Majjhima Nikāya (Middle-Length Discourses)

They’re not angry and upset with their spiritual companions, not resentful or closed off. This being so, their mind inclines toward keenness, commitment, persistence, and striving. This is the fifth kind of hard-heartedness they’ve given up. These are the five kinds of hard-heartedness they’ve given up.

What are the five shackles of the heart they’ve severed? Firstly, a mendicant is rid of greed, desire, fondness, thirst, passion, and craving for sensual pleasures. This being so, their mind inclines toward keenness, commitment, persistence, and striving. This is the first shackle of the heart they’ve severed.

Furthermore, a mendicant is rid of greed for the body …

They’re rid of greed for form …

They don’t eat as much as they like until their belly is full, then indulge in the pleasures of sleeping, lying down, and drowsing …

They don’t lead the spiritual life hoping to be reborn in one of the orders of gods, thinking: ‘By this precept or observance or fervent austerity or spiritual practice, may I become one of the gods!’ This being so, their mind inclines toward keenness, commitment, persistence, and striving. This is the fifth shackle of the heart they’ve severed. These are the five shackles of the heart they’ve severed.

When a mendicant has given up these five kinds of hard-heartedness and severed these five shackles of the heart, it is possible for them to achieve growth, improvement, or maturity in this teaching and training.

They develop the basis of psychic power that has immersion due to enthusiasm, and active effort … the basis of psychic power that has immersion due to energy, and active effort … the basis of psychic power that has immersion due to mental development, and active effort … the basis of psychic power that has immersion due to inquiry, and active effort. And the fifth is sheer vigor.

A mendicant who possesses these fifteen factors, including vigor, is capable of breaking out, becoming awakened, and reaching the supreme sanctuary from the yoke. Suppose there was a chicken with eight or ten or twelve eggs. And she properly sat on them to keep them warm and incubated. Even if that chicken doesn’t wish: ‘If only my chicks could break out of the eggshell with their claws and beak and hatch safely!’ Still they can break out and hatch safely. In the same way, a mendicant who possesses these fifteen factors, including vigor, is capable of breaking out, becoming awakened, and reaching the supreme sanctuary from the yoke.” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, the mendicants approved what the Buddha said.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. There the Buddha addressed the mendicants, “Mendicants!” “Venerable sir,” they replied. The Buddha said this:

“Mendicants, I will teach you an exposition about jungle thickets. Listen and apply your mind well, I will speak.” “Yes, sir,” they replied. The Buddha said this:

“Mendicants, take the case of a mendicant who lives close by a jungle thicket. As they do so, their mindfulness does not become established, their mind does not become immersed in samādhi, their defilements do not come to an end, and they do not arrive at the supreme sanctuary from the yoke. And the necessities of life that a renunciate requires—robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick—are hard to come by. That mendicant should reflect: ‘While living close by this jungle thicket, my mindfulness does not become established, my mind does not become immersed in samādhi, my defilements do not come to an end, and I do not arrive at the supreme sanctuary from the yoke. And the necessities of life that a renunciate requires—robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick—are hard to come by.’ That mendicant should leave that jungle thicket that very time of night or day; they should not stay there.

Take another case of a mendicant who lives close by a jungle thicket. Their mindfulness does not become established … But the necessities of life are easy to come by. That mendicant should reflect: ‘While living close by this jungle thicket, my mindfulness does not become established … But the necessities of life are easy to come by. But I didn’t go forth from the lay life to homelessness for the sake of a robe, almsfood, lodgings, or medicines and supplies for the sick. Moreover, while living close by this jungle thicket, my mindfulness does not become established …’ That mendicant should, after appraisal, leave that jungle thicket; they should not stay there.

Take another case of a mendicant who lives close by a jungle thicket. As they do so, their mindfulness becomes established, their mind becomes immersed in samādhi, their defilements come to an end, and they arrive at the supreme sanctuary from the yoke. But the necessities of life that a renunciate requires—robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick—are hard to come by. That mendicant should reflect: ‘While living close by this jungle thicket, my mindfulness becomes established … But the necessities of life are hard to come by. But I didn’t go forth from the lay life to homelessness for the sake of a robe, almsfood, lodgings, or medicines and supplies for the sick. Moreover, while living close by this jungle thicket, my mindfulness becomes established …’ That mendicant should, after appraisal, stay in that jungle thicket; they should not leave.

Take another case of a mendicant who lives close by a jungle thicket. Their mindfulness becomes established … And the necessities of life are easy to come by. That mendicant should reflect: ‘While living close by this jungle thicket, my mindfulness becomes established … And the necessities of life are easy to come by.’ That mendicant should stay in that jungle thicket for the rest of their life; they should not leave.

Take the case of a mendicant who lives supported by a village …

town …

city …

country …

an individual. As they do so, their mindfulness does not become established, their mind does not become immersed in samādhi, their defilements do not come to an end, and they do not arrive at the supreme sanctuary from the yoke. And the necessities of life that a renunciate requires—robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick—are hard to come by. That mendicant should reflect: ‘… my mindfulness does not become established … And the necessities of life are hard to come by.’ That mendicant should leave that individual at any time of the day or night, without taking leave; they should not follow them. …

Take another case of a mendicant who lives supported by an individual. Their mindfulness does not become established … But the necessities of life are easy to come by. That mendicant should reflect: ‘… my mindfulness does not become established … But the necessities of life are easy to come by.’ … That mendicant should, after appraisal, leave that individual having taken leave; they should not follow them. …

Take another case of a mendicant who lives supported by an individual. Their mindfulness becomes established … But the necessities of life are hard to come by. That mendicant should reflect: ‘… my mindfulness becomes established … But the necessities of life are hard to come by.’ … That mendicant should, after appraisal, follow that individual; they should not leave.

Take another case of a mendicant who lives supported by an individual. As they do so, their mindfulness becomes established, their mind becomes immersed in samādhi, their defilements come to an end, and they arrive at the supreme sanctuary from the yoke. And the necessities of life that a renunciate requires—robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick—are easy to come by. That mendicant should reflect: ‘While living supported by this individual, my mindfulness becomes established … And the necessities of life are easy to come by.’ That mendicant should follow that individual for the rest of their life; they should not leave them, even if driven away.” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, the mendicants approved what the Buddha said.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying in the land of the Sakyans, near Kapilavatthu in the Banyan Tree Monastery.

Then the Buddha robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, entered Kapilavatthu for alms. He wandered for alms in Kapilavatthu. After the meal, on his return from almsround, he went to the Great Wood for the day’s meditation, plunged deep into it, and sat at the root of a young wood-apple tree to meditate.

Daṇḍapāṇi the Sakyan, while going for a walk, plunged deep into the Great Wood. He approached the Buddha and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he stood to one side leaning on his staff, and said to the Buddha, “What is the ascetic’s doctrine? What does he assert?”

“Respectable sir, my doctrine is such that one does not argue with anyone in this world with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, its gods and humans. And it is such that perceptions do not underlie the brahmin who lives detached from sensual pleasures, without indecision, stripped of worry, and rid of craving for rebirth in this or that state. That is my doctrine, and that is what I assert.”

When he had spoken, Daṇḍapāṇi shook his head, waggled his tongue, raised his eyebrows until his brow puckered in three furrows, and left leaning on his staff.

Then in the late afternoon, the Buddha came out of retreat and went to the Banyan Tree Monastery, sat down on the seat spread out, and told the mendicants what had happened. When he had spoken, one of the mendicants said to him,

“But sir, asserting what doctrine does the Buddha not argue with anyone in this world with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, its gods and humans? And how is it that perceptions do not underlie the Buddha, the brahmin who lives detached from sensual pleasures, without indecision, stripped of worry, and rid of craving for rebirth in this or that state?”

“Mendicant, judgments driven by proliferating perceptions beset a person. If they don’t find anything worth approving, welcoming, or getting attached to in the source from which these arise, just this is the end of the underlying tendencies to desire, aversion, views, doubt, conceit, the desire for continued existence, and ignorance. This is the end of taking up the rod and the sword, the end of quarrels, arguments, and disputes, of accusations, backbiting, and lies. This is where these bad, unskillful qualities cease without remainder.”

That is what the Buddha said. When he had spoken, the Holy One rose from his seat and entered his dwelling.

Soon after the Buddha left, those mendicants considered, “The Buddha gave this brief summary recital, then entered his dwelling without explaining the meaning in detail. Who can explain in detail the meaning of this brief summary recital given by the Buddha?” Then those mendicants thought, “This Venerable Mahākaccāna is praised by the Buddha and esteemed by his sensible spiritual companions. He is capable of explaining in detail the meaning of this brief summary recital given by the Buddha. Let’s go to him, and ask him about this matter.”

Then those mendicants went to Mahākaccāna, and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, they sat down to one side. They told him what had happened, and said: “May Venerable Mahākaccāna please explain this.”

“Reverends, suppose there was a person in need of heartwood. And while wandering in search of heartwood he’d come across a large tree standing with heartwood. But he’d pass over the roots and trunk, imagining that the heartwood should be sought in the branches and leaves. Such is the consequence for the venerables. Though you were face to face with the Buddha, you bypassed him, imagining that you should ask me about this matter. For he is the Buddha, the one who knows and sees. He is vision, he is knowledge, he is the manifestation of principle, he is the manifestation of divinity. He is the preacher, the proclaimer, the elucidator of meaning, the bestower of freedom from death, the lord of truth, the Realized One. That was the time to approach the Buddha and ask about this matter. You should have remembered it in line with the Buddha’s answer.”

“Certainly he is the Buddha, the one who knows and sees. He is vision, he is knowledge, he is the manifestation of principle, he is the manifestation of divinity. He is the preacher, the proclaimer, the elucidator of meaning, the bestower of freedom from death, the lord of truth, the Realized One. That was the time to approach the Buddha and ask about this matter. We should have remembered it in line with the Buddha’s answer. Still, Mahākaccāna is praised by the Buddha and esteemed by his sensible spiritual companions. You are capable of explaining in detail the meaning of this brief summary recital given by the Buddha. Please explain this, if it’s no trouble.”

“Well then, reverends, listen and apply your mind well, I will speak.” “Yes, reverend,” they replied. Venerable Mahākaccāna said this:

“Reverends, the Buddha gave this brief summary recital, then entered his dwelling without explaining the meaning in detail: ‘Judgments driven by proliferating perceptions beset a person. If they don’t find anything worth approving, welcoming, or getting attached to in the source from which these arise, just this is the end of the underlying tendencies to desire, repulsion, views, doubt, conceit, the desire to be reborn, and ignorance. This is the end of taking up the rod and the sword, the end of quarrels, arguments, and disputes, of accusations, backbiting, and lies. This is where these bad, unskillful qualities cease without remainder.’ This is how I understand the detailed meaning of this summary recital.

Eye consciousness arises dependent on the eye and sights. The meeting of the three is contact. Contact is a requirement for feeling. What you feel, you perceive. What you perceive, you think about. What you think about, you proliferate. What you proliferate is the source from which judgments driven by proliferating perceptions beset a person. This occurs with respect to sights known by the eye in the past, future, and present. Ear consciousness arises dependent on the ear and sounds. … Nose consciousness arises dependent on the nose and smells. … Tongue consciousness arises dependent on the tongue and tastes. … Body consciousness arises dependent on the body and touches. … Mind consciousness arises dependent on the mind and ideas. The meeting of the three is contact. Contact is a requirement for feeling. What you feel, you perceive. What you perceive, you think about. What you think about, you proliferate. What you proliferate is the source from which judgments driven by proliferating perceptions beset a person. This occurs with respect to ideas known by the mind in the past, future, and present.

Where there is the eye, sights, and eye consciousness, it will be possible to discover evidence of contact. Where there is evidence of contact, it will be possible to discover evidence of feeling. Where there is evidence of feeling, it will be possible to discover evidence of perception. Where there is evidence of perception, it will be possible to discover evidence of thought. Where there is evidence of thought, it will be possible to discover evidence of being beset by judgments driven by proliferating perceptions. Where there is the ear … nose … tongue … body … mind, ideas, and mind consciousness, it will be possible to discover evidence of contact. Where there is evidence of contact, it will be possible to discover evidence of feeling. Where there is evidence of feeling, it will be possible to discover evidence of perception. Where there is evidence of perception, it will be possible to discover evidence of thinking. Where there is evidence of thinking, it will be possible to discover evidence of being beset by judgments driven by proliferating perceptions.

Where there is no eye, no sights, and no eye consciousness, it will not be possible to discover evidence of contact. Where there is no evidence of contact, it will not be possible to discover evidence of feeling. Where there is no evidence of feeling, it will not be possible to discover evidence of perception. Where there is no evidence of perception, it will not be possible to discover evidence of thinking. Where there is no evidence of thinking, it will not be possible to discover evidence of being beset by judgments driven by proliferating perceptions. Where there is no ear … no nose … no tongue … no body … no mind, no ideas, and no mind consciousness, it will not be possible to discover evidence of contact. Where there is no evidence of contact, it will not be possible to discover evidence of feeling. Where there is no evidence of feeling, it will not be possible to discover evidence of perception. Where there is no evidence of perception, it will not be possible to discover evidence of thinking. Where there is no evidence of thinking, it will not be possible to discover evidence of being beset by judgments driven by proliferating perceptions.

This is how I understand the detailed meaning of that brief summary recital given by the Buddha. If you wish, you may go to the Buddha and ask him about this. You should remember it in line with the Buddha’s answer.”

Then those mendicants, approving and agreeing with what Mahākaccāna said, rose from their seats and went to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and told him what had happened, adding: “Mahākaccāna clearly explained the meaning to us in this manner, with these words and phrases.”

“Mahākaccāna is astute, mendicants, he has great wisdom. If you came to me and asked this question, I would answer it in exactly the same way as Mahākaccāna. That is what it means, and that’s how you should remember it.”

When he said this, Venerable Ānanda said to the Buddha, “Sir, suppose a person who was weak with hunger was to obtain a honey-cake. Wherever they taste it, they would enjoy a sweet, delectable flavor. In the same way, wherever a sincere, proficient mendicant might examine with wisdom the meaning of this exposition of the teaching they would only gain joy and clarity. Sir, what is the name of this exposition of the teaching?” “Well then, Ānanda, you may remember this exposition of the teaching as ‘The Honey-Cake Discourse’.” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, Venerable Ānanda approved what the Buddha said.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. There the Buddha addressed the mendicants, “Mendicants!” “Venerable sir,” they replied. The Buddha said this:

“Mendicants, before my awakening—when I was still unawakened but intent on awakening—I thought: ‘Why don’t I meditate by continually dividing my thoughts into two classes?’ So I assigned sensual, malicious, and cruel thoughts to one class. And I assigned thoughts of renunciation, good will, and harmlessness to the second class.

Then, as I meditated—diligent, keen, and resolute—a sensual thought arose. I understood: ‘This sensual thought has arisen in me. It leads to hurting myself, hurting others, and hurting both. It blocks wisdom, it’s on the side of distress, and it doesn’t lead to extinguishment.’ When I reflected that it leads to hurting myself, it went away. When I reflected that it leads to hurting others, it went away. When I reflected that it leads to hurting both, it went away. When I reflected that it blocks wisdom, it’s on the side of distress, and it doesn’t lead to extinguishment, it went away. So I gave up, dispelled, and eliminated any sensual thoughts that arose.

Then, as I meditated—diligent, keen, and resolute—a malicious thought arose … a cruel thought arose. I understood: ‘This cruel thought has arisen in me. It leads to hurting myself, hurting others, and hurting both. It blocks wisdom, it’s on the side of distress, and it doesn’t lead to extinguishment.’ When I reflected that it leads to hurting myself … hurting others … hurting both, it went away. When I reflected that it blocks wisdom, it’s on the side of distress, and it doesn’t lead to extinguishment, it went away. So I gave up, dispelled, and eliminated any cruel thoughts that arose.

Whatever a mendicant frequently thinks about and considers becomes their heart’s inclination. If they often think about and consider sensual thoughts, they’ve given up the thought of renunciation to cultivate sensual thought. Their mind inclines to sensual thoughts. If they often think about and consider malicious thoughts … their mind inclines to malicious thoughts. If they often think about and consider cruel thoughts … their mind inclines to cruel thoughts.

Suppose it’s the last month of the rainy season, in autumn, when the crops grow closely together, and a cowherd must take care of the cattle. He’d tap and poke them with his staff on this side and that to keep them in check. Why is that? For he sees that if they wander into the crops he could be executed, imprisoned, fined, or condemned. In the same way, I saw that unskillful qualities have the drawbacks of sordidness and corruption, and that skillful qualities have the benefit and cleansing power of renunciation.

Then, as I meditated—diligent, keen, and resolute—a thought of renunciation arose. I understood: ‘This thought of renunciation has arisen in me. It doesn’t lead to hurting myself, hurting others, or hurting both. It nourishes wisdom, it’s on the side of freedom from distress, and it leads to extinguishment.’ If I were to keep on thinking and considering this all night … all day … all night and day, I see no danger that would come from that. Still, thinking and considering for too long would tire my body. And when the body is tired, the mind is stressed. And when the mind is stressed, it’s far from immersion. So I stilled, settled, unified, and immersed my mind internally. Why is that? So that my mind would not be stressed.

Then, as I meditated—diligent, keen, and resolute—a thought of good will arose … a thought of harmlessness arose. I understood: ‘This thought of harmlessness has arisen in me. It doesn’t lead to hurting myself, hurting others, or hurting both. It nourishes wisdom, it’s on the side of freedom from distress, and it leads to extinguishment.’ If I were to keep on thinking and considering this all night … all day … all night and day, I see no danger that would come from that. Still, thinking and considering for too long would tire my body. And when the body is tired, the mind is stressed. And when the mind is stressed, it’s far from immersion. So I stilled, settled, unified, and immersed my mind internally. Why is that? So that my mind would not be stressed.

Whatever a mendicant frequently thinks about and considers becomes their heart’s inclination. If they often think about and consider thoughts of renunciation, they’ve given up sensual thought to cultivate the thought of renunciation. Their mind inclines to thoughts of renunciation. If they often think about and consider thoughts of good will … their mind inclines to thoughts of good will. If they often think about and consider thoughts of harmlessness … their mind inclines to thoughts of harmlessness.

Suppose it’s the last month of summer, when all the crops have been gathered within a village, and a cowherd must take care of the cattle. While at the root of a tree or in the open he need only be mindful that the cattle are there. In the same way I needed only to be mindful that those things were there.

My energy was roused up and unflagging, my mindfulness was established and lucid, my body was tranquil and undisturbed, and my mind was immersed and unified in samādhi.

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.

As the placing of the mind and keeping it connected were stilled, I entered and remained in the second absorption, which has the rapture and bliss born of immersion, with internal clarity and mind at one, without placing the mind and keeping it connected.

And with the fading away of rapture, I entered and remained in the third absorption, where I meditated with equanimity, mindful and aware, experiencing for themselves the bliss of which the noble ones declare, ‘Equanimous and mindful, one meditates in bliss.’

With the giving up of pleasure and pain, and the disappearance of former happiness and sadness, I entered and remained in the fourth absorption, without pleasure or pain, with pure equanimity and mindfulness.

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 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 become immersed in samādhi like this, 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 become immersed in samādhi like this, 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. 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.

Suppose that in a forested wilderness there was an expanse of low-lying marshes, and a large herd of deer lived nearby. Then along comes a person who wants to harm, injure, and threaten them. They close off the safe, secure path that leads to happiness, and open the wrong path. There they plant domesticated male and female deer as decoys so that, in due course, that herd of deer would fall to ruin and disaster. Then along comes a person who wants to help keep the herd of deer safe. They open up the safe, secure path that leads to happiness, and close off the wrong path. They get rid of the decoys so that, in due course, that herd of deer would grow, increase, and mature.

I’ve made up this simile to make a point. And this is what it means. ‘An expanse of low-lying marshes’ is a term for sensual pleasures. ‘A large herd of deer’ is a term for sentient beings. ‘A person who wants to harm, injure, and threaten them’ is a term for Māra the Wicked. ‘The wrong path’ is a term for the wrong eightfold path, that is, wrong view, wrong purpose, wrong speech, wrong action, wrong livelihood, wrong effort, wrong mindfulness, and wrong immersion. ‘A domesticated male deer’ is a term for greed and relishing. ‘A domesticated female deer’ is a term for ignorance. ‘A person who wants to help keep the herd of deer safe’ is a term for the Realized One, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha. ‘The safe, secure path that leads to happiness’ is a term for the noble eightfold path, that is: right view, right purpose, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right immersion. So, mendicants, I have opened up the safe, secure path to happiness and closed off the wrong path. And I have got rid of the male and female decoys.

Out of sympathy, I’ve done what a teacher should do who wants what’s best for their disciples. Here are these roots of trees, and here are these empty huts. Practice absorption, mendicants! Don’t be negligent! Don’t regret it later! This is my instruction to you.” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, the mendicants approved what the Buddha said.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. There the Buddha addressed the mendicants, “Mendicants!” “Venerable sir,” they replied. The Buddha said this:

“Mendicants, a mendicant committed to the higher mind should focus on five subjects from time to time. What five?

Take a mendicant who is focusing on some subject that gives rise to bad, unskillful thoughts connected with desire, hate, and delusion. That mendicant should focus on some other subject connected with the skillful. As they do so, those bad thoughts are given up and come to an end. Their mind becomes stilled internally; it settles, unifies, and becomes immersed in samādhi. It’s like a deft mason or their apprentice who’d knock out or extract a large peg with a finer peg. In the same way, a mendicant … should focus on some other basis of meditation connected with the skillful …

Now, suppose that mendicant is focusing on some other subject connected with the skillful, but bad, unskillful thoughts connected with desire, hate, and delusion keep coming up. They should examine the drawbacks of those thoughts: ‘So these thoughts are unskillful, they’re blameworthy, and they result in suffering.’ As they do so, those bad thoughts are given up and come to an end. Their mind becomes stilled internally; it settles, unifies, and becomes immersed in samādhi. Suppose there was a woman or man who was young, youthful, and fond of adornments. If the carcass of a snake or a dog or a human were hung around their neck, they’d be horrified, repelled, and disgusted. In the same way, a mendicant … should examine the drawbacks of those thoughts …

Now, suppose that mendicant is examining the drawbacks of those thoughts, but bad, unskillful thoughts connected with desire, hate, and delusion keep coming up. They should try to forget and ignore them. As they do so, those bad thoughts are given up and come to an end. Their mind becomes stilled internally; it settles, unifies, and becomes immersed in samādhi. Suppose there was a person with clear eyes, and some undesirable sights came into their range of vision. They’d just close their eyes or look away. In the same way, a mendicant … those bad thoughts are given up and come to an end …

Now, suppose that mendicant is ignoring and forgetting about those thoughts, but bad, unskillful thoughts connected with desire, hate, and delusion keep coming up. They should focus on stopping the formation of those thoughts. As they do so, those bad thoughts are given up and come to an end. Their mind becomes stilled internally; it settles, unifies, and becomes immersed in samādhi. Suppose there was a person walking quickly. They’d think: ‘Why am I walking so quickly? Why don’t I slow down?’ So they’d slow down. They’d think: ‘Why am I walking slowly? Why don’t I stand still?’ So they’d stand still. They’d think: ‘Why am I standing still? Why don’t I sit down?’ So they’d sit down. They’d think: ‘Why am I sitting? Why don’t I lie down?’ So they’d lie down. And so that person would shun successively coarser postures and adopt more subtle ones. In the same way, a mendicant … those thoughts are given up and come to an end …

Now, suppose that mendicant is focusing on stopping the formation of those thoughts, but bad, unskillful thoughts connected with desire, hate, and delusion keep coming up. With teeth clenched and tongue pressed against the roof of the mouth, they should squeeze, squash, and crush mind with mind. As they do so, those bad thoughts are given up and come to an end. Their mind becomes stilled internally; it settles, unifies, and becomes immersed in samādhi. It’s like a strong man who grabs a weaker man by the head or throat or shoulder and squeezes, squashes, and crushes them. In the same way, a mendicant … with teeth clenched and tongue pressed against the roof of the mouth, should squeeze, squash, and crush mind with mind. As they do so, those bad thoughts are given up and come to an end. Their mind becomes stilled internally; it settles, unifies, and becomes immersed in samādhi.

Now, take the mendicant who is focusing on some subject that gives rise to bad, unskillful thoughts connected with desire, hate, and delusion. They focus on some other subject connected with the skillful … They examine the drawbacks of those thoughts … They try to forget and ignore about those thoughts … They focus on stopping the formation of those thoughts … With teeth clenched and tongue pressed against the roof of the mouth, they squeeze, squash, and crush mind with mind. When they succeed in each of these things, those bad thoughts are given up and come to an end. Their mind becomes stilled internally; it settles, unifies, and becomes immersed in samādhi. This is called a mendicant who is a master of the ways of thought. They will think what they want to think, and they won’t think what they don’t want to think. They’ve cut off craving, cast off the fetters, and by rightly comprehending conceit have made an end of suffering.” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, the mendicants approved what the Buddha said.

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

Now at that time, Venerable Phagguna of the Top-Knot was spending too long mixing closely with some nuns. So much so that if any mendicant criticized those nuns in his presence, Phagguna of the Top-Knot got angry and upset, and even instigated disciplinary proceedings. And if any mendicant criticized Phagguna of the Top-Knot in their presence, those nuns got angry and upset, and even instigated disciplinary proceedings. That’s how close Phagguna of the Top-Knot was with those nuns.

Then a mendicant went up to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and told him what was going on.

So the Buddha addressed one of the monks, “Please, monk, in my name tell the mendicant Phagguna of the Top-Knot that the Teacher summons him.” “Yes, sir,” that monk replied. He went to Phagguna of the Top-Knot and said to him, “Reverend Phagguna, the Teacher summons you.” “Yes, reverend,” Phagguna replied. He went to the Buddha, bowed, and sat down to one side. The Buddha said to him:

“Is it really true, Phagguna, that you’ve been spending too long mixing closely with some nuns? So much so that if any mendicant criticizes those nuns in your presence, you get angry and upset, and even instigate disciplinary proceedings? And if any mendicant criticizes you in those nuns’ presence, they get angry and upset, and even instigate disciplinary proceedings? Is that how close you’ve become with those nuns?” “Yes, sir.” “Phagguna, are you not a gentleman who has gone forth out of faith from the lay life to homelessness?” “Yes, sir.”

“As such, it’s not appropriate for you to mix so closely with those nuns. So if anyone criticizes those nuns in your presence, you should give up any desires or thoughts of domestic life. If that happens, you should train like this: ‘My mind will not degenerate. I will blurt out no bad words. I will remain full of sympathy, with a heart of love and no secret hate.’ That’s how you should train. So even if someone strikes those nuns with fists, stones, rods, and swords in your presence, you should give up any desires or thoughts of domestic life. If that happens, you should train like this: ‘My mind will not degenerate. I will blurt out no bad words. I will remain full of sympathy, with a heart of love and no secret hate.’ That’s how you should train. So if anyone criticizes you in your presence, you should give up any desires or thoughts of domestic life. If that happens, you should train like this: ‘My mind will not degenerate. I will blurt out no bad words. I will remain full of sympathy, with a heart of love and no secret hate.’ That’s how you should train. So Phagguna, even if someone strikes you with fists, stones, rods, and swords, you should give up any desires or thoughts of domestic life. If that happens, you should train like this: ‘My mind will not degenerate. I will blurt out no bad words. I will remain full of sympathy, with a heart of love and no secret hate.’ That’s how you should train.”

Then the Buddha said to the mendicants: “Mendicants, I used to be satisfied with the mendicants. Once, I addressed them: ‘I eat my food in one sitting per day. Doing so, I find that I’m healthy and well, nimble, strong, and living comfortably. You too should eat your food in one sitting per day. Doing so, you’ll find that you’re healthy and well, nimble, strong, and living comfortably.’ I didn’t have to keep on instructing those mendicants; I just had to prompt their mindfulness. Suppose a chariot stood harnessed to thoroughbreds at a level crossroads, with a goad ready. A deft horse trainer, a master charioteer, might mount the chariot, taking the reins in his right hand and goad in the left. He’d drive out and back wherever he wishes, whenever he wishes. In the same way, I didn’t have to keep on instructing those mendicants; I just had to prompt their mindfulness. So, mendicants, you too should give up what’s unskillful and devote yourselves to skillful qualities. In this way you’ll achieve growth, improvement, and maturity in this teaching and training.

Suppose that not far from a town or village there was a large grove of sal trees that was choked with castor-oil weeds. Then along comes a person who wants to help protect and nurture that grove. They’d cut down the crooked sal saplings that were robbing the sap, and throw them out. They’d clean up the interior of the grove, and properly care for the straight, well-formed sal saplings. In this way, in due course, that sal grove would grow, increase, and mature. In the same way, mendicants, you too should give up what’s unskillful and devote yourselves to skillful qualities. In this way you’ll achieve growth, improvement, and maturity in this teaching and training.

Once upon a time, mendicants, right here in Sāvatthī there was a housewife named Vedehikā. She had this good reputation: ‘The housewife Vedehikā is gentle, placid, and calm.’ Now, Vedehikā had a bonded maid named Kāḷī who was deft, tireless, and well-organized in her work. Then Kāḷī thought, ‘My mistress has a good reputation as being gentle, placid, and calm. But does she actually have anger in her and just not show it? Or does she have no anger? Or is it just because my work is well-organized that she doesn’t show anger, even though she still has it inside? Why don’t I test my mistress?’ So Kāḷī got up during the day. Vedehikā said to her, ‘Oi wench, Kāḷī!’ ‘What is it, ma’am?’ ‘You’re getting up in the day—what’s up with you, wench?’ ‘Nothing, ma’am.’ ‘Oh, so nothing’s up, you naughty maid, but you get up in the day!’ Angry and upset, she scowled. Then Kāḷī thought, ‘My mistress actually has anger in her and just doesn’t show it; it’s not that she has no anger. It’s just because my work is well-organized that she doesn’t show anger, even though she still has it inside. Why don’t I test my mistress further?’ So Kāḷī got up later in the day. Vedehikā said to her, ‘Oi wench, Kāḷī!’ ‘What is it, ma’am?’ ‘You’re getting up later in the day—what’s up with you, wench?’ ‘Nothing, ma’am.’ ‘Oh, so nothing’s up, you naughty maid, but you get up later in the day!’ Angry and upset, she blurted out angry words. Then Kāḷī thought, ‘My mistress actually has anger in her and just doesn’t show it; it’s not that she has no anger. It’s just because my work is well-organized that she doesn’t show anger, even though she still has it inside. Why don’t I test my mistress further?’ So Kāḷī got up even later in the day. Vedehikā said to her, ‘Oi wench, Kāḷī!’ ‘What is it, ma’am?’ ‘You’re getting up even later in the day—what’s up with you, wench?’ ‘Nothing, ma’am.’ ‘Oh, so nothing’s up, you naughty maid, but you get up even later in the day!’ Angry and upset, she grabbed a door-pin and hit Kāḷī on the head, cracking it open. Then Kāḷī, with blood pouring from her cracked skull, denounced her mistress to the neighbors, ‘See, ladies, what the gentle one did! See what the placid one did! See what the calm one did! How on earth can she grab a door-pin and hit her only maid on the head, cracking it open, just for getting up late?’ Then after some time the housewife Vedehikā got this bad reputation: ‘The housewife Vedehikā is fierce, ill-tempered, and not calm at all.’

In the same way, a mendicant may be the gentlest of the gentle, the most placid of the placid, the calmest of the calm, so long as they don’t encounter any disagreeable criticism. But it’s when they encounter disagreeable criticism that you’ll know whether they’re really gentle, placid, and calm. I don’t say that a mendicant is easy to admonish if they make themselves easy to admonish only for the sake of robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick. Why is that? Because when they don’t get robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick, they’re no longer easy to admonish. But when a mendicant is easy to admonish purely because they honor, respect, revere, worship, and venerate the teaching, then I say that they’re easy to admonish. So, mendicants, you should train yourselves: ‘We will be easy to admonish purely because we honor, respect, revere, worship, and venerate the teaching.’ That’s how you should train.

Mendicants, there are these five ways in which others might criticize you. Their speech may be timely or untimely, true or false, gentle or harsh, beneficial or harmful, from a heart of love or from secret hate. When others criticize you, they may do so in any of these ways. If that happens, you should train like this: ‘Our minds will not degenerate. We will blurt out no bad words. We will remain full of sympathy, with a heart of love and no secret hate. We will meditate spreading a heart of love to that individual. And with them as a basis, we will meditate spreading a heart full of love to everyone in the world—abundant, expansive, limitless, free of enmity and ill will.’ That’s how you should train.

Suppose a person was to come along carrying a spade and basket and say, ‘I shall make this great earth be without earth!’ And they’d dig all over, scatter all over, spit all over, and urinate all over, saying, ‘Be without earth! Be without earth!’ What do you think, mendicants? Could that person make this great earth be without earth?” “No, sir. Why is that? Because this great earth is deep and limitless. It’s not easy to make it be without earth. That person will eventually get weary and frustrated.”

“In the same way, there are these five ways in which others might criticize you. Their speech may be timely or untimely, true or false, gentle or harsh, beneficial or harmful, from a heart of love or from secret hate. When others criticize you, they may do so in any of these ways. If that happens, you should train like this: ‘Our minds will not degenerate. We will blurt out no bad words. We will remain full of sympathy, with a heart of love and no secret hate. We will meditate spreading a heart of love to that individual. And with them as a basis, we will meditate spreading a heart like the earth to everyone in the world—abundant, expansive, limitless, free of enmity and ill will.’ That’s how you should train.

Suppose a person was to come along with dye such as red lac, turmeric, indigo, or rose madder, and say, ‘I shall draw pictures in space, making pictures appear there.’ What do you think, mendicants? Could that person draw pictures in space?” “No, sir. Why is that? Because space has no form or appearance. It’s not easy to draw pictures there. That person will eventually get weary and frustrated.”

“In the same way, if others criticize you in any of these five ways … you should train like this: ‘… We will meditate spreading a heart of love to that person. And with them as a basis, we will meditate spreading a heart like space to everyone in the world—abundant, expansive, limitless, free of enmity and ill will.’ That’s how you should train.

Suppose a person was to come along carrying a blazing grass torch, and say, ‘I shall burn and scorch the Ganges River with this blazing grass torch.’ What do you think, mendicants? Could that person burn and scorch the Ganges River with a blazing grass torch?” “No, sir. Why is that? Because the Ganges River is deep and limitless. It’s not easy to burn and scorch it with a blazing grass torch. That person will eventually get weary and frustrated.”

“In the same way, if others criticize you in any of these five ways … you should train like this: ‘… We will meditate spreading a heart of love to that individual. And with them as a basis, we will meditate spreading a heart like the Ganges to everyone in the world—abundant, expansive, limitless, free of enmity and ill will.’ That’s how you should train.

Suppose there was a catskin bag that was rubbed, well-rubbed, very well-rubbed, soft, silky, rid of rustling and crackling. Then a person comes along carrying a stick or a stone, and says, ‘I shall make this soft catskin bag rustle and crackle with this stick or stone.’ What do you think, mendicants? Could that person make that soft catskin bag rustle and crackle with that stick or stone?” “No, sir. Why is that? Because that catskin bag is rubbed, well-rubbed, very well-rubbed, soft, silky, rid of rustling and crackling. It’s not easy to make it rustle or crackle with a stick or stone. That person will eventually get weary and frustrated.”

“In the same way, there are these five ways in which others might criticize you. Their speech may be timely or untimely, true or false, gentle or harsh, beneficial or harmful, from a heart of love or from secret hate. When others criticize you, they may do so in any of these ways. If that happens, you should train like this: ‘Our minds will not degenerate. We will blurt out no bad words. We will remain full of sympathy, with a heart of love and no secret hate. We will meditate spreading a heart of love to that individual. And with them as a basis, we will meditate spreading a heart like a catskin bag to everyone in the world—abundant, expansive, limitless, free of enmity and ill will.’ That’s how you should train.

Even if low-down bandits were to sever you limb from limb with a two-handed saw, anyone who had a malevolent thought on that account would not be following my instructions. If that happens, you should train like this: ‘Our minds will not degenerate. We will blurt out no bad words. We will remain full of sympathy, with a heart of love and no secret hate. We will meditate spreading a heart of love to that individual. And with them as a basis, we will meditate spreading a heart full of love to everyone in the world—abundant, expansive, limitless, free of enmity and ill will.’ That’s how you should train.

If you frequently reflect on this advice on the simile of the saw, do you see any criticism, large or small, that you could not endure?” “No, sir.” “So, mendicants, you should frequently reflect on this advice on the simile of the saw. This will be for your lasting welfare and happiness.” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, the mendicants approved what the Buddha said.

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