Guest guest Posted March 4, 2003 Report Share Posted March 4, 2003 Hi Gloria - This one is a wonderful perspective! love, joyce , "Gloria Lee" <glee@c...> wrote: > Nibbana by Thanissaro Bhikkhu 1996 Thanissaro Bhikkhu > For free distribution only. > > You may reprint this work for free distribution. You may re-format and redistribute this work for use on computers and computer networks provided that you charge no fees for its distribution or use. Otherwise, all rights reserved. > - ------------- > > We all know what happens when a fire goes out. The flames die down and the fire is gone for good. So when we first learn that the name for the goal of Buddhist practice, nibbana (nirvana), literally means the extinguishing of a fire, it's hard to imagine a deadlier image for a spiritual goal: utter annihilation. It turns out, though, that this reading of the concept is a mistake in translation, not so much of a word as of an image. What did an extinguished fire represent to the Indians of the Buddha's day? Anything but annihilation. > > According to the ancient Brahmans, when a fire was extinguished it went into a state of latency. Rather than ceasing to exist, it became dormant and in that state -- unbound from any particular fuel -- it became diffused throughout the cosmos. When the Buddha used the image to explain nibbana to the Indian Brahmans of his day, he bypassed the question of whether an extinguished fire continues to exist or not, and focused instead on the impossibility of defining a fire that doesn't burn: thus his statement that the person who has gone totally "out" can't be described. > > However, when teaching his own disciples, the Buddha used nibbana more as an image of freedom. Apparently, all Indians at the time saw burning fire as agitated, dependent, and trapped, both clinging and being stuck to its fuel as it burned. To ignite a fire, one had to "seize" it. When fire let go of its fuel, it was "freed," released from its agitation, dependence, and entrapment -- calm and unconfined. This is why Pali poetry repeatedly uses the image of extinguished fire as a metaphor for freedom. In fact, this metaphor is part of a pattern of fire imagery that involves two other related terms as well. Upadana, or clinging, also refers to the sustenance a fire takes from its fuel. Khandha means not only one of the five "heaps" (form, feeling, perception, thought processes, and consciousness) that define all conditioned experience, but also the trunk of a tree. Just as fire goes out when it stops clinging and taking sustenance from wood, so the mind is freed when it stops clinging to the khandhas. > > Thus the image underlying nibbana is one of freedom. The Pali commentaries support this point by tracing the word nibbana to its verbal root, which means "unbinding." What kind of unbinding? The texts describe two levels. One is the unbinding in this lifetime, symbolized by a fire that has gone out but whose embers are still warm. This stands for the enlightened arahant, who is conscious of sights and sounds, sensitive to pleasure and pain, but freed from passion, aversion, and delusion. The second level of unbinding, symbolized by a fire so totally out that its embers have grown cold, is what the arahant experiences after this life. All input from the senses cools away and he/she is totally freed from even the subtlest stresses and limitations of existence in space and time. > > The Buddha insists that this level is indescribable, even in terms of existence or nonexistence, because words work only for things that have limits. All he really says about it -- apart from images and metaphors -- is that one can have foretastes of the experience in this lifetime, and that it's the ultimate happiness, something truly worth knowing. > > So the next time you watch a fire going out, see it not as a case of annihilation, but as a lesson in how freedom is to be found in letting go. > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted March 5, 2003 Report Share Posted March 5, 2003 SONG OF FREEDOM True freedom places on us the uncomfortable burden of ever-fresh responsible decisions, which have to be guided by mindfulness, wisdom and human sympathy. Sutta Nipata Uraga Sutta: The Serpent 1. He who can curb his wrath as soon as it arises, as a timely antidote will check snake's venom that so quickly spreads, -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 2. He who entirely cuts off his lust as entering a pond one uproots lotus plants, -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 3. He who entirely cuts off his craving by drying up its fierce and rapid flow, -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 4. He who entirely blots out conceit as the wind demolishes a fragile bamboo bridge, -- such a monk gives up the= here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 5. He who does not find core or substance in any of the realms of being, like flowers which are vainly sought in fig trees that bear none, -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 6. He who bears no grudges in his heart, transcending all this "thus" and "otherwise," -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 7. He who has burned out his evil thoughts, entirely cut them off within his heart, -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as the serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 8. He who neither goes too far nor lags behind, entirely transcending the diffuseness of the world, -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 9. He who neither goes too far nor lags behind and knows about the world: "This is all unreal," -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 10. He who neither goes too far nor lags behind, greedless he knows: "This is all unreal," -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 11. He who neither goes too far nor lags behind, lust-free he knows: "This is all unreal," -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 12. He who neither goes too far nor lags behind, hate-free he knows: "This is all unreal," -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 13. He who neither goes too far nor lags behind, delusion-free he knows: "This is all unreal," -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 14. He who has no dormant tendencies whatever, whose unwholesome roots have been expunged, -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 15. States born of anxiety he harbors none which may condition his return to earth, -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 16. States born of attachment he harbors none which cause his bondage to existence, -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. 17. He who has the five hindrances discarded, doubt-free and serene, and free of inner barbs, -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. I: Reflections on the Refrain The Refrain: -- such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. The shedding of the serpent's old skin is done in four ways: (1) in following the law of its own species, (2) through disgust, (3) with the help of a support, and (4) with effort. The "law of his own species" is virtue. Standing firm in his own law of virtue, and seeing the misery involved, he becomes disgusted with the "old worn-out skin" of the "here and the beyond," comprising (such pairs of opposites) as his own and others' personalized existence, etc., which are productive of suffering. Thus he becomes disgusted and, seeking the support of a noble friend, (a wise teacher and meditation master), he summons his utmost strength by way of the path factor, right effort. Daily practice of alienation from what has been understood to be actually alien will wear thin the bondage to "self" and the world, loosen more and more clinging's tight grip, until, like the serpent's worn-out skin, it falls away almost effortlessly. Just as, according to similes given by the Buddha, the handle of a hatchet is wasted away by constant use; just as the strongest ship-ropes will become brittle by constant exposure to wind, sun and rain and finally fall asunder -- so will constant acts of giving up, of letting go, wear thin and fragile the once so stout and unbreakable fetters of craving and ignorance, until one day they drop off completely. By such an act of "shedding the old skin," no "violence against nature" is done; it is a lawful process of growing, of outgrowing that which is no longer an object of attachment -- just as the old skin is no longer attached to the snake's body. Only in such a way can a person vanquish those passionate urges and deceptive notions of his, which are so powerful and so deeply rooted. In the act of ultimate liberation, nothing is violently broken which was not already detached from the living tissues of mind and body or only quite loosely joined with them. -- this hollow concept of an imaginary self which had hidden for so long the true nature of body and mind. Mind-and-body are now seen as they truly are. Now one no longer misconceives them for what they are not and no longer expects of them what they cannot give: lasting happiness. How big a burden of anxiety, fear, frustration and insatiate craving will have been discarded! How light and free the heart can become if one sheds attachment to what is not one's own! What actually has to be shed is this attachment rooted in the ego-illusion. Yet it is to that hardest task that the Master summons us: "Give up what is not yours! And what is not yours? The body is not yours: give it up! Giving it up will be for your weal and happiness. Feelings, perceptions, volitions and consciousness are not yours: give them up! Giving them up will be for your weal and happiness." contemplation can be helpful: 1. We look at our skin encasing the body: it is now firm and taut, healthily alive, our warm blood pulsating beneath it. Imagine it now lying before you, empty and limp like a snake's discarded slough. In such a manner you may visualize the feature skin among the thirty two parts of the body, a meditation recommended by the Buddha. When thus brought vividly to life, it will help you to alienate and detach yourself from the body. 2. Just as the serpent does not hesitate to fulfill the biological "law of its kind" in shedding its old skin, so right renunciation will not waver or shrink from those acts of giving up which right understanding of reality demands. Just as the serpent does not mourn over the loss of its worn-out slough, so right renunciation has no regrets when it discards what has been seen as void of value and substance and replaces it by something new and more beautiful: the happiness of letting go, the exhilaration of the freedom won, the serenity of insight and the radiance of a mind purified and calmed. It is the growing strength of this new experience which will gradually clear the road to final emancipation. 3. According to the commentary quoted by us, the snake feels disgust towards its old skin when the sloughing is not yet complete and parts of the old skin still adhere to its body. Similarly, the disgust felt towards residual attachments and defilements will give to the disciple an additional urgency in his struggle for final liberation. Such disgust is a symptom of his growing detachment. Buddha's compassionate message of an open way to final deliverance from suffering. -----love, Karta http://santmat-meditation.net/iam "Gloria Lee" <glee@c...> wrote: > Nibbana by Thanissaro Bhikkhu 1996 Thanissaro Bhikkhu > For free distribution only. > > You may reprint this work for free distribution. You may re-format and re= distribute this work for use on computers and computer networks provided tha= t you charge no fees for its distribution or use. Otherwise, all rights rese= rved. > ------= -------- > > We all know what happens when a fire goes out. The flames die down and t= he fire is gone for good. So when we first learn that the name for the goal = of Buddhist practice, nibbana (nirvana), literally means the extinguishing o= f a fire, it's hard to imagine a deadlier image for a spiritual goal: utter = annihilation. It turns out, though, that this reading of the concept is a mi= stake in translation, not so much of a word as of an image. What did an exti= nguished fire represent to the Indians of the Buddha's day? Anything but ann= ihilation. > > According to the ancient Brahmans, when a fire was extinguished it went i= nto a state of latency. Rather than ceasing to exist, it became dormant and = in that state -- unbound from any particular fuel -- it became diffused thro= ughout the cosmos. When the Buddha used the image to explain nibbana to the = Indian Brahmans of his day, he bypassed the question of whether an extinguis= hed fire continues to exist or not, and focused instead on the impossibility= of defining a fire that doesn't burn: thus his statement that the person wh= o has gone totally "out" can't be described. > > However, when teaching his own disciples, the Buddha used nibbana more as= an image of freedom. Apparently, all Indians at the time saw burning fire a= s agitated, dependent, and trapped, both clinging and being stuck to its fue= l as it burned. To ignite a fire, one had to "seize" it. When fire let go of= its fuel, it was "freed," released from its agitation, dependence, and entr= apment -- calm and unconfined. This is why Pali poetry repeatedly uses the i= mage of extinguished fire as a metaphor for freedom. In fact, this metaphor = is part of a pattern of fire imagery that involves two other related terms a= s well. Upadana, or clinging, also refers to the sustenance a fire takes fro= m its fuel. Khandha means not only one of the five "heaps" (form, feeling, p= erception, thought processes, and consciousness) that define all conditioned= experience, but also the trunk of a tree. Just as fire goes out when it sto= ps clinging and taking sustenance from wood, so the mind is freed when it st= ops clinging to the khandhas. > > Thus the image underlying nibbana is one of freedom. The Pali commentarie= s support this point by tracing the word nibbana to its verbal root, which m= eans "unbinding." What kind of unbinding? The texts describe two levels. One= is the unbinding in this lifetime, symbolized by a fire that has gone out b= ut whose embers are still warm. This stands for the enlightened arahant, who= is conscious of sights and sounds, sensitive to pleasure and pain, but free= d from passion, aversion, and delusion. The second level of unbinding, symbo= lized by a fire so totally out that its embers have grown cold, is what the = arahant experiences after this life. All input from the senses cools away an= d he/she is totally freed from even the subtlest stresses and limitations of= existence in space and time. > > The Buddha insists that this level is indescribable, even in terms of exi= stence or nonexistence, because words work only for things that have limits.= All he really says about it -- apart from images and metaphors -- is that o= ne can have foretastes of the experience in this lifetime, and that it's the= ultimate happiness, something truly worth knowing. > > So the next time you watch a fire going out, see it not as a case of anni= hilation, but as a lesson in how freedom is to be found in letting go. > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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