When the thirteenth retreat season ended, the Buddha returned to Savatthi. Svasti and Rahula followed him. Svasti had ordained just a few months before, when he turned twenty-one. His sisters and brother were now old enough to be on their own as a family, and they knew how much Svasti had always wanted to study with the Buddha. It was the first time Svasti had been to Jetavana Monastery. He was delighted to discover how beautiful and inviting a place it was to practice. Jetavana was cool, refreshing, and friendly. Everyone smiled warmly at Svasti. They knew that the Sutra on Tending Water Buffaloes had been inspired by him. Svasti was confident that in so supportive an environment he would make great progress in his practice. He was beginning to understand why the Sangha was as important as the Buddha and the Dharma. Sangha was the community of persons practicing the Way of Awareness. It provided support and guidance. It was necessary to take refuge in the sangha.
Rahula turned twenty years old, and Sariputta performed his ordination ceremony. He was now a fully-ordained bhikkhu, and all the community rejoiced. Venerable Sariputta devoted several days prior to the ordination to give Rahula special teaching. Svasti accompanied him during these sessions and so benefited from Sariputta’s teaching as well.
After Rahula’s ordination, the Buddha also spent time teaching him different methods of contemplation. Svasti was invited to these sessions, too. The Buddha taught them the contemplation on the six sense organs: eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind; on the six sense objects: forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, and objects of mind; and the six sense consciousnesses: eye consciousness, ear consciousness, nose consciousness, taste consciousness, body consciousness, and mind consciousness. The Buddha showed them how to look deeply into the impermanent nature of these eighteen domains of sense, called the eighteen dhatus, which comprised the six sense organs; the six sense objects; and the six sense consciousnesses, or internal objects of sense. Perceptions arose because of contact between a sense organ and a sense object. All the domains of sense depended on each other for existence; they were all impermanent and interdependent. If one could understand that, one could penetrate the truth of the emptiness of self and transcend birth and death.
The Buddha gave Rahula the teaching on the emptiness of self in great detail. He said, “Rahula, among the five skandhas—body, feelings, perceptions, mental formations, and consciousness—there is nothing that can be considered to be permanent and nothing that can be called a ‘self.’ The body is not the self. The body is not something that belongs to the self either. The self cannot be found in the body, and the body cannot be found in the self.
“There are three kinds of views of self. The first is that this body is the self, or these feelings, perceptions, mental formations, or consciousness are the self. This is ‘the belief in skandha as self,’ and it is the first wrong view. But when one says, ‘The skandhas are not the self,’ one may fall into the second wrong view and believe that the self is something that exists independently from the skandhas and that the skandhas are its possessions. This second wrong view is called ‘skandha is different from the self.’ The third wrong view consists in the belief that there is a presence of the self in the skandhas, and there is the presence of the skandhas in the self. This is called ‘the belief in the presence of skandhas and self in each other.’
“Rahula, practicing deeply the meditation on the emptiness of the self means looking into the five skandhas in order to see that they are neither self, belonging to self, nor interbeing with self. Once we overcome these three wrong views, we can experience the true nature of ‘emptiness of all dharmas.’”
Svasti noticed how a bhikkhu at Jetavana named Thera never spoke to anyone else. He always walked alone. Venerable Thera did not disturb anyone nor did he violate any precepts, and yet it seemed to Svasti that he did not live in genuine harmony with the rest of the community. Once Svasti tried to speak with him, but he walked away without responding. The other bhikkhus nicknamed him “the one who lives alone.” Svasti had often heard the Buddha encourage the bhikkhus to avoid idle talk, meditate more, and develop self-sufficiency. But Svasti felt that Venerable Thera was not living the kind of self-sufficiency the Buddha intended. Confused, Svasti decided to ask the Buddha about it.
The next day, during his Dharma talk, the Buddha summoned the elder Thera. He asked him, “Is it true that you prefer to keep to yourself and that you do all things alone, avoiding contact with other bhikkhus?”
The bhikkhu answered, “Yes, Lord, that is true. You have told us to be self-sufficient and to practice being alone.”
The Buddha turned to the community and said, “Bhikkhus, I will explain what true self-sufficiency is and what is the better way to live alone. A self-sufficient person is a person who dwells in mindfulness. He is aware of what is going on in the present moment, what is going on in his body, feelings, mind, and objects of mind. He knows how to look deeply at things in the present moment. He does not pursue the past nor lose himself in the future, because the past no longer is and the future has not yet come. Life can only take place in the present moment. If we lose the present moment, we lose life. This is the better way to live alone.
“Bhikkhus, what is meant by ‘pursuing the past’? To pursue the past means to lose yourself in thoughts about what you looked like in the past, what your feelings were then, what rank and position you held, what happiness or suffering you experienced then. Giving rise to such thoughts entangles you in the past.
“Bhikkhus, what is meant by ‘losing yourself in the future’? To lose yourself in the future means to lose yourself in thoughts about the future. You imagine, hope, fear, or worry about the future, wondering what you will look like, what your feelings will be, whether you will have happiness or suffering. Giving rise to such thoughts entangles you in the future.
“Bhikkhus, return to the present moment in order to be in direct contact with life and to see life deeply. If you cannot make direct contact with life, you cannot see deeply. Mindfulness enables you to return to the present moment. But if you are enslaved by desires and anxieties over what is happening in the present, you will lose your mindfulness and you will not be truly present to life.
“Bhikkhus, one who really knows how to be alone dwells in the present moment, even if he is sitting in the midst of a crowd. If a person sitting alone in the middle of a forest is not mindful, if he is haunted by the past and future, he is not truly alone.”
The Buddha then recited a gatha to summarize his teaching:
Do not pursue the past.
Do not lose yourself in the future.
The past no longer is.
The future has not yet come.
Looking deeply at life as it is
in the very here and now,
the practitioner dwells
in stability and freedom.
We must be diligent today.
To wait until tomorrow is too late.
Death comes unexpectedly.
How can we bargain with it?
The sage calls a person who knows
how to dwell in mindfulness
‘one who knows
the better way to live alone.’
After reading the gatha, the Buddha thanked Thera and invited him to be seated again. The Buddha had neither praised nor criticized Thera, but it was clear that the bhikkhu now had a better grasp of what the Buddha meant by being self-sufficient or being alone.
During the Dharma discussion that took place later that evening, Svasti listened to the senior disciples say how important the Buddha’s words had been that morning. Venerable Ananda repeated the Buddha’s discourse, including the gatha, word for word. Svasti was always amazed at Ananda’s memory. Ananda even spoke with the same stress on words as the Buddha. When Ananda was finished, Mahakaccana stood up and said, “I would like to suggest that we make a formal sutra of the Buddha’s teaching this morning. I further suggest that we name it the Bhaddekaratta Sutta, the Sutra on Knowing the Better Way to Live Alone. Every bhikkhu should memorize this sutra and put it into practice.”
Mahakassapa stood up and voiced his support for Mahakaccana’s idea.
The next morning when the bhikkhus were out begging, they encountered a group of children playing by the rice paddies. The children had caught a crab which one boy held down with his forefinger. With his other hand, he ripped one of the crab’s claws off. The other children clapped their hands and squealed. Pleased with their reaction, the boy ripped the other claw off. Then he tore all of the crab’s legs off, one by one. He tossed the crab back into the paddy and caught another one.
When the children saw the Buddha and bhikkhus arrive, they bowed their heads and then returned to tormenting the next crab. The Buddha told the children to stop. He said, “Children, if someone ripped off your arm or leg, would it hurt?”
“Yes, Teacher,” the children answered.
“Did you know that crabs feel pain just as you do?”
The children did not answer.
The Buddha continued, “The crab eats and drinks just like you. It has parents, brothers, and sisters. When you make it suffer, you make its family suffer as well. Think about what you are doing.”
The children appeared sorry for what they had done. Seeing that other villagers had gathered around to see what he and the children were talking about, the Buddha used the occasion to offer a teaching about compassion.
He said, “Every living being deserves to enjoy a sense of security and well-being. We should protect life and bring happiness to others. All living beings, whether large or small; whether two-legged or four-legged; whether swimmers or fliers, have a right to live. We should not harm or kill other living beings. We should protect life.
“Children, just as a mother loves and protects her only child at the risk of her own life, we should open our hearts to protect all living beings. Our love should encompass every living being on, below, within, outside, and around us. Day and night, whether standing or walking, sitting or lying down, we should dwell in that love.”
The Buddha asked the children to release the crab they had caught. Then he told everyone, “Meditating on love in this way brings happiness first to the one who practices it. You sleep better and wake up more at ease; you do not have nightmares; you are neither sorrowful nor anxious; and you are protected by everyone and everything around you. Those people and beings you bring into your mind of love and compassion bring you great joy and, slowly, their suffering leaves them.”
Svasti knew that the Buddha was committed to sharing the teaching with children. To help with that, he and Rahula organized special classes for children at Jetavana. With the assistance of young laypersons, especially Sudatta’s four children, the young people gathered for special teaching once a month. Sudatta’s son, Kala, was not very enthusiastic at first about attending. He only did so because he was fond of Svasti. But, little by little, his interest grew. Princess Vajiri, the king’s daughter, also lent her support to these classes.
One full moon day, she asked the children to bring flowers to offer to the Buddha. The children arrived with flowers picked from their own gardens and from fields along the way to the monastery. Princess Vajiri brought an armful of lotus flowers she had gathered from the palace’s lotus pool. When she and the children went to find the Buddha at his hut, they learned he was in the Dharma hall preparing to give a discourse to both bhikkhus and laypersons. The princess led the children quietly into the hall. All the adults moved to make a pathway for the children. They placed their flowers on the small table in front of the Buddha and then bowed. The Buddha smiled and bowed in return. He invited the children to sit right in front of him.
The Buddha’s Dharma talk that day was most special. He waited for the children to be seated quietly, and then he slowly stood up. He picked up one of the lotus flowers and held it up before the community. He did not say anything. Everyone sat perfectly still. The Buddha continued to hold up the flower without saying anything for a long time. People were perplexed and wondered what he meant by doing that. Then the Buddha looked out over the community and smiled.
He said, “I have the eyes of true Dharma, the treasure of wondrous insight, and I have just transmitted it to Mahakassapa.”
Everyone turned to look at Venerable Kassapa and saw that he was smiling. His eyes had not wavered from the Buddha and the lotus he held. When the people looked back at the Buddha, they saw that he too was looking at the lotus and smiling.
Though Svasti felt perplexed, he knew that the most important thing was to maintain mindfulness. He began to observe his breath as he looked at the Buddha. The white lotus in the Buddha’s hand had newly blossomed. The Buddha held it in a most gentle, noble gesture. His thumb and forefinger held the stem of the flower which trailed the shape of his hand. His hand was as beautiful as the lotus itself, pure and wondrous. Suddenly, Svasti truly saw the pure and noble beauty of the flower. There was nothing to think about. Quite naturally, a smile arose on his face.
The Buddha began to speak. “Friends, this flower is a wondrous reality. As I hold the flower before you, you all have a chance to experience it. Making contact with a flower is to make contact with a wondrous reality. It is making contact with life itself.
“Mahakassapa smiled before anyone else because he was able to make contact with the flower. As long as obstacles remain in your minds, you will not be able to make contact with the flower. Some of you asked yourselves, ‘Why is Gautama holding that flower up? What is the meaning of his gesture?’ If your minds are occupied with such thoughts, you cannot truly experience the flower.
“Friends, being lost in thoughts is one of the things that prevents us from making true contact with life. If you are ruled by worry, frustration, anxiety, anger, or jealousy, you will lose the chance to make real contact with all the wonders of life.
“Friends, the lotus in my hand is only real to those of you who dwell mindfully in the present moment. If you do not return to the present moment, the flower does not truly exist. There are people who can pass through a forest of sandalwood trees without ever really seeing one tree. Life is filled with suffering, but it also contains many wonders. Be aware in order to see both the suffering and the wonders in life.
“Being in touch with suffering does not mean to become lost, in it. Being in touch with the wonders of life does not mean to lose ourselves in them either. Being in touch is to truly encounter life, to see it deeply. If we directly encounter life, we will understand its interdependent and impermanent nature. Thanks to that, we will no longer lose ourselves in desire, anger, and craving. We will dwell in freedom and liberation.”
Svasti felt happy. He was glad he had smiled and understood before the Buddha spoke. Venerable Mahakassapa had smiled first. He was one of Svasti’s teachers and a senior disciple who had traveled far on the path. Svasti knew he could not compare himself to Mahakassapa and the other elders like Sariputta, Moggallana, and Assaji. After all, he was still only twenty-four years old!