Notes on the life of Shakyamuni Buddha
written by Vova, a layman and yogi.
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Maya, Siddhartha’s mother, died shortly after giving birth to the prince. Yet his family surrounded him with such love and care that it seemed to fill the child’s whole existence to the fullest. Siddhartha’s life also abounded in luxury. In each season he lived in a different palace. Each boasted an exquisite pond in which dancers and actors performed. Everything that could please the senses existed in his life.
The love and tenderness that Siddhartha received from his family brought him great happiness, but luxury made him uneasy. He felt something deceptive and frightening about it. He often recalled the impermanence of the luxuries in his mother’s life. The young prince paid close attention to those who were old and sick, and reflected on the fate of those who died. “How can I neglect them?” he asked himself. “I myself will have to face the same fate.”
Like all princes, Siddhartha had an instructor in martial arts and a Brahmin teacher who taught him not only grammar, but the sacred texts that deal with world creation, gods, rituals and the history of the Shakya dynasty. The inquisitive student asked questions about the path of salvation from suffering, but his teachers would avoid direct answers. “A warrior serves the glory of his clan. The Gods themselves greet him for his valor,” said an instructor who had himself fought many battles.
“I dream of vanquishing suffering itself in battle,” the prince made a commitment in his heart. “Every man has his own path predetermined by his actions in the past,” claimed the Brahmin. “The Gods send us omens and messengers to point out that which is destined to come.”
“I have already seen the three messengers,” reflected Siddhartha. “They were the sick man who was without strength, laying on the ground dependent on others, the old man who suffered in his tired and weakened body, and the dead man who was indifferent to all that he was attached in his earthly life. They pointed out to me the path that all mortals must walk. I must find salvation from suffering.”
Sometimes bliss would suddenly seize the young man. He could not explain the reason for these experiences except for the presentiment that the solution for the task at hand was near. But then the bliss would unexpectedly disappear without a trace and Siddhartha would return to observing his ongoing life.
Siddhartha’s body, well-tempered through horse- riding, archery, wrestling and other martial disciplines, became beautiful and strong. His art of contemplation, fortified by memorization of the sacred texts and lessons in dialogue, ripened brilliantly. Siddhartha was ascending the stairway towards greatness. Fate offered him two more generous gifts: his beloved wife and son.
The reigning king, however, was preparing his heir to the throne for the task of heading the glorious clan of descendants from the Sun Dynasty. While most people might have been satisfied with military valor or knowledge of the sacred texts, the main question in Siddhartha’s consciousness remained unanswered. “What is the path to salvation from suffering and insecurity in human life?”