Samyutta Nikaya - Satipatthana Samyutta I
SN 47.6
Sakunagghi Sutta
The Hawk
Translated from the Pali by
Thanissaro BhikkhuPTS: S v 146
CDB ii 1632
Source: Transcribed from a file provided by the translator.
Copyright © 1997 Thanissaro Bhikkhu.
Access to Insight edition © 1997
For free distribution. This work may be republished, reformatted,
reprinted, and redistributed in any medium. It is the author's wish,
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"Once a hawk suddenly swooped down on a quail and seized it. Then the quail, as
it was being carried off by the hawk, lamented, 'O, just my bad luck and lack of
merit that I was wandering out of my proper range and into the territory of
others! If only I had kept to my proper range today, to my own ancestral
territory, this hawk would have been no match for me in battle.'
"'But what is your proper range?' the hawk asked. 'What is your own ancestral
territory?'
"'A newly plowed field with clumps of earth all turned up.'
"So the hawk, without bragging about its own strength, without mentioning its
own strength, let go of the quail. 'Go, quail, but even when you have gone there
you won't escape me.'
"Then the quail, having gone to a newly plowed field with clumps of earth all
turned up and climbing up on top of a large clump of earth, stood taunting the
hawk, 'Now come and get me, you hawk! Now come and get me, you hawk!'
"So the hawk, without bragging about its own strength, without mentioning its
own strength, folded its two wings and suddenly swooped down toward the quail.
When the quail knew, 'The hawk is coming at me full speed,' it slipped behind
the clump of earth, and right there the hawk shattered its own breast.
"This is what happens to anyone who wanders into what is not his proper range
and is the territory of others.
"For this reason, you should not wander into what is not your proper range and
is the territory of others. In one who wanders into what is not his proper range
and is the territory of others, Mara gains an opening, Mara gains a foothold.
And what, for a monk, is not his proper range and is the territory of others?
The five strands of sensuality. Which five? Forms cognizable by the eye —
agreeable, pleasing, charming, endearing, fostering desire, enticing. Sounds
cognizable by the ear... Aromas cognizable by the nose... Flavors cognizable by
the tongue... Tactile sensations cognizable by the body — agreeable, pleasing,
charming, endearing, fostering desire, enticing. These, for a monk, are not his
proper range and are the territory of others.
"Wander, monks, in what is your proper range, your own ancestral territory. In
one who wanders in what is his proper range, his own ancestral territory, Mara
gains no opening, Mara gains no foothold. And what, for a monk, is his proper
range, his own ancestral territory? The four frames of reference. Which four?
There is the case where a monk remains focused on the body in & of itself —
ardent, alert, & mindful — putting aside greed & distress with reference to the
world. He remains focused on feelings in & of themselves... mind in & of
itself... mental qualities in & of themselves — ardent, alert, & mindful —
putting aside greed & distress with reference to the world. This, for a monk, is
his proper range, his own ancestral territory."
See also: SN 47.7
SN 47.7
Makkata Sutta
The Monkey
"There are in the Himalayas, the king of mountains, difficult, uneven areas
where neither monkeys nor human beings wander. There are difficult, uneven areas
where monkeys wander, but not human beings. There are level stretches of land,
delightful, where both monkeys and human beings wander. In such spots hunters
set a tar trap in the monkeys' tracks, in order to catch some monkeys. Those
monkeys who are not foolish or careless by nature, when they see the tar trap,
avoid it from afar. But any monkey who is foolish & careless by nature comes up
to the tar trap and grabs it with its paw. He gets stuck there. Thinking, 'I'll
free my paw,' he grabs it with his other paw. He gets stuck there. Thinking,
'I'll free both of my paws,' he grabs it with his foot. He gets stuck there.
Thinking, 'I'll free both of my paws and my foot,' he grabs it with his other
foot. He gets stuck there. Thinking, 'I'll free both of my paws and my feet as
well,' he grabs it with his mouth. He gets stuck there. So the monkey, snared in
five ways, lies there whimpering, having fallen on misfortune, fallen on ruin, a
prey to whatever the hunter wants to do with him. Then the hunter, without
releasing the monkey, skewers him right there, picks him up, and goes off as he
likes.
"This is what happens to anyone who wanders into what is not his proper range
and is the territory of others.
"For this reason, you should not wander into what is not your proper range and
is the territory of others. In one who wanders into what is not his proper range
and is the territory of others, Mara gains an opening, Mara gains a foothold.
And what, for a monk, is not his proper range and is the territory of others?
The five strands of sensuality. Which five? Forms cognizable by the eye —
agreeable, pleasing, charming, endearing, fostering desire, enticing. Sounds
cognizable by the ear... Aromas cognizable by the nose... Flavors cognizable by
the tongue... Tactile sensations cognizable by the body — agreeable, pleasing,
charming, endearing, fostering desire, enticing. These, for a monk, are not his
proper range and are the territory of others.
"Wander, monks, in what is your proper range, your own ancestral territory. In
one who wanders in what is his proper range, his own ancestral territory, Mara
gains no opening, Mara gains no foothold. And what, for a monk, is his proper
range, his own ancestral territory? The four frames of reference. Which four?
There is the case where a monk remains focused on the body in & of itself —
ardent, alert, & mindful — putting aside greed & distress with reference to the
world. He remains focused on feelings in & of themselves... mind in & of
itself... mental qualities in & of themselves — ardent, alert, & mindful —
putting aside greed & distress with reference to the world. This, for a monk, is
his proper range, his own ancestral territory."
See also: SN 47.6
SN 47.8
Suda Sutta
The Cook
"Suppose that there is a foolish, inexperienced, unskillful cook who has
presented a king or a king's minister with various kinds of curry: mainly sour,
mainly bitter, mainly peppery, mainly sweet, alkaline or non-alkaline, salty or
non-salty. He does not take note of1 his master, thinking, 'Today my master
likes this curry, or he reaches out for that curry, or he takes a lot of this
curry, or he praises that curry. Today my master likes mainly sour curry...
Today my master likes mainly bitter curry... mainly peppery curry... mainly
sweet curry... alkaline curry... non-alkaline curry... salty curry... Today my
master likes non-salty curry, or he reaches out for non-salty curry, or he takes
a lot of non-salty curry, or he praises non-salty curry.' As a result, he is not
rewarded with clothing or wages or gifts. Why is that? Because the foolish,
inexperienced, unskillful cook does not pick up on the theme of his own master.
"In the same way, there are cases where a foolish, inexperienced, unskillful
monk remains focused on the body in & of itself — ardent, alert, & mindful —
putting aside greed & distress with reference to the world. As he remains thus
focused on the body in & of itself, his mind does not become concentrated, his
defilements2 are not abandoned. He does not take note of that fact.3 He remains
focused on feelings in & of themselves... the mind in & of itself... mental
qualities in & of themselves — ardent, alert, & mindful — putting aside greed &
distress with reference to the world. As he remains thus focused on mental
qualities in & of themselves, his mind does not become concentrated, his
defilements are not abandoned. He does not take note of that fact. As a result,
he is not rewarded with a pleasant abiding here & now, nor with mindfulness &
alertness. Why is that? Because the foolish, inexperienced, unskillful monk does
not take note of his own mind.4
"Now suppose that there is a wise, experienced, skillful cook who has presented
a king or a king's minister with various kinds of curry: mainly sour, mainly
bitter, mainly peppery, mainly sweet, alkaline or non-alkaline, salty or
non-salty. He takes note of his master, thinking, 'Today my master likes this
curry, or he reaches out for that curry, or he takes a lot of this curry or he
praises that curry. Today my master likes mainly sour curry... Today my master
likes mainly bitter curry... mainly peppery curry... mainly sweet curry...
alkaline curry... non-alkaline curry... salty curry... Today my master likes
non-salty curry, or he reaches out for non-salty curry, or he takes a lot of
non-salty curry, or he praises non-salty curry.' As a result, he is rewarded
with clothing, wages, & gifts. Why is that? Because the wise, experienced,
skillful cook picks up on the theme of his own master.
"In the same way, there are cases where a wise, experienced, skillful monk
remains focused on the body in & of itself... feelings in & of themselves... the
mind in & of itself... mental qualities in & of themselves — ardent, alert, &
mindful — putting aside greed & distress with reference to the world. As he
remains thus focused on mental qualities in & of themselves, his mind becomes
concentrated, his defilements are abandoned. He takes note of that fact. As a
result, he is rewarded with a pleasant abiding here & now, together with
mindfulness & alertness. Why is that? Because the wise, experienced, skillful
monk picks up on the theme of his own mind."
Notes
1. Lit.: "pick up on the theme of."
2. Comy: the five Hindrances (niivara.na).
3. Or: "does not pick up on that theme."
4. Or: "does not pick up on the theme of his own mind."
SN 47.10
Bhikkhunupassaya Sutta
Directed and Undirected Meditation
(excerpt)
The venerable Ananda arose early one morning, and taking up his robe and bowl
approached a certain settlement of nuns, where he sat down on a seat that had
been prepared. A number of nuns approached the venerable Ananda, and after
greeting him, sat down to one side. So seated, these nuns said this to the
venerable Ananda: "There are here, Ananda sir, a number of nuns who abide with
minds well established in the four foundations of mindfulness. Their
understanding is becoming ever greater and more excellent."
"So it is, Sisters, so it is!" replied Ananda. "Indeed for anybody, Sisters,
whether monk or nun, who abides with a mind well established in the four
foundations of mindfulness — it is to be expected that their understanding
becomes ever greater and more excellent."
[Ananda later relates this exchange to the Buddha, who approves of his response
and then elaborates:]
Here, Ananda, a monk abides contemplating body as body* — ardent, fully aware,
mindful — leading away the unhappiness that comes from wanting the things of the
world. And for one who is abiding contemplating body as body,* a bodily object
arises, or bodily distress, or mental sluggishness, that scatters his mind
outward. Then the monk should direct his mind to some satisfactory image. When
the mind is directed to some satisfactory image, happiness is born. From this
happiness, joy is then born. With a joyful mind, the body relaxes. A relaxed
body feels content, and the mind of one content becomes concentrated. He then
reflects: "The purpose for which I directed my my mind has been accomplished. So
now I shall withdraw [directed attention from the image]." He withdraws, and no
longer thinks upon or thinks about [the image]. He understands: "I am not
thinking upon or thinking about [anything]. Inwardly mindful, I am content."
This is directed meditation.
And what is undirected meditation? Not directing his mind outward, a monk
understands: "My mind is not directed outward." He understands: "Not focused on
before or after; free; undirected." And he understands: "I abide observing body
as body — ardent, fully aware, mindful — I am content." This is undirected
meditation.
And so, Ananda, I have taught directed meditation; and I have taught undirected
meditation. Whatever is to be done by a teacher with compassion for the welfare
of students, that has been done by me out of compassion for you. Here are the
roots of trees. Here are empty places. Get down and meditate. Don't be lazy.
Don't become one who is later remorseful. This is my instruction to you.
Note
* These passages are repeated for the other three foundations of mindfulness:
feelings as feelings; mind as mind; mental states as mental states.
Translator's note
This text is interesting for a number of reasons, though it seems not to be
particularly well known or often referred to.
The framing story shows clearly that women were diligent and successful
practitioners of insight meditation in the Buddha's time, and that they were
well-supported in this pursuit. Ananda, the Buddha's cousin and life-long
assistant, was a great champion of the nuns' cause and would often visit
communities of nuns to encourage their dhamma practice. The Buddha seems to take
the opportunity of Ananda's report to expound on some of the details of
mindfulness technique.
What he says here about directed and undirected meditation is particularly
interesting in light of the modern integration of metta practice with vipassana
practice. The Buddha seems to acknowledge that mindful awareness is sometimes
difficult to come by, and that there are times when one's "mind becomes
scattered" by the arising of challenging mind states (has this ever happened to
you?).
His response here is not the warrior's tone sometimes found elsewhere in the
texts, whereby the practitioner should just overcome the unwholesome thoughts
and rouse up sufficient heroic energy to re-establish mindfulness. Nor is it the
gentler response we often hear in the dhamma hall, to just be aware of what is
arising, without judgment of any kind, gently returning our attention to the
breath or other primary object of meditation. Rather the Buddha's suggestion is
a deliberate re-direction of our attention to a "satisfactory image."
The pali words here are pasadaniya nimitta. A nimitta is an image or
manifestation that appears in the mind — something akin to a sign, a vision or
an appearance of an object in the "mind's eye." It is the term used in
visualization meditations, and even has a slight connotation of "conjuring up"
something in the mind.
The adjective pasadaniya is translated by Woodward in the PTS edition as
"pleasurable," but this sort of term is too easily misconstrued in Buddhist
contexts. I don't think the Buddha is suggesting here that we seek something
pleasant in order to avoid the arising discomfort, but is rather suggesting a
short term strategy for the practical disarming of the mind's defense
mechanisms.
The commentator Buddhaghosa suggest that the image of the Buddha might be an
example of a satisfactory image, but probably anything wholesome and not
productive of strong craving (of attachment or aversion) will do. The idea is
just to re-direct the mind to flow around the obstacle that has appeared, but
not to use something that will itself become another obstacle.
The practical effect of this re-direction of attention is the natural calming of
the mind and relaxation of the body. Only from tranquillity can true alertness
arise — otherwise the mind's attentiveness is just busy or restless.
But as the ensuing passage confirms, this excursion into the deliberate
cultivation of a specific image can be abandoned as soon as its mission (the
restoration of concentration) has been fulfilled. Insight meditation has never
been about cultivating blissful states of mind or body for their own sake.
But as a skillful means for helping our understanding "become ever greater and
more excellent," it seems to be a useful technique. I think we need to rely upon
the guidance of experienced meditation teachers, however, to help us discern
when it is appropriate to apply this strategy. The mind is so capricious: it may
turn to a more pleasurable object of awareness just to escape the growing pains
of evolving insight; or it may mislead itself into thinking it is practicing
undirected meditation when it is actually just "spacing out."
One important thing to notice about this passage is that the undirected
meditation is occurring squarely in the context of the foundations of
mindfulness. This is not "object-less awareness" (which is not even possible in
the early Buddhist models of mind), or the "awareness of awareness itself" that
is mentioned in some traditions.
The meditator understands his awareness to be free and undirected, while
contemplating body as body, feeling as feeling, mind as mind and mental states
as mental states. What distinguishes undirected meditation from directed
meditation is simply the role of intention in the process.
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