3. Page 319, At the entrance to the wood… This whole section,
from this paragraph until the end of the chapter — minus the
interpolated characters of Vāsitthī and Sātāgira, and with
King Pasenadi instead of King Udena — appears at M 86.9‐13;
(see Appendix 3).
4. Page 322, and, the very next day, I shaved my head
and became a bhikkhunī… According to the Vināya, the
monastic rule, a woman generally needed both to have been a
probationer (sikkhamānā) for at least two years, and a novice
(sāmanerī) for a while, before the full ordination was granted.
However, just as with men being given the “Ehi, bhikkhu”
ordination by the Buddha, without any other kind of ceremony
(see also above, Chapter 34, note 8), it appears that the Buddha
also allowed certain women to go forth without the usual
preliminaries.
Interestingly enough, the Elder Nun Vāsitthī — whose
‘Song of Enlightenment’ appears at verse §51 in the Therīgāthā,
(Thig. 133‐8) — seems to have been given ordination in this
way. Other notable Elder Nuns who were similarly honoured
were Bhaddā Therī, (who was ordained by the Buddha saying
“Ehi, Bhaddā,” Thig. 108) Sujātā Therī and Anopamā Therī.
Verses of the Therī Vāsitthī:
Out of my mind
deranged with love for my lost son.
Out of my senses.
Naked — streaming hair dishevelled
I wandered here and there
lived on rubbish heaps
in a cemetery, on the roadway
I wandered three whole years —
desolation
hunger and thirst.
Then in blessèd Mithilā
I saw the Buddha —
banisher of fear.
With compassion he calmed me
teaching me the Dharma.
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I heeded all he said,
then left the world
with all its cares behind.
Following where he taught:
the Path to great good fortune.
Now all my griefs have been cut out
uprooted
they have reached their end
for now at last
I know the grounds
from which sprang all my miseries.”
CHAPTER 41: THE SIMPLE CONTEMPLATION
1. Page 325, One day I took my stand… The type of
incident described in this paragraph occurs a few times in the
Pāli Canon. One of the most notable is that of the visit by the
bhikkhu Ratthapāla to the house of his parents. They had been
loath to let him go forth and, when he came to their house for
alms, they failed to recognise him and thought: “Our only son,
dear and belovèd, was made to go forth by these bald‐pated
wanderers,” and they hurled abuse at him. Nearby a slave‐woman
was throwing away some stale porridge so Ratthapāla said:
“Sister if that stuff is to be thrown away, then pour it into my
bowl here.” She then recognised who it was and alerted the
household. When his father tracked him down, and begged him
to come and eat at their house instead, he replied: “I went to
your house but received their neither alms nor a polite refusal;
instead I received only abuse.” He then declines the offer of a
meal, saying that he has now had his food for the day.
He is invited for the meal next day, but when he goes to
his parents’ house he is confronted with a vast pile of gold coins
and bullion, together with all of his former wives arrayed in
sumptuous finery. All of these he declines with a steadfast heart,
eventually retorting: “Householder, if there is a meal to be given,
then give it. Do not harass me.” Before he takes leave from
them he utters some spontaneous verses, ending with the words:
“The deer‐hunter set out the snare
But the deer did not spring the trap;
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We ate the bait and now depart
Leaving the hunters to lament.”
M 82.17‐25
From this account one can see what a work‐out such
visits can be!
2. Page 326, “Sister, the Simsapā wood is delightful…
These latter sentences are taken, almost verbatim, from the
Mahāgosinga Sutta, at M 32.4 (see Chapter 35, note §1). In the
original, however, the statement is made by the Elder Sāriputta
to Ānanda and the trees are the fragrant Sāla, rather than Simsapā.
3. Page 328, to receive a theme of contemplation which
would be a spiritual guide… This is an interesting picture
woven here by K.G.: there’s no evidence of such a tradition —
of each disciple receiving a special theme of contemplation —
either in the Theravāda texts or in common usage in the
Theravādan Buddhist countries. It’s true that when the teacher
is about to go off on his/her travels, many of a monastery’s
residents and supporters will come to pay their respects, and
perhaps at that time receive some particularly cogent or personal
piece of advice (knowing that any parting can mean “Goodbye
forever”) but such a systematic, one‐to‐one contact is unknown.
The pattern described here has almost certainly been
derived from the Zen Buddhist tradition; originally from China
and later established in Korea and Japan. In this tradition there
is a particular method of meditative inquiry known as ‘Investigating
the koān’ where the latter word refers to a story, a question
or conundrum that the meditator uses to help open up the mind
and heart to realities greater than our conditioned thinking and
emotions normally allow. The practice began in China and was
particularly developed in the Ch’an monasteries of the great
master Lin Chi. In Japan the word ‘Ch’an’ became ‘Zen’, and
‘Lin Chi’ became ‘Rinzai.’ The word koān (or kung‐an in
Chinese) literally means ‘public record’ and refers to this type
of meditation; the substance of the enquiry is called, in Chinese,
the hua t’ou.
Here is the great Chinese master Hsü Yün (1839‐1959)
describing the practice: “There are many hua t’ous, such as: ‘All
things are returnable to One, to what is that One returnable?”;
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