"In the same way, an uninstructed, run-of-the-mill person ... assumes form (the body) to be the self, or the self as possessing form, or form as in the self, or the self as in form.
"He assumes feeling to be the self ....
"He assumes perception to be the self ....
"He assumes (mental) fabrications to be the self ....
"He assumes consciousness to be the self, or the self as possessing consciousness, or consciousness as in the self, or the self as in consciousness.
"He does not discern inconstant form, as it actually is present, as 'inconstant form.' He does not discern inconstant feeling, as it actually is present, as 'inconstant feeling.' He does not discern inconstant perception .... He does not discern inconstant fabrications .... He does not discern inconstant consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'inconstant consciousness.'
"He does not discern stressful form, as it actually is present, as 'stressful form.' He does not discern stressful feeling .... He does not discern stressful perception .... He does not discern stressful fabrications .... He does not discern stressful consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'stressful consciousness.'
"He does not discern not-self form, as it actually is present, as 'not-self form.' He does not discern not-self feeling .... He does not discern not-self perception .... He does not discern not-self fabrications .... He does not discern not-self consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'not-self consciousness.'
"He does not discern fabricated form, as it actually is present, as 'fabricated form.' He does not discern fabricated feeling .... He does not discern fabricated perception .... He does not discern fabricated fabrications .... He does not discern fabricated consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'fabricated consciousness.'
"He does not discern murderous form, as it actually is present, as 'murderous form.' He does not discern murderous feeling .... He does not discern murderous perception .... He does not discern murderous fabrications .... He does not discern murderous consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'murderous consciousness.'
"He gets attached to form, clings to form, & determines it to be 'my self.' He gets attached to feeling .... He gets attached to perception ... He gets attached to fabrications ... He gets attached to consciousness, clings to consciousness, & determines it to be 'my self.' These five aggregates of clinging -- attached to, clung to -- lead to his long-term loss & suffering.
"Now, the well-instructed, disciple of the noble ones ... does not assume form to be the self, or the self as possessing form, or form as in the self, or the self as in form.
"He does not assume feeling to be the self ....
"He does not assume perception to be the self ....
"He does not assume fabrications to be the self ....
"He does not assume consciousness to be the self, or the self as possessing consciousness, or consciousness as in the self, or the self as in consciousness.
"He discerns inconstant form, as it actually is present, as 'inconstant form.' He discerns inconstant feeling .... He discerns inconstant perception .... He discerns inconstant fabrications .... He discerns inconstant consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'inconstant consciousness.'
"He discerns stressful form, as it actually is present, as 'stressful form.' He discerns stressful feeling .... He discerns stressful perception .... He discerns stressful fabrications .... He discerns stressful consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'stressful consciousness.'
"He discerns not-self form, as it actually is present, as 'not-self form.' He discerns not-self feeling .... He discerns not-self perception .... He discerns not-self fabrications .... He discerns not-self consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'not-self consciousness.'
"He discerns fabricated form, as it actually is present, as 'fabricated form.' He discerns fabricated feeling .... He discerns fabricated perception .... He discerns fabricated fabrications .... He discerns fabricated consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'fabricated consciousness.'
"He discerns murderous form, as it actually is present, as 'murderous form.' He discerns murderous feeling .... He discerns murderous perception .... He discerns murderous fabrications .... He discerns murderous consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'murderous consciousness.'
"He does not get attached to form, does not cling to form, does not determine it to be 'my self.' He does not get attached to feeling .... He does not get attached to perception ... He does not get attached to fabrications ... He does not get attached to consciousness, does not cling to consciousness, does not determine it to be 'my self.' These five aggregates of clinging -- not attached to, not clung to -- lead to his long-term happiness & well-being."
"Even so, my friend Sariputta, are those who have people like you as their fellows in the holy life, teaching them, admonishing them out of sympathy, desiring their welfare. For now that I have heard this explanation of the Dhamma from you, my mind -- through lack of clinging/sustenance -- has been released from the effluents."
[SN XXII.85]
§16. "Monks,
suppose there were a river, flowing down from the mountains, going far, its
current swift, carrying everything with it, and -- holding on to both banks
-- kasa grasses, kusa grasses, reeds, birana grasses, & trees were growing.
Then a man swept away by the current would grab hold of the kasa grasses, but
they would tear away, and so from that cause he would come to disaster. He would
grab hold of the kusa grasses ... the reeds ... the birana grasses ... the trees,
but they would tear away, and so from that cause he would come to disaster.
"In the same way, there is the case where an uninstructed, run-of-the-mill
person -- who has no regard for nobles ones, is not well-versed or disciplined
in their Dhamma; who has no regard for men of integrity, is not well-versed
or disciplined in their Dhamma -- assumes form (the body) to be the self, or
the self as possessing form, or form as in the self, or the self as in form.
That form tears away from him, and so from that cause he would come to disaster.
"He assumes feeling to be the self, or the self as possessing feeling, or feeling as in the self, or the self as in feeling. That feeling tears away from him, and so from that cause he would come to disaster.
"He assumes perception to be the self, or the self as possessing perception, or perception as in the self, or the self as in perception. That perception tears away from him, and so from that cause he would come to disaster.
"He assumes (mental) fabrications to be the self, or the self as possessing fabrications, or fabrications as in the self, or the self as in fabrications. Those fabrications tear away from him, and so from that cause he would come to disaster.
"He assumes consciousness to be the self, or the self as possessing consciousness, or consciousness as in the self, or the self as in consciousness. That consciousness tears away from him, and so from that cause he would come to disaster.
"Now, monks, what do you think: Is form constant or inconstant?"
"Inconstant, lord."
"Is feeling constant or inconstant?"
"Inconstant, lord."
"Is perception constant or inconstant?"
"Inconstant, lord."
"Are fabrications constant or inconstant?"
"Inconstant, lord."
"Is consciousness constant or inconstant?"
"Inconstant, lord."
"Thus, monks, whatever form is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle, common or sublime; far or near: all form is to be seen as it actually is with right discernment: 'This is not mine. This is not my self. This is not what I am.'
"Whatever feeling .... Whatever perception .... Whatever fabrications ....
"Whatever consciousness is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle, common or sublime; far or near: all consciousness is to be seen as it actually is with right discernment: 'This is not mine. This is not my self. This is not what I am.'
"Seeing thus, the well-instructed disciple of the noble ones grows disenchanted with form, disenchanted with feeling, disenchanted with perception, disenchanted with fabrications, disenchanted with consciousness. Disenchanted, he grows dispassionate. Through dispassion, he is released. With release, there is the knowledge, 'Released.' He discerns that 'Birth is ended, the holy life fulfilled, the task done. There is nothing further for this world.'"
[SN XXII.93]
§17. Then, early
in the morning, Cala the nun put on her robes and, taking her bowl & outer
robe, went into Savatthi for alms. When she had gone for alms in Savatthi and
had returned from her alms round, after her meal she went to the Grove of the
Blind to spend the day. Having gone deep into the Grove of the Blind, she sat
down at the foot of a tree for the day's abiding.
Then Mara the Evil One, wanting to arouse fear, horripilation, & terror
in her, wanting to make her fall from solitude, approached her & said, "What
is it that you don't approve of, nun?"
"I don't approve of birth, my friend."
[Mara:]
"Why don't you approve of birth?
One who is born
enjoys sensual pleasures.
Who on earth
ever persuaded you:
'Nun, don't approve of birth'?"
[Sister Cala:]
"For one who is born
there's death.
One who is born
sees pain.
It's a binding, a flogging, a torment.
That's why one shouldn't approve
of birth.
The Awakened One taught me the Dhamma
-- the overcoming of birth --
for the abandoning of all pain,
he established me in
the truth.
But beings who have
come to form
& those with a share in the formless,
if they don't discern cessation,
return to becoming-again."
Then Mara the Evil One -- sad & dejected at realizing, "Cala the nun knows me" -- vanished right there.
[SN V.6]
§18. As a cowherd
with a rod
drives cows to the field,
so aging & death
drive the life
of living beings.
[Dhp 135]
§19. What laughter,
why joy,
when constantly aflame?
Enveloped in darkness,
don't you look for a lamp?
Look at the beautified image,
a heap of festering wounds, shored up:
ill, but the object
of many resolves,
where there is nothing
lasting or sure.
Worn out is this body,
a nest of diseases, dissolving.
This putrid conglomeration
is bound to break up,
for life is hemmed in with death.
On seeing these bones
discarded
like gourds in the fall,
pigeon-gray:
what delight?
A city made of bones,
plastered over with flesh & blood,
whose hidden treasures are:
pride & contempt,
aging & death.
Even royal chariots
well-embellished
get run down,
and so does the body
succumb to old age.
But the Dhamma of the good
doesn't succumb to old age:
the good let the civilized know.
This unlistening man
matures like an ox.
His muscles develop,
his discernment not.
[Dhp 146-152]
§20. Whether walking,
standing,
sitting, or lying down,
it flexes & stretches:
this is the body's movement.
Joined together with tendons & bones,
plastered over with muscle & skin,
hidden by complexion,
the body isn't seen
for what it is:
filled with intestines, filled with stomach,
with the lump of the liver,
bladder, lungs, heart,
kidneys, spleen,
mucus, sweat, saliva, fat,
blood, synovial fluid, bile, & oil.
On top of that,
in nine streams,
filth is always flowing from it:
from the eyes : eye secretions,
from the ears : ear secretions,
from the nose : mucus,
from the mouth : now vomit,
now phlegm,
now bile.
from the body : beads of sweat.
And on top of that,
its hollow head is filled with brains.
The fool, beset by ignorance,
thinks it beautiful.
but when it lies dead,
swollen, livid,
cast away in a charnel ground,
even relatives don't care for it.
Dogs feed on it,
jackals, wolves, & worms.
Crows & vultures feed on it,
along with any other animals there.
Having heard the Awakened
One's words,
the discerning monk
comprehends, for he sees it
for what it is:
"As this is, so is that.
As that, so this."
Within & without,
he should let desire for the body
fade away.
With desire & passion faded away,
the discerning monk arrives here:
at the deathless,
the calm,
the undying state
of Unbinding.
This two-footed, filthy,
evil-smelling,
filled-with-various-carcasses,
oozing-out-here-&-there body:
Whoever would think,
on the basis of a body like this,
to exalt himself or disparage another:
What is that
if not blindness?
[Sn I.11]
§21. How short
this life!
You die this side of a century,
but even if you live past,
you die of old age.
People grieve
for what they see as mine,
for nothing possessed is constant,
nothing is constantly possessed.[1]
Seeing this separation
simply as it is,
one shouldn't follow the household life.
At death a person abandons
what he construes as mine.
Realizing this, the wise
shouldn't incline
to be devoted to mine.
Just as a man doesn't
see,
on awakening,
what he met in a dream,
even so he doesn't see,
when they are dead
-- their time done --
those he held dear.
When they are seen &
heard,
people are called by this name or that,
but only the name remains
to be pointed to
when they are dead.
Grief, lamentation,
& selfishness
are not let go
by those greedy for mine,
so sages
letting go of possessions,
seeing the Secure,
go wandering forth.
A monk, living withdrawn,
enjoying a dwelling secluded:
they say it's congenial for him
he who wouldn't, in any realm,
display self.
Everywhere
the sage
independent
holds nothing dear or undear.
In him
lamentation & selfishness,
like water on a white lotus,
do not adhere.
As a water bead on a
lotus leaf,
as water on a red lily,
does not adhere,
so the sage
does not adhere
to the seen, the heard, or the sensed;
for, cleansed,
he doesn't construe
in connection
with the seen, the heard, or the sensed.
In no other way
does he wish for purity,
for he neither takes on passion
nor puts it away.[2]
[Sn IV.6]
Notes
1. "Nothing possessed is constant, nothing is constantly possessed"
-- two readings of the phrase, na hi santi nicca pariggaha. [Go back]
2. Nd.I: An arahant has put passion totally away once and for all, and so has
no need to do it ever again. [Go back]
* * *
§22. [Ven. Kappa:]
Full of the many clans of impurities,
the great manufacturer of excrement,
like a stagnant pool,
a great tumor,
great wound,
full of blood & lymph,
immersed in a cesspool,
trickling liquids, the body
is oozing foulness -- always.
Bound together with sixty sinews,
plastered with a stucco of muscle,
wrapped in a jacket of skin,
this foul body is of no worth at all.
Linked together with a chain of bones,
stitched together with tendon-threads,
it produces its various postures,
from being hitched up together.
Headed surely to death,
in the presence of the King of Mortality,
the man who learns to discard it right here,
goes wherever he wants.
Covered with ignorance,
the body's tied down with a four-fold tie,[1]
sunk in the floods,[2]
caught in the net of latencies,[3]
conjoined with five hindrances,[4]
given over to thought,
accompanied with the root of craving,
roofed with delusion's roofing.
That's how the body functions,
compelled by the compulsion of kamma,
but its attainment ends
in ruin.
Its many becomings go
to ruin.
These who hold to this
body as mine
-- blind fools, people run-of-the-mill --
fill the horrific cemetery,
taking on further becoming.
Those who stay uninvolved with this body
-- as they would with a serpent
smeared with dung --
disgorging the root of becoming,[5]
from lack of effluent,
with be totally Unbound.
[Thag X.5]
Notes
1. The four-fold tie: greed, ill will, attachment to precepts & practice,
and dogmatic obsession with views. [Go back]
2. Floods: passion for sensuality, becoming, views, and ignorance. [Go back]
3. Latencies: pride, ignorance, lust, aversion, uncertainty, delusion, and craving for becoming. [Go back]
4. Hindrances: sensual desire, ill will, sloth & torpor, restlessness & anxiety, and uncertainty. [Go back]
5. The root of becoming: craving. [Go back]
* * *
§23. [Sister Ambapali:]
Black was my hair
-- the color of bees --
& curled at the tips;
with age, it looked like coarse hemp.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Fragrant, like a perfumed basket
filled with flowers: my coiffure.
With age it smelled musty,
like animal fur.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Thick & lush, like
a well-tended grove,
made splendid, the tips elaborate
with comb & pin.
With age, it grew thin
& bare here & there.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Adorned with gold &
delicate pins,
it was splendid, ornamented with braids.
Now, with age,
that head has gone bald.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Curved, as if well-drawn
by an artist,
my brows were once splendid.
With age, they droop down in folds.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Radiant, brilliant like
jewels,
my eyes: elongated, black -- deep black.
With age, they're no longer splendid.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like a delicate peak,
my nose
was splendid in the prime of my youth.
With age, it's like a long pepper.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like bracelets -- well-fashioned,
well-finished --
my ears were once splendid.
With age, they droop down in folds.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like plaintain buds
in their color,
my teeth were once splendid.
With age, they're broken & yellowed.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like that of a cuckoo
in the dense jungle,
flitting through deep forest thickets:
sweet was the tone of my voice.
With age, it cracks here & there.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Smooth -- like a conch
shell well-polished --
my neck was once splendid.
With age, it's broken down, bent.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like rounded door-bars
-- both of them --
my arms were once splendid.
With age, they're like dried up patali trees.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Adorned with gold &
delicate rings,
my hands were once splendid.
With age, they're like onions & tubers.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Swelling, round, firm,
& high,
both my breasts were once splendid.
In the drought of old age, they dangle
like empty old water bags.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Like a sheet of gold,
well-burnished,
my body was splendid.
Now it's covered with very fine wrinkles.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Smooth in their lines,
like an elephant's trunk,
both my thighs were once splendid.
With age, they're like knotted bamboo.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
Adorned with gold &
delicate anklets,
my calves were once splendid.
With age, they're like sesame sticks.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.
As if they were stuffed
with soft cotton,
both my feet were once splendid.
With age, they're shriveled & cracked.
The truth of the Truth-speaker's words
doesn't change.