BUDDHACARITA 5.65: Being Moved to Redness, Reflecting on the Buddha-Nature

⏑⏑−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−¦¦⏑⏑−−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−   Aupacchandasaka

vimśed-yadi yoṣitāṁ manuṣyaḥ praktiṁ svapna-vikāram-īdśaṁ ca |

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dhruvam-atra na vardhayet-pramādaṁ guṇa-saṁkalpa-hatas-tu rāgam-eti || 5.65

5.65

If a man reflected on women's original nature,

And on how such change is wrought by sleep,

Surely by these means he would not be making intoxication grow.

Smitten by a notion of excellence, however, he is moved to redness.

COMMENT:

The ambiguity discussed at length in connection with yesterday's verse continues in today's verse. And the more one digs into today's verse for deeper meaning, the more ambiguity seems to be unearthed; and the more questions seem to be raised.

On the surface, what the prince means by “the original condition of women” (yoṣitāṁ prakṛtiṁ) and “the change brought about by sleep” (svapna-vikāram) are ugliness; and a man's reflection on such female ugliness, the prince is postulating, might be a means of not causing himself to be intoxicated by the redness of sexual desire for women. Reflection or meditation (e.g. “impurity meditation”), in other words, might be a means of preventing the intoxication, or red infatuation, that is liable to grow in a man when he obsesses about a woman's sexual attractiveness.

But below the surface, now that I have sat on it and slept on it – now that changes in my understanding of it have been wrought by dropping off and sleeping – today's verse speaks to me of things that sometimes interest me even more than the sexual attractiveness of women. Now that I have slept on it, today's verse seems to speak of sitting itself; it seems to speak of the Buddha's four noble truths; it seems to speak of the Buddha's ultimate practical teaching of wanting little and being content (alpecchu saṁtuṣṭa); and it seems to speak, conversely, of the mirror principle by which an idealistic young prince expresses his discontented scorn and contempt for others who are smitten by an idealistic notion of excellence.

More than that, today's verse raises questions:

- about human nature and about buddha-nature;

- about what it means consciously to meditate/reflect on one's human/buddha-nature;

- about consciousness and unconsciousness/sleep;

- about the relationship between consciousness and unconsciousness/sleep;

- about the parallel relationship between enlightenment and delusion/intoxication;

- about what it might mean to allow one's delusion to be, or indeed to allow it to grow, by the reflective means of sitting-meditation  (as opposed to using the direct, non-reflective, forceful means of making and doing); 

- about how to counter in practice, using reflective means, the reflexive relationship that exists between idealistic thinking and those unduly excited fear reflexes and emotions which manifest themselves as redness.

Thus, if I am not careful, I shall fall once more into the trap using too many words in the effort to clarify every little nuance that Aśvaghoṣa might or might not have intended to convey. The truth may be that, if Aśvaghoṣa did indeed intend to raise the above questions, he did so clear in the knowledge that they are questions that can't be answered adequately in words.   

So suffice to say the following:

Dogen's instructions for how to sit do not recognize any distinction between the nature of men and the nature of women. Dogen called his instructions 普勧坐禅儀 (Jap: FUKAN-ZAZEN-GI). The 普 (FU) means “universal” or “for everybody everywhere.” So 普勧坐禅儀 means the rule[s] of sitting-meditation recommended for everybody everywhere.

That being so, for a bloke to reflect on what women originally are, in the truest sense, might mean for that bloke to sit on a round black cushion and to investigate what it is for his own self to have two arms, two legs, one head, one heart, two ears, two eyes, two lungs, one body, and one mind.

He might ask what it means, going further, for a bloke to allow his whole self to expand, in a lengthening and widening direction like a tree growing upward and outward?

He might ask what it means to let the neck be free, to let the head go forward and up, to let the back lengthen and widen, while sending the knees forwards and away?

He might ask what it means to allow body and mind spontaneously to drop off, so that one's original face emerges?

A small aircraft flies overhead at an unreasonably low level, while I am sitting out in the garden, and my mind in an instant is as red in tooth and claw as the mind of a snarling wolf. 

VOCABULARY

vimṛśet = 3^rd pers. sg. opt. vi- √ mṛś : to touch (with the hands) , stroke , feel ; to touch (mentally) , be sensible or aware of , perceive , consider , reflect on , deliberate about ; to investigate , examine , try , test

yadi: if

yoṣitām (gen. pl.): f. a girl , maiden , young woman , wife

manuṣyaḥ (nom. sg.): m. a man , human being

prakṛtim (acc. sg.): f. " making or placing before or at first " , the original or natural form or condition of anything , original or primary substance ; nature , character , constitution , temper , disposition

svapna-vikāram (acc. sg. m.): change of form/nature due to sleep

svapna: m. sleep , sleeping

vikāra: m. change of form or nature , alteration or deviation from any natural state , transformation , modification , change (esp. for the worse)

īdṛśam (acc. sg. m.): mfn. endowed with such qualities , such

ca: and

dhruvam: ind. assuredly

atra: ind. in this matter , in this respect

na: not

vardhayet = 3^rd pers. sg. opt. causative vṛdh: to cause to increase or grow , augment , increase , make larger or longer , heighten , strengthen , further , promote; to rear , cherish , foster , bring up ; to elevate , raise to power , cause to prosper or thrive ; to exalt , magnify , glorify (esp. the gods) ,

pramādam (acc. sg.): m. intoxication ; madness , insanity ; error, mistake

guṇa-saṁkalpa-hataḥ (nom. sg. m.): smitten by a conception of her excellence

guṇa: m. good quality , virtue , merit , excellence

saṁkalpa: m. conception or idea or notion formed in the mind or heart , (esp.) will , volition , desire , purpose , definite intention or determination or decision or wish for (with loc. dat. , or ifc.) , sentiment , conviction , persuasion

hata: mfn. struck , beaten (also said of a drum) , smitten , killed , slain

tu: but

rāgam (acc. sg.): m. colour , hue , tint , dye , (esp.) red colour , redness; any feeling or passion , (esp.) love , affection or sympathy for , vehement desire

eti = 3^rd pers. sg. i: to go

我今已覺了 決定出無疑

[Relation to Sanskrit tenuous]

BUDDHACARITA 5.64: Buddhist Views on Beauty

⏑⏑−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−¦¦⏑⏑−−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−   Aupacchandasaka

aśucir-viktaś-ca jīva-loke vanitānām-ayam-īdśaḥ sva-bhāvaḥ |

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vasanābharaṇais-tu vañcyamānaḥ puruṣaḥ strī-viṣayeṣu rāgam-eti || 5.64

5.64

Impure and impaired –

Such, in the living world of men, is the nature of women.

And yet, deceived by clothes and accoutrements,

A man is reddened with love for a woman's sensual charms.

COMMENT:

Read at the most superficial level, today's verse seems to be expressing the kind of view known in Sanskrit as strī-dveṣin, "women-hating,” misogynist.

The Buddhist striver in SN Canto 8 makes the same case that women are inherently unattractive, but they succeed in attracting men through deceptive deployment of clothes (vasanaiḥ) and jewels or – more accurately – accoutrements (ā-bharaṇaiḥ):

Day after day, by means of ablutions, garments, and jewels (vasanaiś-cābharaṇaiś), they prettify an ugliness / Which you, with eyes veiled by ignorance do not see as ugliness: you see it as beauty. // SN8.48 //

Again, it is somewhere around this level of understanding that Sanskrit scholar David Smith, in an article on beauty for the Oxford Journal of Hindu Studies, makes the bold, eye-catching statement:

“Aśvaghoṣa's poems, as Buddhist texts, are necessarily anti-beauty.”

The modern-day British scholar, the ancient Indian striver, and the prince who would be Buddha as quoted by Aśvaghoṣa, thus appear on the surface all to be singing from the same grubby hymn-sheet.

The case for the prince's defence, at this level, would be that he is expressing an unenlightened view simply because he is not yet enlightened.

The unenlightened view, that women are originally ugly by nature, is a general proposition or hypothesis which is readily falsfied by the existence of any woman who is not originally ugly. Aśvaghoṣa has given us one such conspicuous example in SN Canto 4 where he describes Nanda's wife Sundarī as follows:

Wishing to cherish his beloved, he bedecked her there in finery, but not with the aim of making her beautiful -- / For she was so graced already by her own loveliness that she was rather the adorner of her adornments. // SN4.12 //

Enough said, then, about the view which the prince seems to be expressing on the surface. It is a view to be ripped away and discarded. 

Read at a deeper level, the prince's words are expressing not a prejudiced view against women but a real insight, in the real world of living beings (jīva-loke), into the stupidity of the minds of men. The prince's words, then, are not a false view but are a true recognition of how we disappointed men, when our romantic illusions have been dashed,  can't help seeing the nature of women as impure (aśuciḥ) and impaired  (vi-kṛtaḥ). In this case the scorn or contempt the prince is expressing is not scorn or contempt for women, but rather scorn or contempt for the gullibility of men who so readily form romantic views and who are therefore so easily deceived and infatuated.

Read at a deeper level still, the prince's words might after all be saying something about women, not in generic terms but about women as real individuals who exist independently of anybody's views. The prince, even if it is unbeknowns to himself, might be expressing the insight that those individual women in the palace were not (a-) "pure" (śuci), and that they were not immune to being changed for the worse (vi-kṛta) by such inevitabilities as aging, sickness and death.

But going further, when we approach today's verse from the standpoint of sitting, or the sitpoint of standing, sitting on the same round cushion that Aśvaghoṣa sat on, and standing on the surface of the same planet that Aśvaghoṣa stood on, Aśvaghoṣa's real intention may not be to promote investigation of how beautiful women in general originally are or aren't, or to promote investigation of how stupid men in general originally are or aren't, or even to promote consideration of how those individual women in the palace originally were or weren't. 

Aśvaghoṣa's real intention, at least as yours truly has gleaned it this morning, is that – primarily by sitting on the same round cushion that Aśvaghoṣa sat on – each one of us, on an individual basis, should investigate how we ourselves originally are.

Are we originally pure or are we originally impure? 

Are we originally fallen from grace or do we originally have the buddha-nature? 

Are we originally free from the befouling faults or are we originally fouled by the befouling faults?

There should be, Dogen taught, thousands and tens of thousands of questions like these, asked on a round cushion.

For those of us who are prone to think we know the right answer – e.g. a resounding "No!" – there may be something to meditate upon in the title of a book on successful investing written by Ned Davis. I haven't yet read the book but, in recent weeks, as the price of gold has dropped, I have been keenly reflecting on the truth of the title, which is Being Right Or Making Money.

Last night on BBC2 there was a documentary about the re-introduction of wolves in Yellowstone National Park. Before the event some conservationists expressed the view or fear that wolves would or might cause declines in the population of some species of rare native deer. In fact what happened is that the presence of the re-introduced wolves deterred elk from lingering about on river banks feeding on saplings and trampling new growth under their heavy hooves. So trees grew back, beavers moved in, new land got flooded, silt flowed away, and bio-diversity increased – all thanks to the wolves giving the elk something new to think about, simply by being their normal wolvishly hungry selves.

Is it too fanciful to think that I might be helping to save the planet just by sitting there being myself? I don't know, any more than anybody knew whether re-introducing wolves to Yellowstone was going to be a step in the right direction.

What I do know, from experience – or at least, what I should have learned by now, from bitter experience – is that forming a view and trying to prove oneself to be right in that view is always a mug's game.

In the world of science, any view we form on mother Nature is always a wrong view. This is Richard Feynman's testimony, eloquently bequeathed to us on you-tube. The most intimate workings of Mother Nature, whether we call her beautiful, or whether we call her full of ugly suffering, are ultimately too weird for even the smartest of scientists to get their heads around.

In the world of finance, similarly, the smartest money-makers seem to be those with the keenest awareness of human fallibility. It may be fortunate for the rest of us who are not so smart that the best interests of those guys who have the money and power are also, broadly, our own best interests. If the actions of smart individuals like Warren Buffet, George Soros, and Bill Gates prove to be steps in the direction of saving the planet for the benefit of their children and grandchildren, we and our children also stand to benefit.

And it is not that in material worlds like finance and science trying to be right is a flawed strategy whereas in the transcedent sphere of Buddhist practice trying to be right is a golden rule. No. On the contrary. The universal rule seems to be that trying to be right, anywhere and for anybody, is a mug's game. The reason it is so may be that there is no such thing anywhere as being right – though there might be such a thing as taking steps in the right direction, like re-introducing wolves to Yellowstone.

"There is no such thing as a right view or a right position. But there is a right direction."

Just because I keep repeating it doesn't mean that I have really understood it yet. Still working on it...

VOCABULARY

aśuciḥ (nom. sg. m.): mfn. impure , foul

vikṛtaḥ (nom. sg. m.): mfn. transformed , altered , changed &c ; (esp.) deformed , disfigured , mutilated , maimed , unnatural , strange , extraordinary ; ugly (as a face)

vi- √ kṛ: to make different , transform , change the shape (or the mind) , cause to alter or change (esp. for the worse) , deprave , pervert , spoil , impair

ca: and

jīva-loke (loc. sg.): in the world of the living

vanitānām (gen. pl.): f. a loved wife , mistress , any woman ; mfn. solicited , asked , wished for , desired , loved

ayam (nom. sg. m.): this

īdṛśaḥ (nom. sg. m.): mfn. endowed with such qualities , such

sva-bhāvaḥ (nom. sg.): m. native place ; own condition or state of being , natural state or constitution , innate or inherent disposition , nature

vasanābharaṇaiḥ (inst. pl.): by clothes and ornaments

vasana: n. clothes

ā-bharaṇa: n. ornament , decoration (as jewels &c )

tu: but

vañcyamānaḥ = nom. sg. m. passive causative pres. part. vañc: to be caused to go astray , deceived

puruṣaḥ (nom. sg.): m. a man

strī-viṣayeṣu (loc. pl.): m. " women's sphere " , sexual connexion

strī: f. a woman , female , wife

viṣaya: m. scope , compass , horizon , range , reach (of eyes , ears , mind &c ); special sphere or department , peculiar province or field of action; anything perceptible by the senses , any object of affection or concern or attention , any special worldly object or aim or matter or business , (pl.) sensual enjoyments , sensuality

rāgam (acc. sg.): m. colour , hue , tint , dye , (esp.) red colour , redness; any feeling or passion , (esp.) love , affection or sympathy for , vehement desire

eti = 3^rd pers. sg. i: to go

女人性如是 云何可親近
沐浴假縁飾 誑惑男子心

BUDDHACARITA 5.63: Pouring Scorn on Unconstrained Beauty

⏑⏑−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−¦¦⏑⏑−−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−   Aupacchandasaka

samavekṣya tathā tathā śayānā viktās-tā yuvatīr-adhīra-ceṣṭāḥ |

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guṇavad-vapuṣo 'pi valgu-bhāṣā npa-sūnuḥ sa vigarhayāṁ babhūva || 5.63

5.63

Beholding them dropped off in irregular fashion, 
in this way and that,

Seeing the lack of constraint in the movement of their limbs,

Perfectly beautiful though those women were in their form,

and beautifully dulcet in their speech, 

The son of the king was moved to scorn: 

COMMENT:
The son of a king feels scorn or contempt for women in the court of the king, who he sees to be ugly and dumb, though in fact they are very beautiful in form and speech. 

This is a metaphor for what? I think it is a metaphor for the dissatisfaction a young man feels when reality fails to match his idealistic expectations. It is a metaphor, in a word, for idealism.

The first two pādas ostensibly describe the women as distorted or ugly (vikṛtāḥ) and as making wild or uncontrolled movements (adhīra-ceṣṭāḥ).  Hence śayānā vikṛtās-tā yuvatīr-adhīra-ceṣṭāḥ is translated by EBC “these young women lying distorted and with uncontrolled gestures" by EHJ “the young women lying... looking so loathsome with their uncontrolled movements”, and by PO “those girls sleeping... their bodies distorted, movements unrestrained." 

If the first two pādas are read like that, then the 3rd pāda only makes sense if it expresses how beautiful the women ordinarily were, as opposed to how loathsome they now appear to be. Hence EHJ added the word “ordinarily” to his translation of guṇavad-vapuṣo 'pi: “though ordinarily their forms were beautiful.”

The real meaning of the 3rd pāda that emerges when we follow the metaphorical sub-text, however, is that those individuals, who were beautiful by nature, were still beautiful then and there. They were beautiful 1. in the excellent (albeit irregular) form of their sitting, and 2a. in the sweet sound of their silence, or 2b. in the energetic radiance of their sitting.

According to EHJ's text, in the 3rd pāda the old Nepalese manuscript has valgu-bhāṣā “lovely in their speech” (2a). EBC's text, based on later copies of the old Nepalese manuscript, has valgu-bhāso, “lovely in their lustre” (2b). Both readings make sense to me.  The latter reading makes sense in asserting that the the women were beautiful not only in their external form but also in their energetic content. The former reading makes sense as an ironic allusion to the absence of speech in a meditation hall, and EHJ notes that valgu-bhāṣā is also supported by the Tibetan translation.

EHJ adds: “Otherwise, Speyer's phalgu-bhāso might have been preferable.” So EHJ thought Speyer's phalgu (“weak” or “worthless”) might have been preferable to the original valgu (“lovely”).  This reading does not make sense to me. I think that to have preferred phalgu-bhāso  ("weak in their lustre" i.e. dull [?]) would have been a mistake, born of EHJ's failure, not for the first time, to grasp Aśvaghoṣa's use of irony.

The irony is there, when we dig for it, in the description of the women as "irregular"  (vikṛtāḥ) and as "not being in control over the movements of their own limbs” (adhīra-ceṣṭāḥ).  A lack of constraint over the movements of one's own limbs can be understood as an ironic description of how a person uses himself when he has dropped off body and mind. When such a person brings his hands together and bows, for example, he does not move with the hyper-mindful carefulness of the Buddhist control freak. No. As Marjory Barlow summed up the essence of truly mindful practice: “Say no [to ideas like trying to be right]. Give your directions. And go into movement without a care in the world. Let it come out in the wash.”

When the son of the king was moved to scorn, then, his scorn was primarily a function not of the people he was beholding, who in fact were paragons of irregular beauty; the prince's scorn was rather a function of the idealistic aesthetics and faulty sensory appreciation of the unenlightened subject. Ugliness was in the eye of the idealistic beholder.

Today's verse thus causes us to reflect further on the meaning of vikṛta, “being irregular,” specifically in connection with the arising of scorn or contempt. Vikṛta means changed for the worse, i.e., irregular in the sense of not being as it was, or not being how it should be. “Not being how it should be” means, in other words, not being as some judging subject perceives that it should be.

Our human minds form a notion of how a woman, or, say, a Catholic cardinal, or a Zen master, or an Alexander teacher who talks the talk of conscious control, ought to be; and when we meet a living person who seems to fit the bill we fall in love with her, or worship and adore him, or try to make ourselves like an empty cup to receive his or her teaching. But then something happens, something ceases to fit, some irregularity is detected, we perceive that a change for the worse has taken place, and the dream is shattered. The fairy story comes to an unexpected end with the hero languishing at the bottom of a deep moat, slayed by dragons. The happy ending that was once believed in fades rapidly out of sight. And so the object that we formerly loved, adored or listened to with open ears, is suddenly turned into an object of scorn and contempt.

This may not be how our minds should be. But this is how our minds are. At least this is how my mind is. I know whereof I speak – both from the viewpoint of blaming subject and from the standpoint of blamed object.

Reflecting on today's verse in this light, we see that the central irony in the present Canto, whose title is abhi-niṣ-kramaṇaḥ, “Getting [Oneself] Out” or “Transcending,” is that the prince whose judgemental mind causes him to feel scorn for what he perceives as irregularity, is conspicuously not yet out. Ostensibly he is on his way out of a palace, but in the real sense of getting out, he is not yet even on his way. The 'irregular' women, in contrast, as human beings who have dropped off their own bodies and minds, are truly ones who are already out. And that, I think, is why Aśvaghoṣa describes them in today's verse as guṇavad-vapuṣo 'pi valgu-bhāṣāḥ, "perfectly beautiful in their form, and beautifully dulcet in their [non-]speech," or guṇavad-vapuṣo 'pi valgu-bhāsaḥ, "perfectly beautiful in their bodily form, and lovely in their radiant lustre."

VOCABULARY

samavekṣya = abs. sam-ava- √īkṣ: to look at , behold , observe , perceive , notice

tathā tathā: ind. in this and that manner

śayānāḥ (acc.pl. f.): mfn. lying, sleeping

vikṛtāḥ (acc.pl. f.): mfn. transformed , altered , changed &c ; (esp.) deformed , disfigured , mutilated , maimed , unnatural , strange , extraordinary ; ugly (as a face)

vi- √ kṛ: to make different , transform , change the shape (or the mind) , cause to alter or change (esp. for the worse) , deprave , pervert , spoil , impair

tāḥ (acc.pl. f.): those

yuvatīḥ (acc. pl.): f. a girl , young woman ,

adhīra-ceṣṭāḥ (acc.pl. f.): with their uncontrolled gestures

adhīra: mfn. imprudent ; confused ; deficient in calm self-command; excitable

ceṣṭa: n. moving the limbs , gesture ; n. behaviour , manner of life

ceṣṭā: f. moving any limb , gesture ; f. action , activity , effort , endeavour , exertion ; f. doing , performing ; f. behaving , manner of life

guṇavad-vapuṣaḥ (acc. pl. f.): mfn. excellent in form

guṇa-vat: mfn. endowed with good qualities or virtues or merits or excellences , excellent , perfect

vapus: n. form , figure , (esp.) a beautiful form or figure , wonderful appearance , beauty ; n. nature , essence ; n. the body

api: even, though

valgu-bhāṣāḥ [EHJ] (acc.pl. f.): lovely in their speech

valgu-bhāsaḥ [EBC] (acc.pl. f.): lovely in their lustre

phalgu-bhāsaḥ [Speyer] (acc.pl. f.): reddish / weak (??) in their lustre

valgu: mfn. handsome , beautiful , lovely , attractive

phalgu: mfn. reddish , red ; small , minute , feeble , weak , pithless , unsubstantial , insignificant , worthless , unprofitable , useless

bhāṣā: f. speech , language

bhās: nf. light or ray of light , lustre , brightness ; an image , reflection, shadow ; glory , splendour , majesty

nṛpa-sūnuḥ (nom. sg. m.): the son of the guardian of men

sa (nom. sg. m.): he

vigarhayām babhūva = 3^rd pers. sg. periphrastic perf. vi- √ garh: to blame , abuse , revile , reproach , despise , contemn : Caus. -garhayati , to revile , rail at , vituperate

時太子端坐 觀察諸婇女
先皆極端嚴 言笑心諂黠
妖豔巧姿媚 而今悉醜穢

BUDDHACARITA 5.62: Absolutely Beautiful Diversity

⏑⏑−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−¦¦⏑⏑−−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−   Aupacchandasaka

iti sattva-kulānvayānurūpaṁ vividhaṁ sa pramadā-janaḥ śayānaḥ |

⏑⏑−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−¦¦⏑⏑−−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−

sarasaḥ sadśaṁ babhāra rūpaṁ pavanāvarjita-rugna-puṣkarasya || 5.62

5.62

Thus, each in accordance with her nature and her lineage

That company of women – all reposing in diversity –

Bore the semblance of a lotus-pond

Whose lotuses had been bent down and broken by the wind.

COMMENT:

The ostensible meaning of the simile is that the women, manifesting diverse forms of postural distortion, where as unappealing to the eye as a muddy pondful of battered and bruised lotuses.

Judging from a first glance at the next three verses, this is how the prince himself saw the women – for, Aśvaghoṣa tells us in BC5.63, sa vigarhayām babhūva,  the prince felt moved with scorn (EBC), or he is moved to disgust (EHJ), or he gave vent to his utter contempt (PO).

The contrarian reading, however, is that Aśvaghoṣa's intention has been to describe the beauty that actually resides – contrary to Platonic conceptions of ideal forms – in diversity.

Adolf Hitler, one supposes, would not have approved of this contrarian reading; and nor would the emperor-worshippers who championed Japanese nationalism during WWII.

On the political agenda in Britain last week was discussion of the appropriate ratio of child-minders to children under supervision – would it be reasonable for the ratio to change from 1:3 to 1:4? Watching this on the news my wife laughed and pointed out that in Japan a ratio of 1:15 would be no problem at all.

So undeniably there are advantages, as well as disadvantages, to living in a society where social conformity and uniformity tends to be cherished above diversity.

The hidden meaning of today's verse, as I read it, in any case, is not to come down on the side of diversity, in a uniformity vs diversity debate. The jana of pramadā-janaḥ ("the company of women") works as a collective noun; in a compound jana means "people" and at the same time "people as a group." So implicit in today's verse, as I read it, is affirmation of both uniformity and diversity. 

Thinking about uniformity and diversity in nature, the 2^nd law of thermodynamics would seem to be a universal constant, but this uniformity has not obstructed what we celebrate as beautiful biodiversity. On the contrary, if energy gave up its constant desire to spread out, and the sun stopped shining, where would the beautiful diversity of our planet be? 

In the metaphorical meditation hall which Aśvaghoṣa has conjured up for us, similarly, all the practitioners are practitioners who have dropped off together under the same roof, and yet he has described them as individuals, each filling his own frame, or each cutting her own figure; each being relaxed in his or her own skin in accordance with his or her own [buddha]nature;  and each being relaxed in a robe of one or another lineage – be it a yellowy red robe or a ruddy yellow robe or a blue or black or brown robe.

So, speaking of lineages, Aśvaghoṣa, as I hear him, is not suggesting that those who practise sitting-meditation in lineage A are true whereas those who practise in lineage B are not true. Nor is he negating the existence of different lineages.

I think Aśvaghoṣa's intention might be to suggest – presaging the Chinese Zen Master who famously described the whole universe in ten directions as one bright pearl – that a lotus-pond whose individual lotuses have been damaged in a strong wind, is still one perfectly beautiful pond.

In other words divergence from an idealistic norm does not necessarily detract from the beauty of nature. On the contrary, myriad divergences from an idealistic norm might be the very nature of beauty.

Reflecting on uniformity and diversity in the light of practical experience, I have given Alexander lessons over the years to Theravada monks and Zen practitioners, businessmen and women, school-teachers, dyslexic and dyspraxic children and their parents, professional sportsmen, therapists of various stripes, office workers, retirees, people with disabilities, musicians, yoga practitioners, and so on – a wide diversity of customers of all shapes, sizes, creeds, races and ages. But what I have endeavoured to transmit to every one of them in the way of Alexander's teaching is only what was transmitted to me, which is understanding of what to want, all of the time. And the thing to want, all of the time, is simply to keep trending in the right direction. 

Alexander deemed that the closest he had got to putting that right direction into words was something like “To let the neck be free, to let the head go forward and up, to let the back lengthen and widen, while sending the knees forwards and away.” 

The point of every Alexander lesson, FM Alexander's niece Marjory Barlow impressed upon me, was to put a bit more meaning into those words which, for any AT student or teacher, at any stage in his or her development, are the same. The right direction, which is mainly up (not down), does not change, any more than a broken mirror repairs itself or any more than fallen flowers climb back onto the branches of trees.

The Buddha's instruction that, when lying down to go to sleep, we should think of light, always wishing to be awake, as I have come to understand it in the few years since I first read it in SN Canto 14, is related with the overarching existence of this right direction, which is the direction of light, or the direction of being awake.

When we go to sleep, we temporarily go in the other direction, in the direction of darkness; but the tendency, or orientation, or alignment remains the same. In that case, going to sleep might be compared to a cat flexing its leg muscles before it extends them in a pounce. But a truer demonstration, though not easy to understand, is provided by maintaining a direction in Alexander work that is opposite to a movement. This happens, for example, when we continue to think up whilst lowering the body by bending the knees – a preparatory step in sitting-meditation that I have come increasingly to see as vital. One of these days I may post a video on you-tube to help clarify the point. 

Notwithstanding the undeniable importance which sleep thus has on the way to being awake, when Aśvaghoṣa describes the women in today's verse as śayānaḥ, which ostensibly means asleep, I don't think what he really has in mind is temporary regression into the land of nod. Ironically, he is describing sitting practitioners who are very much awake, each having dropped off his or her own body and mind, and in that uniform state of being very much awake, each is reposing, or relaxing, or luxuriating, in diversity.

VOCABULARY

iti: thus

sattva-kulānvayānurūpam: ind. according to their disposition and noble descent ; in accordance with their own true nature and their lineage

sattva: n. true essence , nature , disposition of mind , character

kulānvaya: m. noble descent

kula: n. a race , family , community , tribe , caste , set , company ; a house , abode ; a noble or eminent family or race

anvaya: m. following , succession ; connection , association , being linked to or concerned with ; descendants , race , lineage , family

anurūpam: ind. ifc. conformably , according

vividham: ind. variously ; mfn. of various sorts , manifold , divers

sa (nom. sg. m.): that, the

pramadā-janaḥ (nom. sg. m.): m. womankind , the female sex

pramadā: f. a young and wanton woman , any woman

jana: often ifc. denoting one person or a number of persons collectively

śayānaḥ (nom. sg. m.): mfn. lying down , resting , sleeping

sarasaḥ (gen. sg.): n. " anything flowing or fluid " , a lake , large sheet of water , pond , pool , tank

sadṛśam (acc. sg. n.): like , resembling , similar to

babhāra = 3^rd pers. sg. perf. bhṛ: to bear

rūpam (acc. sg.): n. any outward appearance or phenomenon or colour (often pl.) , form

pavanāvarjita-rugna-puṣkarasya (gen. sg.): whose lotuses had been bent and broken by the wind
pavana: m. " purifier " , wind or the god of wind , breeze , air

ā-varjita: mfn. inclined , bent down , prone ; poured out , made to flow downwards ; humbled

rugna = rugṇa: mfn. broken , bent , shattered , injured , checked

ruj: to break , break open , dash to pieces , shatter , destroy ; to cause pain , afflict , injure

puṣkara: n. a blue lotus-flower , a lotus

[No corresponding Chinese]  

BUDDHACARITA 5.61: Filling An Irregular Frame

⏑⏑−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−¦¦⏑⏑−−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−   Aupacchandasaka

vivtāsya-puṭā vivddha-gātrī prapatad-vaktra-jalā prakāśa-guhyā |

⏑⏑−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−¦¦⏑⏑−−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−−

aparā mada-ghūrṇiteva śiśye na babhāse viktaṁ vapuḥ pupoṣa || 5.61

5.61

With her oral cavity open and her legs spreading out,

So that she sprayed saliva,

and made visible what normally remains secret,

One different one had dropped off, who,

rocking somewhat in her intoxication,

Did not make a pretty sight, but filled an irregular frame.

COMMENT:

People who want to know who Aśvaghoṣa was are prone to think that he supplied the most important information about himself in the extant colophon – i.e. the bit at the end of his epic story of Beautiful Happiness that reads: This is the work of a beggar, the respected teacher Aśvaghoṣa of Saketa, son of the noble Suvarṇākṣī, crafter of epic poetry and talker of the great talk.

My impression is that a verse which really tells us most about how Aśvaghoṣa saw himself is today's verse. On the face of it, this sounds like a shocking contention, at least if one only takes today's verse at face value, as per the following translations:

Another, with fully-developed limbs, her mouth wide open, her saliva dropping, and her person exposed, lay as though sprawling in intoxication, — she spoke not [reading na babhāṣe, as per the original manuscripts] but bore every limb distorted. (EBC)

Another lay as if sprawling with intoxication, with her mouth gaping wide, so that the saliva oozed forth, and with her limbs spread out so as to show what should have been hid. Her beauty was gone, her form distorted. (EHJ)

another was lying as if she was drunk, mouth wide open and saliva oozing, legs wide open and genitals exposed, body distorted, looking repulsive. (PO)

The ostensible meaning in the 1st pāda of today's verse of vivṛtāsya-puṭā is thus simply “her mouth wide open” (EBC/PO) or “her mouth gaping wide” (EHJ), but the original meaning of āsya is not so much the outer mouth as the inner mouth and the rest of the face – as reflected by such compounds as āsya-garta ("the hollow of the mouth") and āsya-loman (“facial hair, beard”). Thus, with the addition of puṭa ("hollow space, cavity"), āsya-puṭa more literally means “the cavity of the mouth/jaws/face” or “the oral cavity.” 

The spraying of saliva, then, which is expressed in the 2nd pāda as prapatad-vaktra-jalā (lit. “flying mouth-water”) is not necessarily happening through the open mouth of somebody who is sleeping; the spraying of saliva might be something happening behind the closed mouth of somebody who is sitting. And if we understand it like this, the spraying of saliva, within an open or expanded oral cavity, was something that Aśvaghoṣa had only ever witnessed happening in one individual – namely, that very different individual whose name was Aśvaghoṣa.

Aśvaghoṣa himself, then, might also be the one who sat with his legs spreading (or more literally “growing”) out of his lengthening and widening back; and who, in so sitting, caused the secret or the mystery (guhya) to be revealed. 

What was that secret? I don't know, but I think it might have to do with the principle of non-doing, or with the practice of not doing the wrong thing so that the right thing has a chance of doing itself. That being so, to send the knees forwards and away, as a preventive direction, might be direct expression of the secret – when one actually applies oneself to thinking the direction "knees forwards and away," that is, as opposed to thinking or writing about it.

The iva in the 3rd pāda, as I read it, means somewhat or slightly, so that the hidden gist of the second half of today's verse to suggest sitting not as the imitation of a perfectly symmetrical stone statue but rather as the practice of an individual living breathing human being – and one, again, who is not primarily interested in putting on a good show.

My provisional title for today's post, before I came to study the verse in detail, was Letting It All Hang Out. Ostensibly that is what the woman in today's verse is doing. But the beggar/poet who is being described, following the metaphorical sub-text as I read it, is very far from one who lets it all hang out. On the contrary, subtle actions that cause an irregular frame to be filled, like raising the dome of the soft palate and releasing the legs out of the pelvis, are manifestations (to quote a veteran Alexander teacher) of a delicacy of movement in which there is very great accuracy.

So if we are talking specifically about Aśvaghoṣa, in terms of letting or not letting it all hang out, a contrast might be drawn between these long, rambling and sometimes downright disorderly comments of mine, and the elegance and economy of Aśvaghoṣa's verse, tightly shackled as it invariably is to the merciless tyranny of Sanskrit metre.

From the series of fourteen verses that ends with today's verse, what hint can we glean about the meaning of the canto title abhi-niṣ-kramaṇaḥ? The translation that occurs to me this morning is “Getting the Whole Self Totally Out” – using the oral cavity, the face, the eyes (open or closed), the neck, the spine (whether it has a scoliosis or a lordosis, or both), the mechanism of breathing (whether deep or not), the breasts (whether female or male), the soft arms complete with energetic golden bands, and the legs growing out of the back; plus using that which is born of the head, as well as unconsciousness.

Ostensibly, then, the title of the present Canto relates to the prince's getting himself out of the palace and into the forest. But when we dig for its deeper meaning, the whole of Aśvaghoṣa's writing, as is also the case with Dogen's writing, turns out all to be intimately entangled with sitting-meditation.

The main point, whatever one's station and wherever one happens to be stationed, is just to sit. 

VOCABULARY

vivṛtāsya-puṭā (nom. sg. f.): her oral cavity wide open

vivṛta: mfn. uncovered , unconcealed , exposed , naked , bare; unclosed, open

vi- √ vṛ: to uncover , spread out , open , display , show , reveal , manifest

āsya: n. mouth , jaws ; face ; mfn. belonging to the mouth or face , belonging to that part of the mouth or face which is the organ of uttering sounds or letters

puṭa: mn. a fold , pocket , hollow space , slit , concavity; m. a casket; m. the enveloping or wrapping of any substance

vivṛddha-gātrī (nom. sg. f.): her legs spread fully out

vi-vṛddha: mfn. grown , increased , enhanced , grown up , fully developed , large , numerous , abundant , mighty , powerful

gātra: n. " instrument of moving " , a limb or member of the body

prapatad-vaktra-jalā (nom. sg. f.): her saliva spraying

prapatat = pres. part. pra- √ pat: to fly away or along , hasten towards (loc.) , fly or fall down upon (loc.) , fall

vaktra: n. " organ of speech " , the mouth , face

jala: n. water , any fluid

prakāśa-guhyā (nom. sg. f.): with her private parts visible

pra-kāśa: mfn. visible ; clear , manifest , open , public

guhya: mfn. to be covered or concealed or hidden or kept secret , concealable , private , secret , mysterious , mystical ; n. a secret , mystery ; n. the pudenda

aparā (nom. sg. f.): another

mada-ghūrṇitā (nom. sg. f.): rolling about with intoxication

mada: m. hilarity , rapture , excitement , inspiration , intoxication

ghūrṇita = past. part. ghūrṇ: to move to and fro , shake , be agitated , roll about

iva: like, as if ; in a certain manner , in some measure , a little , perhaps (in qualification or mitigation of a strong assertion)

śiśye = 3^rd pers. sg. perf. śī: to lie , lie down , recline , rest , repose ; to lie down to sleep , fall asleep , sleep

na: not

babhāṣe [EBC] = 3^rd pers. sg. perf bhāṣ: .to speak , talk , say , tell

babhāse = 3^rd pers. sg. perf. bhās: to shine , be bright

vikṛtam (acc. sg. n.): mfn. transformed , altered , changed &c ; (esp.) deformed , disfigured , mutilated , maimed , unnatural , strange , extraordinary

vapuḥ (acc. sg.): n. form , figure , (esp.) a beautiful form or figure , wonderful appearance , beauty ; n. nature, essence ; n. the body

pupoṣa = 3^rd pers. sg. perf. puṣ: to cause to thrive or prosper , nourish , foster , augment , increase , further , promote , fulfil (e.g. a wish) , develop , unfold , display , gain , obtain , enjoy , possess

頻呻長欠呿 魘呼涕流涎

[Conflated with 5. 53?]