..续本文上一页r it is approached, ever eluding the hand that tries to grasp it. It is like the fate of Tantalus to which man has become so habituated that he even finds it pleasant, saying that "it adds spice to life."

　　There are others who thirst after ever-widening horizons of life, seeking new sensory or mental experiences for their own sake; some who are enamored with their own prowess in confronting life; and some who enjoy their own creativeness. The latter includes many geniuses in perse fields who may well be reborn as those deities of the Buddhist tradition who "delight in their own creations" (nimmanarati-deva). Characteristic of this mentality is Gotthold Ephraim Lessing”s preference for the search for truth over the attainment of it; or Napoleon”s words that he loved power just as a musician loves his instrument: for the sake of the music he produces on it. Those who enjoy life for its own sake proudly aver that they are willing to pay the price for it in life”s coinage of suffering and pain, defeat and frustration. Often, however, this is just a heroic pose which hides feelings of frustration and pride. But even when that avowal is honest and stands firm against pain and failure, it will finally break down when body and mind lose their strength, or when satiety and boredom set in.

　　It is one of the most subtle and effective ruses of the "will to live" to lure man on and on, dangling before him hope, novelty or the gratification of pride. The allurement of "far horizons," the search for the unknown, has tempted many imaginative and adventurous minds; and those of a heroic mold it has urged to meet the vicissitudes of life as a challenge, appealing to their pride to rise above them. Only in the arahant, the liberated one, will such detachment in face of adversity be genuine and unshakable. Only he can truly say of himself that he has risen above the vicissitudes of existence; that his "mind is unshaken by the eight worldly events" (Maha-mangala Sutta): gain and loss, repute and disrepute, praise and blame, joy and woe. Being free from all three cravings, he is free of "both sides": the longing for life and the longing for death, the fear of life and the fear of death. He who has conquered craving has conquered all the worlds, the "here and the beyond." For craving is the triune Lord of all the Worlds, their creator, sustainer and destroyer; and he who is craving”s conqueror is also the true world conqueror.

　　 4. He who entirely blots out conceit

　　as the wind demolishes a fragile bamboo bridge,

　　— such a monk gives up the here and the beyond,

　　just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.

　　Human conceit is here compared with a fragile bamboo bridge. In countries of the East, such bridges often consist of just two or three bamboo poles, sometimes with a railing of the same material. On such bridges one has to be quite sure of one”s balance in order to safely cross a roaring mountain brook or a deep gorge. Human pride is just as fragile and shaky. It may easily be upset by a whiff of public opinion, hurt by any fool”s snide remark, hurled down deep by defeat, failure or misfortune.

　　Conceit has its roots in ego-belief, which may be either intellectually articulated or habitually and tacitly assumed. In return, conceit gives a very powerful support to ego-belief. It does not tolerate any doubt or challenge of what it prides itself on so much: the existence and the supreme value of that precious self. Any attempt to question its existence and its worth is regarded with as much violent resentment as a powerful ruler would exhibit if he were to be subjected to a body search at the border of his country.

　　The noun conceit derives from the verb conceiving.[11] It is, indeed, a conceited conception to conceive oneself superior to others. But also to …

《The Worn-out Skin Reflections on the Uraga Sutta》全文未完，请进入下页继续阅读…