−−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−− Upajāti
(Vāṇī)
dṣṭvā
ca sorṇa-bhruvam-āyatākṣaṁ
jvalac-charīraṁ śubha-jāla-hastam |
−−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−−¦¦−−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−−
taṁ
bhikṣu-veṣaṁ kṣiti-pālanārhaṁ
saṁcukṣubhe rājaghasya lakṣmīḥ
|| 10.9
10.9
On seeing him, moreover,
with the circle of hair between his
eyebrows
and with his widely extending eyes,
With his shining body and beautiful
webbed hands,
On seeing in a beggar's garb him who
was fit to rule the earth,
The Royal Grace of Rājagṛha was
ruffled.
COMMENT:
The suggestion in today's verse, as I
read it, is that the combination of a prince's god-like virtues and
his wearing of a beggar's robe caused feathers to be ruffled.
Something or someone was perturbed.
Aśvaghoṣa called that something or
someone rājagṛhasya
lakṣmīḥ, translated by EBC as “the
Goddess of Rājagṛha,” by EHJ as “Rājagṛha's Goddess of
Fortune,” and by PO as “The Royal fortune of Raja-griha.”
Among the dictionary definitions of
lakṣmi which seem significant are:
1. grace , and
2. the
Good Genius or Fortune of a king personified (and often regarded as a
rival of his queen).
The
former definition, grace, suggests a state – something
before perturbation. The latter suggests a female entity – someone
to whom a king attaches, the personification of feminine virtues such
as beauty, loveliness and grace, and at the same time the female
personification of kingly power, dominion and majesty.
What,
then, was ruffled? And what has it got to do with me, as a bloke who
sits?
I
think Aśvaghoṣa might be intending to suggest that what was
ruffled was the value system that prevailed in Rājagṛha at that time.
The
bodhisattva's attitude challenged prevailing values in the way that
science challenged religion. Science was dangerous to kings because it challenged the religious assumptions – like
direct descent from God – upon which royal legitimacy used to be based.
Neither
of these challenges was a direct challenge; neither involved
so-called “direct action” or forming of revolutionary groups bearing guillotines. Neither
was even motivated by a desire to challenge the powers that be. The
motivation, in each case, was rather a desire simply to go in the direction of knowing whatever truth can be known.
I
think that what today's verse has got to do with, then, again, is the
anya (being different) of anya-kriya (different work). Being
different sometimes means not conforming to convention. And when individuals do not
conform to social convention, the feathers of people in authority are prone to be ruffled,
especially in countries which are less tolerant of individual
differences.
Speaking
of the desire to know, and not conforming, I was reflecting as I
cycled this morning to the bread shop on my own chequered career.
At primary school I used to like doing, and was good at doing, problems that started off sounding complicated but which ended up having a simple solution. If it takes twelve men with twenty-four sandwiches six hours to dig two holes... that kind of problem. The answer was invariably a nice round number, like four, or like one. If the answer came out to a clumsy fraction, the answer was generally wrong. Somehow I got it into my head at an early age that there must be a big simple answer out there somewhere, and the aim of my life was to find it.
A
veteran Alexander teacher once cautioned me, to the contrary, against getting Zen and
Alexander work muddled up with each other. For her they were in
parallel, but not the same. I eventually gave up having lessons with her, which in any case were a strain on the finances. Two
truths in parallel with each other was never the solution I was looking for.
The Zen Patriarch Nāgārjuna
wrote of four pratyaya, which I call the cornerstones of direction.
The fourth cornerstone is adhipateyam, “this present state of being the
adhipa.” The adhipa means the commander, the king, the bloke who
calls the shots.
I
come to the forest here in France to be that bloke – the king of
the universe. Having travelled down the canal, and got lost in the
city, and then kept pedalling forward, even though the going was
somewhat hard, I have arrived at the forest, where I now am.
Here
by the forest, most of the time, it is very quiet. That helps me a
lot, since noise tends to stimulate my auditory Moro reflex. Quiet
surroundings, for me, are very conducive to the neck releasing. Since the Moro reflex, and equally a stiffened neck, are all tied up with end-gaining, or thirsting for a result, all this relates to the first of Nāgārjuna's four cornerstones of direction,
the first cornerstone being the
motivational.
At
the same time, my ear is helped by the singing of songbirds, cooing
of pigeons, and of cuckoos, in many directions. The ear is the organ
not only of hearing but also of spatial orientation, or listening to
oneself in the gravitational field. Standing on the earth with a
hazel thumbstick in hand, touching the earth through my feet and
through the stick, and being aware through peripheral vision of
mighty trees towering up into the vast sky... this also helps me a
lot. In more cramped spaces, I tend easily to pull my head back and
down. But here my head seems easily to remember where it wants to go,
which is in a direction Alexander called “forward and up.” This
description relates to the second of Nāgārjuna's four cornerstones
of direction, the second cornerstone being the
gravitational.
The
third cornerstone of direction, as I understand it, relates to proper
coordination of the two sides of the self, such that there is no gap.
It is a direction which Alexander called widening of the back.
And
the fourth cornerstone, as mentioned already, relates to a momentary
sense of being in command. In Rājagṛha the person who was nominally in command was King Śreṇya. But truly being in command, as king of one's own universe, might ultimately be a function of the direction that Alexander called sending the
knees “forwards and away.” When life becomes complicated I tend
to fail to send my knees forwards and away. Conversely, when I fail
to send my knees forwards and away, life tends to become complicated.
So life in the city, where I am not the king, easily descends into a
vicious spiral. But life alone by the forest, where presently I am
the king, tends to ascend in a virtuous spiral.
I
am making this record, as usual, mainly for my own benefit. I don't
expect anybody will be able to understand what I am going on about.
When
I discussed my understanding of Nāgārjuna's four cornerstones of
direction with my wife, she understood well enough where I was coming
from. But, she told me, she would never have begun to understand without her
years of Alexander experience.
I submit that there are four cornerstones which exist a priori – prior to Zen
and prior to the Alexander Technique. They are four cornerstones of the human neuro-physiology which we all share. To paraphrase one of Sting's better lyrics, “We share the same neuro-physiology, regardless of ideology.” Proceeding from these grounds, it seems to me, makes for simplicity.
Finally,
speaking of simplicity, I remember a story from Shobogenzo that
strikes me as relevant to today's verse. It is the story of how
Dogen's teacher Tendo Nyojo gave a dharma-talk as a memorial to a
wealthy supporter's relative, after which the grateful supporter offered Master Tendo
a substantial donation of gold pieces. The Master very politely but insistently refused
the gift.
“Why did he refuse the gift?” I asked my teacher at the
time.
“Couldn't he have accepted the gold and used it for some
constructive purpose?”
The
answer that came back was this:
“Master
Tendo was just enjoying his simple life.”
That,
I think, is what Nāgārjuna meant by adhipateyam, “this present
state of being in overall command.” It is not an intellectual
realization but is a function of simply sitting in lotus and not-doing what
Alexander called allowing the knees to go forwards and away. This
direction, in turn, is a function of the fourth of four vestibular
reflexes whose development and inhibition cause a baby, at aged
around 6 months, to come up from its tummy into the cat-sit position. As long as this reflex holds sway, a person is not in overall control of himself or herself. Rather, the reflex, is dictating that the upper body does one thing and the hips and legs do another (as in the cat-sit position, where the neck and arms are extended, and the hips and knees are flexed).
Nāgārjuna,
it needs to be said, finally, not only affirmed the existence of four
cornerstones. He also wrote of the four cornerstones in very negative
terms – somewhat similarly to Charles Sherrington who in his
pioneering book on reflexes, “The Integrative Action of the Nervous
System” [1906], wrote of “the convenient fiction of the simple
reflex.”
VOCABULARY
dṛṣṭvā
= abs. dṛś: to see, behold
śubhorṇabhruvam
[EBC] (acc. sg. m.): with his beautiful circle of hair between the
eyebrows
śubha:
mfn. beautiful
ūrṇā:
f, wool , a woollen thread , thread ; a cobweb ; a circle of hair
between the eyebrows
bhrū:
f. eyebrow
ca: and
sorṇa-bhruvam
= acc. sg. sorṇa-bhrū: mfn. having a circle of hair between the
eye-brows Bcar. i , 65 (conj.)
āyatākṣam
(acc. sg. m.): having longish eyes
āyata:
mfn. stretched , lengthened , extending
jvalac-charīram
(acc. sg. m.): having a glowing body
jvalat
= pres. part. jval: to burn brightly , blaze , glow , shine
śubha-jāla-hastam
(acc. sg. m.): having hands with a beautiful webbing
jāla:
n. a net ; any reticulated or woven texture ; " the web or
membrane on the feet of water-birds " » -pāda the finger- and
toe-membrane of divine beings and godlike personages
tam
(acc. sg. m.): him
bhikṣu-veṣam
(acc. sg. m.): with beggar's garb
kṣiti-pālanārham
(acc. sg. m.):
kṣiti:
f. earth
pālana:
n. the act of guarding , protecting , nourishing , defending
pāl:
to watch , guard , protect , defend , rule , govern
arha:
mfn. meriting , deserving ; becoming , proper , fit (with gen. or
ifc.)
saṁcukṣubhe
= 3rd pers. sg. perf. saṁ- √ kṣubh: to shake about
violently , agitate , toss , excite
kṣubh:
to shake , tremble , be agitated or disturbed , be unsteady , stumble
(literally and metaphorically)
rājagṛhasya
(gen. sg.): of Rāja-gṛha
lakṣmīḥ
(nom. sg.): f. beauty , loveliness , grace , charm , splendour ,
lustre ; N. of the goddess of fortune and beauty ; the Good Genius
or Fortune of a king personified (and often regarded as a rival of
his queen) , royal power , dominion , majesty
眉間白毫相 脩廣紺青目
擧體金光曜 清淨網縵手
雖爲出家形 有應聖王相
擧體金光曜 清淨網縵手
雖爲出家形 有應聖王相
王舍城士女 長幼悉不安
此人尚出家 我等何俗歡
No comments:
Post a Comment