bow with your head to his feet. Ask him if he is healthy and well, nimble, strong, and living comfortably. And then say: ‘Sir, did the Buddha make this statement: “Our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress”?’ Remember well how the Buddha answers and tell it to me. For Realized Ones say nothing that is not so.” “Yes, ma’am,” he replied. He went to the Buddha and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he sat down to one side and said to the Buddha, “Worthy Gotama, Queen Mallikā bows with her head to your feet. She asks if you are healthy and well, nimble, strong, and living comfortably. And she asks whether the Buddha made this statement: ‘Our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress.’”

“That’s right, brahmin, that’s right! For our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress.

And here’s a way to understand how our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress. Once upon a time right here in Sāvatthī a certain woman’s mother passed away. And because of that she went mad and lost her mind. She went from street to street and from square to square saying, ‘Has anyone seen my mother? Has anyone seen my mother?’

And here’s another way to understand how our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress. Once upon a time right here in Sāvatthī a certain woman’s father … brother … sister … son … daughter … husband passed away. And because of that she went mad and lost her mind. She went from street to street and from square to square saying, ‘Has anyone seen my husband? Has anyone seen my husband?’

And here’s another way to understand how our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress. Once upon a time right here in Sāvatthī a certain man’s mother … father … brother … sister … son … daughter … wife passed away. And because of that he went mad and lost his mind. He went from street to street and from square to square saying, ‘Has anyone seen my wife? Has anyone seen my wife?’ And here’s another way to understand how our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress.

Once upon a time right here in Sāvatthī a certain woman went to live with her relative’s family. But her relatives wanted to divorce her from her husband and give her to another, who she didn’t want. So she told her husband about this. But he cut her in two and disemboweled himself, thinking, ‘We shall be together after death.’ That’s another way to understand how our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress.”

Then Nāḷijaṅgha the brahmin, having approved and agreed with what the Buddha said, rose from his seat, went to Queen Mallikā, and told her of all they had discussed. Then Queen Mallikā approached King Pasenadi and said to him,

“What do you think, Great King? Do you love Princess Vajirī?” “Indeed I do, Mallikā.” “What do you think, Great King? If she were to decay and perish, would sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress arise in you?” “If she were to decay and perish, my life would fall apart. How could sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress not arise in me?” “This is what the Buddha was referring to when he said: ‘Our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress.’

What do you think, Great King? Do you love Queen Vāsabhā? …

Do you love your son, General Viḍūḍabha? …

Do you love me?” “Indeed I do love you, Mallikā.” “What do you think, Great King? If I were to decay and perish, would sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress arise in you?” “If you were to decay and perish, my life would fall apart. How could sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress not arise in me?” “This is what the Buddha was referring to when he said: ‘Our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress.’

What do you think, Great King? Do you love the realms of Kāsi and Kosala?” “Indeed I do, Mallikā. It’s due to the bounty of Kāsi and Kosala that we use sandalwood imported from Kāsi and wear garlands, fragrance, and makeup.” “What do you think, Great King? If these realms were to decay and perish, would sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress arise in you?” “If they were to decay and perish, my life would fall apart. How could sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress not arise in me?” “This is what the Buddha was referring to when he said: ‘Our loved ones are a source of sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress.’”

“It’s incredible, Mallikā, it’s amazing, how far the Buddha sees with penetrating wisdom, it seems to me. Come, Mallikā, rinse my hands.” Then King Pasenadi rose from his seat, arranged his robe over one shoulder, raised his cupped palms toward the Buddha, and expressed this heartfelt sentiment three times: “Homage to him, the blessed one, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha! Homage to him, the blessed one, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha! Homage to him, the blessed one, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha!”

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery.

Then Venerable Ānanda robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, entered Sāvatthī for alms. He wandered for alms in Sāvatthī. After the meal, on his return from almsround, he went to the Eastern Monastery, the stilt longhouse of Migāra’s mother, for the day’s meditation.

Now at that time King Pasenadi of Kosala mounted the Single Lotus Elephant and drove out from Sāvatthī in the middle of the day. He saw Ānanda coming off in the distance and said to the chief minister Sirivaḍḍha, “My dear Sirivaḍḍha, isn’t that Venerable Ānanda?” “Indeed it is, Great King.”

Then King Pasenadi addressed a man, “Please, my man, go to Venerable Ānanda, and in my name bow with your head to his feet. Say to him, ‘Sir, King Pasenadi of Kosala bows with his head at your feet.’ And then say, ‘Sir, if you have no urgent business, please wait a while out of sympathy.’”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” that man replied. He did as the king asked.

Ānanda consented with silence. Then King Pasenadi rode on the elephant as far as the terrain allowed, then descended and approached Ānanda on foot. He bowed, stood to one side, and said to Ānanda, “Sir, if you have no urgent business, it would be nice of you to go to the bank of the Aciravatī River out of sympathy.”

Ānanda consented with silence. He went to the river bank and sat at the root of a certain tree on a seat spread out. Then King Pasenadi rode on the elephant as far as the terrain allowed, then descended and approached Ānanda on foot. He bowed, stood to one side, and said to Ānanda, “Here, Venerable Ānanda, sit on this elephant rug.” “Enough, Great King, you sit on it. I’m sitting on my own seat.”

So the king sat down on the seat spread out, and said, “Honorable Ānanda, would the Buddha engage in the sort of behavior—by way of body, speech, or mind—that is faulted by ascetics and brahmins?” “No, Great King, the Buddha would not engage in the sort of behavior that is faulted by sensible ascetics and brahmins.”

“It’s incredible, sir, it’s amazing! For I couldn’t fully express the question, but Venerable Ānanda’s answer completed it for me. I don’t believe that praise or criticism of others spoken by incompetent fools, without examining or scrutinizing, is the most important thing. Rather, I believe that praise or criticism of others spoken by competent and intelligent people after examining and scrutinizing is the most important thing.

But Honorable Ānanda, what kind of bodily behavior is faulted by sensible ascetics and brahmins?” “Unskillful behavior.” “But what kind of bodily behavior is unskillful?” “Blameworthy behavior.” “But what kind of bodily behavior is blameworthy?” “Hurtful behavior.” “But what kind of bodily behavior is hurtful?” “Behavior that results in suffering.” “But what kind of bodily behavior results in suffering?” “Bodily behavior that leads to hurting yourself, hurting others, and hurting both, and which makes unskillful qualities grow while skillful qualities decline. That kind of bodily behavior is faulted by sensible ascetics and brahmins.”

“But what kind of verbal behavior … mental behavior is faulted by sensible ascetics and brahmins?” …

“Mental behavior that leads to hurting yourself, hurting others, and hurting both, and which makes unskillful qualities grow while skillful qualities decline. That kind of mental behavior is faulted by sensible ascetics and brahmins.”

“Sir, does the Buddha praise giving up all these unskillful things?” “Great king, the Realized One has given up all unskillful things and possesses skillful things.”

“But sir, what kind of bodily behavior is not faulted by sensible ascetics and brahmins?” “Skillful behavior.” “But what kind of bodily behavior is skillful?” “Blameless behavior.” “But what kind of bodily behavior is blameless?” “Pleasing behavior.” “But what kind of bodily behavior is pleasing?” “Behavior that results in happiness.” “But what kind of bodily behavior results in happiness?” “Bodily behavior that leads to pleasing yourself, pleasing others, and pleasing both, and which makes unskillful qualities decline while skillful qualities grow. That kind of bodily behavior is not faulted by sensible ascetics and brahmins.”

“But what kind of verbal behavior … mental behavior is not faulted by sensible ascetics and brahmins?” …

“Mental behavior that leads to pleasing yourself, pleasing others, and pleasing both, and which makes unskillful qualities decline while skillful qualities grow. That kind of mental behavior is not faulted by sensible ascetics and brahmins.”

“Sir, does the Buddha praise embracing all these skillful things?” “Great king, the Realized One has given up all unskillful things and possesses skillful things.”