Contemplative Silence - Know From The Rivers

Contemplative Silence

Containing some of the earliest material attributed to the historical Buddha, the Sutta Nipāta forms the basis for our next inquiry. Arranged in verses, this particular book of the Pāli Canon often waxes poetic, employing metaphor and imagery based on the natural setting from which its teachings take their inspiration. Comprising an early strata of pre-sectarian material, prior to the formalization of the Dhamma into organized dogma, its contents may help shed light on universally relevant aspects of the contemplative path.

In particular, we examine a passage from the Nālaka Sutta, featured in the third chapter of the Sutta Nipāta.

Honing in on contemplative silence, we find the Buddha in this case offering an ecological analogy for the use of speech. "Know from the rivers," begins the passage. Both literally via the metaphor that follows, we are asked to learn from the natural world.

Know from the Rivers

Contextually, the Nālaka Sutta takes its name after the character Nālaka, nephew and student of the sage Asita who is said to have predicted the infant Buddha's future course shortly after the prince's noble birth. Many years later, after hearing of the Buddha's "turning of the wheel," Nālaka is intent on leaving home to pursue the contemplative life.

A contemplative aspirant keen on spiritual progress, Nālaka asks the Buddha to explain to him the utmost state of sagacity. Heeding the seeker's request, the Buddha provides instruction on cultivating the virtue, concentration, and wisdom of the forest-dwelling renunciate. After covering these foundations, there occurs a section addressing contemplative silence via a particularly salient image of flowing water.

Know from the rivers
in clefts & in crevices:
those in small channels flow
noisily,
the great
flow silent.
Whatever's not full
makes noise.
Whatever is full
is quiet.

Employing nature-based imagery, the Buddha perhaps directs Nālaka's attention to a nearby creek or even simply the memory of flowing water, instructing him to "know from the rivers."

"Small channels" and "whatever's not full" refer to those with immature spiritual faculties, while "the great" and "whatever is full" allude to those who have matured on the contemplative path. It's suggested that those who are immature are reckless and unreflecting in speech ("flow noisily"), while those who are mature tend to be careful and reflecting, knowing when to refrain from speech ("flow silent"). One who is immature "makes noise" while one who is mature "is quiet."

A Full Lake

Immediately following these verses, the Buddha extends the analogy and makes explicit the subjects. Again, a body of water is invoked as a teaching device, whether physically present or via imaginative construction.

The fool is like a half-empty pot;
one who is wise, a full lake.

While the text makes no mention of whether a pot or lake were present to drive the point home, they are nonetheless conjured for comparative purposes. Such verses liken the fool to a half-empty pot and the wise one to a full lake. One is obviously lacking in some capacity while the other is perfectly sufficient as-is. Like a half-empty pot, the fool is lacking in understanding, while like a full lake, the wise one's understanding is complete. The fool speaks empty words, while the wise, despite speaking little, conveys a fullness of meaning, making every word count.

Silent Sagehood

It should be clarified that speech is by no means rejected outright. One who speaks is not necessarily a fool. Rather, the purpose of speech ought to be closely examined.

A contemplative who speaks a great deal
endowed with meaning:
knowing, he teaches the Dhamma,
knowing, he speaks a great deal.
But he who,
knowing, is restrained,
knowing, doesn't speak a great deal:
he is a sage
worthy of sagehood;
he is a sage,
his sagehood attained.

The Buddha acknowledges that there are indeed contemplatives who speak at length and with meaning, teaching what they know, sharing unconditionally for the sake of growth. Nonetheless, one who, despite also knowing, is restrained in speech, one who has nothing to prove, one who chooses one's words wisely can truly be called a sage. In such a case, still waters run deep.

...

Given even these few verses, one can perhaps begin to appreciate the early Buddhist version of contemplative silence, which finds parallels across contemplative traditions. Perhaps speech may be transcended by the quiet sage, but not to the point of aversion. Ultimately, speech must be employed skillfully, to the benefit of others, for the sake of progress on the path.

That which flows quietly knows its course, with no need to crash against the banks of the river. On the surface of the full lake are reflected all ripples, momentarily arising and subsiding across its face.

In the spirit of contemplative silence, we let these words go for the time being. Perhaps with the help of stillness, they may leave a lasting impression despite fading from the water's surface.