Farming the Fields
Farming the fields of the mind in many ways aptly captures the intricacies of contemplative practice. Indeed, sages have long cultivated the fields of awareness, employing imagery from their former careers as farmers in order to best convey the ecological qualities of meditation, which entails tending the mind's fields with the utmost care and concern. Thus, through skillful use of symbolism, contemplative poetry often evokes the experience of farming the fields of the mind.
The Kasibhāradvāja Sutta from the Sutta Nipāta of the Pāli Canon depicts a particularly vivid instance of cross-fertilization between horticulture, ecology, and permaculture on one hand and contemplative practice on the other.
Here, we examine in detail the Buddha's verses to Kasi Bhāradvāja, illustrating the connection between mental and environmental cultivation in what unfolds as a succinct poem richly permeated with ecological analogies on farming the fields of the mind.
Plow and Sow
The Kasibhāradvāja Sutta recounts the Buddha's encounter with a farmer by the name of Bhāradvāja, a prolific plowman (kasi) who tends a vast plot of land, laboring over the field, reaping a bountiful harvest that he then distributes.
Upon seeing the Buddha begging for alms, however, Bhāradvāja seems taken aback. Not knowing whether this seeming newcomer is worthy of offerings, he states, "I, contemplative, plow & sow. Having plowed & sown, I eat. You, too, contemplative, should plow & sow. Having plowed & sown, you (will) eat." One who has not worked, who has not pulled one's own weight, should not partake of the fruit belonging to others, or so he implies.
The Buddha replies that he indeed plows and sows, not unlike his fellow plowman Bhāradvāja. Confused, Bhāradvāja asks where the Buddha keeps his yoke and plow. In response to the plowman's suspicion, the Buddha describes his version of "plowing" in verse.
Conviction is my seed,
austerity my rain,
discernment my yoke & plow,
conscience my pole,
mind my yoke-tie,
mindfulness my plowshare & goad.
Guarded in body,
guarded in speech,
restrained in terms of belly & food,
I make truth a weeding-hook,
and composure my unyoking.
Persistence, my beast of burden,
bearing me toward rest from the yoke,
takes me, without turning back,
to where, having gone,
one doesn't grieve.
That's how my plowing is plowed.
It has
as its fruit
the deathless.
Having plowed this plowing
one is unyoked
from all suffering
& stress.
We find here an elaborate analogy for contemplative practice expressed in horticultural terms. Cultivation is, after all, a word of varied meanings, ranging from mental to environmental, introspective to ecological. This is exactly the sort of contrast that the Buddha aims to collapse through these verses.
In other words, the inner work one undertakes via contemplative practice is no less valuable, no less arduous, no less intensive than that which is performed in the field. While the fruits of one's labor differ significantly, one psychological and the other physical forms of nutriment, they are inextricably intertwined.
To plow and sow thus takes on an additional range of simultaneously existential and ecological meanings in the context of the contemplative path. To illuminate these intertwined aspects of cultivation, we offer a break-down of the symbolism invoked by the Buddha in these verses.
Sifting the Soil
At the outset of the verses, conviction is likened to a seed, the initial and arguably most essential component of one's cultivation. In the field of awareness, the seed of conviction (Pāli: saddhā), variously understood in terms of faith, trust, confidence, is the basis for the rest of the crop, as in its absence, nothing will become of the field. Conviction is thus the seed from which all else grows.
Austerity, likewise, plays a central role in a similar manner as rain. Interestingly, this austerity is from the Pāli word tapa, related to the Sanskrit term tapas, referring to intensive practices and spiritual exercises, conveyed by the term askēsis in Greek, which carry the connotation of heat. Rather than fire, however, this austerity is likened to rain, providing the nourishment required by seeds in order to germinate.
Discernment is then likened to a yoke and plow, providing the means to till the field. Such discernment (Pāli: paññā) is wise and penetrating, capable of sifting the soil in preparation for planting. Once the ground of awareness has been turned over with discernment, ensuring no weeds or rocks are present to obstruct growth, then the crop may take root in a healthy field.
Meanwhile, conscience (hirī) is depicted as a pole, mind (mano) as yoke-tie, and mindfulness (sati) as plowshare and goad, each serving as tools presumably directing the "two oxen" referenced in other contexts, namely samatha and vipassanā, while these complementary sides of meditation further prepare the field.
Unyoking
The next verses tell us that one who is well-guarded in body and speech, one who is restrained in eating, makes truth (sacca) a weeding-hook and composure (soracca) their unyoking. Through keeping a watchful eye over one's impulses and regulating their otherwise thoughtless enaction, one cultivates truth and composure, a keen sense of what is real and a gentle sense of tact on the contemplative path.
At this stage, persistence is compared to a beast of burden, enabling forward progress "toward rest from the yoke...to where, having gone, one doesn't grieve," according to the verses. Such persistence is from the term vīriya, energetic application, etymologically related to vigor. This vigor is what drives one toward the harvest one intends, complete and utter liberation from all bondage.
Ultimately, the fruit of this harvest is "the deathless," from the term amata, which also conveys the meaning "ambrosia" in some contexts. Such a state is free of all suffering, the supreme source of safety and security, liberated from the cycle of further becoming. As the verses aptly conclude, "Having plowed this plowing, one is unyoked from all suffering & stress," completely unbound, free.
Planting the Seeds
As can be discerned from these contemplative verses, the parallels between mental ecology, the whole-systems permaculture of the mind, and environmental ecology run deep. We hope these reflections contribute to planting the seeds for regenerative practices, both mental and environmental, seamlessly amalgamating the two.
To be continued.
Source:
Thanissaro Bhikkhu (Trans.), Kasi Bharadvaja Sutta: To the Plowing Bharadvaja, Access to Insight (BCBS Edition), 2013.
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