The Buddha's Story

by Chris Matheson

  Pitchstone Publishing

  Durham, North Carolina

  www.pitchstonebooks.com

  Copyright © 2020 by Chris Matheson

  All rights reserved

  Printed in the USA

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Matheson, Chris, author.

  Title: The Buddha’s story / Chris Matheson.

  Description: Durham, North Carolina : Pitchstone Publishing, [2020] | Summary: “A humorous take on the life of Siddhartha Gautama, imagined as an autobiography written by him, spanning from his birth to his eventual so-called extinction”—Provided by publisher.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2019054124 (print) | LCCN 2019054125 (ebook) | ISBN 9781634312004 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781634312011 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Gautama Buddha—Fiction. | Monks—India—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PS3613.A8262 B83 2020 (print) | LCC PS3613.A8262 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019054124

  LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019054125

  “Your Holiness, tell me, what role does Jesus Christ play in your Muslim religion?”

  —Larry King, in a rather awkward interview with the 14th Dalai Lama, a living Buddha of compassion

  “I’m sorry, but could you please repeat the question?”

  —The 14th Dalai Lama

  * The much-hyped interview was broadcast live on December 31, 1999 as part of CNN’s Millennium 2000 primetime coverage. Although the exchange was watched by millions, neither the full video nor the official transcript has ever been posted online—almost as if the entire interview is meant to be completely forgotten. Thus, as with the life of Siddhartha himself, the exact truth about the interview that night may be lost to history. Yet, the story of it lives on as legend.

  Abbreviations

  KSJAT—King Shibi Jataka

  AVDS—Avadanasataka

  NK—Nidanakatha

  SV—Sangityavamsa

  ASV—Asvaghosha

  KDS—Kinh Duoc Su

  MJ—Majjhima Nikaya

  GV—Gandavyuha

  ACC—Acchariya-abhutta Sutra

  MHP—Mahapadana Sutra

  ATT—Atthakavagga

  LV—Lalitavistara Sutra

  IDD—Iddhipada-vibanga Sutra

  DP—Dhammapada

  RH—Rhinoceros Horn Sutra

  ITI—Itivattaka

  AP—Ariyapariyesana Sutra

  SK—Sukhavativyuha Sutra

  SAL—Saleyyana Sutra

  MH—Mahasaccaka Sutra

  SY—Samyutta Nikaya

  HJAT—Hare Jataka

  ANG—Anguttara Nikaya

  MV—Mahavagga

  DCP—Dhammacakkappavattana Sutra

  DG—Digha Nikaya

  SP—Satipatthana Sutra

  PP—Padopama Sutra

  TV—Theravada Vinaya

  VK—Vimalikirti Sutra

  TGG—Tathagatagharba Sutra

  OJO—Ojoyoshu

  SZJ—Sishier Zhang Jing

  ILL—Illumination of the Five Realms

  LSV—Larger Sukhavativyuha

  PV—Petavatthu

  SH—Shurangama Sutra

  AGG—Agganna Sutra

  SDS—Saddhamasmrtyupasthana Sutra

  DFMHG—Deliverance from Flaming Mouth Hungry Ghost Sutra

  SOA—Sermon on Abuse

  MHD—Mahadukkhakhanda Sutra

  GPJAT—Golden Peacock Jataka

  MGD—Magandiya Sutra

  GTJAT—Goblin Town Jataka

  PP—Parajika Pei

  IOU—Inquiry of Ugra

  CV—Cullavagga

  MSV—Mulasarvastivada Sutra

  BL—Bimba’s Lament

  FCJAT—Fairy Canda Jataka

  NKV—Nandakovada Sutra

  RUJAT—Rupyavati Jataka

  RAH—Rahulovada Sutra

  VSJA—Vessantara Jataka

  MUS—Parable of the Mustard Seed

  THR—Therigatha

  CMJAT—Crocodile and Monkey Jataka

  MCJAT—Marsh Crow Jataka

  UD—Udana

  JBJAT—Jackal Beware Jataka

  SYEJAT—Sixty Year Old Elephant Jataka

  JTMKJAT—Jolly the Monkey King Jataka

  OEJAT—Obedient Elephant Jataka

  NKR—Nihon Ryoi Ki

  SDI—Sanghadisesa

  CCJAT—Compassionate Captain Jataka

  MPB—Mahaparinibbana Sutra

  LOT—Lotus Sutra

  CSG—Chan School Gonyan

  PMKS—Phra Malai Klon Suat

  NBS—Nembutsu Shu

  BA—Buddha Amitayus

  SSV—Smaller Sukhavativyuha

  WTJAT—Wishing Tree Jataka

  LJJAT—Lion and Jackal Jataka

  BYJAT—Brahmin Youth Jataka

  Part 1: Beginning

  1

  I am the Buddha and this is my story.

  To begin with, I want to give you an idea of the greatness of my essential nature. In one of my many previous lifetimes, I was a king named Shibi. As King Shibi, I was so brimming over with compassion that merely in order to feed a bird (a pigeon to be precise) I cut off all of my own flesh, thereby becoming a skeleton. I remember slicing all my flesh away, then standing proudly and proclaiming, “I sacrifice my body not for treasure but for enlightenment, in order that I may save all living beings!” At that point, I recited a kind of a poem, which went something like this:

  Dragons and demons and gods and ghosts

  I am a hero and that is no boast

  Singers and dancers and ogres and fools

  You should be like me and follow my rules.

  I did not mean, quite obviously, that gods, ghosts, etc. should all be talking skeletons like me. Rather, what I meant was that they should all wish to be motivated by pure, selfless compassion like I was. In heaven, the gods were so impressed by my sacrifice that they cheered enthusiastically. “Bravo!” they all cried. “BRAVO FOR THE TALKING SKELETON!” After that, it rained flowers on my bones, which was nice. (KSJAT.)

  Here is another example of how noble I was in a previous lifetime: As King Padmaka, I was a good and loving ruler who cared tenderly for his dear subjects. When a deadly plague struck my kingdom and it turned out that the only thing that could possibly save my people was the flesh of an extremely rare fish known as the Rohita, I instantly decided to kill myself and be reborn as that fish in order that I might allow myself to be eaten. I remember climbing to the top of my palace, throwing down some incense and flowers, praying, “Make me the Rohita fish!” and jumping. I died the moment I hit the ground and was instantly reborn as the Rohita fish, as I obviously knew I would be. (I wouldn’t have jumped off the roof of my palace otherwise.)

  Now that I was the Rohita fish, my people came at me with spears and hooks and started slicing me to pieces while I was still alive. As they chopped me up, I wept tears of love for them and cried out, “Eat of my flesh, citizens, eat and be healed!” They proceeded to feast on my body for the next twelve years. (The Rohita is an enormous fish.) At the end of those twelve years I cried out to my people once more: “I, YOUR KING PADMAKA, HAVE SAVED YOU!” (How I could still speak after they’d been eating me for twelve consecutive years, I am still not quite sure, but I definitely could.) (AVDS)

  I will now tell you the story of my final and greatest lifetime, the one in which I finally became the Buddha. It all began in Tusita Heaven, the lovely place I had lived for several hundred years. One day some gods came to me and begged me to reenter human life. I remember their exact words to me: “Sir,” they said (because the gods always treated me as their superior, which I was), “now that you have achieved perfection
you must save mankind. Now, sir, is the time for your Buddhahood.” (NK; SV)

  Before I agreed to go to earth, I needed to survey the situation. “First of all,” I remember thinking, “I must be born into a superior and wealthy family. My mother must not be a slutty drunk. That woman down there, Queen Maya, looks more than acceptable.” At that point, I turned to the gods. “I guess this is goodbye, old friends,” I said, then walked into Tusita City Park and flew down to earth. (NK)

  I was conceived in the following way: In a dream, my mother was anointed with perfume and covered with flowers. I then took the form of a multi-tusked, heavily perfumed white elephant and entered her womb. (NK; ASV. 1:20) Q: Does this mean that I was a white elephant? A: No, it certainly does not mean that. Nor does it mean that my father was a white elephant and that I was therefore half white elephant. Q: What does it mean then? A: That I briefly took the shape of a white elephant as I entered my mother’s womb, achieving what you might call “Poetic Effect.”

  White Elephant-Me quickly informed my mother that she was pregnant. “You have conceived a pure and powerful being,” I told her from within her womb. (The moment I was conceived, by the way, the following things occurred: Hunchbacks stood upright, the fires in hell briefly went out and basically everyone in the world was in an excellent mood. (NK) Similarly, when I was born ten months later, the mute sang and the lame danced. How long they continued to do so after my birth, I cannot say. They might’ve sang and danced only for a few moments and then reverted to their lameness and dumbness.) (KDS)

  When I took up residence in my mother’s womb, four gods joined me in order to make sure that no one should harm me. (MJ 123) Some people later claimed that billions of other Buddhas lived in my mother’s womb with me, that my mother was somehow the mother of all Buddhas, past, present and future. This is absolutely untrue. My mother’s womb was not, as some people later said, “as vast as the heavens” nor was it “as huge as outer space.” People didn’t walk around in my mother’s womb, taking “steps as big as star systems.” There were no “bejewelled palaces” in Mother’s womb and I definitely wasn’t sitting in one of them being worshipped by 80,000 “Snake Kings,” led by one particular reptile named “Sagara!” (GV 44) None of that is true.

  As I was born, the four gods caught me in a little net. I exited my mother’s side because, needless to say, I was not going to be corrupted by the loathsome impurities of her birth canal. (ASV 1:25–32) I emerged pure, clean and shiny, like a precious little gem, which is exactly what I was. (ACC 3:118–24) I actually walked out of mother’s side like a little man striding down a staircase, arms swinging free and easy, until I fell into the gods’ net. I didn’t need to be bathed after my birth because, as I just mentioned, I was born completely free of all “vaginal impurities.” Nevertheless, as an extra precaution apparently, two jets of water sprayed down on me from the heavens, one of them cool, the other warm. After that (for the first, but definitely not the last time) flowers were dumped on me. (NK; ASV 1:29)

  As soon as my shower was over, I jumped out of the gods’ net, stood up and looked around. “No one is superior to you,” the gods cried to me. “How could they be?” I gazed around in every direction and, seeing no one equal to me, took several large steps forward. (Brahma, the main god present, hurried alongside me holding a little white parasol over my head to shield me from the sun, which was considerate of him.) I suddenly stopped, pointed one hand at the ground and the other at the sky and proclaimed at the top of my little lungs, “I AM THE KING OF THE WORLD!” (NK; ACC 3:118–24)

  After that, I looked directly at my mother and announced, “This will be my final birth. After this lifetime I will achieve extinction.” (ASV 1:34) At that point, my mother passed out. A few days later, she died. This was a sad turn of events, of course, but also, to be honest, necessary. My mother’s womb, you see, was like a little shrine to me. After I was born, no other being could inhabit it without contaminating it. Consequently, Mother had to die. Luckily for me, Mother’s sister, my Aunt Prajapati, stepped in and raised me, acting as a surrogate mother. I was not deprived in any way. (NK; MHP)

  I was given the name “Siddhartha,” which means “Every Wish Fulfilled,” because that, in fact, was to be my destiny. I was born to dispel ignorance, help mankind move beyond pain and suffering and end the misery of all living things in the universe. I was born, that is, to be the most profound conqueror the world has ever known, the conqueror of anguish.

  Thus my life began.

  2

  Not long after my mother died, my father, King Suddhodana, invited a group of seers to his palace to predict my future. It was obvious to everyone that I was a special child; I had, after all, emerged from my mother’s side, dashed around and announced that I was the King of the World. My “specialness” was not in question. The only question was: What kind of king would I be, worldly or spiritual?

  The seers informed my father that if I ever left his palace and observed what the outside world was like, I would become a spiritual ruler. If, on the other hand, I remained within the palace’s cloistered walls, I would become a worldly ruler. Father decided to keep me in the palace, so there I grew up in pampered luxury, surrounded by every kind of wealth and beauty imaginable, never exposed to ugliness of any kind. (NK) Father indulged my every whim. I had a charming little golden carriage which was pulled by four deer, for instance. (ASV 2:22–29) My bedroom was decorated like a heavenly chariot.

  With regard to my physical perfection, well, where to even begin? My voice had sixty-four different pitches, all of them extremely pleasing to the ear; I mainly sounded like a bird (a sparrow), which is a splendid thing for a human boy to sound like. I could touch my ear-holes with my tongue; I could also lick my own forehead; I had magnificently webbed fingers and toes; I had wheels on my feet; my head was shaped like a turban. (That last one might not sound good, but it looked fantastic, I assure you.) I also had perfect judgment. An example: When seasoning foods, I knew exactly, and I mean exactly, the right amount of seasoning to add for optimal eating pleasure. (MJ 91; ASV 1:65; MHP)

  To be clear, I have no “ego” about any of these things. I state them merely as facts. The truth is that I long ago transcended ego (ATT 1:11–15); I do not even have an ego—I am interested only in love and compassion. (MJ 90) But it is undeniably the case that I was a dazzling and wondrous boy. Everything came easily to me. I could master any subject without any instruction. I spoke sixty-four different languages, each with its own alphabet. I was extremely gifted at mathematics. I once informed my father that I could count all the atoms in the world. Father, justifiably amazed, said, “That is a lot of atoms, son.” “Yes, it certainly is, Father,” I agreed. “Will that not take you a very long time, Siddhartha?” “No, Father, in fact, I can do it in the time it takes you to draw a single breath!” That left Father speechless. (LV 10–12)

  I was also a brilliant archer. One time I entered an archery tournament (which is amusing in a way because, honestly, why would anyone think they could beat me?) and I was just about to shoot when I stopped and turned to the crowd. “With this bow of meditative concentration,” I announced to them, “I will fire the arrow of wisdom and kill the tiger of ignorance in all living beings!” I still remember how impressed people were by my eloquence. I then fired my arrow, which flew straight through an iron wall before disappearing deep in the earth. (LV 10–12) “The young prince is a wonderment,” the people all proclaimed. Which again, ego aside, I was.

  As I have mentioned, Father did not want me to know that suffering existed. For that reason, sickness, old age and death were strictly forbidden from my presence. As soon as a servant hit the age of forty or so they were quickly removed from the palace, as was anyone who got ill. I remember observing a man sneeze one day and thinking to myself, “What was that about?” and then noticing that the man was gone the next day. Even ugly people were banned from my sight. Only healthy and beautiful young people were allowed to be near me. And it w
asn’t just people either. If a goat got sick, it was quickly slaughtered. Even plants were treated this way; if they wilted even slightly, they were instantly uprooted. “Are you getting older?” I remember once asking my father. “Not at all,” he responded. “Are you wearing make-up?” I continued. “Of course not,” he huffed, though in hindsight he obviously was.

  Sometimes I look back and wonder: Did I actually not grasp that people aged and got sick? Did I not notice myself aging? Did I myself never get sick? Could I have actually reached nearly thirty years of age without realizing that death existed? The truth is, there was some small inner part of me that sensed there was more to life than eternal health, youth and happiness. Glimpses of truth, that is, did occasionally break through.

  The first one occurred when I was eight years old. There was a planting ceremony of some sort taking place. It was a very hot day, the sun was beating down. I sat in the shade of an apple tree observing the ceremony and as I sat there, I slowly went into a kind of trance. In hindsight, I understand that this was the first time I ever entered into the state of Oneness. The gods, perhaps impatient for me to begin saving the world, apparently wanting me to remain in this state of Oneness as long as possible, literally stopped the sun from moving for several hours, thus allowing me to remain comfortably in the shade. (NK)

  Another important childhood epiphany: I was ten years old this time, once again sitting under an apple tree. (I was drawn to sitting under trees from the start.) A bird swooped down and pecked the ground near me, then flew away with a worm in its beak and I remember thinking to myself at that moment: “The worm will die.” This led to the following question: “Does that mean everything will die?” Instantly I knew the answer: Of course everything would die. I felt a profound wave of sadness at this realization. “Things die,” I whispered to myself. “And before they die, they suffer.”

  A few years after that, I married the beautiful Princess Yasodhara. Father assumed that Yasodhara and I would quickly have children but thirteen years flew by and we remained childless. Why, you wonder? Because I was not ready to be a father, that’s why. For that reason I did not lie with Yasodhara, not even one time. Trying to pique my interest in women, Father surrounded me with scantily clad dancing girls—a lot of them—40,000, to be exact. (NK) But the dancing girls’ presence didn’t work on me; I was too strong, I resisted. I had zero intention of creating a screaming little red-faced baby, because why on earth would I want that? (Also, to be honest, Yasodhara bled every month, which I found sickening.)