tîrath men to sab pânî hai

THERE is nothing but water at the holy bathing places; and I know that they are useless, for I have bathed in them.
The images are all lifeless, they cannot speak; I know, for I have cried aloud to them.
The Purana and the Koran are mere words; lifting up the curtain, I have seen.
Kabîr gives utterance to the words of experience; and he knows very well that all other things are untrue.

Wayanad Wildlife Sanctuary (Kerala)

The Wisdom of the Ancients?

The idea that we live in an age of decline is such a common complaint that we almost take it for granted. And the evidence seems to be that people have repeatedly succumbed to this idea in very different times and in very different places. Two and a half thousand years ago, over in China, Confucius looked back to the past and the great sage-kings Yao, Shun, and Yu, and – wondering what had gone wrong – thought “My, wouldn’t it be good if rulers today could be like them?” These days, now that Confucius is himself an ancient, we look back at him and think, “My, wouldn’t it be good if sages today could be like him.” Meanwhile, in India, certain early Buddhist texts make the same complaint: things aren’t what they used to be. The world is already in a state of decline. And today Buddhists look back and say to themselves, “Well, folks back then were really pretty splendid… We’re just not up to it.”
It appears that the ancients are much more magnificent figures than we ourselves are or ever could be. And such dreams of magnificent ages of wisdom located in the deep past are seductive. When we succumb to them, we might even allow ourselves to think (but perhaps not to admit too freely) that back then, if we had been around, we’d probably have been magnificent too. But then we shrug. What can we do? We are necessarily the children of our age.

Whilst I think that this tendency to overestimate our forebears is largely unhelpful, I do however think that there is a connection between wisdom and the past, although it is not necessarily the connection that we might think it is. Wisdom – or the kind of everyday wisdom that is worth wanting – may not have been any more prevalent in the past; but wisdom may turn out to depend upon some sense of the past. Here I’m thinking of Walter Benjamin’s definition of wisdom: counsel woven into the fabric of everyday life. Stories, accumulated experiences, attention to the world… these are the things that we weave together into the fabric of our lives to find counsel. The forgetting of the past does us no favours if we cherish wisdom (as philosophers claim they do); but this does not mean that folks in the past were in general any more or less wise than we are now. And if they seem so, the reason is probably that they are, in a very real sense, fictional characters. Failing to see this leads us into the trap of thinking that way back then, everything was somehow suffused in a holy and unworldly glow. This, in turn, can lead on the one hand to a kind of dismal perspective on the present, and on the other hand to unreasonable expectations of what the limits of human possibility might be.
(. . .) If we allow ourselves to be seduced by stories of incense-perfumed ancients who drift around soft smiles, beaming out rays of light that reflect their perfect virtue, then we are at risk of finding ourselves aspiring to a kind of wisdom that is – and never has been – possible. More

Rana Una (Serendib)

Karaniya Metta Sutta (Good Will)

This is to be done by one skilled in aims
who wants to break through to the state of peace:
Be capable, upright, & straightforward,
easy to instruct, gentle, & not conceited,
content & easy to support,
with few duties, living lightly,
with peaceful faculties, masterful,
modest, & no greed for supporters.

Do not do the slightest thing
that the wise would later censure.

Think: Happy, at rest,
may all beings be happy at heart.
Whatever beings there may be,
weak or strong, without exception,
long, large,
middling, short,
subtle, blatant,
seen & unseen,
near & far,
born & seeking birth:
May all beings be happy at heart.

Let no one deceive another
or despise anyone anywhere,
or through anger or irritation
wish for another to suffer.

As a mother would risk her life
to protect her child, her only child,
even so should one cultivate a limitless heart
with regard to all beings.
With good will for the entire cosmos,
cultivate a limitless heart:
Above, below, & all around,
unobstructed, without enmity or hate.
Whether standing, walking,
sitting, or lying down,
as long as one is alert,
one should be resolved on this mindfulness.
This is called a sublime abiding
here & now.

Not taken with views,
but virtuous & consummate in vision,
having subdued desire for sensual pleasures,
one never again
will lie in the womb.

Kaha Una (Yellow bamboo)

Kamma Sutta (Action)

I have heard that on one occasion the Blessed One was staying near Savatthi, in Jeta's Grove, Anathapindika's monastery. Now at that time a certain monk was sitting not far from the Blessed One, his legs crossed, his body held erect, enduring sharp, piercing, racking pains that were the result of old kamma — mindful, alert, without suffering. The Blessed One saw him sitting not far away, his legs crossed, his body held erect, enduring sharp, piercing, racking pains that were the result of old kamma — mindful, alert, without suffering.

Then, on realizing the significance of that, the Blessed One on that occasion exclaimed:


For the monk who has left
all kamma
behind,
shaking off the dust of the past,
steady, without longing,
Such:
there's no point in telling
anyone else.

The Wallawwa (Serendib) III

Muccalinda Sutta

I have heard that on one occasion, when the Blessed One was newly Awakened — staying at Uruvela by the banks of the Nerañjara River in the shade of the Muccalinda tree — he sat for seven days in one session, sensitive to the bliss of release. Now at that time a great, out-of-season storm-cloud rose up, with seven days of rainy weather, cold winds, and intense darkness. Then Muccalinda the naga king, leaving his realm and encircling the Blessed One's body seven times with his coils, stood with his great hood spread over the Blessed One, thinking: "Don't let the Blessed One be disturbed by cold. Don't let the Blessed One be disturbed by heat. Don't let the Blessed One be disturbed by the touch of flies, mosquitoes, wind, sun, and creeping things." Then at the end of the seven days the Blessed One emerged from that concentration. Muccalinda the naga king, realizing that the sky had cleared and the storm clouds had left, and unraveled his coils from the body of the Blessed One, changed his appearance and, assuming the form of a youth, stood in front of the Blessed One with hands before his heart in homage.

Then, on realizing the significance of that, the Blessed One on that occasion exclaimed:


Blissful is solitude for one who's content,
who has heard the Dhamma,
who sees.
Blissful is non-affliction with regard for the world,
restraint for living beings.
Blissful is dispassion with regard for the world,
the overcoming of sensuality.
But the subduing of the conceit "I am" —
That is truly
the ultimate bliss.

The Wallawwa (Serendib) II