The Tusker

Translated from the Pali by Thanissaro Bhikkhu.
Proofed against and modified in accordance with the revised edition at dhammatalks.org
Provenance, terms and conditons

[1][pts] "When elephants and cow-elephants and calf-elephants and baby elephants go ahead of a wilderness tusker foraging for food and break off the tips of the grasses, the wilderness tusker feels irritated, upset, and disgusted.

When elephants and cow-elephants and calf-elephants and baby elephants devour the wilderness tusker's bunches of branches, he feels irritated, upset, and disgusted.

When elephants and cow-elephants and calf-elephants and baby elephants go ahead of the wilderness tusker on his way down to his bath and stir up the mud in the water with their trunks, he feels irritated, upset, and disgusted.

When cow-elephants go along as the wilderness tusker is bathing and bang up against his body, he feels irritated, upset, and disgusted.

"Then the thought occurs to the wilderness tusker, 'I now live hemmed in by elephants and cow-elephants and calf-elephants and baby elephants.

I feed off grass with broken-off tips.

My bunches of branches are devoured.

I drink muddied water.

Even when I bathe, cow-elephants go along and bang up against my body.

What if I were to live alone, apart from the crowd?'

"So at a later time he lives alone, apart from the crowd.

He feeds off grass with unbroken tips.

His bunches of branches are undevoured.

He drinks unmuddied water.

When he bathes, cow-elephants don't go along and bang up against his body.

The thought occurs to him, 'Before, I lived hemmed in by elephants and cow-elephants and calf-elephants and baby elephants.

I fed off grass with broken-off tips.

My bunches of branches were devoured.

I drank muddied water.

Even when I bathed, cow-elephants would go along and bang up against my body.

But now I live alone, apart from the crowd.

I feed off grass with unbroken tips.

My bunches of branches are undevoured.

I drink unmuddied water.

When I bathe, cow-elephants don't go along and bang up against my body.' Breaking off a branch with his trunk and scratching his body with it, gratified, he allays his itch.

In the same way, when a monk lives hemmed in with monks, nuns, male and female lay followers, kings, royal ministers, sectarians, and their disciples, the thought occurs to him, 'I now live hemmed in by monks, nuns, male and female lay followers, kings, royal ministers, sectarians, and their disciples.

What if I were to live alone, apart from the crowd?'

"So he seeks out a secluded dwelling: a wilderness, the shade of a tree, a mountain, a glen, a hillside cave, a charnel ground, a forest grove, the open air, a heap of straw.

He, having gone to the wilderness, to the shade of a tree, or to an empty building, sits down, crosses his legs, holds his body erect, and brings mindfulness to the fore.

"Abandoning covetousness with regard to the world, he dwells with an awareness devoid of covetousness.

He cleanses his mind of covetousness.

Abandoning ill will and anger, he dwells with an awareness devoid of ill will, sympathetic with the welfare of all living beings.

He cleanses his mind of ill will and anger.

Abandoning sloth and drowsiness, he dwells with an awareness devoid of sloth and drowsiness, mindful, alert, percipient of light.

He cleanses his mind of sloth and drowsiness.

Abandoning restlessness and anxiety, he dwells undisturbed, his mind inwardly stilled.

He cleanses his mind of restlessness and anxiety.

Abandoning uncertainty, he dwells having crossed over uncertainty, with no perplexity with regard to skillful mental qualities.

He cleanses his mind of uncertainty.

"Having abandoned these five hindrances—corruptions of awareness that weaken discernment—then quite secluded from sensuality, secluded from unskillful qualities, he enters and remains in the first jhāna: rapture and pleasure born of seclusion, accompanied by directed thought and evaluation.