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The Power of Reflection - Diana Clark
The following talk was given by Diana Clark at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on April 30, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.
The Power of Reflection
Tonight I’d like to start with a story found in the Suttas1, the early Buddhist literature. It takes place on the day the Buddha died.
The Buddha is talking to Ananda, his cousin and attendant. He tells Ananda matter-of-factly, "I’m going to die today." He asks Ananda to prepare a place for him to lie down between two Sal trees. The Buddha lies down on his right side and meditates.
But before he passes away, Ananda protests. "No, no, no! Don't die here in this place!" In Maurice Walshe's translation—which I just love—Ananda says to the Buddha, "May the Blessed One not die in this miserable little town of wattle-and-daub2, right in the jungle in the back of beyond."
Ananda feels the Buddha should die in a significant city where there are wealthy communities and supporters who can provide a proper funeral. He lists several affluent cities and argues that the Buddha’s passing should be treated with the stature it deserves.
The Buddha replies, "No, I’m going to die here." He then tells the story of this place, Kusinārā3. He explains that it used to be called Kusāvatī, and at that time, a righteous king named Mahāsudassana4 ruled there. Kusāvatī was a robust, prosperous city. The Buddha launches into a long story about King Mahāsudassana, and the punchline is that the Buddha himself was that king in a former life.
The Story of King Mahāsudassana
The story goes that King Mahāsudassana saw a sign in the heavens—described like a wheel, perhaps a star or planet. He took it as a sign to travel in that direction. He marched off with his entire army—elephants, horses, and attendants. When he arrived directly underneath the sign, he stopped.
The people in that location came out to him and said, "Welcome, Your Majesty. We are your subjects; please rule us." There was no war, no conquering. They simply invited him in. The King accepted and gave them instructions: "Do not take life. Do not take what is not given. Do not commit sexual misconduct. Do not speak falsehoods. Do not take intoxicants."
Many of you will recognize these as the Five Precepts. He also added a sixth: "Be moderate in eating." The people followed these guidelines, and the community prospered.
Then, the wheel in the sky moved. The King followed it to another direction, and the same thing happened: the people welcomed him, he gave them ethical instructions, and they became a happy community. This continued in all four cardinal directions.
Finally, the King returned to his capital. Feeling happy and generous, he thought, "Suppose I were to construct lotus ponds for the people." So he did. The ponds were lined with tiles of gold, silver, beryl, and crystal. He filled them with blue, yellow, red, and white lotus flowers. Then he thought, "Suppose I were to place attendants on the banks to help those who come here," and he did. He also established charitable posts where people could get food, drink, clothes, transport, or money.
The King was incredibly generous, offering guidelines for ethical behavior while taking care of everyone’s needs. This created immense goodwill. The wealthy members of the kingdom offered him more wealth, but he refused, saying he didn't need it. So instead, they built him a palace.
The King eventually decided to support the spiritual seekers of the time—the mendicants who relied on alms. He then went to his palace to meditate and reflect.
Three Causes of Prosperity
In his reflection, the King asked himself a remarkable question: "Of what action is it the fruit and result that I am now so mighty and powerful?"
He was asking, How did I get here? Why are things turning out so well?
Often, when things go our way, we don't ask this. We think it’s just the natural order of the universe—of course things are supposed to be easy for me. It’s usually when things go wrong that we ask, "How did I get here?" But this King asked it while things were going well.
He concluded that his situation was the result of three actions:
- Generosity (Dāna): He took care of his responsibilities to the townspeople and spiritual seekers. He thought of others' welfare rather than just accruing power. We know the good feeling in the heart that comes from supporting others. Generosity knits relationships together, and we cannot walk this path alone.
- Inner Taming (Dama): This word Dama5 relates to "domesticating" or "taming." It’s a way of coming home to ourselves. Importantly, this doesn't mean turning into someone else. If we are lions, we get to be lions; if we are elephants, we get to be elephants. But we tame the wildness—the irresponsibility or harshness. We tame the tendency to berate ourselves or to constantly seek distraction when we feel out of sorts.
- Self-Mastery (Saṃyama): The Pali word is Saṃyama6. While it can be translated as "restraint" or "self-control," those words can imply clamping down on oneself. I prefer to think of it as understanding and regulating our responses—cultivating our talents and skills to become the best version of ourselves. This requires practice, intention, diligence, and patience.
The Mirror of Reflection
The King’s reflection—generosity, taming, and self-mastery—reminds us that "what goes around comes around." But I also want to highlight the act of reflection itself.
There is another story where the Buddha is talking to his son, Rahula. He is admonishing Rahula, who had told a lie. The Buddha asks, "Rahula, what is the purpose of a mirror?"
Rahula answers, "The purpose of a mirror is to reflect, venerable sir."
The Buddha says: "That is right. Before doing acts of body, speech, or mind, you should reflect. During acts of body, speech, or mind, you should reflect. After acts of body, speech, or mind, you should reflect."
He instructs Rahula to ask: Did this act lead to harming myself? Did it lead to harming others? Was it unskillful? Did it result in suffering?
But he also says: If, while reflecting, you know that this act was wholesome, had pleasant consequences, and did not cause harm, then you should be happy and glad and practice in these wholesome states.
This joy and gladness—Pīti and Pāmojja7—are integral to the practice. We don't always have to be burdened or chastise ourselves. We can notice, "Oh, that was a good thing. Nobody got harmed, and there is a little more peace in the world."
Reflecting after our actions takes honesty and maturity. We often want to see ourselves as "good people," so it’s hard to admit when our actions weren't helpful or had mixed motives. Maybe we did something good, but part of us just wanted attention or to undermine someone else.
It takes maturity to recognize that the mind is like a committee with different motives. We are not black and white. We can learn to say "no" to unhelpful impulses without repressing parts of ourselves. We can admit, "I really dislike my neighbor's barking dog and have ill will toward it." Recognizing that ill will allows us to see how it undermines our own well-being.
Our dignity lies in our ability to recognize our mistakes and resolve to do better. It also lies in recognizing when we have done well.
King Mahāsudassana reflected on his life and realized his prosperity came from generosity, taming, and self-mastery. The Buddha ends that story by noting that the King went on to practice meditation and reached the highest state of awakening possible at that time.
So, reflect after you do things. Have the honesty to recognize what wasn't great, and have the joy and gladness to recognize what was helpful.
I’ll end there and open it up for questions or comments.
Q&A
Question: regarding the three things—generosity, taming, and self-mastery—what is the difference between taming and self-mastery?
Diana: That is a perfectly reasonable question. I would say that taming is more about diminishing the unhelpful patterns—taming the "wildness." Mastery is more about cultivating the helpful things. Do we really need to make a distinction? Maybe not, but in this list, they are distinct.
Participant: I don’t have a question, but I’ve had a really good week. I usually lean toward being depressed, but I’ve been happy this week. I had a few encounters at work where I was helpful, and I feel grateful for that. The odd thing is, when I ask "How did I get here?", I realize I haven't meditated in a week! I also haven't been attending my classes. I thought maybe I was putting too much pressure on myself, and backing off helped.
Diana: Yes, sometimes having a regular meditation practice can become an oppressive "should." There can be a benefit to backing off a little bit and seeing things differently. It sounds like you found a balance. It is hard to fit everything in.
Participant: I appreciated what you mentioned about how if we base our self-esteem on whether we succeed or fail, it creates a fragile sense of self. I also thought it was useful that you said our dignity should come from our ability to reflect on our actions and make better decisions.
Diana: Thank you.
Thank you all for your practice, and I wish you a wonderful rest of the evening.
Footnotes
Suttas: The discourses or scriptures of the early Buddhist canon, preserving the teachings of the Buddha. ↩
Wattle-and-daub: A simple construction method using woven lattice of wooden strips (wattle) daubed with sticky material like wet soil or clay. In the transcript, this was heard as "waddle and do." ↩
Kusinārā: The city where the Buddha passed away (Parinirvana). ↩
Mahāsudassana: The name of the righteous King (a previous birth of the Buddha) described in the Mahāsudassana Sutta. ↩
Dama: (Pali) Self-taming, training, or domesticating the mind; curbing wild or unskillful tendencies. ↩
Saṃyama: (Pali) Restraint or self-mastery; the regulation of one's conduct and senses. ↩
Pīti and Pāmojja: (Pali) Pīti is often translated as rapture or joy; Pāmojja as gladness or satisfaction. These are wholesome mental states that support concentration and wisdom. ↩