⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑− Vaṁśastha
vibhor-daśa-kṣatra-ktaḥ
prajāpateḥ parāpara-jñasya vivasvad-ātmanaḥ |
⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−
priyeṇa
putreṇa satā vinā-ktaṁ kathaṁ na muhyed-dhi mano manor-api
|| 8.78
8.78
For,
though Manu is the mighty lord of living creatures,
maker
of ten dominions,
Knower
of former and latter things, son of the shining Sun,
When
dispossessed of a beloved true son,
How
could the mind of even Manu not be bewildered?
COMMENT:
True
is a direction. Anybody can observe it for free simply by letting an
object dangle freely on the end of a piece of string, like a plumb
bob.
Understood
in that light, the truth is not an object to be realized by doing
something, like eating a sandwich or lifting a weight. The truth
might be a direction that one points oneself in, like up, and keeps
on going.
What
that direction is in myself I cannot feel. My feeling as to what is
true is unreliable (though my antennae may have become more sensitive
over the years to what is not true). Because my feeling in regard to true is unreliable, seeking the truth as if it were an object in
my grasp, relying on unreliable feelings, is a path to bewilderment.
The
above reflection was stimulated by today's verse, which contains the
words satā (being true) and mudhyet (might be bewildered); at the
same time, the above reflection was stimulated by an hour of sitting
in lotus just now, asking myself where is up.
My
Zen teacher, Gudo Nishijima, was a very sincere man and in some
senses a true Zen patriarch. When I stated in a post a few days ago
that his teaching did me fuck all good, I was possibly overstating my
case. The fact remains, however, that right at the very centre of his
teaching was the instruction to keep the spine straight vertically.
But when push came to shove – as push literally did come to shove
when Gudo “corrected” his students' postures, shoving our chins
backwards – what Gudo thought and felt was true, was not that
direction which truly is up; it was just pure downward doing. The direction that Gudo believed to be up was in fact down – a cruel and unintended irony.
In
1909, five years before WWI became A Terrible Reality, an English
journalist wrote a best-selling book explaining how the prospect of a
long drawn-out war between the world powers was not realistic. In
a cruel and unintended irony, he
called that prospect, and he called his book, The Great
Illusion.
More
of that later, but to come back first to the description of Manu in
today's verse, EBC asks in a footnote:
Does
this refer to his loosing his son Sudyumna, who was changed to a
woman, Viṣṇu Pur, IV, I?
EHJ
adds in a note of his own:
I
can find no reference to Manu's grief for a lost son and presume from
the optative that the case stated is purely suppositious. Manu's ten
sons, or nine sons and a daughter, founded ten lines of kings. cp.
especially Harivaṁśa, 633, also 433.
Exactly
thinking, what is being described in today's verse is not Manu's
loss of his son, but rather Manu's mind being in
some sense dispossessed of a son.
That
is to say, the second half of today's verse describes Manu's mind
(mano manor) as being separated from, or being rendered void of, or
being left destitute of, or being dispossessed of (vinā-kṛtam)
a beloved son (priyeṇa putreṇa) who is real or true or good
(satā).
The
4th
pāda is a rhetorical question, but the inference seems to me to be
that if the mind of even mighty Manu would be bewildered when no
longer able to commune with a true son, how much more is the mind of
us who are not mighty as Manu liable to be bewildered?
And
that inference resonates loud and clear with my own actual experience
– as touched on in the “About Me” section of this blog – of
being left somewhat bewildered by the actions and teaching of a Zen
patriarch, i.e., a true son, whose instruction in the matter of what
was true, as described above, turned out, in a cruel and unintended
irony, not to be true at all.
We naturally tend to think of the Zen patriarch Aśvaghoṣa as a beloved true ancestor, like a father or grandfather. But if he was indeed a true Zen patriarch, then before he was anything else he was first and foremost another Zen patriarch's beloved true son.
So I am confident that, in endeavouring
to serve Aśvaghoṣa by this translation, I am endeavouring to serve
a true son – because every Zen patriarch, in spite of the name, is
invariably a son or daughter before being a father or mother or
grandfather or grandmother.
And
this confidence of which I speak, of serving somebody's true son,
serves me, when I wake up in the middle of the night in a state of worry
and self-doubt, as a kind of antidote to further bewilderment.
Speaking
of bewilderment, I put forth a lot of mental effort in the course of
2013 seeking to glean at least a little bit of understanding of what
drives the price of gold up or – as was generally the case in 2013
– down. If I went into 2013 with a kind of delusory conception,
rooted in study many years ago of classical economics, that what
governed the price of gold was basically supply and demand, I enter
2014 having allowed myself to be disabused of that view the hard way.
I have become convinced instead that what has been governing the
price of gold in 2013, as described in this piece, is a big US bank
named JP Morgan.
Why the manipulation
has been allowed to happen by the authorities; and why –
despite a precious metals commentator like Ted Butler clearly explaining the mechanics of how
the manipulation happens – a magazine like The Economist which I read every week
never runs any stories on the allegations of price manipulation, continues to be bewildering.
One explanation is, in
George Orwell's words, that "The further a society drifts from
the truth, the more it will hate those who speak it."
Educated opinion seems
to see talk of manipulation of the gold price as belonging to “gold
bugs” on the lunatic fringe. If educated opinion is correct, that
must be what I am – a gold bug on the lunatic fringe.
Gold bugs, as a rule,
do not put their trust in governments. So it was that my attention
was drawn, on a gold bug website, to this essay, titled The Rhyme of
History, which draws parallels between the state of the world in 1914
and the state of the world now. The essay concludes by cautioning
against what may happen if government leaders fail, as they failed in
1914, “to work together to build a stable international order.”
One
particular passage of the essay caught my eye, and seemed worthy of
reproducing here, since the passage describes a
cruel and unintended irony;
and Aśvaghoṣa's writing, as I have argued many times on this blog,
cannot be appreciated without a developed sense of irony in its many
forms – verbal, dramatic, and cosmic.
The growth of international law, the Hague disarmament conferences of 1899 and 1907, and the increasing use of arbitration between nations lulled Europeans into the comforting belief that they had moved beyond savagery. The fact that there had been an extraordinary period of general peace since 1815, when the Napoleonic wars ended, further reinforced this illusion, as did the idea that the interdependence of the countries of the world was so great that they could never afford to go to war again. This was the argument made by Norman Angell, a small, frail, and intense Englishman who had knocked around the world as everything from a pig farmer to a cowboy in the American West before he found his calling as a popular journalist. National economies were bound so tightly together, he maintained in his book, The Great Illusion, that war, far from profiting anyone, would ruin everyone. Moreover, in a view widely shared by bankers and economists at the time, a large-scale war could not last very long because there would be no way of paying for it (though we now know that societies have, when they choose, huge resources they can tap for destructive purposes). A sensational best-seller after it was published in Britain in 1909 and in the United States the following year, its title—meant to make the point that it was an illusion to believe there was anything to be gained by taking up arms—took on a cruel and unintended irony only a few short years later.
"The further a
society drifts from the truth, the more it will hate those who speak
it." And, the example of Norman Angell seems to
demonstrate, the more accepting society will be of the views of those
who turn the truth into its opposite.
A beloved Dharma-loving
son in China truly said, to paraphrase: “Don't be bewildered.
Mountains are mountains.” And market manipulation is market
manipulation. And a downward direction, even when transmitted by the
hand of a Zen patriarch who was the beloved son of a previous Zen
patriarch, is a downward direction.
VOCABULARY
vibhoḥ
(gen. sg. m.): mfn. being everywhere , far-extending , all-pervading
, omnipresent , eternal ; mighty , powerful ; m. a lord , ruler ,
sovereign , king (also applied to brahmā , viṣṇu , and śiva) ;
m. name of indra under manu raivata and under the 7th manu
daśa-kṣatra-kṛtaḥ
(nom. sg. m.): the maker of the ten dominions
daśa:
ten
kṣatra:
n. sg. and pl. dominion ; sg. and pl. government ; the military or
reigning order (the members of which in the earliest times , as
represented by the Vedic hymns , were generally called rājanya , not
kṣatriya); a member of the military or second order or caste ,
warrior
kṛta:
maker
prajā-pateḥ
(gen. sg.): m. " lord of creatures " , N. of savitṛ ,
soma , agni , indra &c
parāpara-jñasya
(gen. sg. m.): mfn. knowing what is remote and proximate &c
para:
mfn. far , distant ; previous (in time) , former
apara:
mfn. posterior , later , latter
jña:
mfn. knowing
vivasvad-ātmanaḥ
(gen. sg. m.): the son of Vivasvat; son of the sun
vivasvat:
mfn. shining forth , diffusing light , matutinal (applied to uṣas
agni &c); m. " the Brilliant one " , N. of the Sun
(sometimes regarded as one of the eight ādityas or sons of aditi ,
his father being kaśyapa ; elsewhere he is said to be a son of
dākṣāyaṇī and kaśyapa ; in epic poetry he is held to be the
father of manu vaivasvata or , according to another legend , of manu
sāvarṇi by sa-varṇā ; in RV. x , 17 , 1 he is described as
the father of yama vaivasvata , and in RV. x , 17 , 2 as father of
the aśvins by saraṇyū , and elsewhere as father of both yama and
yamī , and therefore a kind of parent of the human race); m. of the
seventh or present manu (more properly called vaivasvata , as son of
vivasvat)
ātman:
m. the soul, self; a son
priyeṇa
(inst. sg. m.): mfn. beloved, dear
putreṇa
(inst. sg.): m. son
satā
(inst. sg. m.): mfn. real , actual , as any one or anything ought to
be , true , good , right
vinā-kṛtam
(nom. sg. n.): mfn. " made without " , deprived or bereft
of , separated from , left or relinquished by , lacking , destitute
of , free from (instr.)
katham:
ind. how?
na:
not
muhyet
= 3rd pers. sg. optative muh: to become stupefied or
unconscious , be bewildered or perplexed , err , be mistaken , go
astray ; to become confused , fail ,
hi:
for
manaḥ
(nom. sg.): n. mind
manoḥ
(gen. sg.): m. Manu
api:
eve
魔衆生主
亦當爲子憂
況復我常人 失子能自安
況復我常人 失子能自安
1 comment:
Very interesting. Will study your gold theory more closely. But if the dollar collapses, not sure what would have value other than non radioactive high ground.
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