The Life of Siddhartha Guatama

The Life of Siddhartha Gautama

Dr. C. George Boeree
Shippensburg University

There was a small country in what is now southern Nepal that was ruled by a clan called the Shakyas. The head of this clan, and the king of this country, was named Shuddodana Gautama, and his wife was the beautiful Mahamaya. Mahamaya was expecting her first born. She had had a strange dream in which a baby elephant had blessed her with his trunk, which was understood to be a very auspicious sign to say the least.

As was the custom of the day, when the time came near for Queen Mahamaya to have her child, she traveled to her father's kingdom for the birth. But during the long journey, her birth pains began. In the small town of Lumbini, she asked her handmaidens to assist her to a nearby grove of trees for privacy. One large tree lowered a branch to her to serve as a support for her delivery. They say the birth was nearly painless, even though the child had to be delivered from her side. After, a gentle rain fell on the mother and the child to cleanse them.

It is said that the child was born fully awake. He could speak, and told his mother he had come to free all mankind from suffering. He could stand, and he walked a short distance in each of the four directions. Lotus blossoms rose in his footsteps. They named him Siddhartha, which means "he who has attained his goals." Sadly, Mahamaya died only seven days after the birth. After that Siddhartha was raised by his mother’s kind sister, Mahaprajapati.

King Shuddodana consulted Asita, a well-known sooth-sayer, concerning the future of his son. Asita proclaimed that he would be one of two things: He could become a great king, even an emperor. Or he could become a great sage and savior of humanity. The king, eager that his son should become a king like himself, was determined to shield the child from anything that might result in him taking up the religious life. And so Siddhartha was kept in one or another of their three palaces, and was prevented from experiencing much of what ordinary folk might consider quite commonplace. He was not permitted to see the elderly, the sickly, the dead, or anyone who had dedicated themselves to spiritual practices. Only beauty and health surrounded Siddhartha.

Siddhartha grew up to be a strong and handsome young man. As a prince of the warrior caste, he trained in the arts of war. When it came time for him to marry, he won the hand of a beautiful princess of a neighboring kingdom by besting all competitors at a variety of sports. Yashodhara was her name, and they married when both were 16 years old.

As Siddhartha continued living in the luxury of his palaces, he grew increasing restless and curious about the world beyond the palace walls. He finally demanded that he be permitted to see his people and his lands. The king carefully arranged that Siddhartha should still not see the kind of suffering that he feared would lead him to a religious life, and decried that only young and healthy people should greet the prince.

As he was lead through Kapilavatthu, the capital, he chanced to see a couple of old men who had accidentally wandered near the parade route. Amazed and confused, he chased after them to find out what they were. Then he came across some people who were severely ill. And finally, he came across a funeral ceremony by the side of a river, and for the first time in his life saw death. He asked his friend and squire Chandaka the meaning of all these things, and Chandaka informed him of the simple truths that Siddhartha should have known all along: That all of us get old, sick, and eventually die.

Siddhartha also saw an ascetic, a monk who had renounced all the pleasures of the flesh. The peaceful look on the monks face would stay with Siddhartha for a long time to come. Later, he would say this about that time:

When ignorant people see someone who is old, they are disgusted and horrified, even though they too will be old some day. I thought to myself: I don’t want to be like the ignorant people. After that, I couldn’t feel the usual intoxication with youth anymore.

When ignorant people see someone who is sick, they are disgusted and horrified, even though they too will be sick some day. I thought to myself: I don’t want to be like the ignorant people. After that, I couldn’t feel the usual intoxication with health anymore.

When ignorant people see someone who is dead, they are disgusted and horrified, even thought they too will be dead some day. I thought to myself: I don’t want to be like the ignorant people. After than, I couldn’t feel the usual intoxication with life anymore. (AN III.39, interpreted)

At the age of 29, Siddhartha came to realize that he could not be happy living as he had been. He had discovered suffering, and wanted more than anything to discover how one might overcome suffering. After kissing his sleeping wife and newborn son Rahula goodbye, he snuck out of the palace with his squire Chandara and his favorite horse Kanthaka. He gave away his rich clothing, cut his long hair, and gave the horse to Chandara and told him to return to the palace. He studied for a while with two famous gurus of the day, but found their practices lacking.


He then began to practice the austerities and self-mortifications practiced by a group of five ascetics. For six years, he practiced. The sincerity and intensity of his practice were so astounding that, before long, the five ascetics became followers of Siddhartha. But the answers to his questions were not forthcoming. He redoubled his efforts, refusing food and water, until he was in a state of near death.

One day, a peasant girl named Sujata saw this starving monk and took pity on him. She begged him to eat some of her milk-rice. Siddhartha then realized that these extreme practices were leading him nowhere, that in fact it might be better to find some middle way between the extremes of the life of luxury and the life of self-mortification. So he ate, and drank, and bathed in the river. The five ascetics saw him and concluded that Siddhartha had given up the ascetic life and taken to the ways of the flesh, and left him.

In the town of Bodh Gaya, Siddhartha decided that he would sit under a certain fig tree as long as it would take for the answers to the problem of suffering to come. He sat there for many days, first in deep concentration to clear his mind of all distractions, then in mindfulness meditation, opening himself up to the truth. He began, they say, to recall all his previous lives, and to see everything that was going on in the entire universe. On the full moon of May, with the rising of the morning star, Siddhartha finally understood the answer to the question of suffering and became the Buddha, which means “he who is awake.”

It is said that Mara, the evil one, tried to prevent this great occurrence. He first tried to frighten Siddhartha with storms and armies of demons. Siddhartha remained completely calm. Then he sent his three beautiful daughters to tempt him, again to no avail. Finally, he tried to ensnare Siddhartha in his own ego by appealing to his pride. That, too, failed. Siddhartha, having conquered all temptations, touched the ground with one hand and asked the earth to be his witness.

Siddhartha, now the Buddha, remained seated under the tree -- which we call the bodhi tree -- for many days longer. It seemed to him that this knowledge he had gained was far too difficult to communicate to others. Legend has it that Brahma, king of the gods, convinced Buddha to teach, saying that some of us perhaps have only a little dirt in our eyes and could awaken if we only heard his story. Buddha agreed to teach.

At Sarnath near Benares, about one hundred miles from Bodh Gaya, he came across the five ascetics he had practiced with for so long. There, in a deer park, he preached his first sermon, which is called “setting the wheel of the teaching in motion.” He explained to them the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path. They became his very first disciples and the beginnings of the Sangha or community of monks.


King Bimbisara of Magadha, having heard Buddha’s words, granted him a monastery near Rahagriha, his capital, for use during the rainy season. This and other generous donations permitted the community of converts to continue their practice throughout the years, and gave many more people an opportunity to hear the teachings of the Buddha.

Over time, he was approached by members of his family, including his wife, son, father, and aunt. His son became a monk and is particularly remembered in a sutra based on a conversation between father and son on the dangers of lying. His father became a lay follower. Because he was saddened by the departures of his son and grandson into the monastic life, he asked Buddha to make it a rule that a man must have the permission of his parents to become a monk. Buddha obliged him.

His aunt and wife asked to be permitted into the Sangha, which was originally composed only of men. The culture of the time ranked women far below men in importance, and at first it seemed that permitting women to enter the community would weaken it. But the Buddha relented, and his aunt and wife became the first Buddhist nuns.

The Buddha said that it didn’t matter what a person’s status in the world was, or what their background or wealth or nationality might be. All were capable of enlightenment, and all were welcome into the Sangha. The first ordained Buddhist monk, Upali, had been a barber, yet he was ranked higher than monks who had been kings, only because he had taken his vows earlier than they!

Buddha’s life wasn’t without disappointments. His cousin, Devadatta, was an ambitious man. As a convert and monk, he felt that he should have greater power in the Sangha. He managed to influence quite a few monks with a call to a return to extreme asceticism. Eventually, he conspired with a local king to have the Buddha killed and to take over the Buddhist community. Of course, he failed.

Buddha had achieved his enlightenment at the age of 35. He would teach throughout northeast India for another 45 years. When the Buddha was 80 years old, he told his friend and cousin Ananda that he would be leaving them soon. And so it came to be that in Kushinagara, not a hundred miles from his homeland, he ate some spoiled food and became very ill. He went into a deep meditation under a grove of sala trees and died. His last words were...


Impermanent are all created things;
Strive on with awareness.

Awareness of Suffering: The First Noble Truth

I can remember when I received my first large, lump sum payment. I remember that it had come out of the blue, quite unexpectedly, from a company that I had worked, for only a short time. I received almost 50 shares in a fortune 500 blue-chip company. I am now a stockholder.

I continued on my path when again, out of the blue, a large, lump sum payment. I hear the cash register open and I was handed $15,000 and a job well done. I can remember that the envelope was black with silver and gold stars. The feeling was like winning the lottery. I used the money to pay off the rest of my debt putting me back in the black again. And I continued on.

I began devoting myself to extracurricular activities and volunteer services. I took leadership courses for my self and facilitated them for others. I was becoming someone. And I continued on becoming quite proud of myself.

How good it made me feel, but only for a while. Like all other things temporary, the feeling started to fade. The daily routine of my life became just that, the daily routine.

I remember lying in my bed in the middle of winter. My apartment building was very old and cold due to the fact that we didn't have heat. I was very ill at the time. And I can remember lying in my bed, shaking violently, with my full body under the covers, and thinking to myself... I'm alive... I really feel alive right now.

I decide to move on.

My interests in the company that I was working for at the time were paid out again in one large, lump sum. $50,000 cash, minus uncle sam's cut.

I travel around Europe. I invest in a company that looks profitable and I spend the rest frivolously.

One year later, I return from my journey. I hop back on the wheel, the wheel begins to turn, the bills begin to mount, the debt begins to add up, the money disappears and with it, my time.

The mail comes. A letter stating, now you owe us!

Awareness of suffering. This is the first noble truth.

There is suffering, and there is a way of escape.

Exodus.

Letting Go: The Second Noble Truth

The Second Noble Truth speaks about the origin of suffering which is the attachment to desire: the desire for sensory pleasure; the desire to be something; and the desire to be rid of something.

But how do we really let go of anything? Isn't desiring to let go of something, desire as well? The Second Noble Truth simply speaks to us about recognizing desire. To reflect upon it. To observe it as it surfaces and when it surfaces.

I usually have a very hard time falling asleep at night. If I go to bed early, I lie in my bed for hours just thinking and thinking about what I did today; what I need to do tomorrow; my plans for the future; etc.

And as I lay there in constant contemplation, I can begin to reflect on the various aspects and desires of my mind.

And as each item of my day takes center stage inside my head, I can, one by one, listen to, then let go of each and every detail.

Heard. Thank you. Let go. Let God handle this. Next?

Heard. Thank you. Let go. Let God handle this. Next?

Until each item of my day, my week and my life are heard and let go of. Now this doesn't mean that the following night, I don't have to repeat this process. It is a daily practice.

The practice is to bring all thoughts into consciousness and to listen without judgement. Then you will know desire.

Then you can begin to dismiss these desires by creating, through practice, the experience of "letting go".

Bringing us to the understanding of the third insight into the Second Noble Truth. "Desire has been let go of." Then you will know, through experience, what letting go really means.

Suffering Comes and Goes: The Third Noble Truth

"The third noble truth of buddhism, Cessation of Suffering, is the rising and ceasing of the same craving that creates our suffering: the rejecting, relinquishing, leaving and renouncing of it." - Ajahn Sumedho

How many of us can say that we had a perfect childhood? Of course none, it wasn't perfect because life is not perfect because humans have a flawed, and narrow perspective of true perfection.

Although, when I did look back at the days of my youth looking for reasons why I wasn't perfect yet, I began realizing how my attachment to my narrow view was perpetuating my suffering.

Therefore, my understanding of the Third Noble Truth is "cease being perfect." Be open-minded to the idea that everything happens for a reason. Be willing to reject certainty. Be receptive to receiving a different perspective.

Stop looking for absolutes. Let the truth come to you. About you; about life; about what you think you know about your place in this universe.

And as you make time, to be receptive, to ponder, to reflect the great wonders of this world. Imagine yourself having the skill and ability to ride the wave of your suffering by allowing it to rise and fade and cease to be.

After 30 years on this earth, I am only now learning to appreciate the ebbs and flows of my life. In a greater sense, I am enjoying the seemingly low points of my life even more because I know that my wave will rise again.

And if it doesn't, I can accept it as being part of the great "what is". I am not attached to a particular outcome because I do not live in the future. The events of my life are unfolding at this very moment. Right here, right now.

And as the events of your life unfold, unfold with them as you begin to look more deeply into things, following the path to profound understanding. This understanding is based upon the rising and ceasing of temporal things. Once you get this, everything is part of the plan.

In other words, you are not your job or the leather jacket that you wear. And as you start recognizing the "things" in your life that are NOT you, you will begin to see things as they really are.

Letting things rise into our consciousness, then by laying them down, we can say, "I know cessation" by knowing that this particular some-thing has ceased.

Since I began doing guided exploration, I have experienced despair, depression, anger and hatred. At times, I felt under so much pressure that I wanted to explode. Memories, thoughts, beliefs, etc all started coming to the surface.

I felt powerless and powerful at the same time. I felt trapped and free. I felt lost and found. A great bundle of ironies. Then slowly, the emotions, the burning thoughts and the desires began to subside. This process is called the purification.

I open completely to my suffering, welcome it, concentrate on it, allow it to be what it is. That means we must be patient and bear with the unpleasantness of a particular condition. I have to endure boredom, despair, doubt and fear in order to understand that these things cease rather than running away from them.

When you let something go and allow it to cease, then what is left is peace.

In peace, we see things just as they are. When we are aware in this way, we begin to do the right things because they are the right things to do rather than out of a sense of personal ambition or fear of failure.

In this way, and through our understanding of cessation of suffering, our desire to be seen as an individual, no longer is important to us. We then abide in the great vastness where we all come together and merge.

The end of Suffering: The Fourth Noble Truth

And finally, the Fourth Noble Truth... the path leading to the cessation of suffering which is the Eightfold Path, grouped in three sections:

1. Wisdom (panna)

Right Understanding (samma ditthi)
Right Aspiration (samma sankappa)

2. Morality (sila)

Right Speech (samma vaca)
Right Action (samma kammanta)
Right Livelihood (samma ajiva)

3. Concentration (samadhi)

Right Effort (samma vayama)
Right Mindfulness (samma sati)
Right Concentration (samma samadhi)


The Fourth Noble Truth, like the first three Noble Truths, has three aspects or insights to keep in mind.

First, the Eightfold Path is the way out of suffering. Simply written, the path teaches us to reflect on the importance of taking responsibility for everything that we say and do in our lives.

Second, the Eightfold Path should be developed by practicing taking responsibility for everything that we say and do in our lives.

And Last, the Eightfold Path has been fully developed by being responsible for everything that we say and do in our lives.


I am pierced by my own understanding of the Fourth Noble Truth. It calls for the end of all delusions of the mind by the perfect understanding that all things are subject to rising and ceasing and they are not Self. "This too shall pass" as my father would say.

We enter the Eightfold Path by instinctively knowing in a profound way, in your gut, the right way of living. We understand that ignorance is the source of our despair and the suffering of humanity.

With this instinctive understanding comes compassion for our fellow humans. How can we hate or harbor bitterness for someone who is chained to their own ignorance? Are we not all part of the same human condition?

We are all influenced by our surroundings. We all make choices based upon our limited knowledge and understanding of the world in which we live.

But only when its darkest can we see the stars because what comes shining like a light in the darkness is our understanding that we can be free of our suffering by knowing that all things are subject to cessation.

Then and only then can we begin to make conscious choices to lay these things to the side by making right decisions and taking right actions.

Then free of desires, we can begin to aspire to truth, goodness, and beauty. This to me, is the Eightfold Path.

Its the feeling of my spirit moving within me when I read a speech by Martin Luther King Jr when he speaks of non-violence means to reach peaceful ends.

Its the intention that I have to see the world a better place by caring about the people around me and wanting to invest in them.

Its my attitude towards life and others when I see past the facade of this world, into what is the true essence of all things.

Then as I watch the mysteries of life unfold, I find peace of spirit knowing that everything is part of the divine plan. With this peace, I can enjoy the journey of my life.

A HANDFUL OF LEAVES

A HANDFUL OF LEAVES

The Blessed One was once living at Kosambi in a wood of simsapa trees. He picked up a few leaves in his hand, and he asked the bhikkhus, ‘How do you conceive this, bhikkhus, which is more, the few leaves that I have picked up in my hand or those on the trees in the wood?

‘The leaves that the Blessed One has picked up in his hand are few, Lord; those in the wood are far more.’

‘So too, bhikkhus, the things that I have known by direct knowledge are more; the things that I have told you are only a few. Why have I not told them? Because they bring no benefit, no advancement in the Holy Life, and because they do not lead to dispassion, to fading, to ceasing, to stilling, to direct knowledge, to enlightenment, to Nibbana. That is why I have not told them. And what have I told you? This is suffering; this is the origin of suffering; this is the cessation of suffering; this is the way leading to the cessation of suffering. That is what I have told you. Why have I told it? Because it brings benefit, and advancement in the Holy Life, and because it leads to dispassion, to fading, to ceasing, to stilling, to direct knowledge, to enlightenment, to Nibbana. So bhikkhus, let your task be this: This is suffering; this is the origin of suffering; this is the cessation of suffering; this is the way leading to the cessation of suffering.’