Saṃyutta Nikāya (Linked Discourses)

“They’ve gone to Magadha, they’ve gone to Kosala, and some are in the Vajjian lands. Like deer that wander free of ties, the mendicants live with no abode.”

At one time Venerable Ānanda was staying in the land of the Kosalans in a certain forest grove. Now at that time Ānanda was spending too much time persuading lay people. Then the deity haunting that forest had sympathy for Ānanda, wanting what’s best for him. So they approached him wanting to stir him up, and recited these verses:

“You’ve left for the jungle, the root of a tree, having laid extinguishment in your heart. Meditate, Gotama, don’t be negligent! What use is this hullabaloo to you?”

Impelled by that deity, Venerable Ānanda was struck with a sense of urgency.

At one time Venerable Anuruddha was staying in the land of the Kosalans in a certain forest grove. Then a certain deity of the company of the thirty-three named Penelope had been Anuruddha’s partner in a former life. She went up to Anuruddha, and recited these verses:

“Set your heart there, where you used to live: among the gods of the thirty-three, whose every desire is granted! At the fore of a retinue of divine maidens, you’ll shine!”

“Divine maidens are in a sorry state, stuck in substantial reality. And those beings too are in a sorry state, who are attached to divine maidens.”

“They don’t know pleasure who don’t see the Garden of Delight! It’s the abode of lordly gods, the glorious host of Thirty!”

“Fool, don’t you understand the saying of the perfected ones: All conditions are impermanent, their nature is to rise and fall; having arisen, they cease; their settling is such bliss.

O Penelope, weaver of the web— there are no more abodes for me in the heavenly host. Transmigration through births is finished, now there’ll be no more future lives.”

At one time Venerable Nāgadatta was staying in the land of the Kosalans in a certain forest grove. Now at that time Venerable Nāgadatta had been entering the village too early and returning late in the day. Then the deity haunting that forest had sympathy for Nāgadatta, wanting what’s best for him. So they approached him wanting to stir him up, and recited these verses:

“Entering the village too early, and returning too late in the day, Nāgadatta mixes with lay people, sharing their joys and sorrows.

I’m afraid for Nāgadatta; he’s reckless, shackled to families. May he not come under the King of Death’s power, under the sway of the terminator!”

Impelled by that deity, Venerable Nāgadatta was struck with a sense of urgency.

At one time one of the monks was staying in the land of the Kosalans in a certain forest grove. Now at that time that monk had become too closely involved in the affairs of a certain family. The deity haunting that forest had sympathy for that monk, wanting what’s best for him. So, wanting to stir him up, they manifested in the appearance of the mistress of that family, approached the monk, and addressed him in verse:

“At river banks and guest houses, hotels and highways, people gather to gossip about what’s going on between you and me.”

“There are many sounds echoing that a fervent ascetic must endure. They ought not be dismayed by that, for that’s not what defiles you.

If you’re startled by every little sound, like a wind-deer in the wood, they’ll call you ‘flighty minded’; and your practice won’t succeed.”

At one time a certain Vajjian mendicant was staying near Vesālī in a certain forest grove. Now at that time the Vajjis were holding an all-night event in Vesālī. Then that mendicant, complaining at the noise of musical instruments being beaten and played, on that occasion spoke this verse:

“We dwell alone in the wilderness, like a log dumped in the forest. On a night like this, who’s worse off than me?”

The deity haunting that forest had sympathy for that mendicant, and wanted what’s best for them. So they approached that mendicant wanting to stir them up, and addressed them in verse:

“You dwell alone in the wilderness, like a log dumped in the forest. Lots of people are jealous of you, like beings in hell of those going to heaven.”

Impelled by that deity, that mendicant was struck with a sense of urgency.

At one time one of the mendicants was staying in the land of the Kosalans in a certain forest grove. Now at that time that mendicant had previously been spending too much time rehearsing. But some time later they adhered to passivity and silence. Not hearing the teaching, the deity haunting that forest approached that mendicant, and addressed them in verse:

“Mendicant, why don’t you recite <j>passages of the teaching, living together with other mendicants? Hearing the teaching, one garners confidence; and in this very life, one garners praise.”

“I used to be zealous for <j>passages of the teaching, until I encountered dispassion. When I encountered dispassion, whatever was seen, heard, and thought, this, good people say, is the laying down <j>by complete understanding.”

At one time one of the mendicants was staying in the land of the Kosalans in a certain forest grove. Now at that time that mendicant, during their day’s meditation, was thinking bad, unskillful thoughts, that is, sensual, malicious, and cruel thoughts. The deity haunting that forest had sympathy for that mendicant, and wanted what’s best for them. So they approached that mendicant wanting to stir them up, and addressed them in verse:

“Because of irrational application of mind, you’re consumed by your thoughts. When you’ve given up irrationality, make sure your thoughts are rational.

Thinking about the Teacher, the teaching, the Saṅgha, and your own ethics, you’ll find gladness, and rapture and bliss as well, no doubt. And when you’re full of joy, you’ll make an end to suffering.”

Impelled by that deity, that mendicant was struck with a sense of urgency.

At one time one of the mendicants was staying in the land of the Kosalans in a certain forest grove. The deity haunting that forest approached that mendicant and spoke this verse in their presence:

“In the still of high noon, when the birds have settled down, the mighty forest itself resounds— that strikes me as so scary!”

“In the still of high noon, when the birds have settled down, the mighty forest itself resounds— that strikes me as so delightful!”

At one time several mendicants were staying in the Kosalan lands in a certain forest grove. They were haughty, insolent, fickle, scurrilous, loose-tongued, unmindful, lacking situational awareness and immersion, with straying minds and undisciplined faculties. The deity haunting that forest had sympathy for those mendicants, and wanted what’s best for them. So they approached those mendicants wanting to stir them up, and addressed them in verse:

“The mendicants used to live happily, as disciples of Gotama. Desireless they sought alms; desireless they used their lodgings. Knowing that the world was impermanent they made an end of suffering.

But now they’ve made themselves hard to look after, like chiefs in a village. They eat and eat and then lie down, unconscious in the homes of others.

Having raised my cupped palms to the Saṅgha, I speak here only about certain people. They’re dregs, with no protector, just like those who have passed away.

I’m speaking about those who live negligently. To those who live diligently I pay homage.”

Impelled by that deity, those mendicants were struck with a sense of urgency.

At one time one of the mendicants was staying in the land of the Kosalans in a certain forest grove. Now at that time, after the meal, on their return from almsround, that mendicant plunged into a lotus pond and sniffed a pink lotus. The deity haunting that forest had sympathy for that mendicant, and wanted what’s best for them. So they approached that mendicant wanting to stir them up, and addressed them in verse:

“This water flower has not been given. When you sniff it, this is one factor of theft. Good fellow, you are a thief of scent!”

“I do not take, nor do I break; I sniff the water flower from afar. So how do you explain why you call me a thief of scent?

Why don’t you accuse someone who does such vandalizing as digging up the roots, or breaking off the flowers?”

“I have nothing to say to a person who is a crude vandal, soiled like a used nappy. You’re the one who deserves to be spoken to.

To the man who has not a blemish, who is always seeking purity, even a hair-tip of evil seems as big as a stormcloud.”

“Indeed, O spirit, you understand me, and you empathize with me. Please speak to me again, whenever you see something like this.”

“We are no dependent of yours, nor are we your servant. You yourself should know, mendicant, the way that leads to a good place.”

Impelled by that deity, that mendicant was struck with a sense of urgency.

The Linked Discourses in the Forest are complete.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Rājagaha on Mount Indra’s Peak, the haunt of the native spirit Indaka. Then the native spirit Indaka went up to the Buddha, and addressed him in verse:

“The Buddhas say that form is not the soul. Then how does this one obtain this body? From where do his bones and organs come? How does this one coalesce in the womb?”

“First there’s the zygote; then there’s the blastocyst; from there arises the gastrula; which produces the embryonic mass. From that the limb buds appear, the head hair, body hair, and nails.

And whatever the mother eats— the food and drink that she consumes— nourishes them there, the person in the mother’s womb.”

At one time the Buddha was staying near Rājagaha, on the Vulture’s Peak Mountain. Then a spirit who was Sakka in name only went up to the Buddha, and addressed him in verse:

“You’ve given up all ties, and are fully freed. It’s not a good idea for you, ascetic, to be instructing others.”

“No matter how you explain why people gather together, Sakka, it’s unworthy for a wise person not to think of the other with sympathy.

If you instruct others with a mind clear and confident, your compassion and empathy don’t create attachments.”

At one time the Buddha was staying near Gayā on the cut-stone ledge in the haunt of Spiky the native spirit. Now at that time the native spirits Shaggy and Spiky were passing by not far from the Buddha. So Shaggy said to Spiky, “That’s an ascetic.” “That’s no ascetic, he’s a faker! I’ll soon find out whether he’s an ascetic or a faker.”

Then Spiky went up to the Buddha and leaned up against his body, but the Buddha pulled away. Then Spiky said to the Buddha, “Are you afraid, ascetic?” “No, respectable sir, I’m not afraid. But your touch is nasty.” “I will ask you a question, ascetic. If you don’t answer me, I’ll drive you insane, or explode your heart, or grab you by the feet and throw you to the far shore of the Ganges!” “I don’t see anyone in this world with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, its gods and humans who could do that to me. But anyway, ask what you wish.”

“Where do greed and hate come from? From where spring discontent, desire, and terror? Where do the mind’s thoughts originate, like a crow let loose by boys.”

“Greed and hate come from here; from here spring discontent, desire, and terror; here’s where the mind’s thoughts originate, like a crow let loose by boys.

Born of affection, originating in oneself, like prop roots sprouting from a banyan; the many kinds of attachment to sensual pleasures are like camel’s foot creeper <j>creeping through the woods.

Those who understand where they come from dispel them—listen up, spirit! They cross this flood so hard to cross, not crossed before, so as to not be reborn.”

At one time the Buddha was staying in the land of the Magadhans at the Maṇimālika Shrine, the haunt of the native spirit Maṇibhadda. Then the native spirit Maṇibhadda went up to the Buddha, and spoke this verse in the Buddha’s presence:

“It’s always auspicious for the mindful; the mindful prosper in happiness. Each new day is better for the mindful, and they are freed from enmity.”

“It’s always auspicious for the mindful; the mindful prosper in happiness. Each new day is better for the mindful, but they’re not freed from enmity.

But someone whose mind delights in harmlessness, all day and all night, with love for all living creatures— they have no enmity for anyone.”

At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. Now at that time a certain lay woman had a son named Sānu who had been seized by a native spirit. And as that lay woman wept, on that occasion she recited these verses:

“I have heard this from the perfected ones. The native spirits will not mess with anyone who leads the spiritual life by observing the sabbath

complete in all eight factors on the fourteenth and the fifteenth days, and the eighth day of the fortnight, as well as on the fortnight of special displays. But now today I see native spirits messing with Sānu.”

“What you heard from the perfected ones is right. The native spirits will not mess with anyone who leads the spiritual life by observing the sabbath

complete in all eight factors on the fourteenth and the fifteenth days, and the eighth day of the fortnight, as well as on the fortnight of special displays.

When Sānu regains consciousness tell him this saying of the native spirits: Don’t do bad deeds either openly or in secret.

If you should do a bad deed, or you’re doing one now, you won’t be freed from suffering, though you fly away and flee.”

“Mum, they cry for the dead, or for one who’s alive but missing. I’m alive and you can see me, so mum, why do you weep for me?”

“Son, they cry for the dead, or for one who’s alive but missing. But someone who has given up sensual pleasures only to come back here again: they cry for them as well, for though still alive they’re really dead.

My dear, you’ve been rescued from hot coals, and you want to plunge right back in them! My dear, you’ve been rescued from the abyss, and you want to plunge right back there!

Hurry up, good luck to you! To whom should we complain? A valuable saved from a fire, you want to burn again!”

At one time Venerable Sāriputta was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. Now at that time Venerable Anuruddha rose at the crack of dawn and recited passages of the teaching. Then the native spirit Piyaṅkara’s Mother soothed her little child, saying:

“Don’t make a sound, Piyaṅkara! A mendicant recites passages of the teaching. When we understand a passage, we can practice for our welfare.

Let us restrain ourselves from harming living creatures, and speak no lying words. We should train ourselves well in ethics, and hopefully we’ll be freed from the goblin realm.”

At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. Now at that time the Buddha was educating, encouraging, firing up, and inspiring the mendicants with a Dhamma talk about extinguishment. And those mendicants were paying attention, applying the mind, concentrating wholeheartedly, and actively listening. Then the native spirit Punabbasu’s Mother soothed her little children, saying:

“Hush, little Uttarā! Hush, Punabbasu! For I want to listen to the teaching of the Teacher, the supreme Buddha.

Extinguishment, the Blessed One said, is the release from all ties. I have a lasting love for this teaching.

In this world, your own child is dear; in this world, your own husband is dear; but even greater than that is my love for this teaching’s quest.

For neither son nor husband, dear as they are, can free you from suffering; as listening to the true teaching frees living creatures from suffering.

In this world mired in suffering, fettered by old age and death, I want to listen to the teaching through which the Buddha awakened, which frees you from old age and death. So hush, Punabbasu!”

“Mom, I’m not speaking, and Uttarā is silent, too. Focus just on the teaching, for it’s nice to listen to the true teaching. And it’s because we haven’t understood the teaching that we live in suffering, Mom.

He is a beacon for those who are lost among gods and humans. The Buddha, bearing his final body, the Clear-eyed One teaches Dhamma.”

“It’s good that my child’s so astute, this child I bore and suckled! My child loves the pure teaching of the supreme Buddha.

Punabbasu, may you be happy! Today, I rise. Hear me too, Uttarā: I have seen the noble truths!”

At one time the Buddha was staying near Rājagaha in the Cool Grove. Now at that time the householder Anāthapiṇḍika had arrived at Rājagaha on some business. He heard a rumor that a Buddha had arisen in the world. Right away he wanted to go and see the Buddha, but he thought, “It’s too late to go and see the Buddha today. I’ll go and see him tomorrow.” He went to bed thinking of the Buddha. During the night he got up three times thinking it was sunup. Then he approached the Sivaka Gate, and non-human beings opened it for him. But as he was leaving the city, light vanished and darkness appeared to him. He felt fear, terror, and goosebumps, and wanted to turn back. Then the invisible spirit Sivaka called out:

“A hundred elephants, a hundred horses, a hundred mule-drawn chariots, a hundred thousand maidens bedecked with jeweled earrings: these are not worth a sixteenth part of a single forward stride!

Forward, householder! Forward, householder! Going forward is better for you, not turning back!”

Then darkness vanished and light appeared to Anāthapiṇḍika. His fear, terror, and goosebumps settled down. But for a second time, light vanished and darkness appeared to him. … For a second time the invisible spirit Sivaka called out …

“… Going forward is better for you, not turning back!”

Then darkness vanished and light appeared to Anāthapiṇḍika. His fear, terror, and goosebumps settled down. But for a third time, light vanished and darkness appeared to him. … For a third time the invisible spirit Sivaka called out …

“… Going forward is better for you, not turning back!”

Then darkness vanished and light appeared to Anāthapiṇḍika. His fear, terror, and goosebumps settled down. Then the householder Anāthapiṇḍika went to the Cool Grove and approached the Buddha.

Now at that time the Buddha had risen at the crack of dawn and was walking mindfully in the open. He saw Anāthapiṇḍika coming off in the distance. So he stepped down from the walking path, sat down on the seat spread out, and said to Anāthapiṇḍika, “Come, Sudatta.” Then Anāthapiṇḍika thought, “The Buddha calls me by name!” Smiling and elated, he bowed with his head to the Buddha’s feet and said to him, “Sir, I trust the Buddha slept well?”