Parayana Vagga:An metaphysical analysis

The Message of the Pārāyaṇa-vagga 

The PV defines one main problem with the human condition: humanity is continuously attacked by a “flood” (ogha). This is a poetic expression for the conditioned and inevitable human movement toward death and decay. Human beings are weak and vulnerable in the face of birth, old age, and death, and their experience is heavily constricted by karma. Normally, in the context of Buddhist thought, this painful reality is thought to be part of an endless and beginning-less cycle of transmigration, yet there is no mention of such a comprehensive perspective in the text; the term saṃsāra is not used and there is no precise notion of transmigration. Remarkably, the Buddha says again and again in the PV that this intense pain can be healed by attentive awareness, wisdom, and control of passion. Moreover, one can fully alter the impending reality of death and rebirth through the correct use of attention. Thus, the central aim of the PV is to delineate a psychological solution to a metaphysical problem: old age and death will be vanquished by careful use of awareness. That Buddhism hopes for a psychological solution is not new. By this I mean that Buddhism believes that human pain can be cured by changing the dynamics of mind and perception. Yet the PV demonstrates that this solution is not to a psychological problem of suffering, but to a metaphysical reality of pain that is realized through death and rebirth. That is to say that man’s “problem” is “metaphysical” in the sense that it results from the very nature of existence: suffering is not personal but inherent in the conditioned reality of “the flood.”3 The crux of pain is in the afterlife and in the very fact that human beings live in a transient, conditioned, ephemeral world. The fact that the Buddha believes that he can remedy this situation through a sensitive application of attention is itself of metaphysical significance. We begin in the middle of the collection, with the question of Kappa:

1092 majjhe sarasmiṃ tiṭṭhatam oghe jāte mahabbhaye / jarāmaccuparetānaṃ dīpaṃ pabrūhi mārisa / tvaṃ ca me dīpaṃ akkhāhi yathayidaṃ nāparaṃ siyā // For those situated in the middle of a lake In which a terrifying wave (ogha) has arisen, Afflicted by old age and death— Point an island out to me, wise one, and explain it as it is So it may not recur.

 Although metaphorical, Kappa’s question is clear: beings suffer from old age and death; in this they are likened to people who are in the middle of a lake in which a great, ominous wave has arisen. The Buddha  knows where safety lies, which will provide a permanent cure so that the trouble will never return. He replies: 1094 akiñcanaṃ anādānaṃ etaṃ dīpaṃ anāparaṃ / nibbānaṃ iti naṃ brūmi jarāmaccuparikkhayaṃ // Being without a thing, without taking anything up, This is the island, and no other. I call it nibbāna, The complete extinction of old age and death.
 1095 etad aññāya ye satā diṭṭhadhammābhinibbutā / na te māravasānugā na te mārassa paddhagū’ti // Knowing this, the mindful have blown out, Having seen the truth directly. They do not go to Māra’s power; They are not his servants

. Nibbāna is clearly portrayed in these verses as the solving of the problem of “old age and death.” In fact, the Buddha says that nibbāna is only the word he uses to speak of the extinction of birth and death. Those who have attained this state are said to be freed from the grasp of Māra, the personified power of passion and death. This may be realized by those who are mindful, who have reached “the island” of having nothing. The next dialogue with Jatukaṇṇi continues these ideas. Jatukaṇṇi asks: 1096 sutvānahaṃ viraṃ akāmakāmiṃ oghātigaṃ puṭṭhum akāmaṃ āgamaṃ / santipadaṃ brūhi sahājanetta / yathātacchaṃ brūhi me taṃ // Having heard of the hero who has no desire for sense objects,  I have come to question him Who has no passion and has crossed the flood— Explain the quiet place, Oh Seer-of-innate-vision, explain it to me as it really is

1097 bhagavā hi kāme abhibhuyya iriyati / ādicco ‘va paṭhaviṃ teji tejasā / parittapaññassa me bhūripañña / ācikkha dhammaṃ yaṃ ahaṃ vijaññaṃ / jatijarāya idha vippahānaṃ // The lord goes about having vanquished desires, Like the sun lighting the earth with its brilliance. You of broad knowledge, show me of limited knowledge, The dhamma, the destruction of birth and old age, here, So I will know it


Jatukaṇṇi sees the Buddha as a man who has crossed the flood, who has defeated passion and is deeply knowledgeable. He asks for an explanation of how to destroy birth and old age here (idha), which he defines as the dhamma, the Buddha’s teaching. This statement is the clue to comprehending the whole of the PV’s message: one can destroy birth, old age, and death here, that is, within the psychological reality of this very life. Idha, “here,” is an important term used to characterize life in this world, as opposed to huraṃ, “there, in the other world.” With the inclusion of birth as part of the human predicament, we see that the Buddha and his interlocutors are concerned not only with the reality of death and decay, but also with forthcoming rebirth; we can therefore comfortably say that they are troubled by the prospects of repeated rebirth and transmigration. In his answer, the Buddha explains how this goal can be realized

1098 kāmesu vinaya gedhaṃ nekkhammaṃ daṭṭhu khemato / uggahītaṃ nirattaṃ vā mā te vijjittha kiñcanaṃ // Lead greed toward the passions to its end; Having seen renunciation as safety, There should not be anything you hold on to or reject

In order to quit birth and death, the Buddha recommends a strict psychological regimen: one should hold on to or reject nothing, having adopted the path of renunciation and relinquished all passions. He continues:

1099 yaṃ pubbe taṃ visosehi pacchā te mā ‘hu kiñcanaṃ / majjhe ce no gahessasi upasanto carissasi // Dry up all that is earlier; let there be nothing for you later; If you will not hold on to anything in between, You will go about in peace.

Similar instructions appear in other places in the SN. They guide the practitioner not to grasp at anything present, past, or future and may be read as a more specific meditative training. One is to remain focused in the present moment, but with no valorization of it as more true than the past and the future—it, too, is not to be grasped at.

Notice the subtle over-play of meaning here, which gently alludes to the malady of birth-and-death for which the Buddha is offering a cure. Indeed, when reading these verses from the PV we must keep in mind that we are dealing with poetry and that the verses often generate multiple layers of meaning. The verse first instructs the student to renounce anything earlier or later. This should be read as referring also to earlier and later rebirths, so that the practitioner is situated “in the middle” (majjhe), that is, in this very moment and in this very rebirth. The correct cognitive stance in relation to the events that take place “in between” allows one to attain a deeper freedom not only in relation to the past and future in this life, but also in respect to the reality of transmigration. In this verse, one is instructed to “dry up” (visosehi) past things (pubbe). This may be thought to resonate with the ideal of “extinguishing” or “drying up” the “inflows,” the āsava, the conditioning streams of past experience that carry its determining influence into the present and future. “Drying up” or “destroying” the “inflows” is equal to liberation, according to the central theories of liberation in the Nikāyas. The extinction of the āsavas is, in fact, referred to in the next, final verse of the poem

1100 sabbaso nāmarūpasmiṃ vītagedhassa brāhmaṇa / āsavā ‘ssa na vijjanti yehi maccuvasaṃ vaje’ti // Brahmin, for him who is thoroughly devoid of greed In relation to name and form, There are no inflows by which He may turn to the power of death.

Whatever the precise relation between the destruction of “inflows” here and in the prose Nikāyas, the claim here is unambiguous—one who has no more greed (in relation to “name and form”) is freed from the power of death; the man who re-configures his mind to go thoroughly beyond passion surpasses death. This confirms that the practice outlined in the previous verse to be unattached to past, present, and future, was designed to allow one to cope with the reality of transmigration. We may question what precisely the author of these verses had in mind when he spoke of “destroying birth and old age here.” He could have intended that one is no longer troubled by death, in a personal or existential sense. He may also have thought that one who reaches this attainment will move on from this life to a wonderful, painless destination of sheer beatitude. Or, he may have had a negative notion in mind regarding the end of transmigration in the relief of annihilation. Possibly he contemplated some or all of these options combined or an inconceivable reality beyond them. What is primary for us is to grasp what one is liberated from—death and transmigration are obviously the main concern. In this respect, we should mark the conception of the āsava as what makes one “turn to the power of death.” Inflows are produced through action motivated by greed and have the power to impel one to continue in the rounds of transmigration. Relinquishing this influence is liberation

The dialogues with Kappa and Jatukaṇṇi helped define the main logic of the PV —one amends the pains of death and rebirth through a correct direction of attention. Let us now return to the earlier sections of the poem and see how this theme is developed. The first question to the Buddha is submitted by Ajita, who speaks metaphorically

1032 kenassu nivuto loko kenassu nappakāsati / kissābhilepanaṃ brūsi kiṃ su tassa mahabbhayaṃ // What envelops the world? Because of what does it not shine? Tell me what are its pollution and terror? The question is poetic, the Buddha’s answer more concrete: 1033 avijjāya nivuto loko vevicchā pamādā nappakāsati / jappābhilepanaṃ brūmi dukkhaṃ assa mahabbhayaṃ // The world is enveloped by ignorance; Because of avarice and negligence it does not shine; I say it is polluted by chatter; Pain is its great terror. The opening of the poem has a metaphysical air, yet the obscurations the Buddha defines are psychological or behavioral; these are subjective attitudes we are all familiar with, such as negligence and “chatter,” although we probably have limited understanding regarding the subjective structures the Buddha defined as “ignorance.” Ajita’s next question is more enigmatic: 1034 savanti sabbadhī sotā sotānaṃ kiṃ nivāraṇaṃ / sotānaṃ saṃvaraṃ brūhi kena sotā pithiyyare // The torrents flow everywhere—what is their hindrance? Explain to me the restraint of these torrents— By what are they obstructed? Here we inevitably wonder what a “torrent” or a stream (sota) is; this may, however, be a poetic expression with no definite, pinpoint meaning. “Torrents,” perhaps, cannot be reduced to a controllable, easily identifiable, psychological function. It is also hard to decide whether they relate to conditioning that originated prior to this life. The question thus suggests meanings that refer both to personal, phenomenological reality and to a more metaphysical notion of conditioning concerned with transmigration. Once again the Buddha’s answer is impressive in its psychological precision:
 yāni sotāni lokasmiṃ sati tesaṃ nivāraṇaṃ / sotānaṃ saṃvaraṃ brūmi paññāy’etepi pithiyyare // Those torrents in the world— Mindfulness14 is their hindrance. I explain the restraint of the torrents— They are obstructed by wisdom.
Correct employment of attention and of understanding will allow one to dam the flood. This is a powerful attestation to the concrete, psychological inclination of the text. Yet we have seen that the psychological orientation of the PV is couched in a mature metaphysical framework, which positions the personal, subjective, psychological effort toward freedom in relation to the reality of human decay and death. This predicament was no more than hinted at by the image of the streaming torrents in Ajita’s questions; one could read them as saying nothing beyond the psychological. In dexterous poetic technique, the metaphysical will be gradually teased out as the poem develops. As we have seen in the questions posed by Jatukaṇṇi, the images of the flood, torrents, and turbulent streams are explicitly related to the suffering involved in death and rebirth. The next student who approaches the Buddha is Tissa Metteyya. The dense question he submits and the answer he receives repeat the themes we have seen so far, but still only with implicit reference to the afterlife: 1040 ko ‘dha santusito loke kassa no santi iñjitā / ko ubhantam abhiññāya majjhe mantā na lippati / kaṃ brūsi mahāpuriso’ti ko idha sibbanim accagā // Who is content here in the world? For whom are there no vacillations? Who is the man of truth (mantā), who having known both extremes Is situated in the middle, without becoming stained? Tell me who you call a great man And who, here, has gone beyond the seams? Again the expression is poetic and suggestive, and we cannot show conclusively that the “seams” are those between this life and the next, or that being “in the middle having known both extremes” is an achievement in relation to the previous life and the future one. Nonetheless, these readings are part of the associations that these verses and similar ones like them raise. See, for example, the following from the AV : 801 yassūbhayante paṇidhīdha n’atthi bhavābhavāya idha vā huraṃ vā / nivesanā tassa na santi keci dhammesu niccheyya samuggahītā //  He who has no aspiration here in relation to the two extremes, Toward states of being and non-being, this life and beyond— For him there are no abodes he grasps at, Having reached determination in relation to things. The extremes one is to avoid relate to rebirth—they are “states of being and non-being” (bhavābhava) that one may aspire to in this life or the next (idha vā huraṃ vā). Rebirth is also hinted at by the allusion to relinquishing grasping at “abodes” (nivesanā). In light of this verse, Tissa Metteya’s question appears to relate to the overcoming of rebirth. Once again, the Buddha’s answer emphasizes overcoming passion, being always mindful and understanding: 1041 kāmesu brahmacariyavā vītataṇho sadā sato / saṃkhāya nibbuto bhikkhu tassa no santi iñjitā // The monk who practices renunciation of desires, Who has no passion, always mindful, Who is quiet, having understood— For him there are no vacillations. If we had begun reading the poem from the start and read only this far, we might have felt that the idea of rebirth was too implicit to be defined as the main concern of the text. This begins to change in the third exchange between Buddha and Puṇṇaka, who inquires into the merits of Brahmanic sacrifice, only to be told by the Buddha that “those seers, men, rulers, and Brahmins who each performed the sacrifice to the gods here in this world were hoping for existence here (itthabhāva); they performed the sacrifice holding on to old age.”15 This polemical, sarcastic answer drives Puṇṇaka to ask directly whether these heroes who were “attentive to the path of sacrifice, crossed beyond birth and old age?”16 Naturally, the Buddha’s answer is negative, and he offers his own, mature characterization of the people who have crossed beyond the painful reality of human decline. His evaluation of the true sage in this case is full of pun: 1048 saṃkhāya lokasmiṃ parovarāni yass’iñjitaṃ nathi kuhiṃci loke / santo vidhūmo anigho nirāso atāri so jātijaraṃ’ti brūmī’ti // He for whom, having understood high and low, There are no vacillations anywhere in the world, Quiet, “smokeless,” passionless, having no wishes; Him I call one who has crossed birth and old age. By now the theme of rebirth and “crossing birth and old age” has risen to the surface. The poem presents Indian religion of the day as a search for a method to end “birth and old age.” Only the Buddha offers a true solution, through his change of focus  from brahmanical sacrifice to psychological transformation and a controlled, renunciate regimen. This calm is untroubled by the smoke of sacrifice. The discussion with the next student, Mettagū, is one of the more vivid exemplifications of our theme in the PV. Mettagū raises a question regarding what is the origin of “these diverse types of pain that have arisen in this world?”17 The Buddha explains that they are “conditioned by possessions” (upadhi-nidāna); “possessions” is used here in a strong sense—anything one sees himself as possessing, such as a body, mind, and so forth, are the things he “places near” (upa) and appropriates, thereby investing them with the psychic energy that will condition rebirth. Upadhi is the “burning material” by which the fire of cyclic existence is kept ablaze.18 The Buddha elaborates: 1051 yo ve avidvā upadhiṃ karoti punappunaṃ dukkham upeti mando / tasmā hi jānaṃ upadhiṃ na kayirā dukkhassa jātippabhavānupassī // The ignorant fool creates possessions And heads toward suffering time and again. Therefore, the man of understanding, Who sees the generation of birth as suffering,19 Should not make possessions. One who lacks understanding will create more and more “possessions,” which will direct him toward further suffering, which itself is to be experienced mainly in future lives. People are reborn in direct relation to their upadhis—what one takes for oneself or as one’s self. The relation between maintaining upadhis and rebirth is raised in the second half of the verse by speaking of suffering as that which is created “time and again” (punappunaṃ) and by saying that the wise “see the generation of birth as suffering”; the wordplay suggests that birth (jāti) and coming into being (pabhava) are, indeed, suffering. Mettagū now asks—“How do the wise cross the flood, birth and old age, pain and distress?” (kathaṃ nu dhīro vitaranti oghaṃ jātijaraṃ sokapariddavaṃ ca). Note the equation of “birth and old age,” that is, transmigration, with pain and especially with “the flood.” The Buddha replies: 1053 kittayissāmi te dhammaṃ diṭṭhe dhamme anītihaṃ / yaṃ viditvā sato caraṃ tare loke visattikaṃ // I shall proclaim the dhamma to you, Which I have realized myself, not from hearsay— He who goes about mindful, having understood it, Will cross grasping at the world. We may mark another synonym for the “flood” of transmigration—one should hope to cross “grasping at the world.” The Buddha elaborates:  1055 yaṃ kiñci saṃpajānāsi uddhaṃ addho tiriyaṃ cāpi majjhe / etesu nandiṃ ca nivesanaṃ ca panujja viññāṇaṃ bhave na tiṭṭhe // Anything you are aware of— Above, below, across, or in between— Having dispelled all investment in these things and pleasure toward them, Consciousness will no longer be situated in existence. 1056 evaṃ vihārī sato appamatto bhikkhu caraṃ hitvā mamāyitāni / jātijaraṃ sokapriddavaṃ ca idheva vidvā pajaheyya dukkhaṃ // Abiding in this way, mindful, aware, The monk who goes about Having relinquished anything “mine” Will destroy the pain of birth and old age, of sorrow and distress, Here, knowing, in this very life.20 I avoid a discussion of the soteriological significance of this statement so that we may concentrate on what is of primary importance for our analysis.21 Here the text is straightforward and unambiguous: the sensitive application of attention will bring one to the far shore of suffering, which itself consists in the inevitability of repetitive birth and old age. This end can be reached in this very life, through a psychological transformation. This interpretation is confirmed by the ending statement to Mettagū, in which the Buddha says that “the Brahmin who is identified as possessing understanding, who has nothing, and who does not grasp at states of desire” has at the same time “crossed the flood, crossed beyond” and “crossed old age and death.”22 Some of the poems we have seen do not express the idea of bringing about a psychological solution to a metaphysical problem as strongly as others. In the next exchange, with Dhotaka, no direct allusion is made to rebirth or transmigration. The poem does, however, relate to the theme of “the flood,” reiterates the concern with “crossing beyond grasping in relation to the world,” and relates this act of grasping to “desire toward states of existence and non-existence.” It thus would not be unfair to take the Dhotaka poem to reiterate the themes of the one with Mettagū; in fact, the former appears to be modeled on the latter.23 The same themes are important also to the discussions with Hemaka and Todeyya.24 The discussion the Buddha conducts with Bhadravuddha, Mogharāja, and Piṅgiya vividly echoes the central themes we have delineated and are very similar to the first texts we analyzed with Kappa and Jatukaṇṇi. The discussions with Upasīva (see in the following section) and Nanda are clearly concerned with the “problem of death.” Only two series of questions and answers, the ones with Udaya and Posāla, do not seem to relate to our theme. Nonetheless, given the overwhelming majority of texts in the collection that do so overtly, they should also probably be thought to frame their discussion with this understanding in the background.
 The poems of the PV obviously do not need to be taken as the expression of one unified, fully coherent and cohesive philosophical position. Their central trend is that correct use of awareness—through attention, lack of passion, and wisdom—can free one from the pain of being born and passing away. Yet this message is appropriated in different ways by different students, and each interlocutor focuses on a particular aspect of the Buddha’s message. Nanda, for example, is more interested in the noview and no-reliance position that is popular in the poems of the AV. Udaya and Posāla apparently practice specific types of jhānic meditation, as discussed by Wynne (2007; see below). We can see that the philosophical position serves as an orientation, a pattern of thought, or an ideational climate in relation to which each student finds space to define himself and his practice. To summarize this section, let us observe the final poem of the PV, the set of questions and answers that the Buddha conducts with Piṅgiya. Piṅgiya, too, hopes to bring about a psychological transformation that will remedy his upcoming reality of death and rebirth: he says that he is old and worn out, but still confused and unpurified; he is afraid that he will perish while still in confusion (mumoha). He asks for instruction in words we have already seen: “Explain the dhamma, so I will know it, the destruction of birth and old age, here” (acakkhi dhammaṃ yam ahaṃ vijaññaṃ jātijarāya idha vippahānaṃ). The Buddha’s answer is a potent encapsulation of all we have seen so far: 1121 disvāna rūpesu vihaññamāne ruppanti rūpesu janā pamattā / tasmā tuvaṃ piṅgiya appamatto jahassu rūpaṃ apunabbhavāya // Observing forms, struck by them, Negligent people are oppressed in relation to them. Therefore, Piṅgiya, being attentive, Relinquish form for the sake of no more rebirth. Attention allows one to relinquish “form” so that she will not be reborn again; a correct mental stance will cure the miseries involved in rebirth. Piṅgiya now hails the Buddha as the knower of all worlds and repeats: “Explain the dhamma, so I will know it, the destruction of birth and old age, here.” The Buddha replies: 1123 taṇhādhipanne manuje pekkhamāno santāpajāte jarasā parete / tasmā tuvaṃ piṅgiya appamatto jahassu taṇham apunabbhavāya // see people controlled by desire, burning, afflicted by old age. Therefore, Piṅgiya, being attentive, Relinquish craving for the sake of no more rebirth. The Buddha’s response is lucid: thanks to inattention and desire, people suffer and burn through birth, rebirth, and old age. There is one cure for this misery: attention. In the following section we will observe the expression of this theme in the more complicated poem with Upasīva. 
Formless Meditation in the PV 
There exists only one study that devotes focal attention to the PV, The Origin of Buddhist Meditation by Alexander Wynne (2007).25 It is therefore pertinent to discuss Wynne’s reading and synthesis, especially with regard to his treatment of the dialogue with Upasīva, which he sees as the heart of his contribution and reads in a way that works against the interpretation I offer here. Here I will show that this dialogue fits well with the theme of solving the problem of rebirth through psychological effort. In fact, this happens to be one of the most interesting dialogues in the collection in this respect, which enhances its depth and complexity. Wynne develops a unique perspective on early Buddhist meditative practice in light of three dialogues from the PV, which he places in the broad perspective of ancient Indian Yoga. He suggests that the Buddha’s exchanges with Upasīva, Udaya, and Posāla expound a meditative technique that focuses on the “formless attainment” (arūpya-samāpatti) of “nothingness” (ākiñcañña, commonly called “the base of nothingness,” ākiñcaññāyatana).26 Wynne connects the instruction to Upasīva and the teachings of Aḷāra Kālāma, the purported teacher of the Buddha prior to his enlightenment, according to the Ariyapariyesanā-sutta of the Majjhima Nikāya, under whose tutelage the Buddha-to-be reached this attainment. Wynne identifies in the PV a reworking of the meditative attainment of ākiñcañña, so that the Buddha develops the Indian meditation theory of his day by taking liberation to maintain a degree of awareness during the deep meditative state of “nothingness,” which was earlier considered beyond awareness. This is an intriguing suggestion that is worthy of consideration as a reflection of early Buddhist meditative culture. Nonetheless, there are undeniable problems with Wynne’s approach and especially with his reading of the dialogue with Upasīva. One concern regarding his overall position is why, if the Ariyapariyesanā-sutta is taken as the main map of the Buddha’s path to enlightenment, the more sophisticated and profound meditative attainment of “the base beyond perception and non-perception” (nevasaññānāsaññāyatana), which the Buddha gained under Uddaka Rāmaputta, is ignored by the authors of the PV. Another problem is Wynne’s confabulation of literary and historical reality: he reads the dialogues of the PV as transcriptions of real discussions between the Buddha and his students.27 Finally, it is unclear whether this discourse is concerned with the attainment of the same state of nothingness referred to in the prose Nikāyas, as Wynne and the traditional commentators on the text believe. Most notable from our point of view is that the dialogue between Upasīva and the Buddha is most easily and straightforwardly taken as an example of the reading I advance here. At the heart of the PV is the position that a strict regimen of conscious effort and dedicated personal commitment can solve the problem of repeated death and rebirth and bring one to the most meaningful peaks of existence. Indeed, this discourse may be seen as one of the most intriguing expressions of this idea in that it connects meditative attainments and results in the afterlife. The opening question posed by Upasīva recalls others we have seen: 

 1069 eko ahaṃ sakka mahantam oghaṃ anissito no visahāmi tārituṃ / ārammaṇaṃ brūhi samantacakkhu yaṃ nissito oghaṃ imaṃ tareyya // Alone, Sakya, with nothing to rely on, I am unable to cross the great flood. You of comprehensive vision—describe an object I may rely on in order to cross this flood. Upasīva knows that reality is a flood and has even made an attempt to cross it. He feels, though, that he has had no real success and asks the Buddha for specific instruction, for an ārammaṇa, a meditative object that he may focus on that will serve as his raft. The Buddha offers this: 1070 ākiñcaññaṃ pekkhamāno satīmā n’atthīti nissāya tarrasu oghaṃ / kāme pahāya virato kathāhi taṇhakkhayaṃ nattamahābhipassa // Viewing nothingness, mindful, Relying on “(this) does not exist,” Cross the flood. Having let go of desires, Refraining from discussions, Observe the destruction of craving night and day. I agree with Wynne that this is a meditative instruction, even a specific and relatively clear one. The Buddha provides his student with the meditative support (ārammaṇa) of nothingness, which he is to observe continuously. Aware that nothing is real or worth his interest, he should harbor no desire and turn from idle chatter; maintaining this attitude, he should attentively and continuously observe the destruction of craving. This is not the same instruction that the Buddha gave to his other students in the PV, but is easily related to it. Perhaps it can be taken as an intensified version of the same practices of cultivating mindfulness, dispassion, and wisdom. Wynne, together with the classical commentaries on the texts, sees the allusion to ākiñcañña28—“nothingness”—as a reference to the meditative state of “(the base of) nothingness.” This is certainly a possible reading for this term, although a direct link between it and the traditional lists of samādhi states may be too strong. Wynne himself is suspicious of the identification between “nothingness” here and the seventh state in the canonical list of nine samādhi states that begins with the four jhānas, proceeds through the four ārūpya attainments, and culminates with nirodha (“cessation”). Reading the precise words of the verse generates mixed results: natthīti nissāya—relying on “(this) does not exist”—may be seen as parallel to natthi kiṃcīti—“there is nothing”—which is part of the common description of the entrance into the base of nothingness in the prose Nikāyas;29 “having let go of desires” (kāme pahāya) and especially “uninterested in talk” (virato kathāhi) are, however, irrelevant to practice at this advanced stage. Another question is whether “nothingness”—ākiñcañña (long ā)—in this discourse and in the one with Posāla, should be robustly distinguished from the envisioning of “nothing”—akiñcañña
(short a)—that is a prominent concept in the PV and that does not necessarily relate to a specific meditative technique or attainment.30 There are still other instructions in the text that resonate with the advice to reflect on and hold on to nothing, none of which demand the assumption of a meditative practice in the background, let alone of a deep samādhi like ākiñcaññāyatana.31 It is also interesting to notice that the opening verse of the PV (976) presents the Brahmin Bāvarī as “searching for nothingness” (ākiñcaññaṃ patthayāno) in a way that probably does not reflect the attainment of “the base of ākiñcañña.” These considerations are not conclusive but they raise doubt regarding the direct identification between “nothingness” in the discourses with Upasīva and Posāla and the “state of nothingness” described in places such as the Ariyapariyesanā-sutta. Wynne’s interpretation should be taken seriously, but it should also be related to the overall picture developed in the PV —if these verses relate to the meditative state of “nothingness,” this attainment is apparently considered an extension of the more regular instruction not to hold on to anything. Most importantly, a reliable reading of the teaching to Upasīva demonstrates a vivid interest in reaching a conscious state that by its very nature will put an end to birth and death. It is at this point that my interpretation differs most significantly from Wynne’s, who argues that the Buddha makes no point regarding the afterlife. The concern with rebirth is evident in Upasī­ va’s next question: 1071 sabbesu kāmesu yo vītarāgo ākiñcaññaṃ nissito hitvamaññaṃ / saññāvimokkhe parame vimutto tiṭṭhe nu so tattha anānuyāyī // He who has no passion in relation to all pleasures, Who relies on nothingness, having discarded (everything) else, Liberated in the highest liberation from perception— Does he remain that way without proceeding? Upasīva seems to be aware of the logic advanced by the Buddha in the PV —he knows that dense, committed direction of attention is meant to solve the problem of death and rebirth. Upasīva, who has been provided with a meditative technique as a raft to cross the flood, now asks what will happen to one who perfects his practice—will he proceed anywhere or remain in the state he is in? What will he achieve and where will he go? Upasīva, like other interlocutors in the text, asks for details about the reality he can expect after he dies. Wynne, however, sees this verse as another expression of the observation that one carries out in the state of nothingness. First, like other translators32 and together with the commentators, he takes hitva-m-aññaṃ—“having discarded (everything) else”—as relating to the earlier stages of jhāna practice. This reading in itself is not implausible. He then follows surprisingly close upon the heels of the commentators and takes the Buddha to say that the adept is now “concentrated (Wynne reads adhimutto for vimutto33) in the highest meditative release of perception” (saññā-vimokkhe), intending that this is the highest meditative absorption in which perception still functions. This is an unconvincing reading that makes inconsistent use of the voice of the commentators, adopting their position regarding ākiñcañña being the highest liberative state in which perception still functions, but rejecting their conventionalized list of the nine successive samādhi states. Wynne then takes anānuyāyī not as referring to one who “does not proceed” but to one who “does not follow,” in the sense that he pays no attention to, other meditative states. This last reading is problematic since the meaning “to follow” comes from the root , “to go, move, proceed” and not from “to follow” in the sense of applying attention. The inquiry thus must be whether one who accomplishes this practice continues to any future destiny. The Buddha’s answer reiterates the words of the question in order to say that one who is liberated in this way proceeds no further, that is, that he quits rebirth.  Upasīva understands this and proceeds to ask for more detail:
1073 tiṭṭhe ce so tattha anānuyāyī pūgaṃpi vassānaṃ samantacakkhu / tatth’eva so sītisiyā vimutto cavetha viññāṇaṃ tathāvidhassa //
And if, you of comprehensive vision, he remains in this way Without proceeding, for a great many years, Would he right there become cool and be liberated [and] would consciousness fall away for him here, in such a state?

Upasīva asks whether one who does not proceed may remain in this state for many years, whether he “becomes cool” and if his consciousness “will fall away.” These are complex questions we cannot analyze here; surely there are ideals at work in these verses that see liberation as an abysmal quiet, which one may even maintain for centuries, or, in the words of the commentaries, for hundreds of thousands of aeons. For our concerns, it will suffice to notice that Upasīva is asking about the afterlife results of correct practice and that he has in mind particular images regarding the nature of this reality. The Buddha’s response strives for closure, as he explains that no more answers can be supplied at this stage, apparently since thought cannot capture the true solution. He says: 
1074 accī yathā vātavegena khitto atthaṃ paleti na upeti saṃkhaṃ / evaṃ munī nāmakāyā vimutto atthaṃ paleti na upeti saṃkhaṃ // Like a flame upset by the wind, Which returns to its source and cannot be measured, So, too, the sage who is released from name and body Returns to the source and cannot be measured.

There are two central conceptual elements operating at this stage of the dialogue. One is the question regarding the nature of the realized being after death. The second is the position that language is limited and cannot describe one’s aftermath. The problem is how these two points are related: it is one thing if the state of the realized being after death is known but impossible to describe; it is quite another if any discussion of one’s nature is absurd in the first place. Wynne is committed to the second of these options. His focus is not on the nature of language,41 but on the claim that liberation occurs during life. He aims to show that Upasīva’s question in the previous verse was whether the attainment of nothingness is an anticipation of a state that will be reached in the afterlife, while the Buddha insists that liberation relates only to this life. He argues this through a complex treatment of the term “becoming cool” (sītisiyā), which leads Upasīva to assume that liberation is to be attained upon death, while the Buddha understands the same term to refer to liberation in life.42 For Wynne, the claim that the sage “cannot be measured” ends up being equal to the Buddha saying that no one can know anything about the state a realized person attains in the afterlife. There is, however, a preferable understanding of the Buddha’s response, which is that words cannot capture the state that realized people attain when they die. The Buddha is not avoiding a response, but rather there is positive content to his claim, which is that there is a specific reality one reaches that cannot be conveyed through available thought structures; the Buddha knows what his postmortem reality will be like, but he considers inadequate the theoretical definitions that Upasīva suggests. The sage who has attained realization is “beyond consideration” (na upeti saṃkham) and has “returned to the source” or “gone home” (atthaṃ paleti). Whatever this “source” or “home” may be is probably best interpreted in light of the simile of the fire introduced by the Buddha—the state of an extinguished fire cannot be grasped with words; the same is true of the nature of the sage after death. In the penultimate verse Upasīva again asks if the sage has “gone to the source, or does he not exist, or is he rather beyond disease forever?” The Buddha’s reply echoes his previous one
1076 atthaṃ gatassa na pamāṇam atthi yena naṃ vajju taṃ tassa natthi / sabbesu dhammesu samūhatesu samūhatā vādapathā’pi sabbe’ti // For one who has gone to the source, There is no measure, there is nothing By which he may be known. All things being abolished, Abolished are the paths of speech as well.

The idea here and in the previous verse is that one cannot describe the reality attained by the realized after they die. When the Buddha says that the sage cannot be known or that the paths of speech are abolished he has a specific philosophy in mind: if one holds on to nothing, he or she will, after death, be beyond all things. The Buddha is not saying that no one knows what happens after death, but that regarding those who have stopped all grasping there is nothing that defines them and therefore no term applies to them, especially after death. This statement is rooted in a metaphysic that connects one’s present and afterlife states. The adept has entered into himself so deeply that he cannot be described through objective standards. What he is, and especially what will be the future outcomes of his present state of being, is beyond the cognitive grasp of regular people whose understanding consists of meanings generated by words. As Wynne acknowledges, the discussion here has a strong textual parallel in the Aggivacchagotta-sutta of the Majjhima Nikāya, where the Buddha introduces the simile of the fire in order to answer the mendicant Vacchagotta’s inquiry regarding what happens to the awakened being after he dies. In this more elaborate text, Vacchagotta asks where the realized monk is born (upapajjati) after death.43 This question follows the Buddha’s responses to the ten “unanswered questions,” which end with a focus on the issue of whether after the Buddha passes away he “comes to be (or, exists, hoti ), does not come to be, both, or neither.”44 Vacchagotta wonders how it can be that the Buddha denies all four possibilities, and the Buddha says that they all “do not apply” (na upeti). Here he introduces the simile of the fire in order to point to the nature of the sage after death, who cannot be described in terms of existence or non-existence. Like the fire that has consumed its burning material and cannot be thought to have proceeded in any of the cardinal directions, the sage has consumed all his burning material, that is his grasping at the aggregates, and cannot be said to arise or not to arise. Now the Buddha says that for the Tathāgata the five aggregates are forsaken, and therefore that they will fade away after he dies so that there remains nothing that can propel his rebirth

That form, Vaccha, by which the Tathāgata is known or may be known, for the Tathāgata is forsaken, its root severed, made like an uprooted palm tree, [is] eradicated with no future arising. The Tathāgata, Vaccha, liberated from being understood in terms of form, is deep, unfathomable, and difficult to penetrate, like the ocean—“to be reborn” does not apply; “not to be reborn” does not apply; “to be reborn and not to be reborn” does not apply; “not to be reborn and not to not be reborn” does not apply

It is important to notice that the position the Buddha advocates only has meaning if the metaphysics of karma are implied: he assumes that rebirth is conditioned by one’s acts of grasping. Specifically, the Buddha is attempting to explain why it is mistaken to say that the adept is reborn or not reborn, rather than to make a point regarding the unreliability of language. It is not that he does not know the answer to Vacchagotta’s questions, but that such an answer cannot be supplied with words.47 This reading of the Aggivacchagotta-sutta suggests that in the PV, Buddha is telling Upasīva that there are important consequences for realization that occur after one dies, but that these cannot be grasped through conceptual discussion. This means that reaching the formless attainment of ākiñcañña, or another practice of cultivating “nothingness,” creates an opportunity to deal with the painful reality of repeated birth and death. The Upasīva dialogue offers an interesting perspective on the central concern of the PV, saying that the mental stance that will have a permanent impact on the reality of transmigration should be cultivated in states of deep meditation. Regarding Wynne’s overall thesis, his suggestion that the Buddha remodeled central traditions of meditation of his day, is highly compelling. His attempt to define the Buddha’s teaching as pointing to liberation that is to be experienced only in the present life is, however, far less convincing. He may or may not be right that Upasīva is instructed to pursue the state of “nothingness,” but this achievement relates to the central theme of the PV that aims to overcome the flood of conditioning and rebirth through the cultivation of a specific psychological state. Deep mediation is one form of a psychological solution to a metaphysical problem