I vow to taste the truth of the Tutankhamun's words. Alex. Kova. Kerenshi. Sonia. Mary. Judah. Mary. Susanne. Jeanette. Linda. Several people are not in class tonight. A couple people are really tired. And there's a big 49ers game I guess. No. Let's go. I wanted to show you something. I actually tried the Xerox machine.

[01:00]

And this happens every time the Xerox machine breaks down. If I try to do it right before class, it never works. This is a newsletter called Shakyavita, which means Daughters of the Buddha. International Association of Buddhist Women. This is an organization started by a woman. Her Buddhist name was Karma Lekshe Somo. And she was a woman from L.A. I think she rode a motorcycle and she got into Buddhism in the 60s, into Tibetan Buddhism and was ordained. And she had a further ordination, a full ordination in Taiwan. I think she went to Taiwan, which is where they have the full nuns' lineage ordination still unbroken. And you can receive that in Taiwan. Anyway, she has this newsletter. She goes out. She works for Buddhist nuns all over the world. There's an article about Buddhist nuns in Bhutan, in Ladakh.

[02:02]

International news. Reflections from a nunnery rooftop by somebody. Anyway, if anyone would like to subscribe to this, this is Greenbelch's copy. And there's a membership thing. It's $10 for a year membership. And, you know, anything that can support her work. She's trying to establish educational facilities in some of these places where the nuns are not educated as well as the monks and that kind of thing. There's also book reviews. Anyway, so I'll leave this here. If anyone wants to copy down the address and subscribe. Is she on telephone? She's in Hawaii. She's in Hawaii, yeah. Is that copy in the library? Just came to the office and was put in my basket, so we can put this in the library if people would like to look at it. She came here. Well, she comes on a regular basis, but she came, I think, in the spring. Somebody might have heard her speak.

[03:05]

I thought it was December last year. Last December she came. Was she the one who was bitten by a snake? Bitten by a snake, yeah. When she was living in the forest, she got bitten by a snake in her arm. She practically died. Her arm swelled up and deformed. Is deformed, yeah. So I'll leave this here. Let's see. So those of you who were here last week got an assignment. Did you all do your assignments? Yes. Was it interesting? It was. Who wasn't here last week and didn't get an assignment? Tova, Pamela, Mary. What we did was just divvy up the women arhats, and just everyone took a name and looked it up in here, and they have a report on it tonight, right? So I think the people who were absent and maybe those of you who didn't receive a name, if you'd like to,

[04:09]

there were a few that were on. We ran out of people. We still had some names left over, so if you'd like to get a name and then do a little report next week. Are you going to be here next week, do you think? Would you like to do that, Pamela, Mary, and Tova? Are you going to be here next week? Okay. I don't know if we're going to get through them all tonight. We'll see. But Pamela, why don't you take a person named Chita, C-I-T-T-A, and Tova, why don't you take Sumana, S-U-M-A-N-A, and Mary, Vimala, V-I-M-A-L-A. Okay. Anybody else? Anyone? Okay. So they're all in this book, and this should be on reserve, or you can borrow someone's copy. So I thought we could just start whoever would like to go first.

[05:09]

Unless there's anything from last week that anyone needs. I have something from last week. I was so disappointed. I mean, it really sunk in to me about the Buddha not really being strong enough in all his enlightenment and so forth to recognize women equally, or the words that you were saying that he had said. And then I just happened to read my inquiry line, and there was an article in there by Roger Walsh. Did you read it? No. Well, he says, I just wanted to read this one paragraph because it really pertains. He says, What is now very clear is that enlightenment, whatever it is, does not confer true omniscience nor total freedom from culturally and historically determined perspectives and limitations. Let's face it. If the texts are to be believed, then by contemporary standards the Buddha and numerous other masters were sexists.

[06:12]

Thank you, Roger Walsh. Well, you know, this… It's not the Buddha's… I mean, I had this idea that they should know everything. I don't feel that way anymore. I like what he said. You know, in the difficulties, teacher-student difficulties, and I think the communities have learned that, and Spirit Rock in particular has been very thorough in kind of looking at this, I think because there's a lot of therapists actually who are also Buddhist teachers in that sangha. But anyway, they've been talking about… How does Jack Kornfeld put it? I don't want to misquote him. But anyway, the gist of it is that different levels are undeveloped.

[07:19]

You know, different places are undeveloped, even with some kind of enlightenment experience or understanding. There are other blind spots and undeveloped areas. So if you assume, which I think people have in our projections, that the teacher can do no wrong, and so whatever it is that I see or question, it must be me, I must not be understanding, because they're fully enlightened. So there's been that mistake that's happened over the years. I think also, I just wanted to reiterate from last week that a lot of the things that were put into the mouth of the Buddha, we can't say whether those were the actual words. But from what we do know, there are these cultural things that are…

[08:21]

What does he say? Enlightenment does not mean omniscience. Does not mean? Omniscience. Omniscience. Oh, yeah, right. I felt last week that, partially from Miriam's comment, when she said, I wish I never heard this, excuse me for bringing that up, but that was, I think, a very strong… For those of you who weren't here last week, we kind of looked at some of the mixed reviews in the Buddhist literature and misogynist words put into the Buddhist mouth, and it was very painful, and I think for a lot of us. And at a certain point, Miriam said, I wish I'd never heard this before. So I felt afterwards that I didn't balance it enough. It was almost that there wasn't enough time to get some balance, because there is a balance, and you can find wonderful things as well. Well, no matter what you would have said, it's the manifestation of this that's gone down through the ages.

[09:23]

Yes. So it's something I needed to integrate into my understanding. And it's fine. I feel okay. There's also a letter to the editor in this inquiring line by Rafe Martin. I don't know if you know him. I've seen the name in different places. Apparently, he's a translator of the Jalaka Tales. And somebody had gotten on his case, because there are no stories about women in these past lives. Right. So he said first he was very resistant to the idea of even thinking about it, but the more he began to think about it, the more he thought, well, yes, this is absurd. So he says his last sentence is here. I'm getting a copy of Rita Gross' Buddhism After Patriarchy for my summer reading list. Okay.

[10:30]

Well, let's hear from the arhats. I'm glad you didn't balance it. Because I feel like that dilutes. That's what we're busy doing a lot, is balancing. Or I better not say we. I'm busy balancing. So that you can be comfortable. And so I'm glad you didn't have too much time to balance it right away. Well, one thing, just another point that I made last week, and I just want to make again, which is, it was near the end of the class when I was talking about where it says the Dharma is neither male nor female, which sounds neutral. Sounds like, gee, great, I can live with that. But if you look closely at it, it's actually saying, women, you're okay, you can make it too. It has that side to it. So the thing about androcentrism,

[11:33]

it's not enough to have neutral language. It's not enough to drop all the he's or and say he or she, or to say some neutral thing. It takes the kind of lifeblood out of it in some ways. I think we do respond when it says, just as a mother at the risk of her life watches over and protects her only child in the Metta Sutta, we could say parent there, or father, that would be also fine, but it's very refreshing to have the mother use, that image has a lot of emotional juice to it, to say, just as a mother at the risk of her life. So to take out all the, well, let's all make it all gender neutral, if we were to try and do that, I think it loses a certain kind of lifeblood, both taking away the male or the female.

[12:39]

But because there's such a, it's not balanced, then it's helpful to use the feminine more, to put it in more, because you hear it. It does, it actually makes more of a balance to use the feminine than to use the neutral. Do you know what I'm saying? The neutral is not a balance. It's still tipped. But when you start to use the feminine form more, it begins to put it in balance. So what Sonia was saying, and someone else mentioned to me too, and also in Christian liturgy, I think, and Judaism also, this attempt to kind of take out all the gender things, it, I feel, begins to water it down in a certain way. Actually, we, I think humans are inspired and moved, you know,

[13:46]

when we use these male and female images. So to take those all away, I don't feel it's to our benefit totally. Maybe they should just put in more female. More female, and in some instances I think it's helpful. We've done that in some of our sutras, like instead of he for the bodhisattva, we say the bodhisattvas, you know, so it's either or. But I'm afraid, I'd like to do our, this conversation can go on, we can maybe talk about it next week, but I would like to hear our biographies and all. But I wanted to make that point again. So who would like to kick it off? I'll go first. Go ahead. I did mine on Muta,

[14:52]

which I really liked. She, I kind of felt inspired by her and her strength. And she did two really beautiful poems, which I was kind of moved by. She, is there any kind of time frame? It's kind of hard to kick it off when I don't know. Yeah, I think for all of us, just to keep in mind that, what time is it, we've got about an hour or so. And I think for each one to be able to succinctly say a little bit about the person and then to read, if there's more than one poem, maybe to choose one of the poems How's that sound? And also if there's time, maybe afterwards to say, I would like to hear personally, like you're saying you were moved by her strength, to say something about how it affected your study.

[15:56]

And we'll see if we can, let's see, what would it be? Three or four minutes apiece do you think would do it? Maybe kind of go like this or something to tell me. Yeah, would you like me to give you a time to time it? Or just give you an idea. Okay, if I feel you're going on too long, I'll say thank you. I wasn't prepared to pick one poem, so I have to choose quickly. Well, if they're short, you can do two, you know. They are quite short. Go on, Mary. Not really. Okay. Basically, Muta means free woman. And free in their terms, they meant free, meaning enlightened. Basically, she was the daughter of a poor Brahmin family,

[16:59]

and you know the caste system. Because they did come from poverty, she needed to marry someone in the caste, their caste, which I guess was one of the lower ones. So anyway, the parents set her up with this hunchbacked Brahmin, which, arranged by her parents, who she married and was extremely unhappy with, not because of his physical condition, because of other reasons. Anyway, this dissatisfaction group, and it just got to the point where she knew that she couldn't go on in the marriage, and she voiced this to her husband, because I guess the women needed permission from their husbands back then to be able to end things.

[18:00]

So anyway, he did grant her the permission to be allowed to be ordained as a Buddhist nun. So that's when she really sort of got a new lease on life, and that's when things really started to begin for Muta. And then she eventually became an arahant. I guess that's another plan of hers. I still don't understand the term. Arhat. It's someone who's not good. You know at the end of the Metta Sutra it says, we'll never return. It's someone who has, in this system, has been fully enlightened and will not come back, will not take another rebirth. It's different than the bodhisattva who comes back all the time to keep helping.

[19:01]

I see. So anyway, in the poem that she does create, this is the one I really liked. Free, I am free. I am free by means of the three crooked things. Water, pestle, and my crooked husband. I am free from birth and death and all that dragged me back. So that's the first poem, which I really found inspirational. Why don't we leave it at that, and if we have time we can maybe read another one. Thank you. What does that mean, mortar and pestle? Mortar and pestle is, you know, grinding.

[20:03]

So it's just her kitchen work and drudgery. Oh, her kitchen work. Yeah. Oh, mortar and pestle, yeah. I don't know what it is in different languages. Mortar is the bowl and pestle is the... This bodhisattva's name was Kithiri. And she was born to a wealthy family. And when she was grown, was, I guess, sent. But anyway, she was given to a king. It was King Kosala. Actually, I think what I'll say before that is what was unique about her in this Therigata is that she had attained arhatship as a lay woman and although it's not mentioned anywhere,

[21:09]

it's assumed that later she became part of the ordained sangha. But that's not talked about. So she went to this king and bore him a child. The child's name was Jaiva. I think that's how you say it, which means alive. And shortly after this baby's birth, it died. And so she went into deep mourning and she would always go back to the cremation site in mourning. And one time when she went to the site, Bhutava was teaching there and she listened for a moment and then went off to the river to mourn again. And he came over and inquired why she was weeping. And she said her baby had died. And he said, which one do you cry for? And he pointed to all of the burial markers or cremation sites

[22:12]

and said, all of these are Jaiva, all these babies have died. And who do you mourn for? And I guess with that, it's not so clear, but maybe that was an awakening for her. He said, which do you grieve for? And so there are two stanzas. One that the Buddha said is, Mother, you cry out, O Jaiva, in the woods, come to yourself, Aviri. Eighty-four thousand daughters, all with the name Jaiva, have burned at the funeral fire. For which one do you grieve? And her response was, I had an arrow hidden in my heart and he took it out, that grief for my daughter. The arrow is out, the heart is healed of hunger, I take refuge in Buddha's sage, the Dharma and Sangha. I can go next. Okay.

[23:13]

I'm talking about the Sia, which means lioness. I'd like to read the poem first because it really says a lot about the person and the wife. Obsessed by sensuality, I never got to the origin, but was agitated, my mind beyond control. I dreamed of a great happiness. I was passionate, but had no peace. Pale and thin, I wandered seven years on happy day and night. Then I took a rope into the forest and thought I'd rather hang than go back to that narrow line. I tied a strong noose to the branch of a tree and put it around my neck. Just then my heart was set free. So Sia was the niece of a great general

[24:16]

whom had converted to Buddhism once he heard Gautama preach. She lived in Vrsali and also, hearing Gautama preach, one day decided to enter the nun's order. She stood there for seven years. She stood there for seven years and sincerely followed the Buddhist path, but without finding liberation. I think it says pretty clearly what her problem is in the poem, actually. She must have gone through a lot of suffering during these seven years. Reaching a point of despair where she could not do anything else but try to commit suicide, and it seems to be pretty obvious that by doing this she had, by trying to commit suicide, she had a deep religious experience.

[25:20]

Which set her free, actually. And when she went back to her community afterwards, she lived a completely different life. She was liberated. I love her story, actually. It's great. The determination to have that all. Sounds very good. Also the name, Linus. Thank you. Mita was a nun, one of a group of these women called the Five Hundred Women. I found this group to be very interesting because it comprised a vast, very disseparate groups of people. It comprised women who were widows due to this fighting over water rights, and the fighting was between these two ethnic groups.

[26:27]

One was Aryan, one was kind of a more aboriginal nature, and many men were killed. And the widows then joined to follow Mahapajapati. And then also in this Five Hundred, women who were part of the Buddha's harem. And the text describes, specifies that the Buddha, at least 11 years ago, left these women. So there was this kind of wandering ex-harem women, and then this group of women from husbands who were just fighting with each other, all joining together on this single path. And the poem, it talks about how she and others would follow these kind of ancient Vedic rites or traditions where they would fast on certain days corresponding to the moon cycles. And there's something in here in which she referred to a special day,

[27:30]

which I wasn't sure, but I was wondering if together with the moon cycles, she was referring to something about menstruation. But the poem describes two stanzas. One is her efforts and journeys from layhood and what that was about, and then the second stanza is about her experience as a nun. And here it goes. To be reborn among the gods, I fasted and fasted every two weeks, day 8, 14, and 15, and a special day. Now with a shaved head and Buddhist robes, I eat one meal a day. I don't long to be a god. There's no fear in my heart. Thank you. My woman is Tisa, and she's also from the group of 500 women,

[28:30]

and she's also from Gotama's harem. There's seven of the 500 women from the harem. And just a little bit about, there's very little about these women's biographies, but it does describe the harem a little bit. It consisted of the wives, concubines, and female relatives and servants. And they basically, it didn't really matter what their names or what their title was, but they're all basically slaves. And it says here, there's a quote of what their duties were. To hold the royal umbrella, golden pitcher, and fan, attend the lord seated in his royal litter, throne, or chariot. He could order any of them to surrender herself to anyone to whom he wished to grant a favor and refusal without just cause entailed a fine. So it gives you, a lot of translators would say things like lady of the court,

[29:39]

or other titles like that, which didn't describe them at all, and basically they were prostitutes for the men there. And so that gives you a picture of what their lives were like. And Tisa's poem is just very small, and I think it really reflects that lifestyle. So, here it goes. Tisa, practice the practice. Don't let attachments overwhelm you. Free from ties, live in the world without obsessions. I think this story of Tisa touched me just because I feel the most anger from hearing about women that live in these types of situations. It's just the thing that angers me the most. And just to know that there were some women who actually, I mean they all, I'm sure they all experienced it in their own way,

[30:42]

but there were some women that could practice within that. And that was very touching to me. I'm Utama. And while Utama came from a banker's family, I find it interesting that these women all seem to come from an upper class, the women who became nuns. She was born in a town called Sabati, which I looked on the map and it's like northeast India. She was very troubled. There wasn't very much written about it in the book. I didn't have the book, so we just looked at it afterwards. But she was very troubled until she met up with Pattacara, who taught her the Dharma. And I guess she really worked in her troubled way to integrate this.

[31:50]

I related to her very much, but I guess the Buddha had said at one time that if anybody practices seven years or seven months or seven days intensely, that they will have this great understanding. So she did. She sat intensely for seven days, full of joy, it said. And then on the eighth day, her troubles, as she unwound her legs, her troubles in the dark was gone. So I admire her for committing her commitment to the Dharma. And I don't have her verse. I thought it would be interesting, too, that all of us would make up our own little verse. Not necessary for this class, but just something to make up our own little story. So we have a seven-day Sashin coming up.

[32:54]

I think, Miriam, there were a number of women from sort of the upper class, but there were also women from all classes and prostitutes and not necessarily harem prostitutes, but others who heard that. So there is a wide variety. I was really poor. You're as well, Miriam. Yes. Well, I'll go next since Patakara, you're my disciple, so... Patakara was very important, it turns out, and I didn't have a lot of time. I wish I had had more time. And she's very interesting because unlike a lot of these women, she sounds like she had a mind of her own and was willing to take some chances. So she also comes from a bankrupt family, but her parents had picked out her husband and she fell in love with a servant of the household and ran off with him.

[33:59]

And I thought that was really quite amazing. That must have been amazing in that time. And then she proceeded to have the most tragic kind of life. She became pregnant, and she wanted to return to her home to have this baby, and her husband, this husband that she had picked, didn't want to do that. And they ended up going towards her home, and before they could get there, her husband was trying to build a hut where she could have this baby, and he went out into the woods to try to gather wood and was bitten by a snake and died. And she had this child, the second child, the first one she had already, the second one she had all by herself, and at that point she discovered her husband's body

[35:02]

and proceeded to take the older child and this newborn to return back to her home. And a storm came up. She was trying to cross a river, and she could only take one child at a time, so she took the baby across the river and put the baby on one shore, and while she was going back to get the older child, a hawk came by and flew off with the newborn baby, and she screamed. The older child thought she was calling for him to come after her, and he came to the bank of the river and fell in and died. So at this point she had both of the children dead and her husband dead, and proceeded to go to her home and discovered that her family had been killed. She then became totally mad and wandered without clothing

[36:03]

and was just completely out of her mind for quite a period of time when she heard the Buddha preaching and became ordained by him and had her enlightenment experience afterwards and became a very important figure and developed a whole following of Buddha and disciples. I don't have the book, and there was a statement in it. Yes, I want to find that. When she first comes upon the Buddha and tells him things about her life, and these awful things that have happened, and he says something like, I can't help you, I'm not going to try to help you. Do you have the text?

[37:05]

No, it's about 36. It's 32-33. Yes, so it's in this story, and the point at which she finds him, and he says something to her. Would you like to read it, John? She... This is a very important thing, I feel, that he said to her. She was mad, walking around in circles, and she entered the Jetta Grove where the Buddha was preaching, and those who had gathered wanted to keep her away. Can you imagine a kind of crazy person coming in to lecture on Sunday and, you know, get her out of here? But Gotama followed her and put himself in her path. As she encountered him, he said, Sister, recover your presence of mind. And she recovered her presence of mind. That statement just speaking to her. And I know someone who actually used a variation of this

[38:10]

with someone who had really kind of gone, not exactly off the deep end, but was really kind of on the edge, and they said, Sister, recover... I don't know if they said Sister, but like her name, recover your senses, and it like woke her up somehow. And then she saw that she was naked. You know, she really came to... And a man threw her his robe, his outer robe, which she wrapped around, and then she said, Help me to the Buddha. And then what does he say? He says, Patakara, don't think you have come to someone who can help you. In your many lives you have shed more tears for the dead than there is water in the four oceans. That's what I felt myself. It's an incredible thing. So where does that leave her? I mean, if he says, I can't help you. Well, it says this made her grief less heavy. And he went on to say that when she herself went to another world,

[39:14]

no kin could help her, that even in this world no kin can help. And he spoke of the path, and when he had finished, she asked if she could be ordained. So it leaves her... Together they went to the community of nuns, and she was accepted there. So it left her pointing towards a life of practice. Do you want to read her poem? Do you have a poem? When they plow their fields and sow seeds in the ground, when they care for their wives and children, young brahmins find riches. But I've done everything right and followed the rule of my teacher. I'm not lazy or proud. Why haven't I found peace? Bathing my feet, I watched the backwater spill down the slope.

[40:15]

I concentrated my mind the way you train a good horse. Then I took a lamp and went into my cell, checked the bed and sat down on it. I took a needle and pushed the wick down. When the lamp went out, my mind was freed. I thought, I took a lamp, reminded me of what you said, when he says, I don't think I'm going to help you. And Miriam said... Somebody said, well, what goes back to Miriam? He said, be a lamp unto yourself, which is what Buddha said when he was dying. This is one of the poems that talks about the exact moment of her enlightenment. And it's the specifics, the needle. She pushes the wick down with her needle, and the light goes out. And also about her feet. Bathing my feet, I watched the bathwater spill down the slope.

[41:19]

This poem in particular has very detailed images. Thank you. Mine is about a Kapalani who is said to have possessed the three knowledges, one of which is knowledge of past lives. And apparently she knew all of her past lives. And many of them have been spent with a particular man, Kasapa, whose name we chant every morning, Mata Kaksha. And during her life, during the Buddha's time, she was with him once again, they were together again. And she was born of a wealthy family,

[42:20]

and early in her life had an experience which led to her later renouncing the world. She was looking at sesame seeds that were drying, and there were worms squirming inside them, and there were crows who were coming down and eating the worms. And she was disturbed by the worms being eaten. And someone in her family said, it's your sin that is causing their death. And she was disturbed by that, and said that later in life she would, that she felt that she would renounce the world. And because of this, she figured that she would never get married. And Kasapa also had a similar experience, and also felt that he wouldn't get married. And his parents were sort of pushing for him to find a wife,

[43:24]

and he conceded that he would sculpt a statue and give it to his parents, and if they could find a woman who resembled the statue, he would marry her. And so the search was on, and they found Vada, and secretly began to arrange the marriage. And somehow the two of them found out, and started writing letters to one another saying, I'd make a horrible spouse. But the parents somehow, before the letters actually got to one another, got them, and they were married. But privately made an agreement that they wouldn't consummate their marriage, and instead they cut one another's hair off, and decided to renounce the world together. And out of all, since they were both wealthy, they had all these clothes, and they found some saffron-colored clothes, put them on, gave freedom to their slaves,

[44:29]

and went into the homeless life. And as they left, Kasapa was leading the way, and she was following behind, which was, walking behind him, which, when a couple is married, the wife would always walk behind. And it sort of, they weren't sure, if they were both going into the homeless life, that all were equal in the Dharma, or if they should be walking side-by-side, and they weren't sure if they were married. But there was sort of this conflict, and they came to a fork in the road, and in order to sort of settle it, Kasapa went one way, and Bhada went the other. And soon after, Kasapa met the Buddha, and was ordained. And Bhada spent about, it says, at least five years, living in the Jeta Grove at Savatthi,

[45:31]

close to the Buddha, waiting for him to establish, hoping, I guess, that he would establish a nun's order, like the giants had done. And when Maha Bhajapati established the nun's order, she was ordained, and attained great peace. The poem is, Kasapa, the Buddha's son and heir, deep meditator, knows that he has lived before, sees heaven and hell, and won't be born again. He is a sage who has attained the highest knowledge. In just the same way, Bhada Kapalbani, with the same three knowledges, has left death behind, and bears her last body. We saw the misery in the world, the two of us, and turned away from home. Now we have finished with the mind's obsessions, and are both grown gentle, clenched and clean.

[46:32]

Lifetime after lifetime, they were sort of together, and then they were both cutting off each other's hair. And so, they both attained enlightenment. It's a great movie. It's kind of like another Romeo and Juliet, but it's much more positive. Thank you. Who next? Uh... Bhadesi doesn't have much written about her. In fact, they say that's her personal name, Bhadesi, but her other name is lost. She was also one of the 500, and she was born in the same village as Kashapati and was Kashapati's nurse. So she renounced the world at the same time that Kashapati did. And it doesn't really say much about her,

[47:44]

but the poem sort of says all about her. It was 25 years since I left home, and I haven't had a moment's peace. Uneasy at heart, steeped in longing for pleasure, I held out my arms and cried out as I entered the monastery. I went up to a nun I thought I could trust. She taught me the dharma, the elements of body and mind, the nature of perception, and earth, water, fire, and wind. I heard her words and sat down beside her. Now I have entered the six realms of sacred knowledge. I know I have lived before. The eye of heaven is pure, and I know the minds of others. I have great magic power and have annihilated all the obsessions in the mind. The Buddha's teaching has been gained. My person was Sumana,

[49:04]

there are two of them, I guess, the first one. And she was also one of the seven param members who were ordained. She was a Shakya woman, so the same tribe, I guess, was Buddha's father. Anyway, I'll just read, it doesn't say anything specifically about her, and I think that other people have kind of described the 500 women and their different sort of origins, where they came from, so I'll just read the poem. And this is, the poem was something that the Buddha said to her as she became ordained. Seeing the elements as pain, don't come back to be born. When you throw away your longing to be, you will live in peace. Issa Dasi was another of the wives.

[50:16]

There's a little biography given, except that her poem is essentially biographical. She's included as a good wife, someone who tried to live up to the ideal. The author credits Buddha with giving the qualities of a good wife. Five qualities. First, she should get up before her husband and go to bed after him. Two, she should honor and respect the person whom her husband honors and respects. Three, she should know in detail about servants in the house, messengers, and menials. She should know the workers appointed to them, know their wages, and look after them when they are sick. Four, she should help her husband in home industries. And five, she should keep watch on the money, silver or gold, which her husband brings home.

[51:19]

The Buddha is also credited with telling Ananda, she is graceful in figure, beautiful in appearance, charming, most fun in complexion, neither very stout nor very slim, neither dark... It's sort of hard to continue. Thank you. So, anyway, here's a woman who tried to live up to this in the story. In this splendid city of Ujjaini, my father was a good merchant. I was his only daughter, charming and beloved. Then a rich merchant from Cicada sent a man of a noble family to ask for me. My father gave me to that merchant as a daughter-in-law. Morning and evening, I bowed to the feet of my father-in-law and mother-in-law. If I saw my beloved, his sisters, his brothers,

[52:23]

or even his retinue, I trembled and gave up my seat. I tried to please them with every kind of food and drink and gave to all the proper portions. I rose early and went to my lord's room, having already washed my hands and feet, and on the threshold I came to him with cupped hands, bringing comb, mirror, soap, and ornaments as though I were a servant. I dressed him and groomed him myself. I boiled the rice, I washed the pots, and looked after him as a mother would her only son. And though I was devoted to him, a humble and affectionate servant who was virtuous and got up early, my husband felt nothing for me. He told his mother and father, I'm leaving. I can't live in the same house with Isidasi. Does the poem go, does it stop there?

[53:42]

That's what I was going to say. That's what I was going to say, and then I got enlightened. No, it doesn't. Thank you. Did any of these poems get lost? Like, could there have been more to that poem? There may very well have been more to that. Her husband tore up the rest of it. He found her journal. I don't know. Paula Vaughn was another banker's daughter. She shared the leadership of the first nun sangha with Kima. She was considered the woman most gifted in magical powers and could actually, said that she was able to withdraw a form of the mother

[54:42]

was one of her magical powers. Apparently she was very beautiful. She had all these suitors, all these men all over the land wanting to marry her. And her father just didn't want to deal with it because I guess he was the one who would have had to pick somebody so he suggested that she go be a renunciant. And she was really happy about it, secretly, I guess, because she kind of wanted to do that anyway. So she went out and lived in the woods. And one of the men that really wanted her was her cousin whose name was Ananda. It was a different Ananda. And he went out to the hut and raped her. And then he was, I guess, burned by fire. But one of the big results about this is that from then on, the Buddhist nuns were forbidden to live by themselves out in huts in the woods or even go out by themselves.

[55:44]

So this was really a significant thing. And so after that, Upaluwana lived with a community of nuns. And it says that she acquired supernatural powers. And she was permitted to ordain other women, which I guess up until then only the Buddha had done. I forgot about part of the poem. Oh, we can find it. Let's see. This is Upaluwana, right? Yeah. So she's got a long poem.

[56:48]

She has this dialogue with Mara. But it's interesting. Do you have the book? 71? 78, 71? Maybe you can read... I think there's separate little poems you can maybe choose. There's one, two, three. And then number four is this conversation with Mara. So why don't you just choose. Or maybe these are all verses of the same poem, but anyway. Then pleasure was danger and renunciation was solid ground.

[58:13]

So at Rahagaha, I left home to be homeless. Why don't you go on? You want to read the second verse there? Now I have entered the six realms of sacred knowledge. I know that I have lived before. The eye of heaven has grown clear. My hearing is pure and I know the minds of others. I have great magic powers and have annihilated all the obsessions of the mind. The Buddha's teaching has been done. Thank you. That was very interesting. The verse tells a completely different story from the story she told before about the father who couldn't choose a husband for her and said, why don't you be a renunciate? It sounds like that father couldn't choose a husband for her. He was actually losing her and that he didn't want a husband for her because he wanted her to be single.

[59:16]

Well, I'm not sure if that's something she found out in a past life. Right. Well, it says in here, too, in the poem about his first poem, it's unclear whether she is recounting her own story or telling a folk story. It says, in either case, it's rather bizarre. Reminiscent of the Greek tragedy Oedipus Rex. So you don't really know. I mean, maybe she was a source. It's a different story than the one she told before. Wasn't the last verse identical to the first one? It's the same, identical to Oedipus. Yeah. It's just some standard format. They have some standard, yes. And they were not as involved with individual originality as much as these verses that expressed what happened to them. And they were some stock verses you'll find get repeated in different poems.

[60:18]

These were all memorized, too, so it's a mnemonic device as well to have certain stop phrases that are used over and over. That's why when you get to certain ones that have the little details that aren't quite as, you feel like they're more original, like you get a sense of behind the stop phrases. These stories are very touching. Yeah. How are we doing here? Okay. Well, on that note, I have Dantika, and she was one of the earliest followers, and she joined the community of nuns under Pajapati. And she went into the forest, and they think that this predates that rule because women were getting raped, and she wasn't raped.

[61:21]

She lived in the forest. And, let's see. I'm just going to read it. Tonight when you said, okay, let's do all the things, I hadn't prepared anything. And I felt just like I did in high school, where I was hoping it wouldn't get around to me. Because we were using plastic. Yeah, right. Everybody else was borrowing my book all day and all night. But what's really strange is that I was reading this book up at home, and I had forgotten the one I was supposed to do, but I had picked it out anyway, and I really liked it. It goes, As I left my daytime resting place on Vulture Peak,

[62:24]

I saw an elephant come up on the riverbank after its bath. A man took a hook and said to the elephant, Give me your foot. The elephant stretched out its foot. The man mounted. Seeing what was wild before gone tame under human hands, I went into the forest and concentrated my mind. How many of you felt that the person you read in her poem was really just for you? Yeah. For both, I should go next, because it isn't like mine first. Maybe. It's funny because mine is cooler, and she seems to be like this kind of very strict time of women, like just step after step, and no troubles, no interesting story. Like just living and then being a little tired of life,

[63:29]

and then getting reordained, and then getting a nun, and then getting a art, and that's it. And then I read the other stories, and I thought, wow, they are all so interesting. But somehow then, when I read it again, I had this feeling of this kind of strictness in Sam, always scared me a lot. Like this, that you just like put yourself completely into it, and she seems like to be someone who really puts herself into it, like without some necessary outside suffering. So I kind of started to appreciate that. So I read that poem. Thank you. Like you see, somehow it's probably more difficult to do something like that

[64:29]

if you don't have such a horrible life, just out of, because the basis is missing, but like I started to find this in it. When I lived in a house, I heard a monk's words, and saw in those words nirvana, the unchanging state. I am the one who left son and daughter, money and grain, cut off my hair and set out into homelessness. Under training on the straight way, desire and hatred fell away, along with the obsessions of the mind that combined with them. After my ordination, I remembered I had been born before. The eye of heaven became clear. The elements of body and mind I saw as other,

[65:32]

born from a cause subject to decay. I have given up the obsessions of the mind. I am quenched and cool. Thank you. So she's blown away. I guess I could do mine. Mine was on Kapha. I was assigned Kapha, but Kapha isn't a really inspirational story. There's nothing in the poem itself about her becoming an arhat. It mostly has to do with she was the daughter of a trapper. The trapper had an aesthetic who was sort of... He met the Buddha, but never really became a follower of the Buddha,

[66:33]

and was of some other type of spiritual following. Anyway, this trapper went off and had his daughter take care of the aesthetic. He fell in love with her and ended up marrying her and learning to become a hunter. Through most of the poem, they get married and begin to fight. It really seems to have a lot to do with this aesthetic. Then he leaves, and you kind of think of him when he's leaving almost as like, wow, he's kind of projecting everything on Kapha in a way. This poem is a dialogue between Kapha and this former aesthetic. Aesthetic. Aesthetic. Excuse me. About his wanting to leave her after they've had a child and go back and find the Buddha.

[67:45]

He does that, and she tries to get him to stay with the powers of the woman. It's called in it, like, seduction and all this. And so he does, but finally she leaves the child with the trapper, her father, and then goes off to become an aesthetic herself and a follower of the Buddha. But it's not even in the poem. But that's kind of what this one was about. I don't know. It's not really that inspiring exactly. I could read part of it if you want me to. Why don't you read part of it? Okay. Let's see.

[68:46]

Let's see. So it's basically this kind of banter between the two, right? Where she's trying to hold him and he wants to go. It goes, it's pretty long. I'm trying to see if I could find maybe a good part to read about it. It's kind of funny in a way. Let's see. Okay, so anyway. Wow, it's really almost kind of bad. I'm trying to pick out the best of the worst. The best of the worst. You don't have to read it, David, if you don't want to. Or maybe just read one stanza to just kind of give us a flavor of how bad it is. Okay, so, all right. I'll read something to give you a flavor. So this is Kappa trying to make her husband stay. Okay. Oh Kala, I am like a Takara tree blossoming on a mountaintop.

[70:02]

Like a bitter apple vine and flower. Like a trumpet flower in the interior of an island. My body has been rubbed with golden sandalwood paste. I've put on Muslim from Varanasi. I am beautiful. Why do you leave me? You are like a bird hunter with that lovely body of yours. That you won't snare me. But Kala, this child fruit of mine is yours. How can you leave me when I have your child? The wives leave their sons, their relatives, and their wealth. The great set out like an elephant that has broken its tether. Then I'll knock him into the dirt right here. This son of yours, with a stick, with a knife. And out of grief you won't go. Even if you give our son to the jackals and the dogs, I won't turn back for a woman. To be continued next week. You have to make a good soap opera.

[71:06]

But it has nothing in here about Kappa. Well, wait. Okay, then. Okay, so she finally says... She asks him, Okay, so where will you go? And all this. He remembers the good old days about being an ascetic and everything. Okay, so she lets him go. Then she says, So give him my greetings, the God of the world, and make an offering for me. That's what Kappa says. She gives up and says, Okay, go ahead and give him the screen. It's all right what you say, Kappa. I'll give him your greeting, the God of the world, and make an offering for you. Okay, so... She does that. Oh, he does that. And then... So he goes to the Nara river and saw the enlightened one teaching no death, the cause of pain, the end of pain,

[72:09]

and the great eightfold way that stills all pain. Kala bowed to his feet, walked past him on the right, made the offering for Kappa, then set out into homelessness. The three knowledges have been realized, the Buddha's teaching has been done, and that's the end of the poem. But the author, anyway, wrote in here in the commentary that Kappa later left the child with her father and then went on and became a renunciate herself and became an Arahant. So, Arahant. But, anyway, that's the poem. Thank you. We have about... How many people haven't done this yet? One? Two? Is that all? Three? Three. Thank you. I want to... Let's try and do those three

[73:09]

and then we'll chant the names of the Arahants with Dayo Sho. We have these to pass out like little chant cards. What are the three knowledges? One is the past lives, and what are the other two? The lives of others? I'm not sure what that refers to. I mean, there are those minds, the past lives... The Buddha Eye of Heaven is coming very often. Buddha Eye of Heaven. The Eye of Heaven. To see it all places, so that what's mine, it was... Yeah, omniscience. Anyway, I could look that up. I'm sorry. Okay. I read about Bhadrakundalakesa and he said even after she was ordained as a nun, she kept her independent in wandering ways, so I felt connected to him. She's from a wealthy family,

[74:10]

and when she was young, she fell in love with a sort of bad guy who turned out to be a robber, but he was actually from a wealthy family. I don't know what had happened to him, but she fell in love with him and he tried to rob her and they were on this cliff and she realized what was happening and I think he was about to kill her and she actually pushed him over this cliff and the cliff deities applauded her, and so she felt she couldn't go back to her family, so she became a Jain nun and she practiced severe asceticism for a while, tore out her hair, and once she had mastered all of these teachings, she left to seek out teachers, wise teachers, and so she wandered for a really long time and she would come into a village and stick an apple branch into the sand to sort of see if anyone would have

[75:12]

these religious debates with her, a challenge sort of, and she always, I don't know, she won and people couldn't challenge her, and then one day she came into Shariputra's village and stuck that apple branch in the sand and so they began to have a conversational debate and she realized his wisdom and she asked him to be her teacher and he realized her own wisdom and it sent her to the Buddha and then the Buddha also realized her intelligence and said, come Buddha, and ordained her right then and she was awakened and this is a unique ordination that she's the only one that this happened with,

[76:13]

that they didn't have to go to the monks and the nuns and I don't know whatever they did, but to see if they could ordain her, the Buddha considered Buddha first among the nuns and the speed with which she gained nirvana, so he just said, come Buddha, and she was ordained. And her verse, it's sort of long but I'll read it, she says, I cut my hair, and wore the dust, and I wandered in my one robe, finding fault where there was none, and finding no fault where there was. Then I came from my rest one day at Vulture Peak, and saw the pure Buddha with his monks. I bent my knee, paid homage, pressed my palms together, we were face to face. Come Buddha, he said, that was my ordination. I wandered throughout Anga and Magadha, Bhaji, Kashi, and Kusala, 55 years with no debt.

[77:15]

I have enjoyed the alms of these kingdoms. A wise lay follower gained a lot of merit. He gave a robe to Bada, who is free from all bonds. Anyone else for tonight? We can do a few, I know that Christina and Chayo both wanted to talk about theirs next week, so shall we finish up? Unless somebody would really like to get it over with tonight? No? Yes? Okay. I'd like to finish mine. Okay, go ahead. I'll finish it next. You want to do it next week? Yeah, I feel a little incomplete because I missed a part that I forgot. Okay, good. So either way. Okay. Okay. So I thought, we don't know all these. We may stumble a little bit on some of these names,

[78:15]

but we'll just give it a try, and then within, in between each one, we'll say Dayo Sho, which means great teacher. So I'm going top to bottom, or next to right? We're going top to bottom on the left-hand column, and then top to bottom on the right-hand column. So starting out with, I wrote these out, not alphabetically, but in terms of what the lineage might have been, Mahapajapati and Gita, and Yasodara, and the first 500 kind of come first. So usually when we chant the names of the ancestors, Buddhists and ancestors,

[79:16]

we put our hands in Gassho. Let's see. I'm not sure I think what I'll say is, usually we, the chanting of the ancestors, there's a dedication, so I'd like to say that we dedicate some merit and energy generated in this class to Mahapajapati Dayo Sho, Gita Dayo Sho, Yasodara Dayo Sho, Gita Dayo Sho, Sumana Dayo Sho, Mutasamo Dayo Sho, Misaka Dayo Sho, Kema Dayo Sho, Upalabana Dayo Sho,

[80:17]

Sundarinanda Dayo Sho, Hadesmi Dayo Sho, Atakaro Dayo Sho, Uttama Dayo Sho, Parabuddha Vasistha Dayo Sho, Mandodhara Dayo Sho, Dantika Dayo Sho, Sakuka Dayo Sho, Nima Dayo Sho, Uttama Dayo Sho, Dhammadhina Dayo Sho, Isagottami Dayo Sho, Vasati Dayo Sho, Uyiri Dayo Sho, Atankara Mantrasasa Dayo Sho, Isadassi Dayo Sho, Panakapilani Dayo Sho, Muta Dayo Sho, Kappa Dayo Sho, Sumangala Smother Dayo Sho, Dhamma Dayo Sho,

[81:19]

Sita Dayo Sho, Sumana Dayo Sho, Vibhava Dayo Sho, Radhasasi Dayo Sho, Padumahati Dayo Sho, Ampapavi Dayo Sho, Anupama Dayo Sho, Abhirubhananda Dayo Sho, Janti Dayo Sho. Now we have dedicated our practice to the great teachers who have transmitted the lamp through, who have transmitted the lamp and have been lost in the four countries. May their lives reveal their compassion. Mindful of this, let us honor their true being.

[82:21]

All Buddhas, ten directions, three times, all beings, bodhisattvas, Mahasattvas, wisdom beyond wisdom, Mahakasyaparamita. Let's end our class there. I think this was dedication that we can end with.

[83:22]

And you're welcome to keep these. applause

[83:26]

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