In the annals of Chinese Buddhist teachings, a narrative known as the “Wild Fox Koan” imparts profound insights into the principles of karma and its undeniable consequences.
According to legend, during the Tang Dynasty in China, Master Bai Zhang Huai Hai, a venerable monk and the third-generation disciple of the Sixth Patriarch Master Huineng, played a pivotal role in this story. During his sermons, he consistently noticed an unfamiliar old man attentively listening to his teachings on Buddhism. The mysterious visitor would only depart after the session concluded. One day, after another sermon, the old man lingered, prompting the puzzled monk to inquire, “Who is standing there without leaving? Who are you?”
Huaihai, curious, asked, “Do you have something on your mind?” The old man got straight to the point, confessing, “I am not a human; I am a wild fox on this mountain. Five hundred years ago, I was a monk and once gave a Dharma talk here. One day, a junior monk asked me if enlightened beings fall under the law of cause and effect. I replied, ‘They do not fall under cause and effect.’ Unfortunately, I gave the wrong answer and fell into the realm of a fox. Today, I want to ask a question in front of you, venerable teacher. Would you be willing to enlighten me?” Huaihai replied, “Please go ahead.” The old man asked, “Do enlightened beings fall under the law of cause and effect?” Huaihai responded, “They do not ignore cause and effect.” The old man paused for a moment, then prostrated himself, saying, “Teacher, I have attained enlightenment. I have now transcended the realm of the fox. I am beneath the big stone on the back mountain. I hope that you, as a monk, will bury me according to the proper rites.” After saying this, he disappeared without a trace.
Accompanied by monks, Master Huaihai went to the back mountain and found, under a large stone, a dead black fox. Master Huaihai instructed them to light torches and cremate the fox. They then chanted sutras together, performing rites to help the fox monk attain liberation.
The Fox Zen Master, due to a single mispronounced word, uttered a great falsehood, resulting in five hundred lifetimes as a wild fox. The principle of cause and effect is unfailing, as it does not discriminate between the ordinary and the saintly. Advanced practitioners maintain a profound reverence for the law of karma. Hence, there is the notion that bodhisattvas fear the cause, while ordinary beings fear the effect. A bodhisattva contemplates the emptiness and tranquility of all phenomena, harboring no attachment or grasping. Due to their wisdom, they do not give rise to undesirable consequences such as ignorance or darkness.
If one were to claim that a bodhisattva “transcends cause and effect,” it would imply an annihilationist view. It is only by “not obscuring cause and effect” that a bodhisattva, within the profound samadhi of deep prajna paramita, can attain the ultimate wisdom.
“To keep things secret, refrain from doing them unless by oneself.” This is a commonly heard phrase advising people to do good, implying that whatever one does, there will always be someone who knows. Moreover, secrets are bound to be exposed sooner or later. Therefore, it is essential to reflect on one’s actions regularly, ensuring they align with goodness. Never assume that no one is watching, as actions that go against the laws of cause and effect will eventually come to light.
Two other frequently heard sayings are: “Within three feet, there are gods” and “Every step leaves a mark.” These cautionary words remind individuals that every action leaves an imprint, and nothing done will vanish into oblivion over time. In the realm of cause and effect, if one sows seeds of negativity, they must ultimately bear the consequences, adhering to the principle of “unobscured cause and effect.”
During the Three Kingdoms period, the king of Su, Liu Bei, offered sagacious advice to his son, Liu Shan, before his passing, saying, “Do not commit small evils, and do not refrain from doing small acts of goodness.” This counsel underscores the importance of consistently engaging in virtuous deeds, regardless of their scale, while avoiding any participation in wrongdoing. The admonition implies that accumulating small wrongs over time can lead to significant consequences.
Conversely, it’s not uncommon to encounter individuals who, despite their kindness and numerous good deeds, face repeated disasters and misfortunes. Understanding why such outcomes occur can be challenging, leading to a lack of comprehension about the concept of doing good. Some may even develop biases, assuming that avoiding wrongdoing in this life is sufficient and that there’s no need to help others since there’s no apparent reward for good deeds. This perspective represents a clear form of biased and distorted understanding, lacking insight into the law of cause and effect and focusing on one aspect without considering the other.
Applying the concept of the threefold law of cause and effect, we realize that positive causes we sow may not yield immediate results. Karmic consequences from past lives need to be accounted for and repaid. We cannot solely judge our current situation based on what we see in this lifetime. Holding the belief that “I haven’t done anything wrong, so why is life more difficult for me than for others?” is a narrow perspective. Observing others who seemingly haven’t done much good yet are living well, we might not realize that they sowed positive causes in past lives—an aspect our ordinary eyes cannot perceive, akin to the monk descending to a fox in many lifetimes.
If the notion of avoiding wrongdoing but not engaging in virtuous deeds takes root, the future may only bring unbearable misery. Reflect on whether we’ve never taken a life. Insects, ants, cockroaches, spiders—all are living beings, and consciously or unconsciously, we’ve all caused harm to one at some point. Furthermore, injuring a life means we will have to repay in kind in future lives. Without cultivating positive causes in this life, how can we expect to have a good future?
Therefore, it is crucial to firmly believe in the universal truth of “cause and effect.” You reap what you sow—good actions bring good results, and harmful actions bring harm. It’s not a matter of if, but when the time comes!
Once upon a time, the Enlightenment Being was born into a rich high-class family in Kasi, in northern India. He grew to young manhood and completed his education. Then he gave up ordinary desires and left the everyday world. He became a holy man and went to live by himself in the Himalayan forests. He meditated for a long time, developed high mental powers, and was filled with inner happiness.
Having run out of salt, one day he came down to the city of Benares. He spent the night in the royal garden. In the morning he washed himself, tied his tangled hair knot on top of his head, and dressed in a black antelope skin. He folded up the robe made of red bark, which he usually wore. Then he went to the city to collect almsfood.
When he arrived at the palace gate, King Brahmadatta was walking back and forth on his terrace. When he saw the humble looking holy man, he thought. There is such a thing as perfect calm, this man must have found it!” He had his servants bring him into the palace.
The holy man was seated on a luxurious couch and was fed the very best foods. He thanked the king. The king said, “You are welcome to live in my royal garden permanently. I will provide the ‘Four Necessities’ — food, clothing, shelter and medicine. In so doing I may gain merit leading to rebirth in a heaven world.”
The holy man accepted this kind offer. He spent the next sixteen years living in the royal garden of Benares. During that time he taught all in the king’s family, and received the Four Necessities from the king.
One day King Brahmadatta decided he must go to a frontier area and put down a revolt. Before leaving he ordered his queen to care for the needs of the holy man. Her name was Queen Tenderhearted.
She prepared food every day for the holy man. Then one day he was late in arriving for his meal. While waiting, Queen Tenderhearted refreshed herself in a perfumed bath, dressed in fine clothes and jewellery, and lay down on the couch.
Meanwhile the Enlightenment Being had been meditating in a particularly joyful mental state. When he realised what time it was, he used the power of his mental purity to fly through the air to the palace.
When Queen Tenderhearted heard the rustling sound made by his bark robe, she rose up suddenly from her couch. In so doing, her blouse accidentally slipped down for a moment — and the holy man glimpsed her from the window as he entered. He was surprised by the unusual sight of the queen’s great beauty.
Desire, which had been subdued but not erased, rose within him. It was just like a cobra rises, spreading his hood, from the basket in which it is kept. His desire lost its purity. He was wounded, like a crow with a broken wing.
The holy man could not eat his food. He took it back to his temple dwelling in the royal garden, and put it under his bed. His mind was enslaved by the sight of the beauty of Queen Tenderhearted. His heart was burning with desire. He remained on his bed, without eating or drinking, for the next seven days.
Finally the king arrived home again. He circled the city and then went directly to see the holy man in the garden temple. Seeing him lying in bed, he thought he was sick. He cleaned out the temple and sat down next to him. He began massaging his feet, and asked, “Reverend sir, what happened to you? Are you sick?”
The holy man replied, “Oh great king, my sickness is that I am caught in the chains of desire.” “What is it you desire?” asked the king. “Queen Tenderhearted, my lord.” “Your reverence,” said the king, “I will give Tenderhearted to you. Come with me.”
When they arrived at the palace, King Brahmadatta had his queen dressed in her finest clothing and jewellery. Then he secretly told her to help the unfortunate holy man regain his purity. She replied. “I know what to do, my lord, I will save him.” Then the king gave her away and she left the palace with the holy man.
After they passed through the main gate she said, “We must have a house to live in. Go back and ask the king for one.” He returned and asked the king for a house. The king gave them a tiny run-down hut that people used as an outhouse.
The holy man took the queen to their new home, but she refused to go inside. He asked her why. She said, “Because it’s filthy! Go back to the king and get a shovel and basket.” He obeyed and when he returned she ordered him to do all the cleaning. He even had to plaster the walls and floor with fresh cow dung!
Then she commanded him to go to the palace and get her a bed. Then a chair. Then a lamp, bed linen, a cooking pot, a water pot. She ordered him to get all these things one at a time, and he obeyed dutifully. She sent him to get water for her bath and many other things. He set out the water for her bath and then made up the bed. Finally they sat down next to each other on the bed. Suddenly she grabbed him by the whiskers, shook him back and forth, pulled him towards her and said, “Don’t you remember that you are a holy man and a priest?”
Only then was he shocked out of his mad infatuation and made to realise who he was. Having regained his self-awareness, he thought, “Oh what a pitiful state I have fallen into. I have been blinded by my desire into becoming a slave. Beginning with only the sight of a woman, this mad craving could lead me into a hell world. My body was burning, as if I’d been shot in the heart with an arrow of desire. But there was no bleeding wound! Not seeing her body as it really was, my own foolishness caused all my suffering!”
Then he spoke out loudly, “On this very day I will return the wise Queen Tenderhearted to the noble King Brahmadatta. Then I will fly back to my forest home!”
After taking her back, he said to the king, “I don’t want your queen anymore. Before I had her, she was my one desire. After I got her, one desire led to another endlessly, leading only to hell.”
The wise Queen Tenderhearted, by using her intelligence and knowledge of life, had given a great gift to the holy man. Rather than taking advantage of his weakness, she had restored his purity.
In perfect calm the Enlightenment Being rose into the air, preached to the king, and then magically flew to the Himalayan forests. He never again returned to the ordinary world. After meditating for years in peace and joy, he died and was reborn in a high heaven world.
The Angulimala Sutta, a captivating narrative from Buddhist scriptures, recounts the remarkable transformation of a blood-thirsty murderer into a compassionate monk under the profound influence of the Buddha. Angulimala, notorious for his brutal killings and a garland of severed fingers, terrorized the realm of King Pasenadi. The tale unfolds during a time when the Buddha, with unwavering compassion, confronted the darkness that shrouded Angulimala’s soul.
Angulimala’s notoriety as a ruthless killer, leaving villages and towns in a state of fear, paints a grim picture of his violent nature. His garland of fingers serves as a gruesome testament to the lives he had taken, making him a symbol of terror and malevolence.
Undeterred by Angulimala’s fearsome reputation, the Buddha ventured into the region where the murderer roamed freely. Despite warnings from locals about the dangers posed by Angulimala, the Buddha calmly continued his journey, determined to confront the source of darkness.
As the Buddha walked towards Angulimala’s lair, the air thick with tension, he encountered the menacing killer. Rather than responding with fear, the Buddha skillfully engaged Angulimala in a dialogue that would alter the course of his life. The Buddha’s words, laden with wisdom and compassion, began to unravel the tightly woven fabric of Angulimala’s violent identity.
In a pivotal moment, as Angulimala sought to chase down the Buddha with murderous intent, the Buddha employed a feat of psychic power. Despite running at full speed, Angulimala found himself unable to catch up with the Buddha walking at a normal pace. This display of supernatural ability left Angulimala astonished and created a space for the transformative dialogue that followed.
Angulimala urgently called out, “Stop, contemplative! Stop!” The Buddha calmly replied, “I have stopped, Angulimala. You stop.”
Perplexed, Angulimala asked, “While walking, contemplative, you say, ‘I have stopped.’ But when I have stopped, you say I haven’t. I ask you the meaning of this: How have you stopped? How haven’t I?”
The Buddha responded, “I have stopped, Angulimala, once and for all, having cast off violence toward all living beings. You, though, are unrestrained toward beings. That’s how I’ve stopped and you haven’t.”
Baffled by the Buddha’s profound words, Angulimala sought clarity on the apparent contradiction. The Buddha’s response not only clarified the cessation of violence within his own heart but also illuminated the unrestrained nature of Angulimala’s actions. This insightful exchange marked the beginning of a transformative journey within Angulimala, planting the seeds of change in his consciousness.
With a heart now inclined towards virtue, Angulimala, in an impromptu moment, requested ordination from the Buddha. The Buddha, recognizing the sincerity of Angulimala’s transformation, granted his request, welcoming him into the community of monks adorned with saffron robes and shaven heads.
Even as Angulimala embraced the monastic life, local villagers, fearing his past atrocities, sought protection from King Pasenadi. The king, in response, assembled an army and approached the monastery. Despite the villagers’ pleas to “stamp him out,” the Buddha’s wisdom paved the way for an unexpected resolution.
When questioned by the Buddha about how he would treat Angulimala if he had truly renounced violence, King Pasenadi underwent a profound transformation. The Buddha’s teachings on discernment and compassion prompted the king to reconsider his stance. Witnessing Angulimala’s monkhood, the king shifted from disbelief to acceptance, vowing to support him on his path to redemption.
The Angulimala Sutta not only narrates the personal transformation of a notorious murderer but also highlights the transformative power of compassion and wisdom. The Buddha’s fearlessness, compassion, and skillful means shattered the shackles of violence that bound Angulimala. Moreover, the sutta portrays the ripple effect of transformation, as even King Pasenadi undergoes a change of heart. This timeless tale serves as an enduring testament to the potential for redemption, forgiveness, and the profound impact of the Buddha’s teachings on even the most deeply entrenched patterns of suffering.
In 64 AD, Emperor Ming of the Eastern Han Dynasty sent Cai Yin and others on a mission to the Western Regions to retrieve Buddhist scriptures. The following year, in 65 AD, Cai Yin, Qin Jing, and others met the esteemed Indian monks She Moteng and Zhu Falan in Greater Yuezhi (present-day Afghanistan), where they were introduced to Buddhist scriptures and statues for the first time. In 67 AD, the Han envoy team returned to Luoyang with the high monks She Moteng, Zhu Falan, and the Buddhist scriptures and statues carried by a white horse. The two high monks were welcomed with a grand reception by Emperor Ming, who also commissioned the construction of China’s first temple, the White Horse Temple in Luoyang, especially for them.
White Horse Temple
On the first day of the first month in the fourteenth year of Yongping, Taoists from the Five Sacred Mountains submitted a petition requesting a competition with the Brahmin monks to determine the superiority of China’s native Taoism versus the foreign Buddhism. Emperor Ming granted the Taoists’ request. In 71 AD, a historic Buddhist-Taoist debate and contest unfolded in Chinese Buddhist history.
As the competition began, the Taoists said, “Let’s start with debating. You monks pride yourselves on eloquently explaining the Dharma, don’t you? So, let’s have a debate! If you can make one point, we will make two; if you raise one, we will counter with three. Go ahead and present your profound arguments!”
She Moteng slowly lifted one foot and raised it towards the sky, smiling, and said, “Amitabha, I have raised one, now it’s your turn to raise three!”
The Taoists looked at each other, stumped, and couldn’t think of a way to counter for a long time. They then changed the subject: “Let’s compare theories. You Buddhists call yourselves ‘Inner Learning,’ while you call us ‘Heterodox.’ But throughout history, when discussing inner and outer, inner has always been smaller than outer. So, your Inner Learning is small, and cannot compare to our great Heterodox!”
She Moteng brought his palms together in a gesture of respect and slowly explained: “The emperor resides in the inner palace, while the common people live in the outer city; although the inner palace is small, the emperor is great. The heart is inside the body, while the hands and feet are outside, the activity of the heart is boundless, while the movements of the hands and feet are limited. This is another example of how the inner is superior to the outer. Think carefully, the Inner Learning of Buddhism is much greater than the Heterodox!”
The Taoists, unable to win the debate, finally said, “Let’s compare magical powers!” How to compare? By placing the scriptures spoken by the Buddha and the scriptures spoken by the Taoist tradition together and burning them with fire. If one’s scriptures burn, then they are false; if one’s scriptures don’t burn, then they are true.
So, in the south of White Horse Temple, two high platforms were set up, one in the east and one in the west. The east platform held the Buddhist scriptures, images, and relics, while the west platform held the Taoist scriptures.
At that time, five hundred Taoist priests gathered the Taoist scriptures and magical texts together and prayed to the Supreme Lord Laozi, saying: “Oh, Taoist Virtuous Sage! Please show great divine power, and make our Taoist scriptures not burn, and let the Buddhist scriptures burn.”
Many of the Taoist priests at that time had supernatural powers – some could ride clouds and fog, some could fly in the sky and hide underground, and some could become invisible. Invisible means that you could see him right in front of you, and then suddenly he’s gone! There were Taoist priests with such abilities. They could use evasion techniques – Qimen Dunjia, to escape, and with Taoist spells and incantations, they had great supernatural powers.
But what happened when the fire was lit? The Buddhist scriptures did not burn; they emitted light! The Buddha’s relics also emitted a five-colored light, and the scriptures emitted light up into the sky, as if the sun was shining upon the world.
What about the Taoist scriptures? They caught fire as soon as they were burned and were completely destroyed by the fire. Those who could ride clouds and fog could no longer ride clouds or exhibit supernatural powers; those who could fly in the sky could no longer fly; those who could hide underground could no longer hide; those who could become invisible could no longer become invisible. Their spells and incantations also lost their effectiveness and had no power.
She Moteng and Zhu Falan, the two venerable monks, were responsible for overseeing this scripture contest, which was of great significance for the rise or fall of Buddhism. To strengthen the faith of the masses, She Moteng and Zhu Falan displayed eighteen divine transformations, levitating in the sky and reciting the following verses:
“The fox is not of the lion’s kind, a lamp is not as bright as the sun and moon; a pond cannot hold the vast sea, a hill cannot match the towering mountain. The Dharma cloud descends upon the world, the Dharma rain nourishes all beings. Supernatural powers are rare, manifesting everywhere to transform sentient beings.”
“The fox is not of the lion’s kind” means that, although the fox spirit is cunning and can change shape, it is far inferior to the lion. The fox and the lion cannot be compared; they are not of the same kind. This is saying that the breadth of Taoism is like the smallness of the fox, different from Buddhism, which has the grandeur of a lion.
“The lamp is not as bright as the sun and moon” refers to how the light of a lamp or a candle, which were small in the past, is far less bright than the light of the sun and moon. This means that the scriptures and teachings of Taoism are like the light of a lamp, while the Buddhist scriptures and teachings are like the light of the sun and moon, incomparable.
“A pond cannot hold the vast sea” means that a small pond has a limited capacity and can only hold a small amount of water, while the vast sea can accommodate many rivers. The pond and the sea cannot be spoken of in the same breath. This is a metaphor comparing the theories of Taoism to a small pond, while the teachings of Buddhism are like the vast and boundless sea.
“A hill cannot match the towering mountain” means that a small hill cannot compare to the grand and towering Mount Song, one of the Five Sacred Mountains of China. If the practice of Taoism is like a small hill, then the profound teachings of Buddhism are like the towering cliffs and deep ravines of ancient trees.
“The Dharma cloud descends upon the world, the Dharma rain nourishes all beings” means that when Buddhism spread to China, it was like a cloud of Dharma, like sweet dew, pervading the world and nourishing all beings.
“Supernatural powers are a rare thing” means that I have now shown supernatural powers, which is a rare and precious thing in the world.
“Everywhere transforming sentient beings” means that in reality, I did not want to show supernatural powers, and I did not want to compete with you. This is a last resort, for the purpose of guiding you and leading you to a brighter path, I am doing this as a convenient means.
After this contest, Buddhism took deep roots in China, not only producing a succession of talented individuals but also establishing a glorious foundation. White Horse Temple became the first and foremost temple in Chinese Buddhist history, and temples began to be built one after another. Ever since then the marvelous fruits and wondrous flowers of Chinese Buddhism have continued to flourish from generation to generation.
The True Story of Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng)
Article provided by Jinghan
There have been great practitioners who attained the accomplishment of the Rainbow-Light Body (the ability of moving one’s body anywhere at will without being blocked or stopped by any material or force) in our current era. This is a true story. A Khenpo who cultivated at the Zhuqing Temple, in order to liberate himself at the time of Cultural Revolution in China and in order to inspire the later generations to believe in the Buddha-dharma, manifested his entering of nirvana in the form of demonstrating his Rainbow-Light Body.
There really have been great practitioners with the accomplishment of Rainbow-Light Body! Khenpo Chichengluozhu once investigated and reported such an event.
Under Shining Daylight and in Front of Many People’s Eyes, a Person Vanished with His Body into Nowhere
Investigation on a person’s mysterious disappearance 44 years ago
Time can erase people’s memory on many things in the past. As each day slipped by us, we may suddenly realize that the past would never come back. Only some very special events will pass the filtering of time to remain at the bottom of our hearts and coalesce into unforgettable scenes in our memory.
I am certain that, to many people who live in Tongde County, Huangnan Region, Qinghai Province, Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng) is such a treasured memory in their minds. This great accomplished practitioner of the Nyingma Sect who suddenly flew away and disappeared into the sky in September, 1958, in front of the soldiers who escorted him, has evolved from a topic of after-dinner chat among local people into a legendary character in people’s minds. He was eventually elevated into the status of a spiritual leader and source of confidence. During the time of over 40 years that the story has been spread by word of mouth, a question exists. Is this an image created by people’s illusion for resting their fragile hearts, or is this a living drama of freedom from birth and death performed by a truly accomplished practitioner with the achievement of flying and vanishing away? Many people, including myself, had thought about, analyzed, and even doubted this matter. However, we all based our thinking on a simple and self-evident truth: we cannot rule out the possible existence of something we did not see. Insisting on seeing-with-my-own-eyes and hearing-with-my-own-ears may still lead to hearing “true stories” from other people. In analyzing a complex event, respecting the facts is the best way in finding the underlying truth. Only time can provide the most fair and eventual testing and judgment. With such a motive, I stepped onto the legendary land of Huangnan in Qinghai Province. My sole purpose was to depict a true picture of and provide the true story about Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng), for benefiting the people, especially the future generations.
1. Brief Introduction on the Life of Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng)
Before I describe the process and findings from my investigation, let me first give an introduction on the life of this Master of the Nyingma Sect to the readers. I’d like to stress the following: the information and materials I collected were all from reliable sources.
Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng) was born in 1883, in Maiwa Village of Hongyuan County, Sichuan Province. At the age of 10, he entered the Zhaxiquenang (meaning auspicious dharma bell) Temple to study the dharma. When he was 15, he had a formal ceremony to receive the precepts and became a monk. Then, he immediately went to the Zhuqing Temple, one of the six major temples of the Nyingma Sect to study the Tripitaka and took refuge with a number of great accomplished masters. At the age of 25, he received the perfect and complete precepts of Bhiksu to become a monk. Since then, he strictly abided by the precepts and carefully avoided violations as if protecting his own eyes. Eventually, his clothing, waist belt, meditation mattress and other things used daily all had a clear and pure scent coming out of them. During this long period of cultivation and questing for the dharma, he received many initiations within the lineage of the Nyingma Sect, and demonstrated many times that he had above-normal character, including being conversant in the Sutra and Tantra teachings and superlative wisdom. When he was 30, he was accepted by Maipeng Rinpoche to learn the profound dharma. When the Master taught him the dharma with the linage from Manjushri Bodhisattva, he was instantly enlightened by the essence of the Bright and Great Perfection. From then on, he easily commanded many Sutras and the classic books of Esoteric Buddhism (tantras).
Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng) then went to the mountains to cultivate ascetic practices. His ascetic practices can truly be regarded as representative and a role model among all ascetic practitioners. First, because of the living conditions at the time, the external environment for practicing asceticism was extremely challenging and tough. On the other hand, Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin’s (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng’s) will and determination through his persistence and devotion under the cruel conditions were very moving and inspiring to other people. Every meal, he just ate a little roasted barley flour along with a bowl of water. Such a daily intake of thin flour soups had made a small bag of roasted barley flour last for a whole year. He lived such a life without sufficient food throughout the long period of ascetic practices. At one time, when roasted barley flour and cooking oil was used up, he had to cook the cow-skin container bag for cooking oil as food to sustain his life. The lack of food was not the only major hindrance for Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng). With no oil for light at night, he could only study books by moonlight. While climbing the hill following the movement of moonlight, he would eventually reach the summit peak. There was such scenery at the place he was cultivating: when the sunlight began to shine on the summit peak, his shadow would be there to see off the last ray of moonlight. During the nights without moonlight, he would use the almost lightless light from the ashes of the cooking bonfire to read the Sutras.
To Tsewang Rigdzin (Chaiwan Runzheng), his sleeping at night had almost been completely substituted by meditation. He had no additional clothing to what he wore during the day for keeping warm at night. Through such ascetic practices, one night in his dreams, he met the founding master of Tibetan Esoteric Buddhism, Guru Padmasambhava, who was wearing an amber necklace. Since then, his wisdom was so stimulated that he was able to memorize and recite Sutras that are as long as 24,000 words.
While cultivating inside the snow mountain near the Zhuqing Temple, Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng) ate only one meal a day. Sometimes, he might be without food for three days in a row. To make himself more alert and to keep from falling asleep during meditation, he sat on the snow-covered ground with bare-feet, wearing only one short skirt! Due to the long-time exposure to ice and snow, his feet suffered permanent damage and since then he could only walk with the aid of two walking sticks.
That is how this genuine practitioner cultivated himself under all types of hardships and stress. He applied all aspects of his three karmas of body, voice, and mind to quest for and to experience the essence of the dharma. At the same time, his life demonstrated, to people in this world, the possibility and pathway in attaining enlightenment in one’s current life. Even the side effects he suffered in the form of bodily handicaps (he needed to be carried in order to move) was just an indication of not being attached to worldly affairs from an accomplished practitioner with the achievement of the Rainbow-Light Body. Huadan, the care-taker of Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng), had in-depth knowledge on this. Once, Huadan was tying the waist belt for his master. Unexpectedly, the whole belt completely penetrated the waist of the Master and came back to his hand. Huadan was totally surprised. He did the tying one more time and made a tight knot. However, when he started to use a little force to tighten the belt, the whole belt again completely penetrated the Master’s body. Only then Huadan realized the real reason for what happened.
With the achievement of the Rainbow-Light Body, there was no shadow from the body of Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng) under light during evenings and at night. Another indication of the Rainbow-Light Body achievement is that the body cannot be blocked or stopped by any worldly material or force. Another care-taker of Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng), Arluo, had personally witnessed the penetrating capability of the Master’s body.
One day, Arluo was leaving home to run an errand. As usual, he left the Master resting in the bedroom and locked the door when leaving the house. When he was returning home from the errand, he was totally shocked to see the Master sitting outside the house. Normally, the Master would be carried to get out of the house for sunlight. How could he get out this time, with the door being locked? Arluo verified that the door was still locked and without any damage. Then he checked the window, which was also closed from the inside. Besides, the size of the window would not even allow a person to get through. The only possible answer was that Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin’s (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng’s) body had become a Rainbow-Light Body or Vajra-immortal body.
Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng) had pushed away all worldly attachment to concentrate on cultivating the path toward the supreme Buddha-dharma. However, due to certain causes and affinity, in 1951, at the elderly age of 68, he was respectfully invited to be in change of the Shangdan Temple in Tongde County, Huangnan Region of Qinghai Province. At that time, Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Master Chaiwan Runzheng) was quietly cultivating in the Yellow-Dragon Holly Mountain in Jiuzhaigou area of Sichuan Province. The invitation came from Jinmei-deqing-duojie, the reincarnated third-generation Zhongwuo Rinpoche, who was the founding master of the Digan Temple in Tongde County. At that time, the construction of the Shangdan Temple was not completed yet. With the help of Jinmei-deqing-duojie Rinpoche, Master Tsewang Rigdzin (Chaiwan Runzheng) oversaw the completion and opening of Shangdan Temple at the end of 1951. Since then, I have been the abbot of the Shangdan Temple. Before 1958, Shangdan Temple had been the home base of Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng) for propagating the dharma and benefiting living beings.
Another event that occurred during this period can be regarded as a footnote to the later mysterious disappearance of Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng). After he had settled in Shangdan Temple, his hometown Hongyuan kept sending people to ask him to come back. Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng) declined all their invitations. Once, after going to the toilet, he called his disciples over and said, “These (people from Hongyuan) insisted on getting me back there, but I will not go. Through the years, my practice of the Phowa Dharma has reached a very high level. I am able to reincarnate myself. The temple here is still relatively new, you all must manage everything well. If they force me to go back, I will reincarnate myself on the way back.”
This story tells us that Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng) was able to control his life or death using the Phowa Dharma. There were more examples that provided explanations to what he did later on. Here is another.
Three people, Dawa, Wangqin and Nanda, who currently still live in Tongde County, remember to this day an event that occurred shortly before Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin’s (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng’s) flying away. At the time, they and the Khenpo were to be sent to prison. Before starting their prison terms, the four and some other detainees were temporally held in a military camp. Dawa was 21 years old and Wangqin and Nanda were about the same age. The three all witnessed a scene of the Khenpo’s practicing the Phowa Dharma in front of people.
When the Khenpo chanted the first sound of “Ho”, they all saw that his hair pointed upward and his ears were growing and expanding, until reaching the forehead. At that time, an officer quickly came and pointed his pistol toward the Khenpo’s head. The Khenpo was not at all affected by this. He spitted another “Ho.” The three then saw that all his hairs were pointing up and the ears had grown to the top of his head. The officer then yelled to the Khenpo for a while, as if telling him not to make the sound of “Ho” again. The Khenpo calmly accepted the officer’s instruction and stopped the Phowa Dharma. He said OK to the officer.
44 years after that, the elderly Dawa was still very moved when talking about that event: “I was very close to the Master at the time. There were only two people between him and me. I clearly saw the entire process from beginning to the end. Now I understand. If the Master wished to leave, he could have done that right away but he chose to stay for the time being.”
2. Flying Away into the Sky
Let’s end here the brief introduction about Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin’s (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng’s) life before his flying-away. What is described below is one popular version of the event that was commonly known to the elder local people in Tongde County. This version was known to most people and believed by most people. Our investigation, witness interviewing, analysis and verification were conducted around this version.
According to local people, one day in September of 1958, a mass assembly was to be held near the Digan Temple in Tongde County to criticize and interrogate Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng). At that time, he was already in jail in the County Prison. Several small hills must be crossed from the prison to the site of the mass assembly. Several soldiers were escorting the Khenpo after taking him from the prison. Because of his handicap, the Khenpo was allowed to ride on the back of a red yak. When the group of five or six people were approaching their destination, an extremely strong and violent whirlwind (cyclone) suddenly took place. The wind was so strong that none of the soldiers could open their eyes. Their location at the time was close to the top of a hill, with a distance of several kilometers from the Digan Temple. After the wind had gone away, the soldiers started to look around. However, Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng) was no longer on the yak. Before starting the trip, to prevent an accident, the soldiers had tied the Khenpo tightly on the back of the yak with rope. All their efforts were proven to be in vain, because the Khenpo had flown into the sky, accompanied by several auspicious colored clouds. This event was witnessed by many people at the scene.
3. My Investigation
If you come to Tongde County and mention the name of Khenchen Tsewang Rigdzin (Khenpo Chaiwan Runzheng) to people, almost anyone will tell the above story to you in similar details. Even though the story is so commonly known, I still decided to do my investigation from the start. My first goal was to clarify the doubt many people may have. On the other hand, I wanted to have the facts recorded truthfully. I wished to find out: did people put their feelings into the story so the truth got covered by kind lies? Also, between legend and fact, to what degree and scope can the truth be re-manifested?
The people I interviewed in my investigation included some who were escorting the Khenpo at the time; those who were near the location when the Khenpo was flying away, including some eye witnesses; and a number of people who listened to the entire story from eye witnesses. When putting their words into text, I wrote down exactly what they said almost without editing a word. My goal was to let the readers draw their own conclusions naturally, without being influenced by the subjective and, possibly, already fixed thinking in my mind. I believe that this style of truthfully presenting the original narration would be convincing to the readers.
My first interview was with the elderly Zhimei, who is 77 years old now. He was a local shepherd in Tongde County. He told me:
“On the day when Master Tsewang Rigdzin (Chaiwan Runzheng) was taken from the prison to the site of the mass meeting, I was watching cattle on one of the hills he must pass. I saw several soldiers passing by with the Master. They tied the Master onto the back of a red yak. When they went over the top of the hill, I was with the cattle half way on the hill. Then, I suddenly saw the Master, in monk’s clothing, started to ascend from the other side of the hill. At the beginning, he was flying up slowly. Eventually he disappeared into the clouds. Many people said that there was a strong swirling wind and auspicious colorful clouds appeared in the sky but I did not see those scenes. This may be because I was half way up this side of the hill, while the Master had already gone to the other side. All I saw was that the Master flew into the sky. I saw that with my own eyes. I was still young then with good eye sight. It would be impossible that what I saw was some illusion. Years later, the charges to those jailed in 1958 were dropped. The Master’s hometown Hongyuan also sent people to request the Master’s remains from Tongde County. I knew that they would not get them because the Master flew away into the sky. I saw that with my own eyes. I told this to my family members but I dare not to tell the people from Hongyuan. After all these years, now as an elderly person of almost 80 years old, I am telling this story again from my memory. Do you think I would fabricate it to deceive you? I absolutely do not have any false statement in it. I do not have any reason to lie on this. In general, there are two possible motives for one to lie. One is trying to reap benefits from doing so. The other is being forced to lie and under pressure. My situation has nothing to do with either of these. That’s why I can guarantee you that I did not make any false statement in what I said.”
The elderly Zhimei was an eye witness of the event. The next person I met, Chongpeier, provided detailed collaborating materials in many aspects. Also, he was the most talkative person among those I interviewed.
Chongpeier is over 60 now. He is a local resident and currently stays at home after retiring from his job. He was a middle-level cadre of Tongde County. He described to me, in great detail, what he learned on this event:
“I remember that it was a day in October of 1988. I was the director of the Bureau of Industry and Commerce Management of Tongde County then. On that day, when it was near the end of workday, a Han (mandarin) person came to see me and invited me to have dinner with him. At the dinner table, he told me his purpose of looking for me. His name was Li Desheng and he was from the Shangchun Village of Huangzhong County in Qihai Province. He came to Tongde County to buy about 500 head of cattle and lambs from local people. He wanted to ask me a favor of collecting less taxes and fees from him. He told me that he knew many senior officials in Tongde County very well, but not me. I asked him where he had worked before. He said that he has been a soldier in the security force of Tongde County and had risen to the position of a squad leader. While we were enjoying wine and dining, he told me a miraculous experience of his that was beyond imagination:
‘I saw a person who flew away in front of my own eyes. At that time, I and several soldiers of my squad were escorting that Lama from the prison to the mass meeting site near the Digan Temple. We tied him tightly onto the back of a yak and surrounded him as we were on our way. While we were climbing the hill and close to the top, he started to chant something that we could not understand. At the top of the hill, we ordered him to stop making the sound. Then we saw that the other side of the hill was flat land. Suddenly, many pieces of colored clouds flew over. The Lama got carried away by the clouds!
“The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King” is the main theme of the murals in Cave 257 of the Mogao Caves. It unfolds in a long horizontal scroll, narrating many stories from the past life of the founder of Buddhism, Siddhartha Gautama.
Legend has it that long ago, on the banks of the Ganges River in India, there lived a beautiful and kind nine-colored deer king (the previous incarnation of Siddhartha Gautama)…
One day, as the nine-colored deer king was leisurely strolling by the river, he suddenly heard a pitiful cry from the water. Without hesitation, the brave nine-colored deer leaped into the river, risking its own safety, and rescued the drowning person. The saved individual, overwhelmed with gratitude for a second chance at life, repeatedly bowed in thanks to the nine-colored deer.
The nine-colored deer king said, “No need for thanks; just go on your way. My only request is that you do not reveal my whereabouts to anyone.” The drowning person solemnly swore, “Kind benefactor, rest assured. If I ever betray this promise, may my body be covered in sores and my mouth emit a foul odor.” With that, the person departed.
Before long, the queen of that country dreamt of a deer—one with nine colors and silver-like antlers. She told the king about her dream and requested that he order the capture of such a deer. She had a strong desire to use its colorful hide for clothing and its antlers for earrings. Consequently, the king issued a proclamation and offered a substantial reward.
Upon seeing the proclamation, the person who had been saved reported to the king, leading soldiers to the mountain to hunt down the nine-colored deer.
When the nine-colored deer was surrounded by the king’s troops… it spotted the person it had rescued from drowning, tears of sorrow welled up in its eyes…
The nine-colored deer leaped in front of the king and recounted the story of how it had saved the person from drowning and how that person had broken his promise. The king and the soldiers were deeply moved by the deer’s account. The king ordered the soldiers to clear a path, allowing the nine-colored deer to regain its freedom. He also issued a decree: “From now on, people are not allowed to shoot deer.”
As for the person who had broken his promise, in an instant, sores covered his body, and a foul odor emanated from his mouth. From that moment on, he was despised and reviled by the people.
The story of the nine-colored deer is vividly portrayed in Cave 257 of the Dunhuang Grottoes, which is what we now see as “The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King.” While the mural is not particularly large in size, it holds significant importance in Chinese art history.
This artwork takes the form of a horizontal scroll with the story unfolding from both ends and converging in the middle. It consists of multiple scenes depicting various stages of the story, such as its origin, development, climax, and conclusion, all seamlessly connected to create a cohesive narrative.
“The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King” is composed of nine panels, illustrating five key plot points: the person drowning, the nine-colored deer rescuing the drowning person, the drowning person expressing gratitude to the deer, the queen’s desire to capture the deer, the informant revealing the deer’s whereabouts to the king, and the confrontation between the king and the deer.
The story progresses from both ends of the mural towards the center, placing the pivotal conversation between the king and the deer in the middle. This unique composition style captures the essence of continuous horizontal scroll art from the Wei and Jin dynasties, showcasing the distinctive historical aesthetics of the era.
In the artwork, the depiction of mountains, rocks, and rivers occupies a significant portion. The rendering of the landscape primarily serves to fill the space and delineate the composition, providing a brief description of the specific environment, thereby enhancing the visual impact of the artwork and its storytelling function.
“The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King” places the climax of the story—the moment when the nine-colored deer recounts the events—at the center of the composition. At the same time, both nine-colored deer on the left and right sides turn their bodies toward the center, serving as visual guides.
This is precisely the turning point in the storyline of the nine-colored deer, where the drowning person’s affliction receives its retribution. It places the Buddhist concept of rewarding goodness and punishing evil at the visual forefront, narrating the sequence of events step by step to gradually reveal the story’s progression to the viewer.
The entire process is rhythmic, marked by the ebb and flow of the narrative, skillfully aligning the chronological order with the spatial arrangement, showcasing the artist’s unique conceptualization of the composition.
In terms of color usage, “The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King” appears to be very vibrant, but in reality, it uses a limited color palette, consisting of only six colors. The earthy red color dominates the entire painting, which is a prominent color characteristic of the Wei, Jin, Northern and Southern Dynasties period.
Complementing this are touches of stone blue and stone green, along with the harmonious blending of black, white, and gray. This blending softens the strong contrast between earthy red and stone green and blue, achieving a harmonious contrast of warm and cool tones. At the same time, it also accentuates the brightness of contrasting colors.
The introduction of Buddhism had a significant impact on the development of portraiture in China, introducing a set of strict conventions for Buddhist iconography. During the Northern Wei dynasty, the Dunhuang murals began to emphasize body proportions and adopted more attention to three-dimensionality after incorporating color shading techniques.
In “The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King,” most of the figures on the canvas have slender bodies, with their clothing belts fluttering in the wind. Their gestures and movements exude a graceful dance-like elegance, evoking the style of figures that “float like wandering dragons and are delicate as startled swans.”
In the murals of the Northern Wei period in Dunhuang, Jataka stories are an important theme. Jataka stories refer to the countless events and experiences in the past lives of Siddhartha Gautama, who would later become the founder of Buddhism. In history, there are numerous Jataka stories related to Siddhartha Gautama.
Within Buddhist art themes, there are many Jataka story paintings, and “The Story of the Nine-Colored Deer King” is just one of them. Story paintings are used to promote the Buddhist concept of karmic retribution and to praise the spirit of self-sacrifice displayed by the Nine-Colored Deer King.
In reality, all Jataka paintings ultimately convey one message: that by performing good deeds, selflessly giving, and enduring hardships, one can achieve positive outcomes, whereas engaging in wrongful actions will lead to self-destruction.
In the tranquil solitude of a monastery, an old monk devoted his time to cultivating a pot of delicate orchids. Each day, he lavished care upon these tender blooms, diligently tending to their needs by watering and weeding them with unwavering dedication.
As a result of the old monk’s meticulous attention, the orchids flourished under his care, displaying an elegant and breathtaking beauty that mirrored his own inner peace.
One day, the old monk found himself with a commitment that required him to leave the monastery to meet with friends. In his absence, he entrusted the nurturing of the cherished orchids to a young monk. He handed over the responsibility, emphasizing the importance of their care.
With a sense of honor and respect for the elder monk’s teachings, the young monk embraced his duty wholeheartedly. He approached the task just as the old monk had, showing genuine care and tenderness towards the orchids. Under his watchful eye, the orchids continued to thrive and bloom.
However, fate took an unexpected turn. On a day when the young monk had diligently watered the orchids and positioned them on a windowsill to soak in the sunlight, a sudden and fierce rainstorm struck. Powerful winds knocked the orchids from their perch, causing them to shatter upon impact.
Upon his return, the young monk was met with the heartbreaking sight of the shattered remnants of the once-beautiful orchids. He was overwhelmed with sorrow, dreading the old monk’s reaction and fearing his reprimand for failing in his entrusted duty.
Several days later, the old monk returned to the monastery. The young monk gathered the courage to confess the unfortunate incident, ready to face whatever consequence may arise from his actions.
Surprisingly, the old monk responded with silence. This unexpected reaction left the young monk puzzled and uncertain. After a moment, the old monk’s serene countenance broke into a calm smile, and he uttered words that carried profound wisdom, “I don’t cultivate orchids to get angry.”
In that simple and sincere statement, the old monk revealed a profound truth about his serene attitude towards life. The cultivation of the orchids was not about breeding frustration or anger; rather, it represented a deeper pursuit—the nurturing of one’s character and inner qualities. The orchids, though precious, were symbolic of the journey to refine one’s life and embrace noble virtues.
Life, much like a bustling marketplace, presents us with an array of experiences, people, and emotions. Some individuals exhibit unwavering positivity and joy, while others grapple with restlessness and anxiety. Our perspectives differ, our thought processes vary, and as a consequence, our approaches to problem-solving diverge greatly.
So, how can we navigate the sea of life’s challenges and find solace amidst the chaos? The answer lies in the simple yet profound art of detachment. By relinquishing our attachments and embracing life’s imperfections, we can begin to comprehend the transient nature of all things. Just as clouds swiftly drift across the sky, life’s moments are fleeting and subject to the universal cycle of existence.
The key lies in cultivating a mindset of detachment and releasing the grip of selfish desires. In doing so, we can expand our hearts, broaden our perspectives, and uncover a sense of tranquility that transcends the storms of life. Through this journey of self-discovery, we can learn from the wisdom of the orchids and the serenity of the old monk—finding beauty not just in the blooms, but in the growth of our own souls.
Once upon a time, in Benares in northern India, the Enlightenment Being was born into the royal family. When he became king he was called Goodness the Great. He had earned this title by trying to do good all the time, even when the results might not benefit him. For example, he spent much of the royal treasury on the building and running of six houses of charity. In these houses good and aid were given freely to all the poor and needy who came along, even to unknown travellers. Soon King Goodness the Great became famous for his patience, loving-kindness and compassion. It was said that he loved all beings just like a father loves his young children.
Of course King Goodness observed the holy days by not eating. And naturally he practiced the ‘Five Training Steps’, giving up the five unwholesome actions. These are: destroying life, taking what is not given, doing wrong in sexual ways, speaking falsely, and losing one’s mind from alcohol. So his gentle kindness became more and more pure.
Since he wished to harm no one, King Goodness the Great even refused to imprison or injure wrongdoers. Knowing this, one of his highest ministers tried to take advantage of him. He cooked up a scheme to cheat some of the women in the royal harem. Afterwards it became known by all and was reported to the king.
He called the bad minister before him and said, ‘I have investigated and found that you have done a criminal act. Word of it has spread and you have dishonoured yourself here in Benares. So it would be better for you to go and live somewhere else. You may take all your wealth and your family. Go wherever you like and live happily there. Learn from this lesson.’
Then the minister took his family and al his belongings to the city of Kosala. Since he was very clever indeed, he worked his way up and became a minister of the king. In time he became the most trusted adviser to the King of Kosala. One day he said, ‘My lord, I came here from Benares. The city of Benares is like a beehive where the bees have no stingers! The ruling king is very tender and weak. With only a very small army you can easily conquer the city and make it yours.’
The king doubted this, so he said, “You are my minister, but you talk like a spy who is leading me into a trap!’ He replied “No my lord. If you don’t believe me, send your best spies to examine what I say. I am not lying. When robbers are brought to the King of Benares, he gives them money, advises them not to take what is not given, and then lets them go free,”
The king decided to find out if this was true. So he sent some robbers to raid a remote border village belonging to Benares. The villagers caught the looters and brought them to King Goodness the Great. He asked them, “Why do you want to do this type of crime?”
The robbers answered, “Your worship, we are poor people. There is no way to live without money. As your kingdom has plenty of workers, there is no work for us to do. So we had to loot the country in order to survive.” Hearing this, the king gave them gifts of money, advised them to change their ways, and let them go free.
When the King of Kosala was told of this, he sent another gang of bandits to the streets of Benares itself. They too looted the shops and even killed some of the people. When they were captured and brought to king Goodness, he treated them just the same as the first robbers.
Learning of this, the King of Kosala began marching his troops and elephants towards Benares.
In those days the King of Benares had a mighty army which included very brave elephants. There were many ordinary soldiers, and also some that were as big as giants. It was known that they were capable of conquering all India.
The giant soldiers told King Goodness about the small invading army from Kosala. They asked permission to attack and kill them all.
But King Goodness the Great would not send them into battle. He said, “My children, do not fight just so I may remain king. If we destroy the lives of others we also destroy our own peace of mind. Why should we kill others? Let them have the kingdom if they want it so badly. I do not wish to fight.”
The royal ministers said, “Our Lord, we will fight them ourselves. Don’t worry yourself. Only give us the order.” But again he prevented them.
Meanwhile the King of Kosala sent him a warning, telling him to give up the kingdom or fight. King Goodness the Great sent this reply: “I do not want you to fight with me, and you do not want me to fight with you. If you want the country, you can have it. Why should we kill people just to decide the name of the king? What does it matter even the name of the country itself?”
Hearing this, the ministers came forward and pleaded, “Our Lord, let us go out with our mighty army. We will beat them with our weapons and capture them all. We are much stronger than they are. We would not have to kill any of them. And besides, if we surrender the city, the enemy army would surely kill us all!”
But King Goodness would not be moved. He refused to cause harm to anyone. He replied, “Even if you do not wish to kill, by fighting many will be injured. By accident some may die. No one knows the future – whether our attackers will kill us or not. But we do know whether our present actions are right or wrong. Therefore I will not harm, or cause others to harm, any living being!”
Then King Goodness ordered the city gates be opened up for the invaders. He took his ministers to the top floor of the palace and advised them, “Say nothing and try to remain calm.”
The King of Kosala entered the city of Benares and saw that no one was against him. So he and his soldiers entered and went up to the top floor. They capture the innocent King Goodness the Great. The soldiers tied the hands of the defeated king and all of his ministers.
Then they were taken to the cemetery outside the city. They were buried up to their necks, standing straight up, with only their heads above ground. But even while the dirt was being trampled down around his neck, the Great Being remained without anger in his mind and said nothing.
Their discipline and obedience to King Goodness were so great that not a single minister spoke a word against anyone. But the King of Kosala had no mercy. He said roughly, “Come night time, let the jackals do as they please!”
And so it came to pass that, at midnight, a large band of jackals wandered into the cemetery. They could smell a feast of human flesh waiting for them.
Seeing them coming, King Goodness and his ministers shouted all at once and scared the jackals away. Twice more this happened. Then the clever jackals realised, “These men must have been put here for us to kill and eat.” No longer afraid, they ignored the shouts. The jackal king walked right up to the face of King Goodness.
The king offered his throat to the beast. But before he could bite into him, the king grabbed the jackal’s chin with his teeth. No harming him, King Goodness gripped him tightly so the jackal king howled in fear. This frightened his followers and they all ran away.
Meanwhile the jackal king thrashed back and forth, trying madly to free himself from the might jaws of the human king. In so doing, he loosened the dirt packed around the king’s neck and shoulders. Then King Goodness released the screaming jackal. He was able to wiggle himself free from the loosened earth and pull himself up onto the ground. Then he freed all his frightened ministers.
Nearby there was a dead body. It just so happened that it was lying on the border of the territories claimed by two rival demons. They were arguing over the division of the body, insulting each other in ways that only demons can.
Then one demon said to the other, “Why should we continue quarrelling instead of eating? Right over there is King Goodness the Great of Benares. He is famous in all worlds for his righteousness. He will divide the dead body for us.
They dragged the body to the king and asked him to divide it between them fairly. He said, ‘My friends, I would be glad to divide this for you. But I am filthy and dirty, I must clean myself first.”
The two demons used their magic powers to bring scented water, perfume, clothing, ornaments and flowers from the king’s own palace in Benares. He bathed, perfumed himself, dressed, and covered himself with ornaments and flower garlands.
The demons asked King Goodness if there was anything else they could do. He replied that he was hungry. So, again by their magic powers, the demons brought the most delicious flavoured rice in a golden bowl and perfumed drinking water in a golden cup — also from the royal palace in Benders.
When he was satisfied, king Goodness asked them to bring him the sword of state from the pillow of the King of Kosala, who was sleeping in the palace in Benares. With magic that too was easily done. Then the king used the sword to cut the dead boy into two halves, right down the spine. He washed the sword of state and strapped it to his side.
The hungry demons happily gobbled up the fairly divided dead body. Then they gratefully said to King Goodness, “Now that our bellies are full, is there anything else we can do to please you?”
He replied, “By your magic, set me in my own bedroom in the palace next to the King of Kosala. In addition, put all these my ministers back in their homes.” Without a word, the demons did exactly as the king had asked.
At that moment the King of Kosala was fast asleep in the royal bedchamber. King Goodness the Great gently touched the belly of the sleeping king with the sword of state. The king awoke in great surprise. In the dim lamplight he was frightened to see King Goodness leaning over him with sword in hand. He had to rub his eyes to make sure he was not having a nightmare!”
Then he asked the great king, “My lord how did you come here in spite of all my guards? You were buried up to your neck in the cemetery — how is it you are spotlessly clean, sweet smelling, dressed in your own royal robes, and decorated with fine jewellery and the loveliest flowers?”
King Goodness told him the story of his escape from the band of jackals. He told of the two demons that came to him to settle their quarrel. And he told how they gratefully helped him with their magic powers.
On hearing this, the King of Kosala was overcome by his own shame. He bowed his head to King Goodness the Great and cried, “Oh great king, the stupid ferocious demons, who live by eating the flesh and drinking the blood of dead bodies — they recognised your supreme goodness. But I, who was lucky enough to be born as an intelligent and civilised human being — I have been too foolish to see how wonderful your pure goodness is.
“I promise never again to plot against you, my lord —- you who have gained such perfect harmlessness. And I promise to serve you forever as the truest of friends. Please forgive me, great king.” Then, as if he were a servant, the King of Kosala laid King Goodness the Great down on the royal bed, while he himself lay on a small couch.
The next day the King of Kosala called all his soldiers into the palace courtyard. There he publicly praised the king of Benares and asked his forgiveness once again. He gave back the kingdom and promised that he would always protect King Goodness. Then he punished his adviser, the criminal minister, and returned to Kosala with all his troops and elephants.
King Goodness the Great was sitting majestically on his golden throne, with its legs like those of a gazelle. He was shaded from the sun by the pure white royal umbrella. He taught his loyal subjects saying, “People of Benares wholesomeness begins with giving up the five unwholesome actions once and for all. The highest qualities of the good person, whether ruler or subject, are loving-kindness and compassion. Filled with these qualities, one cannot harm another —- no matter what the reason or the cost. No matter how dangerous the threat, one must persevere until the greatness of the good heart wins in the end.”
Throughout the rest of his reign, the people of Benares lived peacefully and happily. King Goodness the Great continued performing wholesome works. Eventually he died and was reborn as he deserved.
The moral is: Refusing to harm others, the good heart wins over all.
Once upon a time, there was a crane who lived near a small pond. Right next to the pond was a big tree with a fairy living in it. He learned by observing the various animals.
There were also many small fish living in the small pond. The crane was in the habit of picking up fish with his beak and eating them. Since there happened to be a drought in the area, the water level in the pond was becoming lower and lower. This made it easier for the crane to catch fish. In fact, he was even getting to be a little fat!
However, the crane discovered that no matter how easy it was to catch fish, and no matter how many he ate, he was never completely satisfied. But he did not learn from this. Instead, he decided that if he ate all the fish in the pond, then he would find true happiness. “The more the merrier!” he said to himself.
In order to catch all the fish in the pond, the crane thought up a clever plan. He would trick the fish, and deceive them into trusting him. Then when they trusted him the most, he would gobble them up. He was very pleased with himself for thinking up such a trick.
To begin with, the crane sat down on the shore. He remained quietly in one position, just like a holy man in the forest. This was intended to get the fish to trust him.
The fish came to him and asked. “Sir crane, what are you thinking?” The holy-looking crane answered, “Oh my dear fish, it makes me sad to think of your future. I am thinking about the coming miserable disaster.”
They said, “My lord, what disaster is coming to us?” To which the crane replied, “Look around you! There is very little water left in this pond. You are also running out of food to eat. This severe drought is very dangerous for you poor little ones.”
Then the fish asked, “Dear uncle crane, what can we do to save ourselves?” “My poor little children,” said the crane, “you must trust me and do as I say. If you allow me to pick you up in my beak, I will take you, one at a time to another pond. That pond is much bigger than this one. It is filled with water and covered with lovely lotuses. It will be like a paradise for you!”
When they heard the part about the beak, the fish became a little suspicious. They said, “Mr. Crane, how can we believe you? Since the beginning of the world, there has never been a crane who wanted to help fish. Cranes have put fish in their beaks only to eat them. This must be a trick. Or else you must be joking!”
The crane then raised his head and made himself look as dignified as possible. He said, “Please don’t think such a thing. Can’t you see that I am a very special crane? You should trust me. But if you don’t believe me, send one fish with me and I will show him the beautiful pond. Then when I bring him back here, you will know I can be trusted.”
The fish said to each other, “This crane looks so dignified. He sounds like an honest crane. But just in case it’s a trick, let us send with him a useless little troublemaker fish. This will be a test.” Then they found a young fish who was known for playing hooky from school. They pushed him towards the shore.
The crane bent his head and picked up the little one in his beak. Then he spread his wings and flew to a big tree on the shore of a beautiful big pond. Just as he had said, it was covered with lovely lotuses. The fish was amazed to see such a wonderful place. Then the crane carried him back to his poor old pond, just as he had promised.
Arriving home, the little fish described the wonders of the beautiful big pond. Hearing this, all the other fish became very excited and rushed to be the first to go.
The first lucky passenger was that same useless little troublemaker. Again the crane picked him up in his beak and flew to the big tree on the shore of the beautiful new pond. The little one was sure the helpful crane was about to drop him into the wonderful pond. But instead, the crane suddenly killed him, gobbled up his flesh, and let the bones fall to the ground.
The crane returned to the old pond, brought the next little fish to the same tree, and ate him in the same way. Likewise, one by one, he gobbled up every last fish!
He became so stuffed with fish meat that he had trouble flying back to the little pond. He saw that there were no more fish left for him to trick and eat. Then he noticed a lonely crab crawling along the muddy shore. And he realized that he was still not completely satisfied!
So he walked over to the crab and said, “My dear crab, I have kindly carried all the fish to a wonderful big pond not far from here. Why do you wish to remain here alone? If you simply do as the fish have done, and let me pick you up in my beak, I will gladly take you there. For your own good, please trust me.”
But the crab thought, “There is no doubt this over-stuffed crane has eaten all those fish. His belly is so full he can hardly stand up straight. He definitely cannot be trusted! If I can get him to carry me to a new pond and put me in it, so much the better. But if he tries to eat me, I will have to cut off his head with my sharp claws.”
Then the crab said, “My friend crane, I am afraid I am much too heavy for you to carry in your beak. You would surely drop me along the way. Instead, I will grab onto your neck with my eight legs, and then you can safely carry me to my new home.”
The crane was so used to playing tricks on others, that he did not imagine he would be in any danger — even though the crab would be grasping him by the throat. Instead he thought, “Excellent! This will give me a chance to eat the sweet meat of this foolish trusting crab.”
So the crane permitted the crab to grab onto his neck with all eight legs. In addition, he grasped the crane’s neck with his sharp claws. He said, “Now kindly take me to the new pond.”
The foolish crane, with his neck in the clutches of the crab, flew to the same big tree next to the new pond.
Then the crab said, “Hey you stupid crane, have you lost your way? You have not taken me to the pond. Why don’t you take me to the shore and put me in?”
The crane said, “Who are you calling stupid? I don’t have to take that from you. You’re not my relative. I suppose you thought you tricked me into giving you a free ride. But I’m the clever one. Just look at all those fish bones under this tree. I’ve eaten all the fish, and now I’m going to eat you too, you stupid crab!”
The crab replied, “Those fish were eaten because they were foolish enough to trust you. But no one would trust you now. Because you tricked the fish, you have become so conceited you think you can trick anyone. But you can’t fool me. I have you by the throat. So if one dies, we both die!”
Then the crane realized the danger he was in. He begged the crab, “Oh my lord crab, please release me. I have learned my lesson. You can trust me. I have no desire to eat such a handsome crab as you.”
Then he flew down to the shore and continued, “Now please release me. For your own good, please trust me.”
But this old crab had been around. He realized the crane could not be trusted no matter what he said. He knew that if he let go of the crane, he would be eaten for sure. So he cut through his neck with his claws, just like a knife through butter! And the crane’s head fell on the ground. Then the crab crawled safely into the wonderful pond.
Meanwhile, the inquisitive fairy had also come to the new pond and seen all that had happened. Sitting on the very top of the big tree, he said for all the gods to hear:
“The one who lived by tricks and lies, No longer trusted now he dies.”
The moral is: The trickster who can’t be trusted, has played his last trick.
Many people struggle with the challenge of controlling their emotions. When faced with situations that contradict our feelings, desires, or goals, frustration and anger can easily overwhelm us, causing us to lose our temper and shift blame onto others. Unfortunately, such reactions often exacerbate the problem, leading to harm for ourselves and those around us. However, there are valuable lessons we can learn from a story that might inspire us to gain control over our anger and maintain peace and calm within our hearts.
The following story serves as a powerful reminder of the importance of non-reaction:
Once upon a time, there was a young man who was very interested in Zen Buddhism. He had read many books and articles about it, and he was eager to learn more. One day, he decided to visit a Zen master to ask him about the art of non-reaction.
The Zen master was a very old man with long white hair and a beard. He was sitting in the Lotus position on a cushion in his meditation room. The young man bowed respectfully and asked the Zen master to teach him about non-reaction.
The Zen master smiled and said, “Non-reaction is the ability to let go of your thoughts and emotions. It is the ability to see things as they are without judgment or attachment. When you can non-react, you are free from suffering.”
The young man was confused and asked, “How can I let go of my thoughts and emotions? They are a part of me.”
The Zen master replied, “Your thoughts and emotions are not a part of you. They are simply passing through you. You are the witness, not the actor. When you can see your thoughts and emotions for what they are, you will be free from them.”
The young man thought about this for a moment. He had never thought of his thoughts and emotions as being separate from him before, but the Zen master’s words made sense. “I will try to practice non-reaction,” he said.
The Zen master smiled and said, “Good, but remember, it is not something that can be forced. It comes with practice.”
The young man left the Zen master’s house and went on his way. He tried to practice non-reaction throughout the day, but it was difficult. Every time he thought about something that made him angry or upset, he would react. But the young man didn’t give up; he kept practicing, and slowly but surely, he began to get better at it.
He started to notice that when he didn’t react to his thoughts and emotions, they would eventually pass away on their own. One day, while walking down the street, he saw a man arguing with a woman. The man was yelling at the woman, and she was crying. The young man felt angry and upset, but he remembered what the Zen master had said. He took a deep breath and let go of his anger. He saw the man and the woman for what they were: two people caught up in their own suffering of karma. The young man walked away feeling peaceful and at ease. He had finally learned the art of non-reaction.
The young man continued to practice non-reaction throughout his life. He found that it was a powerful tool that helped him live a more peaceful and fulfilling life. He was able to let go of his anger, fear, and sadness, and he was able to see the world with a clear and open mind. The art of non-reaction is a powerful tool that can help us live happier and more fulfilling lives. It is not easy to master, but it is worth the effort.
Peace LiLy 