The Last Buddhas of Bamiyan, by John Aske

Smaller Bamyan Buddha from base, Afghanistan 1977 Photo: Phecda109 wikipedia.orgTwo hours north of Ghazni, on the road to Kabul, in an arid place, a dusty track leads westward. If you follow it, you enter a half-forgotten kingdom, and a legendary highway that traversed the known world. Beyond this, hidden in the mountains, are green valleys and rivers bordered with willows and hayfields. Even before Ashoka began spreading his empire through the western passes and into Bactria and Ghandara, traders had moved eastward and westward with caravans of silk and other precious goods bound for Balkh and distant Rome.

But at the beginning of the first millennium of our era, a new power arose in Asia. Its people had been driven westward by the consolidation of the Han empire. They settled in what is now known as Afghanistan, ending the rule of the Graeco-Buddhist kingdoms that had ruled there since Alexander’s conquest of Asia three hundred years before. Their empire flourished for about three centuries before they were overtaken by the expansion of the Sassanian kingdom in Iran, but their continuing influence was immense, and spread far beyond their borders across the whole of Asia. This influence strongly shaped eastern culture as we know it, and most particularly the development of Buddhism. This empire—the Kushan—seems to have been of people of largely Iranian stock, whose language had distinct affinities with the ancient Celtic tongues. Continue reading

The Record of Tung-Shan

Record of Tung-Shan

There really are some very interesting translations coming out nowadays [late 80s]. The Record of Tung-shan contains the teachings of Tung-shan Liang-chieh (807-869) who is regarded as the founder of the Ts’ao-tung (Jap. Soto) school.

The Master [Tung-Shan], whose personal name was Liang-chieh, was a member of the Yu family of Kuei-chi. Once, as a child, when reading the Heart Sutra with his tutor, he came to the line, ‘There is no eye, no ear, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind.’ He immediately felt his face with his hand, then said to his tutor, ‘I have eyes, ears, a nose, a tongue, and so on; why does the sutra say they don’t exist?’

This took the tutor by surprise, and, recognizing Tung-shan’s uniqueness, he said, ‘I am not capable of being your teacher.’

From there the Master went to Wu-hsieh Mountain, where, after making obeisance to Ch’an Master Mo, he took the robe and shaved his head. When he was twenty-one he went to Sung Mountain and took the complete precepts.

Continue reading

Prajnaparamita Bodhisattva

All I do is refrain from grasping after what is not real.
The Buddha, Prajnaparamita

The word Prajñāpāramitā combines the Sanskrit words prajñā (wisdom) with pāramitā (perfection)

The mind does not reside in the mind — its nature is pure light.
Perfect Wisdom, Prajnaparamita

I see in such a way that I see no ordinary people, no learners, and no adepts.
Manjushri, Prajnaparamita 700 lines

The Prajnaparamita (Perfection of Wisdom) texts, are said to be closest Buddhists got to putting truth (impossible task) into words.


13th century Singhasari East Javanese art. The statue was discovered in Cungkup Putri ruins near Singhasari temple, Singhasari, East Java. Today the statue is displayed in the second floor of National Museum of Indonesia, Jakarta.

Click here for more on Prajnaparamita

A Good Dose of Dhamma: For meditators when they are ill, by Upasika Kee Nanayon

Jizo Bosatsu in Welcoming Descent Normally, illness is something we all have, but the type of illness where you can still do your work isn’t recognised as illness. It’s called the normal human condition all over the world. Yet really, when the body is in its normal state, it’s still ill. But people generally are unaware of this illness: the deterioration of physical and mental phenomena, continually, from moment to moment.

The way people get carried away with their thoughts and preoccupations while they’re still strong enough to work — that’s real complacency. They’re no match for people lying in bed ill. People lying in bed ill are lucky because they have the opportunity to do nothing but contemplate stress and pain. Their minds don’t take up anything else, don’t go anywhere else. They can contemplate pain at all times — and let go of pain at all times, too.

Don’t you see the difference? The `emptiness’ of the mind when you’re involved in activities is `play’ emptiness, imitation emptiness. It’s not the real thing. But to contemplate inconstancy, stress, and not-selfness as it appears right inside you while you’re lying right here is very beneficial for you. Just don’t think that you’re what’s hurting. Simply see the natural phenomena of physical and mental events as they arise and pass away, arise and pass away. They’re not you. They’re not really yours. You don’t have any real control over them. Continue reading

In the moment of mindfulness, there is no suffering, by Ajahn Sumedho

Buddhist print. #endangeredarchives @bl_eapIn the moment of mindfulness, there is no suffering. I can’t find any suffering in mindfulness; it’s impossible; there’s absolutely none. But when there’s heedlessness, there is a lot of suffering in my mind. If I give in to grasping things, to wanting things, to following emotions or doubts and worries and being caught up in things like that—then there is suffering. It all begins from my grasping. But when there is mindfulness and right understanding, then I can’t find any suffering at all in this moment, now. This is about this moment here and now. It’s not about whether suffering exists as a kind of metaphysic or abstraction or theory of suffering. We’re not talking about suffering as a theory or an idea, but as an actual experience, here and now. There might be physical pain, but if we’re mindful, we reflect on this as: There is pain. It’s like this. But then we don’t create aversion around it; so there’s no suffering. If we have a fever or cancer or anything that people think is suffering, and then we’re mindful, there is no suffering in that moment. When there is heedlessness, we might worry or be caught in despair and negative states towards it. But at any moment of mindfulness and understanding, there is no suffering. Continue reading

Form is Void, by Shen Hui

White yarrow. Devon LaneOne of Shen Hui’s disciples spoke to him one day and said that other masters were teach­ing that form is not different from void and void not differ­ent from form. He’d heard Master Tsiun taking his own body as an example and re­marking that ‘this was Tsiun and at the same time not Tsiun’. Referring to his nose, ears, and each part of his body in turn, he’d considered them and rejected them all as not being Tsiun, saying that they were only fictional designations. ‘That which cannot be per­ceived,’ Tsiun had said, ‘is the void. And form exists only because the relative and the causal exist.’ Continue reading


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