Monday, August 10, 2009

SAUNDARANANDA 13.35: Poisoned Arrows

saMkalpa-viSha-dighdaa hi
paNc'-endriya-mayaaH sharaaH
cintaa-puNkhaa rati-phalaa
viShay'-aakaasha-gocaraaH

= = - - - = = -
= = - - - = - =
= = = = - - - =
- - = = - = - =

13.35
For smeared with the poison of ideas,

Are those arrows, produced from five senses,

Whose tails are anxiety, whose tips are thrills,

And whose range is the vast emptiness of objects.

DUST & FLUFF:
Arrows, for me, are sensory impulses that threaten my integrity. The desired object that triggers them might be, to go for the obvious example, a sensual woman. But the object could be money, or a gold medal, or a high approval rating. In Alexander work the object we usually use is a chair.

SaMkalpa means conception or idea. It might mean a size zero or an egg-timer conception of female beauty, or it might mean a conception of correct posture. It might mean an end-gaining idea.

Among the five sense organs, the ear is the organ not only of listening to external sound. The ear is also the organ of listening to the self -- through what Paul Madaule calls "the ear of the body": the vestibular system. The ear is the organ through which, in a more or less faulty manner, one senses balance and movement. The importance of the ear in human development, I venture to submit, is much more important than parents and teachers generally realise.

The 3rd line as I read it connects the senses with the emotions. At the root, base, or tail of this connection is the baby panic or Moro reflex, which I have written about at length already. As a fear reflex, the Moro reflex is profoundly implicated with anxiety. At the same time, the fight or flight response which is part of the Moro reaction stimulates the flow of adrenaline and other neuro-peptides that are implicated in the cheap thrills to be had from flying around in small planes, jumping out of said planes, et cetera.

The 4th line can be understood on so many levels, and translated in so many ways. As a negation of sensuality, it could be translated "And whose range is the vast nothingness of sensual enjoyments."

But again, the original words do not limit us to that line of interpretation. If a man and a woman are in a sexual relationship, of the kind that is necessary to keep the world populated with human beings, then can a man treat a woman not as an object but as the individual she really is. And can a woman so treat a man? The translation, "And whose range is the vast emptiness of objects," then, could be understood as a negation of objectification.

Again, viShaya means not only sensuality, and not only object of the senses, but also object in the sense of an objective, an aim or an end to be gained. So the translation, "And whose range is the vast emptiness of objects" could be understood as a negation of the end-gaining attitude. This understanding could be expressed more explicitly with the translation "And whose range is the vast emptiness of ends."

Every morning when I begin to sit, I endeavour not to engage the whole of my faulty sensory-muscular machinery by thinking of doing something, by thinking of gaining some end. As long as I don't give in to an idea of doing something, of gaining an end, my faulty sensory appreciation is prevented from coming into play. So on this basis, for myself, I understand the last line primarily as a negation of the end-gaining attitude.

Several years ago I expressed to the late Marjory Barlow my anxiety that my teaching career wasn't going anywhere, that my effort to make Zazen devotees aware of the value of Alexander's discoveries, was falling on deaf ears. In reply, Marjory reminded me that this work has to do with growth, and growth cannot be hurried. So my understanding of the last line has to do with that teaching. I think the Buddha, like Marjory, was not simply out to deny sensual enjoyments; he was interested in growth, process, life. I think the essence of the Buddha's teaching is to be more interested in the means of maintaining one's own integrity than in any "Buddhist" end. In short, "To thine own self be true." And as always with these comments, the person I would most like to convince is myself. Because a part of me is not always content with this simple life of the hermit, the solitary miner. A part of me would like to be the great teacher, the magnate. It is nothing really, only an idea. But there again even the hint of an idea can be very poisonous to a process.

EH Johnston:
For the arrows of the five senses are tipped with the poison of fancies, have anxieties for their feathers and pleasure for their target and fly in the air of the objects of the senses.

Linda Covill:
For those arrows made of the five senses are smeared with the poison of fanciful notions; they have anxious preoccupations for tail-feathers, sensual bliss for arrow-heads, and they range through the space of sensory experience.


VOCABULARY:
saMkalpa: 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.); idea or expectation of any advantage
viSha: poison
dighdaaH = nom. plural of dighda: smeared , anointed ; soiled , defiled ; poisoned
hi: for

paNc'-endriya: the five senses, five sense organs
maya: [Apte] an affix used to indicate "made of", "consisting or composed of," "full of."
sharaaH = nom. plural of shara: arrow, shaft

cintaa: thought , care , anxiety , anxious thought
puNkhaaH = nom. plural of puNkha: m. the shaft or feathered part of an arrow (which comes in contact with the bowstring)
rati: f. rest , repose; pleasure , enjoyment ; the pleasure of love , sexual passion or union , amorous enjoyment
phalaaH = nom. plural of phala: the point of an arrow ; a point or spot on a die

viShaya: sphere (of activity); an object of sense (these are five in number , the five indriya , or organs of sense having each their proper viShaya or object , viz. 1. shabda , " sound " , for the ear; 2. sparsha , " tangibility " , for the skin ; 3. ruupa , " form " or " colour " , for the eye ; 4. rasa , " savour " , for the tongue ; 5. gandha , " odour " for the nose); 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
aakaasha: a free or open space , vacuity ; the ether , sky or atmosphere
gocaraaH = nom. plural of gacara: m. pasture ground for cattle ; range , field for action , abode , dwelling-place , district (esp. ifc. " abiding in , relating to " ; " offering range or field or scope for action , within the range of , accessible , attainable , within the power ") ; the range of the organs of sense , object of sense , anything perceptible by the senses , esp. the range of the eye

Sunday, August 9, 2009

SAUNDARANANDA 13.34: Sensing & Suffering

hanyamaanasya tair duHkhaM
haardaM bhavati vaa na vaa
indriyair baadhyamaanasya
haardaM shaariiram eva ca

= - = = - = = =
= = - - - = - =
= - = = - = = -
= = = = - = - -

13.34
The pain of being hit by those others

May or may not occur as suffering in the heart.

The suffering of being oppressed by one's senses

Occurs in the heart, and throughout the body.


DUST & FLUFF:
My life of 50 years, starting with a congenitally dodgy vestibular system, seems to have given me abundant raw material on which to draw for the purpose of understanding this verse.

The pain of being physically clobbered by others, as I know from being born to parents who were not averse to whacking me when I was a small child, can be felt both bodily and in the heart. There again, I know from experience in rugby and the martial arts that being painfully clobbered, by your mates in training or by the opposition in matches, doesn't have to be emotionally stressful: it can be good fun. And there are other ways too of being hit, by mates and non-mates, which do not involve physical clobbering but which can painfully wound the heart. So the first two lines, as I read them, are expressing this difference between simple pain and emotional suffering.

Incidentally, I have never physically clobbered my sons. All in all their mother and I have done a pretty good job of guiding their development, and that is something I draw confidence from. I am confident that those who have been abused, whether physically or emotionally, can stop the cycle of abuse in this life, by working on their own integrity. And if a man thinks himself too old to do this work, then he might as well be dead already. I was privileged to visit my Alexander head of training, Ray Evans, shortly before he died and he was evidently still working on himself in this way, still polishing a tile, never considering himself to be a finished article, but always a work in progress. Ray was a good and true father figure to me -- an 'enlightened witness' -- who put the means-whereby before any end.

The literal meaning of the 3rd line is "[the pain/suffering] of being pressed by the senses."

So what kind of pressing are we dealing with in the 3rd and 4th lines? I think we are dealing with a sensuality that can be oppressive and, on a level which is more difficult to understand, faulty sensory impulses whose action is suppressive.

Sensuality as an oppressive force, and one that can cause suffering to occur in the heart, is etched on my memory as the inside of a Japanese love hotel: a luxurious room, full of delights like much-fancied sexual partner, karaoke machine, video equipment, all kinds of bathroom fixtures and fittings, glittering chandeliers... but shuttered windows. I vividly remember more than 20 years ago stepping out of such a situation into the fresh morning air of a spring day, and listening to the birds. My heart absolutely sang, as if an oppressive burden had suddenly been lifted.

But this verse, again, strikes me as concerned with more than the potentially oppressive force of sensuality: I perceive a deeper meaning based on experiences in Alexander work. What FM Alexander called "faulty sensory appreciation" is invariably a suppressive force, and not only a psychological/emotional one but one that is woven into the physical fabric of a person's whole being.

At the deepest level of suffering, I submit, faulty sensory appreciation is a suppressive force that most people do not even begin to suspect that they are suffering from. But when they try to adopt a correct upright posture, they invariably show that they are suffering from it.

If one's sensory appreciation of uprightness is faulty, effort aimed at uprightness is easily liable to result in a fixity that manifests itself both physically and -- in rigid adherence to some -ism or other -- mentally too. When one's sitting is poisoned by the idea of a correct "posture," which by definition is something more or less fixed or held, one is suppressing the natural mechanisms that have evolved to keep a human being easily balanced and upright. A true aim of sitting, I submit, is to stop suppressing these natural mechanisms, to release them, to let them sing, to let them play.

Let them be released like a non-monk being released from a love hotel!

(Not forgetting that release is founded in indifference, conscious awareness, knowing and seeing, stillness, psycho-physical ease, higher-order assurance, enjoyment, higher-order happiness, freedom from remorse, and, ultimately, pristine practice of integrity.)

EH Johnston:
The man who is struck down by the former may or may not suffer in soul, but the man who is harried by the senses suffers in body and soul alike.

Linda Covill:
One may suffer emotionally when struck by an enemy -- or one may not. Yet when harried by the senses, one suffers both emotionally and physically.


VOCABULARY:
hanyamaanasya = genitive of hanyamaana: mfn. (present participle passive of han) being struck, smitten, slain etc.
taiH: by them
duHkham (nom.): n. pain, suffering

haarda: mfn. relating to or being in the heart
bhavati = 3rd pers. sing of bhuu: to become, be, arise, happen, occur
vaa na vaa: either or not

indriyaiH (instrumental, plural): by the senses
baadhyamaanasya = genitive of baadhyamaana (present participle passive of baadh): being harassed, oppressed etc.

haarda: mfn. relating to or being in the heart
shaariira: mfn. bodily , corporeal , relating or belonging to or being in or produced from or connected with the body
eva: (emphatic)
ca: and

Saturday, August 8, 2009

SAUNDARANANDA 13.33: On Not Being Smitten (2)

na ca prayaati narakaM
shatru-prabhRtibhir hataH
kRShyate tatra nighnas tu
capalair indriyair hataH

- = - = - - - =
= = - - - = - =
= - = = - = = -
- - = = - = - =

13.33
Nor does one go to hell

When smitten by the likes of an enemy;

But meekly is one pulled there

When smitten by the impetuous senses.


DUST & FLUFF:
This alcohol tastes good, especially in combination with tobacco, and that woman's figure looks terrific and she seems to fancy me and what my girlfriend doesn't know won't hurt her...

This relatively blatant route to hell is a more obvious illustration of the verse.

Another more insidious route to hell follows the following track:

This way of holding myself in the correct sitting posture, keeping the spine straight vertically, was uncomfortable at first but with daily practice it has started to feel more and more right; and this view which my teacher has transmitted to me as True Buddhism, which is beyond the intellectual and sensory viewpoints of ordinary people, but which is centred on this supreme practice of just sitting in the correct posture: this also is beginning to feel very right...

Both of these are examples of being pulled meekly to hell when smitten by senses which are, by nature, impetuous or impulsive, not directly susceptible to reason.

And in both cases, a way not to be smitten might be to rely on an indirect means for maintaining integrity which allows faulty feelings, in the first instance, not to be engaged; and thereafter to be by-passed.

Overly loose morality is generally recognised to be rooted in impulsive sensuality. Nobody in recent times recognised more clearly than FM Alexander that the opposite of overly loose morality, being tight and right, is also the result of faulty sensory impulses.

Q. E. D.

EH Johnston:
And a man does not go to Hell when killed by foes etc, but he is dragged there helplessly when beaten down by the restless senses.

Linda Covill:
And a man slain by an enemy, for example, does not go to hell. But all docile is he pulled there when smitten by his restless senses.


VOCABULARY:
na: not
ca: and
prayaati = 3rd person singular of pra-√i: to come forth , appear; to go on , proceed , come to , arrive at , enter (acc.)
narakam (acc.): hell

shatru: enemy
prabhRtibhiH = instrumental, plural of prabhRti: commencing with
hataH (nom.): one who is struck, beaten, smitten , killed , slain

kRShyate = 3rd person singular, passive of kRSh : to drag , pull
tatra: there
nighnaH (nom.): dependent , subservient , docile , obedient
tu: but

capalaiH = instrumental plural of capala: moving to and fro , shaking , trembling , unsteady , wavering; wanton , fickle , inconstant
indriyaiH (instrumental plural): by the senses
hataH (nom.): one who is struck, beaten, smitten , killed , slain

Friday, August 7, 2009

SAUNDARANANDA 13.32: A Universal Constant in Living?

dviShadbhiH shatrubhiH kash cit
kadaa cit piiDyate na vaa
indriyair baadhyate sarvaH
sarvatra ca sad" aaiva ca.

- = = = - = = =
- = = = - = - =
= - = = - = = =
= = - - - = - -

13.32
Some people are beleaguered by hateful enemies

Some of the time -- or they are not.

Everybody is besieged by the senses

Everywhere, all of the time.


DUST & FLUFF:
The Buddha's words, spoken out of full awakening, are traditionally described as golden. How can I know what they mean? I don't know. So every bit of dust & fluff served up here is prefaced by the unresolved question of what point there is in me saying anything in the way of commentary. I don't know what the Buddha means. All I really know is that the wrong views, rooted in faulty sensory appreciation, that I formerly thought were true, were in fact wrong. Chief among those wrong views, centred on feeling what is wrong to be right, is a wrong view about what correct posture is.

At an Alexander training school where I go to work once a week during term time, there is a noisy old fridge. Sometimes it is not until the fridge sends itself to sleep and clatters to a halt that I notice how much its noise was bothering me. What I experience then, when my vestibular-auditory system is no longer being besieged by the fridge's rattling and whining, is a sense of relief and enjoyment of what seems to me to be quietness.

My early experiences with Alexander work were very like somebody coming along and turning off a noisy fridge. Wow! I never realised it could be this quiet!

I think what the Buddha might be saying here is that what I thus experience as quietness is in fact only an easing of the sensory bombardment which is always going on, whether I am aware of it or not.

If this is the gist, moreover, the Buddha is not actually saying that something like the noise of the fridge is always bothering me. More exactly, he is saying that my own sense of the noise of the fridge is bothering me. In Alexander work we would say Don't blame the stimulus: the fault lies in your reaction to the stimulus.

Again, Marjory Barlow used to say, "We can't control our feelings. Our feelings control us." This kind of expression seems to imbue feelings with their own power. Similarly, the Sanskrit word indriya originally means "power, force, the quality which belongs especially to the mighty Indra."

So, in harmony with the whole tone of the epic poem of Saundarananda, another military metaphor is emerging. Integrity is our base; it is a refuge, it is wealth, and it is strength. Ranged against it as a besieging force is the power of the senses.

And, even though we may not be aware of it, when the fridge quietens down, or if we run away to the relative peace of the forest, we are still under constant siege from sensory bombardment. The Buddha is saying here, in no uncertain terms, that the bombardment is universal -- for everybody, everywhere, at all times.

Even though I can't feel the truth of what the Buddha is saying, I am listening to what the Buddha is saying and endeavouring to understand it on the basis of reason, on the basis of 2 + 2 = 4. Because, regardless of how I feel about it, 2 + 2 constantly equals 4. If the power of the senses is a besieging force, then the power of reason might be a reliable defensive weapon. So then, reasonably, let me ask:

How many other feelings might be bothering me, as my sense of the fridge was bothering me, below the level of my conscious awareness?

I don't know.

How many other feelings might be misleading me, as my faulty sense of uprightness was misleading me, below the level of my conscious awareness?

I don't know.

EH Johnston:
Rabid foes oppress some people sometimes or they may not do so, but everyone is always everywhere harassed by the senses.

Linda Covill:
Some people are sometimes persecuted by malevolent enemies -- or they are not; but at every moment everyone, everywhere, is harried by the senses.


VOCABULARY:
dviShadbhiH = instrumental, plural of dviShat: mfn. (from dviS, to hate) hating or detesting , hostile , unfriendly , foe , enemy
shatrubhiH = instrumental, plural of shatru: enemy, foe, rival
kash cit: someone, some people

kadaa cit: at some time or other , sometimes
piiDyate = 3rd person singular, passive of piiD: to press , squeeze; to hurt , harm , injure , oppress , pain , vex ; to beleaguer (a city)
na: not
vaa: or

indriyaiH (instrumental plural): by the senses
baadhyate = 3rd person sg., passive of baadh: , to press , force , drive away , repel , remove ; to harass , pain , trouble , grieve , vex ; to resist , oppose , check , stop , prevent
sarvaH (nom.): all, all people

sarvatra: ind. everywhere , in every case , always , at all times
ca: and
sadaa: ind. always , ever , every time , continually , perpetually
eva: (emphatic)
ca: and

Thursday, August 6, 2009

SAUNDARANANDA 13.31: On Not Being Forever Smitten

bhetavyaM na tathaa shatror
n' aagner n' aaher na c' aashaneH
indriyebhyo yathaa svebhyas
tair ajasraM hi hanyate

= = = - - = = =
= = = = - = - =
= - = = - = = =
= - = = - = - =

13.31
There is less to fear from an enemy

Or from fire, or from a snake, or from lightning,

Than there is from one's own senses;

For through them one is forever being smitten.


DUST & FLUFF:
When I look back on experiences of being smitten in particular by female form, scent, feel and sound, this verse rings all too true.

Speaking of being smitten, in the two weeks that I have been enjoying myself here alone by the forest, I have ventured out to the shops only once. But the French girl who took my money at the petrol kiosk was a sight for sore eyes. For a moment I stood there, to use one of Ashvaghosha's metaphors, like a charmed snake. As I drove away, I felt happy to be of an age where actively chasing such beauty is no longer a compulsion. I hope I was more like a gardener appreciating the beauty of a healthy young plant, than a hungry man surveying a sandwich. But the episode reminded me that I am not immune to being struck by lightning and the rest.

If a descendant in the lineage of Ashvaghosha is tempted to throw away his integrity, out of greed, can he be a true descendant of Ashvaghosha? And if he is not a true descendant of Ashvaghosha, without a sound base in integrity, what kind of movement might he found? Honestly not knowing the answer to these questions, which maybe only time can answer, I am carrying on with solitary sitting practice and this translation work, guided I hope by understanding of Alexander's principle of integrity. The general principle might be that if its foundation lacks integrity, a structure is liable before long to collapse.

Peter Blythe, a true pioneer in understanding the importance of vestibular reflexes, described the vestibular system as "the foundation stone of living." If the foundation stone is wobbly, I figure, it might be better to sit happily in a small shed rather than precariously atop a high tower.

When I speak of sitting happily in a small shed, I am not only speaking metaphorically: I built a small shed for sitting at the bottom of the garden of the house where the Cross family lives in Aylesbury. The foundations of that shed, though, are not at all wobbly, being several inches of concrete. While I was in the process of laying those foundations, working without a light as darkness fell, a cement mixer fell off its stand and its handle whacked me squarely in the middle of the forehead. I bear the scar to prove it. But the pain I suffered then was as nothing compared to the pain I suffered as a lusty young guy when separated from the object of my emotional and sensory craving.

Whereas my battered skull somehow resumed its already somewhat lopsided shape within a matter of weeks, those feelings have taken years and years and years even to begin to fade. Thus it is, and thus it ever was. How to thwart the power of such feelings through the practise of integrity is a problem I have been struggling with for 30 years. The way that a young man's mind works is such that he feels that once his sensual desire has been consumated, everything will be all right. But the truth is that the pull of the senses can never be thwarted relying on sensory means. As soon as we fall back on the senses, we are smitten. In this sense, we are forever being smitten. Only by desiring to follow a means that by-passes feeling can we prevent ourselves, moment by moment, from being smitten.

Later in this canto the Buddha gives advice on looking at all sensory stimuli without attachment or aversion. I haven't got that far yet. But the Buddha has told us already where to go for refuge, whenever lightning may strike, and it is not necessarily under a tree. That said, living alone by the forest is definitely a help, as the Buddha will also indicate in Canto 14.

EH Johnston:
A man should not so fear an enemy, fire, a snake or a thunderbolt as he should his own senses ; for the latter are ever aggressive.

Linda Covill:
for one's own senses, ever injurious, are more to be feared than an enemy, a fire, a snake or a thunderbolt.

VOCABULARY:
bhetavya: mfn. to be feared or dreaded
na: not
tathaa (correlative of yathaa): so, so much as
shatroH = ablative of shatru: m. enemy

na: not
aagneH = ablative of agni: m. fire
na: not
aher = ablative of ahi: m. snake
na: not
ca: and
ashaneH = ablative of ashani: f. the thunderbolt , a flash of lightning

indriyebhyaH = ablative, plural of indriya: sense
yathaa: as, as much as
svebhyaH = ablative, plural of sva: one's own

taiH (instrumental, plural of saH): by them
ajasram: ind. perpetually , for ever , ever
hi: for
hanyate = 3rd person singular passive of han: to strike , beat ; to smite , slay , hit , kill , mar , destroy ; to hurt, wound ; to obstruct , hinder

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

SAUNDARANANDA 13.30: May Consciousness Emerge

tataH smRtim adhiShThaaya
capalaani sva-bhaavataH
indriyaan' indriy'-arthebhyo
nivaarayitum arhasi

- = - - - = = -
- - = = - = - =
= - = = - = = =
- = - - - = - -

13.30
On that basis, standing grounded in awareness,

The naturally impetuous senses

From the objects of those senses

You should hold back.


DUST & FLUFF:
"On that basis" (tataH) seems to mean on the basis of a real need, and indeed of a real desire, to go in the direction of release and to work on integrity, starting afresh from here.

As a translation of smRti, as I see it, there is nothing wrong with mindfulness. But there is invariably something wrong with how people react to the word. On one side are the reactions of those who call themselves Buddhist meditators. On the other side are the reactions of those who consider themselves not to be meditators but to be iron men of Zen who just sit in the correct posture. On one side mindfulness tends to be associated with a slumped posture, tending towards fear paralysis. On the other side antagonism to mindfulness tends to be associated with rigidity of posture and view, tending towards blind panic.

If I say that one side is not it and the other side is not it either, but I of the middle way am truly mindful, that would not be it either. True mindfulness tends not to know itself.

To some extent I know when I am really down, sitting in a slumped posture, or sitting in a fixed posture. To some extent I can feel the wrong thing -- those sensory impulses, giving negative feedback, are more reliable. But the middle is a way beyond posture, a way of not knowing. And recognition of not knowing is a basis for not following instinctive sensory impulses. Since my feeling of where up lies is false, what is the point of reacting blindly to the impulse to sit up straight?

Which way is up? I only know that is not where my senses are prone to lead me: down.

On BBC Radio 4 I heard a feature about a new style of women's prison in Spain, designed to enable mothers to serve out their sentence without causing undue distress to their young children. One of the inmates reported that living in that community had helped her to learn to not always act so impulsively, but to think before she acted.

Again on Radio 4, former Australian opening batsman Matthew Hayden spoke of making an effort, ball by ball, to watch the cricket ball from the bowler's hand onto the bat.

These, I think, are real examples of mindfulness -- mindfulness in which there is no mindfulness of a virtue called mindfulness, but the beginning of thinking in activity, and heightened awareness including a round red object.

Holding back the senses, as I read this verse, does not mean becoming stilted in one's actions; and neither does it mean failing to watch the ball.

Nivaarayitum
, "to hold back," is describing, as I read it, the withholding of consent to one's first unconscious reaction to a stimulus perceived through the senses; it is not describing suppression of desire. For a person who desires to take the backward step of turning his light and shining, so that body and mind spontaneously drop off and his original face emerges, it might be natural to want to hold back the senses in this way, so that a gap is created between stimulus and response. And that might be the very gap in which consciousness emerges.

Slumping and fixing are unconscious postural reactions based on faulty sensory appreciation. Human beings can become more conscious by learning to inhibit such reactions, beginning afresh in the first person singular, from here.

This is what Marjory Barlow taught me; and this is where this verse, as I read it, is leading.

EH Johnston:
Then you should hold back your senses from their objects by fixing your attention, since they are by nature restless.

Linda Covill:
Next, establishing mindfulness, hold back those naturally restless senses from sensory experience,


VOCABULARY:
tatas: from that place, thence; thereupon , then , after that ; from that , in consequence of that
smRtim (acc.): f. remembrance , reminiscence , thinking of or upon (loc. or comp.) , calling to mind
adhiShThaaya = absolutive of adhiShTaa: to stand upon , depend upon ; to superintend , govern ; to step over or across ; to overcome to ascend , mount ; to attain , arrive at

capalaani = acc. plural n. of capala: moving to and fro , shaking , trembling , unsteady , wavering; wanton , fickle , inconstant
svabhaava: own condition or state of being , natural state or constitution , innate or inherent disposition , nature , impulse , spontaneity
- taH: ablative suffix
sva-bhaavatas: from natural disposition , by nature , naturally , by one's self , spontaneously

indriyaani (acc., plural): senses
indriya-arthebhyaH = ablative, plural of indriya-artha: object of the senses
artha: aim; thing, object; object of the senses,

nivaarayitum = infinitive of ni-√vR: to hold back from (abl.) , prohibit , hinder , stop , prevent , withhold , suppress , forbid
arhasi: you should

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

SAUNDARANANDA 13.29: Polishing

yataH shiilam ataH saumya
shiilaM saMskartum arhasi
etat sthaanam anyeShu ca
mokSh'-aarambheShu yoginaam

- = = - - = = -
= = = = - = - -
= = = - = = - -
= = = = - = - =

13.29
Since integrity is such, my friend,

You should work on integrity.

And, among those who practise, this is the stance

Towards different endeavours whose aim is release.


COMMENT:
ShiilaM saMskartum arhasi, "You should work on integrity," means, as I read it, in other words: "You should persist in polishing a tile."

Even if we clearly understand the principle, in polishing a tile, of being without expectation of making a mirror, that doesn't mean that somewhere deep in the heart, unbeknowns to the brain, an expectation isn't hiding.

Sometimes it takes a big disappointment to help us realise that we were harbouring a big expectation!

A way out of that predicament exists not in trying to annihilate egoistic expectation, but rather in finding a tile to keep on polishing.

Etat sthanam,
"this stance," means, as I read it, this readiness to polish a tile.

Yoginaam, "among those who practice," refers, as I read it, to the community of true individuals, friends (saumya), who walk the walk in the direction of release from the bondage of groupthink and habit. What branch of yoga people identify us with does not matter.

EH Johnston:
Since discipline is such, my friend, you ought to perfect it. Further those who practise Yoga take their stand on it in the other undertakings towards emancipation.

Linda Covill:
Since this is moral self-restraint, dear friend, you must make it perfect. This is the position adopted by practitioners in their various endeavors for liberation.


VOCABULARY:
yatas: whence, wherefrom, for which reason
shiilam (nom): good conduct, integrity
atas: hence, from this, from this reason
saumya: my friend

shiilam (acc.): good conduct, integrity
saMskartum = infinitive of saMskR: to put together , form well , join together , compose ; to adorn , embellish , refine , elaborate , make perfect , (esp.) form language according to strict rules
arhasi: you should

etat: n. this
sthaanam: n. the act of standing, stance, position
anyeShu = locative, plural of anya: other, different
ca: and , both , also , moreover , as well

mokSha: m. emancipation , liberation , release
arambheShu = locative, plural of arambha: m. undertaking , beginning ; a thing begun ; effort, exertion
yoginaam = genitive, plural of yogin: m. a follower of the yoga system , a yogin (usually called yogii) or contemplative saint , devotee , ascetic;