Saṃyutta Nikāya (Linked Discourses)

Someone who can prevail over those currents is said to have crossed over the ocean of the eye, with its waves and whirlpools, its saltwater crocodiles and monsters. Crossed over, gone to the far shore, the brahmin stands on solid ground. For a person, the ear … nose … tongue … body … mind is an ocean, and its currents are made of ideas. Someone who can prevail over those currents is said to have crossed over the ocean of the mind, with its waves and whirlpools, its saltwater crocodiles and monsters. Crossed over, gone to the far shore, the brahmin stands on solid ground.” That is what the Buddha said. Then the Holy One, the Teacher, went on to say:

“A knowledge master who’s crossed <j>the ocean so hard to cross, with its saltwater crocodiles and monsters, <j>its waves, whirlpools, and dangers; they’ve completed the spiritual journey and gone to the end of the world, they’re called ‘one who has gone beyond’.”

“Mendicants, an unlearned ordinary person speaks of the ocean. But that’s not the ocean in the training of the Noble One. That’s just a large body of water, a large sea of water. There are sights known by the eye, which are likable, desirable, agreeable, pleasant, sensual, and arousing. This is called the ocean in the training of the Noble One. And it’s here that this world—with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, gods and humans—is for the most part sunk. It’s become tangled like string, knotted like a ball of thread, and matted like rushes and reeds, and it doesn’t escape the places of loss, the bad places, the underworld, transmigration.

There are sounds … smells … tastes … touches … ideas known by the mind, which are likable, desirable, agreeable, pleasant, sensual, and arousing. This is called the ocean in the training of the Noble One. And it’s here that this world—with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, gods and humans—is for the most part sunk. It’s become tangled like string, knotted like a ball of thread, and matted like rushes and reeds, and it doesn’t escape the places of loss, the bad places, the underworld, transmigration.

Those in whom greed, hate, and ignorance have faded away; have crossed the ocean so hard to cross, with its saltwater crocodiles and monsters, <j>its waves and dangers.

They’ve slipped their chains, given up death, and have no attachments. They’ve given up suffering, <j>so there are no more future lives. They’ve disappeared, and cannot be measured; and they’ve confounded the King of Death, I say.”

“Mendicants, suppose an angler was to cast a baited hook into a deep lake. Seeing the bait, a fish would swallow it. And so the fish that swallowed the hook would meet with tragedy and disaster, and the angler can do what he wants with it.

In the same way, there are these six hooks in the world that mean tragedy and slaughter for living creatures. What six? There are sights known by the eye, which are likable, desirable, agreeable, pleasant, sensual, and arousing. If a mendicant approves, welcomes, and keeps clinging to them, they’re called a mendicant who has swallowed Māra’s hook. They’ve met with tragedy and disaster, and the Wicked One can do with them what he wants. There are sounds … smells … tastes … touches …

ideas known by the mind, which are likable, desirable, agreeable, pleasant, sensual, and arousing. If a mendicant approves, welcomes, and keeps clinging to them, they’re called a mendicant who has swallowed Māra’s hook. They’ve met with tragedy and disaster, and the Wicked One can do with them what he wants.

There are sights known by the eye, which are likable, desirable, agreeable, pleasant, sensual, and arousing. If a mendicant doesn’t approve, welcome, and keep clinging to them, they’re called a mendicant who hasn’t swallowed Māra’s hook. They’ve broken the hook, destroyed it. They haven’t met with tragedy and disaster, and the Wicked One cannot do with them what he wants.

There are sounds … smells … tastes … touches … ideas known by the mind, which are likable, desirable, agreeable, pleasant, sensual, and arousing. If a mendicant doesn’t approve, welcome, and keep clinging to them, they’re called a mendicant who hasn’t swallowed Māra’s hook. They’ve broken the hook, destroyed it. They haven’t met with tragedy and disaster, and the Wicked One cannot do with them what he wants.”

“Mendicants, take any monk or nun who, when it comes to sights known by the eye, still has greed, hate, and delusion, and has not given them up. If even trivial sights come into their range of vision they overcome their mind, let alone those that are compelling. Why is that? Because they still have greed, hate, and delusion, and have not given them up.

When it comes to sounds … smells … tastes … touches …

ideas known by the mind, they still have greed, hate, and delusion, and have not given them up. If even trivial thoughts come into the range of the mind they overcome their mind, let alone those that are compelling. Why is that? Because they still have greed, hate, and delusion, and have not given them up.

Suppose there was a latex-producing tree—such as a peepal, a banyan, a wavy leaf fig, or a cluster fig—that’s a tender young sapling. If a man were to chop it here and there with a sharp axe, would latex come out?” “Yes, sir. Why is that? Because it still has latex.”

“In the same way, take any monk or nun who, when it comes to sights known by the eye, still has greed, hate, and delusion, and has not given them up. If even trivial sights come into their range of vision they overcome their mind, let alone those that are compelling. Why is that? Because they still have greed, hate, and delusion, and have not given them up.

When it comes to sounds … smells … tastes … touches …

ideas known by the mind, they still have greed, hate, and delusion, and have not given them up. If even trivial thoughts come into the range of the mind they overcome their mind, let alone those that are compelling. Why is that? Because they still have greed, hate, and delusion, and have not given them up.

Take any monk or nun who, when it comes to sights known by the eye, has no greed, hate, and delusion left, and has given them up. If even compelling sights come into their range of vision they don’t overcome their mind, let alone those that are trivial. Why is that? Because they have no greed, hate, and delusion left, and have given them up.

When it comes to sounds … smells … tastes … touches … ideas known by the mind, they have no greed, hate, and delusion left, and have given them up. If even compelling ideas come into the range of the mind they don’t overcome their mind, let alone those that are trivial. Why is that? Because they have no greed, hate, and delusion left, and have given them up. Suppose there was a latex-producing tree—such as a peepal, a banyan, a wavy leaf fig, or a cluster fig—that’s dried up, withered, and decrepit. If a man were to chop it here and there with a sharp axe, would latex come out?” “No, sir. Why is that? Because it has no latex left.”

“In the same way, take any monk or nun who, when it comes to sights known by the eye, has no greed, hate, and delusion left, and has given them up. If even compelling sights come into their range of vision they don’t overcome their mind, let alone those that are trivial. Why is that? Because they have no greed, hate, and delusion left, and have given them up.

When it comes to sounds … smells … tastes … touches …

ideas known by the mind, they have no greed, hate, and delusion left, and have given them up. If even compelling thoughts come into the range of the mind they don’t overcome their mind, let alone those that are trivial. Why is that? Because they have no greed, hate, and delusion left, and have given them up.”

At one time Venerable Sāriputta and Venerable Mahākoṭṭhita were staying near Varanasi in the deer park at Isipatana. Then in the late afternoon, Venerable Mahākoṭṭhita came out of retreat, went to Venerable Sāriputta, and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he sat down to one side and said to Sāriputta:

“Reverend Sāriputta, which is it? Is the eye the fetter of sights, or are sights the fetter of the eye? Is the ear … nose … tongue … body … mind the fetter of ideas, or are ideas the fetter of the mind?”

“Reverend Koṭṭhita, the eye is not the fetter of sights, nor are sights the fetter of the eye. The fetter there is the desire and greed that arises from the pair of them. The ear … nose … tongue … body … mind is not the fetter of ideas, nor are ideas the fetter of the mind. The fetter there is the desire and greed that arises from the pair of them.

Suppose there was a black ox and a white ox yoked by a single harness or yoke. Would it be right to say that the black ox is the yoke of the white ox, or the white ox is the yoke of the black ox?” “No, reverend. The black ox is not the yoke of the white ox, nor is the white ox the yoke of the black ox. The yoke there is the single harness or yoke that they’re yoked by.”

“In the same way, the eye is not the fetter of sights, nor are sights the fetter of the eye. The fetter there is the desire and greed that arises from the pair of them. The ear … nose … tongue … body … mind is not the fetter of ideas, nor are ideas the fetter of the mind. The fetter there is the desire and greed that arises from the pair of them.

If the eye were the fetter of sights, or if sights were the fetter of the eye, this living of the spiritual life for the complete ending of suffering would not be found. However, since this is not the case, but the fetter there is the desire and greed that arises from the pair of them, this living of the spiritual life for the complete ending of suffering is found.

If the ear … nose … tongue … body …

mind were the fetter of ideas, or if ideas were the fetter of the mind, this living of the spiritual life for the complete ending of suffering would not be found. However, since this is not the case, but the fetter there is the desire and greed that arises from the pair of them, this living of the spiritual life for the complete ending of suffering is found.

This too is a way to understand how this is so.

The Buddha has an eye with which he sees a sight. But he has no desire and greed, for his mind is well freed. The Buddha has an ear … nose … tongue … The Buddha has a body with which he senses touch. But he has no desire and greed, for his mind is well freed. The Buddha has a mind with which he knows ideas. But he has no desire and greed, for his mind is well freed.

This too is a way to understand how the eye is not the fetter of sights, nor are sights the fetter of the eye. The fetter there is the desire and greed that arises from the pair of them. The ear … nose … tongue … body … mind is not the fetter of ideas, nor are ideas the fetter of the mind. The fetter there is the desire and greed that arises from the pair of them.”

At one time the venerables Ānanda and Kāmabhū were staying near Kosambī in Ghosita’s monastery. Then in the late afternoon, Venerable Kāmabhū came out of retreat, went to Venerable Ānanda, and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he sat down to one side and said to Ānanda:

“Reverend Ānanda, which is it? Is the eye the fetter of sights, or are sights the fetter of the eye? Is the ear … nose … tongue … body … mind the fetter of ideas, or are ideas the fetter of the mind?”

“Reverend Kāmabhū, the eye is not the fetter of sights, nor are sights the fetter of the eye. The fetter there is the desire and greed that arises from the pair of them. The ear … nose … tongue … body … mind is not the fetter of ideas, nor are ideas the fetter of the mind. The fetter there is the desire and greed that arises from the pair of them.

Suppose there was a black ox and a white ox yoked by a single harness or yoke. Would it be right to say that the black ox is the yoke of the white ox, or the white ox is the yoke of the black ox?” “No, reverend. The black ox is not the yoke of the white ox, nor is the white ox the yoke of the black ox. The yoke there is the single harness or yoke that they’re yoked by.” “In the same way, the eye is not the fetter of sights, nor are sights the fetter of the eye. The ear … nose … tongue … body … mind is not the fetter of ideas, nor are ideas the fetter of the mind. The fetter there is the desire and greed that arises from the pair of them.”

At one time the venerables Ānanda and Udāyī were staying near Kosambī in Ghosita’s monastery. Then in the late afternoon, Venerable Udāyī came out of retreat, went to Venerable Ānanda, and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he sat down to one side and said to Ānanda:

“Reverend Ānanda, the Buddha has explained, opened, and revealed in many ways how this body is not-self. Is it possible to explain consciousness in the same way? To teach, assert, establish, clarify, analyze, and reveal how consciousness is not-self?”

“It is possible, Reverend Udāyī.

Does eye consciousness arise dependent on the eye and sights?” “Yes, reverend.” “If the cause and reason that gives rise to eye consciousness were to totally and utterly cease without remainder, would eye consciousness still be found?” “No, reverend.” “In this way, too, it can be understood how consciousness is not-self.

Does ear … nose … tongue … body …

mind consciousness arise dependent on the mind and ideas?” “Yes, reverend.” “If the cause and reason that gives rise to mind consciousness were to totally and utterly cease without remainder, would mind consciousness still be found?” “No, reverend.” “In this way, too, it can be understood how consciousness is not-self.

Suppose there was a person in need of heartwood. Wandering in search of heartwood, they’d take a sharp axe and enter a forest. There they’d see a big banana trunk, straight and young and grown unskewed. They’d cut it down at the base, cut off the root, cut off the top, and unroll the coiled sheaths. But they wouldn’t even find sapwood, much less heartwood. In the same way, a mendicant sees these six fields of contact as neither self nor belonging to self. So seeing, they don’t grasp anything in the world. Not grasping, they’re not anxious. Not being anxious, they personally become extinguished. They understand: ‘Rebirth is ended, the spiritual journey has been completed, what had to be done has been done, there is nothing further for this place.’”

“Mendicants, I will teach you an exposition of the teaching on burning. Listen … And what is the exposition of the teaching on burning? You’d be better off mutilating your eye faculty with a red-hot iron nail, burning, blazing, and glowing, than getting caught up in the features by way of the details in sights known by the eye. Should consciousness tied to gratification in the features or details continue to remain, and you were to die at that time, it’s possible you would go to one of two destinations: hell or the animal realm. I speak having seen this drawback.

You’d be better off mutilating your ear faculty with a sharp iron spike …

You’d be better off mutilating your nose faculty with a sharp nail cutter …

You’d be better off mutilating your tongue faculty with a sharp razor …

You’d be better off mutilating your body faculty with a sharp spear, burning, blazing, and glowing, than getting caught up in the features by way of the details in touches known by the body. Should consciousness tied to gratification in the features or details continue to remain, and you were to die at that time, it’s possible you would go to one of two destinations: hell or the animal realm. I speak having seen this drawback.

You’d be better off sleeping. For I say that sleep is useless, fruitless, and folly for the living. But while you’re asleep you won’t fall under the sway of such thoughts that would make you create a schism in the Saṅgha. I speak having seen this drawback.

A learned noble disciple reflects on this: ‘Forget mutilating the eye faculty with a red-hot iron nail, burning, blazing, and glowing! I’d better focus on the fact that the eye, sights, eye consciousness, and eye contact are impermanent. And the painful, pleasant, or neutral feeling that arises dependent on eye contact is also impermanent.

Forget mutilating the ear faculty with a sharp iron spike, burning, blazing, and glowing! I’d better focus on the fact that the ear, sounds, ear consciousness, and ear contact are impermanent. And the painful, pleasant, or neutral feeling that arises dependent on ear contact is also impermanent.

Forget mutilating the nose faculty with a sharp nail cutter, burning, blazing, and glowing! I’d better focus on the fact that the nose, smells, nose consciousness, and nose contact are impermanent. And the painful, pleasant, or neutral feeling that arises dependent on nose contact is also impermanent.

Forget mutilating the tongue faculty with a sharp razor, burning, blazing, and glowing! I’d better focus on the fact that the tongue, tastes, tongue consciousness, and tongue contact are impermanent. And the painful, pleasant, or neutral feeling that arises dependent on tongue contact is also impermanent.

Forget mutilating the body faculty with a sharp spear, burning, blazing, and glowing! I’d better focus on the fact that the body, touches, body consciousness, and body contact are impermanent. And the painful, pleasant, or neutral feeling that arises dependent on body contact is also impermanent.

Forget sleeping! I’d better focus on the fact that the mind, ideas, mind consciousness, and mind contact are impermanent. And the painful, pleasant, or neutral feeling that arises dependent on mind contact is also impermanent.’

Seeing this, a learned noble disciple grows disillusioned with the eye, sights, eye consciousness, and eye contact. And they grow disillusioned with the painful, pleasant, or neutral feeling that arises dependent on eye contact. They grow disillusioned with the ear … nose … tongue … body … mind … painful, pleasant, or neutral feeling that arises dependent on mind contact. Being disillusioned, desire fades away. When desire fades away they’re freed. When they’re freed, they know they’re freed. They understand: ‘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 is the exposition of the teaching on burning.”

“Mendicants, when there are hands, picking up and putting down are found. When there are feet, coming and going are found. When there are joints, contracting and extending are found. When there’s a belly, hunger and thirst are found. In the same way, when there’s an eye, pleasure and pain arise internally conditioned by eye contact. When there’s an ear … nose … tongue … body … mind, pleasure and pain arise internally conditioned by mind contact.

When there are no hands, picking up and putting down aren’t found. When there are no feet, coming and going aren’t found. When there are no joints, contracting and extending aren’t found. When there’s no belly, hunger and thirst aren’t found. In the same way, when there’s no eye, pleasure and pain don’t arise internally conditioned by eye contact. When there’s no ear … nose … tongue … body … mind, pleasure and pain don’t arise internally conditioned by mind contact.”

“Mendicants, when there are hands, there’s picking up and putting down. When there are feet, there’s coming and going. When there are joints, there’s contracting and extending. When there’s a belly, there’s hunger and thirst. In the same way, when there’s an eye, pleasure and pain arise internally conditioned by eye contact. When there’s an ear … nose … tongue … body … mind, pleasure and pain arise internally conditioned by mind contact.

When there are no hands, there’s no picking up and putting down. When there are no feet, there’s no coming and going. When there are no joints, there’s no contracting and extending. When there’s no belly, there’s no hunger and thirst. In the same way, when there’s no eye, pleasure and pain don’t arise internally conditioned by eye contact. When there’s no ear … nose … tongue … body … mind, pleasure and pain don’t arise internally conditioned by mind contact.”

“Mendicants, suppose there were four venomous vipers of awesome might. Then a person would come along who wants to live and doesn’t want to die, who wants to be happy and recoils from pain. They’d say to him, ‘My man, here are four venomous vipers of awesome might. They must be periodically picked up, washed, fed, and put to sleep. But when one or other of these four venomous vipers gets angry with you, you’ll meet with death or deadly pain. So then, my man, do what has to be done.’

Then that man, terrified of those four venomous vipers, would flee this way or that. They’d say to him, ‘My man, there are five deadly enemies chasing you, thinking: “When we catch sight of him, we’ll murder him right there!” So then, my man, do what has to be done.’

Then that man, terrified of those four venomous vipers and those five deadly enemies, would flee this way or that. They’d say to him, ‘My man, there’s a sixth hidden killer chasing you with a drawn sword, thinking: “When I catch sight of him, I’ll chop off his head right there!” So then, my man, do what has to be done.’

Then that man, terrified of those four venomous vipers and those five deadly enemies and the hidden killer, would flee this way or that. He’d see an empty village. But whatever house he enters is vacant, deserted, and empty. And whatever vessel he touches is vacant, hollow, and empty. They’d say to him, ‘My man, there are bandits who raid villages, and they’re striking now. So then, my man, do what has to be done.’

Then that man, terrified of those four venomous vipers and those five deadly enemies and the hidden killer and the bandits, would flee this way or that. He’d see a large deluge, whose near shore is dubious and perilous, while the far shore is a sanctuary free of peril. But there’s no ferryboat or bridge for crossing over. Then that man would think, ‘Why don’t I gather grass, sticks, branches, and leaves and make a raft? Riding on the raft, and paddling with my hands and feet, I can safely reach the far shore.’

And so that man did exactly that. Having crossed over and gone to the far shore, the brahmin stands on solid ground.

I’ve made up this simile to make a point. And this is the point. ‘Four venomous vipers of awesome might’ is a term for the four principal states: the elements of earth, water, fire, and air.

‘Five deadly enemies’ is a term for the five grasping aggregates, that is: form, feeling, perception, choices, and consciousness.

‘The sixth hidden killer with a drawn sword’ is a term for relishing and greed.

‘Empty village’ is a term for the six interior sense fields. If an astute, competent, intelligent person investigates that in relation to the eye, it appears vacant, hollow, and empty. If an astute, competent, intelligent person investigates that in relation to the ear … nose … tongue … body … mind, it appears vacant, hollow, and empty.

‘Bandits who raid villages’ is a term for the six exterior sense fields. The eye is struck by both agreeable and disagreeable sights. The ear … nose … tongue … body … mind is struck by both agreeable and disagreeable ideas.

‘Large deluge’ is a term for the four floods: the floods of sensual pleasures, desire to be reborn, views, and ignorance.

‘The near shore that’s dubious and perilous’ is a term for substantial reality.

‘The far shore, a sanctuary free of peril’ is a term for extinguishment.

‘The raft’ 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.

‘Paddling with hands and feet’ is a term for rousing energy.

‘Crossed over, gone to the far shore, the brahmin stands on solid ground’ is a term for a perfected one.”

“Mendicants, when a mendicant has three qualities they’re full of joy and happiness in this very life, and they have laid the groundwork for ending the defilements. What three? They guard the sense doors, eat in moderation, and are committed to wakefulness.

And how does a mendicant guard the sense doors? When a mendicant sees a sight with their eyes, they don’t get caught up in the features and details. If the faculty of sight were left unrestrained, bad unskillful qualities of covetousness and displeasure would become overwhelming. For this reason, they practice restraint, protecting the faculty of sight, and achieving its restraint. When they hear a sound with their ears … When they smell an odor with their nose … When they taste a flavor with their tongue … When they feel a touch with their body … When they know an idea with their mind, they don’t get caught up in the features and details. If the faculty of mind were left unrestrained, bad unskillful qualities of covetousness and displeasure would become overwhelming. For this reason, they practice restraint, protecting the faculty of mind, and achieving its restraint. 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, a mendicant trains to protect, control, tame, and pacify these six senses. That’s how a mendicant guards the sense doors.

And how does a mendicant eat in moderation? It’s when a mendicant reflects rationally on the food that they eat: ‘Not for fun, indulgence, adornment, or decoration, but only to sustain this body, to avoid harm, and to support spiritual practice. In this way, I shall put an end to old discomfort and not give rise to new discomfort, and I will have the means to keep going, blamelessness, and a comfortable abiding.’ It’s like a person who puts ointment on a wound only so that it can heal; or who oils an axle only so that it can carry a load. In the same way, a mendicant reflects rationally on the food that they eat: ‘Not for fun, indulgence, adornment, or decoration, but only to sustain this body, to avoid harm, and to support spiritual practice. In this way, I shall put an end to old discomfort and not give rise to new discomfort, and I will have the means to keep going, blamelessness, and a comfortable abiding.’ That’s how a mendicant eats in moderation.

And how is a mendicant committed to wakefulness? It’s when a mendicant practices walking and sitting meditation by day, purifying their mind from obstacles. In the first watch of the night, they continue to practice walking and sitting meditation. In the middle watch, they lie down in the lion’s posture—on the right side, placing one foot on top of the other—mindful and aware, and focused on the time of getting up. In the last watch, they get up and continue to practice walking and sitting meditation, purifying their mind from obstacles. This is how a mendicant is committed to wakefulness. When a mendicant possesses these three qualities they’re full of joy and happiness in this very life, and they have laid the groundwork for ending the defilements.”

“Once upon a time, mendicants, a tortoise was grazing along the bank of a river in the afternoon. At the same time, a jackal was also hunting along the river bank. The tortoise saw the jackal off in the distance hunting, so it drew its limbs and neck inside its shell, and kept passive and silent. But the jackal also saw the tortoise off in the distance grazing. So it went up to the tortoise and waited nearby, thinking, ‘When that tortoise sticks one or other of its limbs or neck out from its shell, I’ll grab it right there, rip it out, and eat it!’ But when that tortoise didn’t stick one or other of its limbs or neck out from its shell, the jackal left disappointed, since it couldn’t find a vulnerability.

In the same way, Māra the Wicked is always waiting nearby, thinking: ‘Hopefully I can find a vulnerability in the eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind.’ That’s why you should live with sense doors guarded. When you see a sight with your eyes, don’t get caught up in the features and details. If the faculty of sight were left unrestrained, bad unskillful qualities of covetousness and displeasure would become overwhelming. For this reason, practice restraint, protecting the faculty of sight, and achieving its restraint. When you hear a sound with your ears … When you smell an odor with your nose … When you taste a flavor with your tongue … When you feel a touch with your body … When you know an idea with your mind, don’t get caught up in the features and details. If the faculty of mind were left unrestrained, bad unskillful qualities of covetousness and displeasure would become overwhelming. For this reason, practice restraint, protecting the faculty of mind, and achieving its restraint. When you live with your sense doors guarded, Māra will leave you disappointed, since he can’t find a vulnerability, just like the jackal left the tortoise.

A mendicant should collect their thoughts as a tortoise draws its limbs into its shell. Independent, not disturbing others, quenched: they wouldn’t blame anyone.”

At one time the Buddha was staying near Kosambī on the bank of the Ganges River. Seeing a large tree trunk being carried along by the current, he addressed the mendicants, “Mendicants, do you see that large tree trunk being carried along by the current of the Ganges River?” “Yes, sir.” “Mendicants, assume that that tree trunk doesn’t drift toward the near shore or the far shore, or sink in the middle, or get stranded on high ground. And assume that it doesn’t get taken by humans or non-humans or caught up in a whirlpool, and that it doesn’t rot away. In that case, that tree trunk will slant, slope, and incline toward the ocean. Why is that? Because the current of the Ganges River slants, slopes, and inclines toward the ocean.

In the same way, assume that you don’t drift toward the near shore or the far shore, or sink in the middle, or get stranded on high ground. And assume that you don’t get taken by humans or non-humans or caught up in a whirlpool, and that you don’t rot away. In that case, you will slant, slope, and incline toward extinguishment. Why is that? Because right view slants, slopes, and inclines toward extinguishment.” When he said this, one of the mendicants said to the Buddha: “But sir, what’s the near shore and what’s the far shore? What’s sinking in the middle? What’s getting stranded on high ground? What’s getting taken by humans or non-humans? What’s getting caught up in a whirlpool? And what’s rotting away?”

“‘The near shore’, mendicant, is a term for the six interior sense fields. ‘The far shore’ is a term for the six exterior sense fields. ‘Sinking in the middle’ is a term for greed and relishing. ‘Stranded on high ground’ is a term for the conceit ‘I am’.

And what’s getting taken by humans? It’s when someone mixes closely with laypeople, sharing their joys and sorrows—happy when they’re happy and sad when they’re sad—and getting themselves involved in their business. That’s called getting taken by humans.

And what’s getting taken by non-humans? It’s when someone leads the spiritual life wishing to be reborn in one of the orders of gods: ‘By this precept or observance or fervent austerity or spiritual practice, may I become one of the gods!’ That’s called getting taken by non-humans. ‘Caught up in a whirlpool’ is a term for the five kinds of sensual stimulation.

And what’s rotting away? It’s when some person is unethical, of bad qualities, filthy, with suspicious behavior, underhand, no true ascetic or spiritual practitioner—though claiming to be one—rotten inside, festering, and depraved. This is called ‘rotting away’.”

Now at that time Nanda the cowherd was sitting not far from the Buddha. Then he said to the Buddha: “I won’t drift toward the near shore or the far shore, or sink in the middle, or get stranded on high ground. And I won’t get taken by humans or non-humans or caught up in a whirlpool, and I won’t rot away. Sir, may I receive the going forth, the ordination in the Buddha’s presence?” “Well then, Nanda, return the cows to their owners.” “Sir, the cows will go back by themselves, since they love their calves.” “Still, Nanda, you should return them to their owners.” Then Nanda, after returning the cows to their owners, went up to the Buddha and said to him, “Sir, I have delivered the cows to their owners. May I receive the going forth, the ordination in the Buddha’s presence?” And the cowherd Nanda received the going forth, the ordination in the Buddha’s presence. Not long after his ordination, Venerable Nanda became one of the perfected.

At one time the Buddha was staying near Kimibilā on the bank of the Ganges River. Seeing a large tree trunk being carried along by the current, he addressed the mendicants: “Mendicants, do you see that large tree trunk being carried along by the current of the Ganges River?” “Yes, sir,” they replied. … When this was said, Venerable Kimbila said to the Buddha: “But sir, what’s the near shore and what’s the far shore? What’s sinking in the middle? What’s getting stranded on high ground? What’s getting taken by humans or non-humans? What’s getting caught up in a whirlpool? And what’s rotting away?” … “And what, Kimbila, is rotting away? It’s when a mendicant has committed the kind of corrupt offense for which no rehabilitation is possible. This is called ‘rotting away’.”

At one time the Buddha was staying in the land of the Sakyans, near Kapilavatthu in the Banyan Tree Monastery. Now at that time a new town hall had recently been constructed for the Sakyans of Kapilavatthu. It had not yet been occupied by an ascetic or brahmin or any human at all. Then the Sakyans of Kapilavatthu went up to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and said to him, “Sir, a new town hall has recently been constructed for the Sakyans of Kapilavatthu. It has not yet been occupied by an ascetic or brahmin or any human at all. May the Buddha be the first to use it, and only then will the Sakyans of Kapilavatthu use it. That would be for the lasting welfare and happiness of the Sakyans of Kapilavatthu.” The Buddha consented with silence.

Knowing that the Buddha had consented, the Sakyans rose from their seats, bowed and respectfully circled the Buddha, keeping him on their right. Then they went to the new town hall, where they spread carpets all over, prepared seats, set up a water jar, and placed an oil lamp. Then they went back to the Buddha and told him of their preparations, saying, “Please, sir, come at your convenience.” Then the Buddha robed up and, taking his bowl and robe, went to the new town hall together with the Saṅgha of mendicants. Having washed his feet, he entered the town hall and sat against the central column facing east. The Saṅgha of mendicants also washed their feet, entered the town hall, and sat against the west wall facing east, with the Buddha right in front of them. The Sakyans of Kapilavatthu also washed their feet, entered the town hall, and sat against the east wall facing west, with the Buddha right in front of them. The Buddha spent much of the night educating, encouraging, firing up, and inspiring the Sakyans with a Dhamma talk. Then he sent them off, saying, “The night is getting late, Gotamas. Please go at your convenience.” “Yes, sir,” replied the Sakyans. They got up from their seat, bowed and respectfully circled the Buddha, keeping him on their right, before leaving.

Then, not long after the Sakyans had left, the Buddha addressed Venerable Mahāmoggallāna, “Moggallāna, the Saṅgha of mendicants is rid of dullness and drowsiness. Give them some Dhamma talk as you feel inspired. My back is sore, I’ll stretch it.” “Yes, sir,” Mahāmoggallāna replied. And then the Buddha spread out his outer robe folded in four and laid down in the lion’s posture—on the right side, placing one foot on top of the other—mindful and aware, and focused on the time of getting up. There Venerable Mahāmoggallāna addressed the mendicants: “Reverends, mendicants!” “Reverend,” they replied. Venerable Mahāmoggallāna said this: “I will teach you the explanation of the festering and the not festering. Listen and apply your mind well, I will speak.” “Yes, reverend,” they replied. Venerable Mahāmoggallāna said this:

“And how is someone festering? Take a mendicant who sees a sight with their eyes. If it’s pleasant they hold on to it, but if it’s unpleasant they dislike it. They live with mindfulness of the body unestablished and their heart stunted. And they don’t truly understand the freedom of heart and freedom by wisdom where those arisen bad, unskillful qualities cease without remainder. They hear a sound … smell an odor … taste a flavor … feel a touch … know an idea with their mind. If it’s pleasant they hold on to it, but if it’s unpleasant they dislike it. They live with mindfulness of the body unestablished and their heart stunted. And they don’t truly understand the freedom of heart and freedom by wisdom where those arisen bad, unskillful qualities cease without remainder. This is called a mendicant who is festering when it comes to sights known by the eye, sounds … smells … tastes … touches … ideas known by the mind. When a mendicant lives like this, if Māra comes at them through the eye he finds a vulnerability and gets an opportunity. If Māra comes at them through the ear … nose … tongue … body … mind he finds a vulnerability and gets an opportunity.

Suppose there was a house made of reeds or straw that was dried up, withered, and decrepit. If a person came to it with a burning grass torch from the east, west, north, south, below, above, or from anywhere, the fire would find a vulnerability, it would get an opportunity. In the same way, when a mendicant lives like this, if Māra comes at them through the eye he finds a vulnerability and gets an opportunity. If Māra comes at them through the ear … nose … tongue … body … mind he finds a vulnerability and gets an opportunity. When a mendicant lives like this, they’re mastered by sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touches, and ideas, they don’t master these things. This is called a mendicant who has been mastered by sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touches, and ideas. They’re mastered, not a master. Bad, unskillful qualities have mastered them, which are corrupting, leading to future lives, hurtful, and resulting in suffering and future rebirth, old age, and death. That’s how someone is festering.

And how is someone not festering? Take a mendicant who sees a sight with their eyes. If it’s pleasant they don’t hold on to it, and if it’s unpleasant they don’t dislike it. They live with mindfulness of the body established and a limitless heart. And they truly understand the freedom of heart and freedom by wisdom where those arisen bad, unskillful qualities cease without remainder. They hear a sound … smell an odor … taste a flavor … feel a touch … know an idea with their mind. If it’s pleasant they don’t hold on to it, and if it’s unpleasant they don’t dislike it. They live with mindfulness of the body established and a limitless heart. And they truly understand the freedom of heart and freedom by wisdom where those arisen bad, unskillful qualities cease without remainder. This is called a mendicant who is not festering when it comes to sights known by the eye, sounds … smells … tastes … touches … ideas known by the mind. When a mendicant lives like this, if Māra comes at them through the eye he doesn’t find a vulnerability or get an opportunity. If Māra comes at them through the ear … nose … tongue … body … mind he doesn’t find a vulnerability or get an opportunity.