The spiritual mountain is a wonderful metaphor for the concept of The SELF, and mountain climbing is a perfect corollary to living the spiritual life. In this section we attempt to bring into focus the critical tools and skills needed for us to collectively ascend the mountain of the Spiritual SELF.
The insight and wisdom found in this section is drawn from three crucial Theosophical sources.
H.P. Blavatsky’s rendition of The Voice of the Silence,
Mr. Judge’s poetic rendition of the Bhagavad-Gita, and
Mabel Collins faithful recording of the instructions of a Master called Light on the Path.
This week, we highlight our section On Speech, with a selection from the Buddha’s teachings, drawn from the Abhaya Raja Kumara Sutta. In this Sutta we hear of a meeting between Gautama Buddha and Prince Abhaya, within which we find the following dialogue:
[Prince Abhaya] said to the Blessed One,
“Venerable sir, would the Tathágata say words that are un-endearing and disagreeable to others?”
“Prince, there is no categorical yes-or-no answer to that.”
“Then right here, venerable sir, the Niganthas are destroyed.”
“But prince, why do you say, ‘then right here, venerable sir, the Niganthas are destroyed’?”
“Just yesterday, venerable sir, I went to Nigantha Nataputta and… he said to me… ‘Come now, prince. Go to the contemplative Gotama and on arrival say this: “Venerable sir, would the Tathágata say words that are un-endearing and disagreeable to others?”… Just as if a two-horned chestnut were stuck in a man’s throat: he would not be able to swallow it down or spit it up. In the same way, when the contemplative Gotama is asked this two-pronged question by you, he won’t be able to swallow it down or spit it up.'”
Now at that time a baby boy was lying face-up on the prince’s lap. So the Blessed One said to the prince, “What do you think, prince: If this young boy, through your own negligence or that of the nurse, were to take a stick or a piece of gravel into its mouth, what would you do?”
“I would take it out, venerable sir. If I couldn’t get it out right away, then holding its head in my left hand and crooking a finger of my right, I would take it out, even if it meant drawing blood. Why is that? Because I have sympathy for the young boy.”
“In the same way, prince:
[1] In the case of words that the Tathágata knows to be un-factual, untrue, unbeneficial (or: not connected with the goal), un-endearing and disagreeable to others, he does not say them.
[2] In the case of words that the Tathágata knows to be factual, true, unbeneficial, un-endearing and disagreeable to others, he does not say them.
[3] In the case of words that the Tathágata knows to be factual, true, beneficial, but un-endearing and disagreeable to others, he has a sense of the proper time for saying them.
[4] In the case of words that the Tathágata knows to be un-factual, untrue, unbeneficial, but endearing and agreeable to others, he does not say them.
[5] In the case of words that the Tathágata knows to be factual, true, unbeneficial, but endearing and agreeable to others, he does not say them.
[6] In the case of words that the Tathágata knows to be factual, true, beneficial, and endearing and agreeable to others, he has a sense of the proper time for saying them. Why is that? Because the Tathágata has sympathy for living beings.”
