Aniccà vata
saïkhàrà
Þ
ßImpermanent,
alas, are all formations!û
Þ is
the phrase used in
The word
saïkhàrà is
derived from the prefix saü, meaning
ßtogether,û joined to the noun kàra,
ßdoing,
making.û
Saïkhàras are
thus
ßco-doings,û
things that act in concert with other things, or things that are made by a
combination of other things. Translators have rendered the word in many
different ways: formations, confections, activities, processes, forces,
compounds, compositions, fabrications, determinations, synergies,
constructions. All are attempts to capture the meaning of a philosophical
concept for which we have no exact parallel, and thus all English renderings
are bound to be imprecise. I myself use
ßformationsû and
ßvolitional formations,û aware this choice is as defective as any
other.
However, though it is impossible to discover an exact
English equivalent for
saïkhàrà, by exploring its actual usage we can still gain insight into
how the word functions in the
ßthought
worldû of
the Dhamma. In the suttas the word occurs in three major doctrinal contexts.
One is in the twelvefold formula of dependent origination (pa~nicca-samuppàda), where the
saïkhàras are
the second link in the series. They are said to be conditioned by ignorance and
to function as a condition for consciousness. Putting together statements from
various suttas, we can see that the
saïkhàras are
the kammically active volitions responsible for generating rebirth and thus for
sustaining the onward movement of saüsàra,
the round of birth and death. In this context
saïkhàrà is
virtually synonymous with kamma, a word to which it is etymologically akin.
The suttas distinguish the
saïkhàras
active in dependent origination into three types: bodily, verbal, and mental.
Again, the
saïkhàras are divided into the
meritorious, demeritorious, and
ßimperturbable,û
i.e., the volitions present in the four formless meditations. When ignorance
and craving underlie our stream of consciousness, our volitional actions of
body, speech, and mind become forces with the capacity to produce results, and
of the results they produce the most significant is the renewal of the stream
of consciousness following death. It is the
saïkhàras,
propped up by ignorance and fuelled by craving, that drive the stream of
consciousness onwards to a new mode of rebirth, and
exactly where consciousness becomes established is determined by the kammic
character of the
saïkhàras. If
one engages in meritorious deeds, the
saïkhàras or
volitional formations will propel consciousness towards a happy sphere of
rebirth. If one engages in demeritorious deeds, the
saïkhàras will
propel consciousness towards a miserable rebirth. And if one attains the
formless meditations, these
ßimperturbableû
saïkhàras will
propel consciousness towards rebirth in the formless realms.
A second major domain where the word
saïkhàras
appears is among the five aggregates. The fourth aggregate is the
saïkhàra-khandha, the
aggregate of volitional formations. The texts define the
saïkhàra-khandha as
the six classes of volition (cha
cetanàkàyà):
volition regarding forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, and ideas.
Though these
saïkhàras
correspond closely to those in the formula of dependent origination, the two
are not in all respects the same, for the
saïkhàra-khandha has
a wider range. The aggregate of volitional formations comprises all kinds of
volition. It includes not merely those that are kammically potent, but also
those that are kammic results and those that are kammically inoperative. In the
later
Pali
literature the
saïkhàra-khandha
becomes an umbrella category for all the factors of mind except feeling and
perception, which are assigned to aggregates of their own. Thus the
saïkhàra-khandha
comes to include such ethically variable factors as contact, attention,
thought, and energy; such wholesome factors as generosity, kindness, and
wisdom; and such unwholesome factors as greed, hatred, and delusion. Since all
these factors arise in conjunction with volition and participate in volitional
activity, the early Buddhist teachers decided that the most fitting place to
assign them is the aggregate of volitional formations.
The third major domain in which the word
saïkhàrà
occurs is as a designation for all conditioned things. In this context the word
has a passive derivation: it denotes whatever is formed by a combination of
conditions; whatever is conditioned, constructed, or compounded. In this sense
it might be rendered simply
ßformations,û without the qualifying adjective. As
bare formations,
saïkhàras
include all five aggregates, not just the fifth. The term also includes
external objects and situations such as mountains, fields, and forests; towns
and cities; food and drink; jewellery, cars, and computers.
The fact that
saïkhàras can
include both active forces and the things produced by them is highly
significant and secures for the term its role as the cornerstone of the
Buddha's philosophical vision. For what the Buddha emphasises is that the
saïkhàras in
the two active senses
Þ the
volitional formations operative in dependent origination, and the kammic
volitions in the fourth aggregate
Þ construct the
saïkhàras in
the passive sense:
ßThey
construct the conditioned; therefore they are called volitional formations. And
what are the conditioned things that they construct? They construct the body,
feeling, perception, volitional formations, and consciousness; therefore they
are called volitional formationsû (SN 22:79).
Though external inanimate things may be due to purely
physical causes, the
saïkhàras that
make up our personal being
Þ the
five aggregates
Þ are
all products of the kammically active
saïkhàras that
we engendered in our previous lives. In the present life as well the five
aggregates are constantly being maintained, refurbished, and extended by the
volitional activity we engage in now, which again becomes a condition for
future existence. Thus, the Buddha teaches, it was our own kammically formative
saïkhàras that built up our present
edifice of personal being, and it is our present formative
saïkhàras that
are now building up the edifices of personal being we will inhabit in our
future lives. These edifices consist of nothing other than
saïkhàras as
conditioned things, the conditioned formations comprised in the five
aggregates.
The most important fact to understand about
saïkhàras, as
conditioned formations, is that they are all impermanent:
ßImpermanent,
alas, are formations.û They
are impermanent not only in the sense that in their gross manifestations they
will eventually come to an end, but even more pointedly because at the subtle,
subliminal level they are constantly undergoing rise and fall, forever coming
into being and then, in a split second, breaking up and perishing:
ßTheir
very nature is to arise and vanish.û For this reason the Buddha declares that all
saïkhàras are
suffering (sabbe
saïkhàrà dukkhà)
Þ
suffering, however, not because they are all actually painful and stressful,
but because they are stamped with the mark of transience and thus cannot
provide stable happiness and security.
To win complete release from suffering
Þ not
only from experiential suffering, but from the unsatisfactoriness intrinsic to
all conditioned existence
Þ we
must gain release from
saïkhàras. And
what lies beyond the
saïkhàras is
that which is not constructed, not put together, not compounded. This is
Nibbàna, accordingly called the Unconditioned
Þ asaïkhata
Þ the
opposite of what is
saïkhata, a
word which is the passive participle corresponding to
saïkhàra.
Nibbàna is called the Unconditioned precisely because it's a state that is
neither itself a
saïkhàra nor
constructed by
saïkhàras; a
state described as visaïkhàra,
ßdevoid
of formations,û and as sabbasaïkhàra-samatha,
ßthe stilling of all
formations.û
Thus, when we put the word
saïkhàra
under our microscope, we see compressed within it the entire worldview of the
Dhamma. The active
saïkhàras
consisting in kammically active volitions perpetually create the
saïkhàras of
the five aggregates that constitute our being. As long as we continue to
identify with the five aggregates (the work of ignorance) and to seek enjoyment
in them (the work of craving), we go on spewing out the volitional formations
that build up future combinations of the aggregates. These aggregates
Þ
impermanent, unreliable, and deceptive
Þ are the suffering from which we need deliverance.
When, however, we take up the practice of the Dhamma, we
apply a brake to this relentless generation of
saïkhàras. We
learn to see the true nature of the
saïkhàras, of
our own five aggregates: as impermanent, prone to suffering, and devoid of a
substantial self. Thereby the engine driven by ignorance and craving is
arrested at its root and the process of kammic construction, the production of
active
saïkhàras, is effectively
deconstructed. By putting an end to the constructing of conditioned reality, we
open the door to what is ever-present but not constructed, not conditioned: the
asaïkhata-dhàtu, the unconditioned element. This is Nibbàna, the Deathless,
the stilling of volitional activities, the final liberation from all
conditioned formations and thus from impermanence and death. Therefore our
verse concludes:
ßThe
subsiding of formations is blissful!û
Bhikkhu Bodhi
From
Other Publishers
The
Piyadassi: The Wandering
Monk. Kirthi Abeysekera. 200 pp. U.S.
$5.00; SL Rs. 150.
The
Spectrum of Buddhism.
Piyadassi
Thera. 447 pp. U.S. $15.00; SL Rs. 350.
A
Pali Primer.
Lily
De Silva. 152 pp. U.S. $5.00; SL Rs. 175.
One
Night's Shelter. Yogavacara Rahula. 462 pp.
Early
History of Buddhism in
Humour in
Pali Literature.
Walpola
Rahula. 42 pp.
Forest Recollections:
Wandering Monks in 20th Century
John D. Ireland. We regret to announce, somewhat
belatedly, the death from emphysema of John Ireland, one of our esteemed
authors, on 29 October 1998. Born in
Translations.
Recently, a spate of BPS titles have
found their way into other languages. The Comprehensive
Manual of Abhidhamma has appeared in a beautiful Spanish edition published
by El Colegio del Mexico under the title Compendia
del Abhidhamma. The same work has also been published in a Chinese
translation, intended for free distribution from
The
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01865 750 079; E-mail: lavismarkt@aol.com. The cassettes cover the following
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Book Review
What Buddhists Believe. Elizabeth J. Harris.
Amidst the
flood of introductory works on Buddhism already available, this book occupies a
niche of its own by reason of its innovative and unique style of presentation.
The author, Elizabeth Harris, has based the book on a radio series called ßThe Way of the Buddhaû that she prepared for BBC, first aired in 1996. In both the radio
series and the book, she draws together interviews with Buddhists both in
To collect material for the radio series
Þ and
thus the book
Þ
Harris travelled to
In contrast to the typical introductory survey of
Buddhism, Harris has not divided the religion up into separate schools and
systems, to be compared and contrasted one against the others. She has chosen
to treat Buddhism as an organic whole
Þ a whole in which differences serve to provide
functional variety rather than confrontational opposition. By systematic
organisation of her material, she brings to light the subtle variations in
doctrine and practice spread out across the Buddhist world, but she also
reveals the high degree of accord that underlies the different Buddhist
traditions. Instead of disclosing a close alignment of specific schools with
particular attitudes and ways of practice, her interviews show, somewhat
surprisingly, that different concerns and emphases cut clear across the schools
and are more closely connected to personal temperament and social context than
to doctrinal orientation. To take but one example: While academic textbooks
generally portray Theravàda Buddhism as advocating a private quest for
salvation and aloofness from society, Harris's fieldwork showed Theravàdins to
be just as actively engaged in social welfare projects as their Mahàyàna
cohorts, perhaps even more so.
Harris has arranged the book into six chapters. The
first three deal with topics covered in most primers on Buddhism
Þ the
life of the Buddha; the basic teachings of Buddhism; and meditation as
ßthe
way to enlightenment.û What distinguishes the treatment here from that found in
your standard primer is, again, the freshness and conviction of the voices. Her
own text, which deftly and unobtrusively ties together the material selected
from the interviews, indicates that one of her underlying concerns in preparing
the book has been to dispel the prejudices that have distorted the Western
perception of Buddhism. Thus she stresses that the Buddha's focus on suffering
does not make Buddhism a negative and pessimistic philosophy of life. She shows
that Buddhist morality advocates the practice of positive virtues such as love
and compassion as much as an ethic of restraint; she contends that equanimity
means balance and impartiality, not apathy and indifference; she presents
meditation, not as a way of escaping from life's problems, but as a means of
developing the wisdom to deal with them more effectively.
In the last three chapters Harris launches into areas
that have gained heightened relevance from the meeting of Buddhism with the
modern world: Buddhism and social engagement, the place of women in Buddhism,
and Buddhism in relation to contemporary culture. In this last chapter a theme
that is commonly voiced in the interviews is that, to meet the challenge of
modernity, the ways of teaching the Dhamma must change. The old language and
ritualised expressions of Buddhism must give way to fresh embodiments and new
applications suited to present conditions.
Although this book might offer too much variety for a
prospective reader completely new to Buddhism, for one who has already gained a
basic knowledge of the Dhamma and wants to see how Buddhists themselves
understand their own tradition I cannot think of a livelier, more sensitive,
more stimulating work than this one. The book is to be commended, not merely
for its coverage of standard introductory topics, but especially for its
revealing insights on how Buddhists are responding to a truly global world
culture very different from the one that has nurtured it throughout history.
Bhikkhu
Bodhi
Review: The Buddha demonstrates that a sentient being
comes into existence and subsists in dependence on nutriment and ceases with
the cessation of nutriment.
Having stressed in various ways the importance of seeing
for oneself how sentient existence depends on nutriment, the Buddha next gives
the monks a crucially valuable piece of advice. He tells them that even this
view of conditionality,
ßso
pure and bright, should not be adhered to, played with, treasured, and
appropriated.û
Rather it should be used like a raft, for crossing the stream of suffering and
reaching the far shore of safety, Nibbàna. Here the Buddha alludes to the
famous simile of the raft he had introduced in the Alagaddupama Sutta (MN 22).
In that sutta he compares a person who learns his teachings without putting
them into practice to a man who crosses a lake by means of a raft, and then, out
of gratitude to the raft, carries it around on his head wherever he goes. Here,
in the Discourse on the Destruction of Craving, the Buddha gives the simile a
slightly different twist by emphasising that the very purpose of the raft is
for crossing the lake, not for holding on to. Thus if one simply grabs hold of
the raft and carries it around without ever using it to cross the lake, one has
failed to understand the purpose of a raft. By the same token, if one merely
gains an intellectual grasp of the Dhamma but does not use this view to cut
away attachment, one has failed to understand its purpose.
In later Buddhist literature,
ßclinging
to viewsû is
almost always interpreted to mean clinging to erroneous views. It is tacitly
assumed that right view is inherently exempt from clinging, that one cannot
adhere to a view whose objective content derives from the Buddha's teaching.
The present sutta, however, does not allow such an exemption. The Buddha's
injunction clearly implies that even a subtle and profound right view like that
of conditionality can be wrongly grasped
Þ grasped as a plaything of thought, as a pillar of
personal pride, as a weapon to be used in argument and debate. In such cases,
it is being misapplied, applied contrary to its intended purpose, which is the
abolition of clinging.
This does not mean that right view is dispensable or
that the ideal attitude for the practitioner to take is that of not
entertaining any views at all. Holding right view is essential because right
view, even as a conceptual formulation, guides one to a correct understanding
of actuality. It protects one from the insidious influence of wrong views,
inspires constructive practice, and indicates what one has to see with insight.
But the finger should not be mistaken for the moon. The role of right view is
instrumental: it is part of the Noble Eightfold Path, the way leading to the
extinction of suffering. Right view indicates what we must see and how we
should see it, but at the end of the road right view must be used to cut away
attachment even to itself. Since clinging lies at the base of suffering,
clinging even to right view must be discarded. It is only with complete freedom
from clinging, including the clinging to views in all their diversity,
that the doorway opens to complete release from suffering.
Following this brief admonition on not clinging to
views, the Buddha returns to the theme of nutriment, this time to specify the
four nutriments on which life depend:
ßThere are, monks, these four nutriments for the
maintenance of beings that have come into being and for the support of those
about to come into being. What are the four? Material food, gross or subtle, is
the first; contact is the second; mental volition the third; and consciousness
the fourth.û In
order for the life-process to begin, even from the moment of conception the
newly arisen being must have access to a ready supply of nutriment, and this
supply must be maintained during the entire course of life. While this is
obvious in the case of material food, the Buddha expands our understanding of
the role of nutrition by pointing out that there are four nutriments on which
sentient existence depends. (For a selection of relevant texts and
commentaries, see Nyanaponika Thera, The Four Nutriments of Life, Wh 105/106.)
A nutriment (àhàra)
is explained by the commentaries to be a strong support for the continuity of
life (ajjhattika-santatiyà visesappaccaya).
As we know, the Buddha teaches that a living organism is an assemblage of five
aggregates: bodily form, feeling, perception, volitional formations, and
consciousness. These five aggregates are sustained by the four nutriments, each
of which makes its own distinctive contribution. Material food is the decisive
support for the physical body, and since the four other mental aggregates
depend on the body, material food also indirectly contributes to their
sustenance too.
Contact (phassa)
is the coming together of consciousness with an object via a sense faculty.
Whenever consciousness encounters an object, the resulting contact inevitably
gives rise to a feeling, a perception, and a volitional response. Of these,
feeling is singled out as the factor specially nourished by contact. What we
seek in our encounters with the world around us is the enjoyment of pleasure
and the avoidance of pain, and both pleasure and pain are feelings rotted in
contact.
Mental volition (manosa¤cetanà)
is said to be the nutriment for rebirth itself. For volition is kamma, and
following death, when all the conditions for rebirth are complete, conception
comes about when a past kamma propels the stream of consciousness towards the
particular destination where rebirth is due to take place. Once rebirth has
occurred, throughout life mental volition continues to operate behind the
scenes, motivating and sustaining all our activities. All actions of body,
speech, and mind are expressions or congelations of volition. These actions in
turn leave behind kammic deposits with the potential to generate still another
rebirth in which volition will operate still again.
The last nutriment is consciousness (vi¤¤àõa), which serves as the special condition for
ßname-and-formû (nàma-råpa), the psychophysical organism.
For the life-process to begin, the stream of consciousness of a deceased being
must
ßdescendû into
the mother's womb, where it turns the ovum into the germ of a living body.
Together with its own arising, consciousness brings along
ßname,û the main collaborators of consciousness
in the process of cognition: contact, feeling, perception, volition, and
attention. None of these can exist or function without consciousness, and
therefore consciousness is spoken of as their nutriment. Throughout the
embryonic period, as the foetus develops, it must be sustained by
consciousness. And after birth, as we grow up and go about our daily
activities, it is again consciousness that enables us to do so. Consciousness
quickens the mass of tissues, organs, and fluids in which it is lodged and
makes them function as a living body. Consciousness also nourishes contact,
feeling, perception, volition, and attention so they can participate in
cognition. If consciousness departs, the body collapses into a heap of dead
matter and all mental activity stops. It is in these respects that the Buddha
speaks of consciousness as a nutriment.
(to be continued)