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Introductory Note The classical tradition of yoga in Thailand is imbued with tremendous beauty and grace. The brilliance of the teaching is readily perceived through its elegance, simplicity and technical precision, through the organization of its rule-ensemble and its subtle philosophic idiom. The yoga is actually a highly refined vernacular pregnant with Khmer and Siamese stylistic modes, and in this way retains an array of Tantric, Buddhist, Vedic, Shamanic and other sophisticated cultural elements. Its quiet arrival to foreign shores anticipates a post-modern renaissance of yoga. The Classical Tradition is yoga sri tantra.
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No Imitation Contemporary knowledge of this classical tradition is primarily based on the rediscovered principles of Guru Chod of Bangkok (1900-1988) and his thoroughgoing restoration of the classical elements of Thai-Khmer ascetic culture. Yet it needs to be said that, to call this a "tradition" is entirely too cliché. Tradition only means "imitation." Tradition implies a fixed conformity, something that is rigid and essentially dead. This you can count on: yoga sri tantra is no imitation; nor can it ever be imitated. Though naturally affected by Buddhist teachings, its great prestige can only be ascribed to a broad variety of sophisticated cultural elements. And in this vein, it is imperative to understand the major role that the Ancient Khmer has played in shaping this post-modern Siamese tantra. Indeed, the stunning contributions of Royal Brāhmanical Angkorian culture have been sitting on history's back burner long enough.
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Yoga Cannot Be Learned by a Book Throughout my years as a Buddhist monk, as during my career as an initiated yogin, I have repeatedly been asked to speak in public. Inevitably, I speak on the subject of yoga. Yoga is, after all, the thing I know best. However, I am a little concerned that the present reader will be made to wonder, "What is particularly Thai about this yoga?" Well, it is a little like meeting your lover in Paris. I mean, What a charming a place for lovers to meet! But beyond the pretty backdrop, the place is incidental. And frankly speaking from the point of view of lovers, a bed is a bed be it Paris or Phuket.
I
In Siam, or let us say, modern
Thailand,[1]
ascetics commonly survive through their begging bowl, and they have the
habit of taking it with them wherever they travel. In utter simplicity, the
large outer robe often seconds as a bed sheet. So, we rise before dawn to take a quick shower then wrap the large outer robe around our bodies. We grab our bowls and without wearing shoes, walk out into the nearby streets where people are waiting to offer food. One doesn't even have to touch money in Thailand. One's urge to live the unhampered life and go to point-zero is completely sanctioned by devout lay supporters. In the hyper-technological context of our day, the survival of such customs is truly astonishing.
It's like this. In Oriental[2]
countries such as India, Thailand,
Cambodia, Burma, Sri Lanka, Laos, Taiwan and others, religious people
strongly believe in the great propitiousness of supporting ascetics. By
offering assistance in the name of religion, they believe they are fostering
their own eventual liberation. Writing way back in the 1930's, I.B. Horner
succinctly noted:
Until quite
modern times sanctity has far and wide been vested in an ascetic, in one who
is able to resist his primary instincts and who will not compromise with
worldly interests. Hence, a reflected sanctity appertains to anyone who
ministers him. One of the reasons why asceticism was positively encouraged
in India was on account of merit, as they supposed was possible, by giving
food, medicine, raiment...and dwellings...to those whom they regard as
holier than they; and greater holiness was thought to reside in a more rigid
asceticism than any to which they could dedicate their own lives.[3]
In a very real sense, then, this
radical brand of asceticism is based on what the present writer calls "the
economy of giving." In Indian languages, this "giving" is called dāna
(Latin donum, English "donation"), which is probably best rendered as
"generosity." And so it is believed that with true generosity, one generates
the power of unconditional love (Sanskrit, metha). But there is never
any sense of payment with dāna. For example, when a student makes an
offering to a teacher, the teacher doesn't think, "This gift is for me," but
rather, "This gift is for the benefit of my student."[4]
In this sense, dāna is a form of "offering" that contains a profound
ritualistic significance. Or as anthropologist J. van Baal explains,
An offering is a gift, and a gift is,
in the first place, a means for symbolic communication and participation in
the life of the donee, rather than a means to satisfy ones physical needs,
to bribe, or to compensate for favours received.[5] In fact, such "giving" is a means of symbolic communication with the supernatural world.
The Basic Procedure of Indian Thought
Now a basic conception of worldly
economy is that wealth is based on "holdings." A person or company is
therefore always viewed as being worth so much in holdings or assets. But in
the religious cultures coming from India, an altogether different
perspective is held. In the Orient a tremendous importance is placed on
perfecting the virtue of dāna. Here we have the basis of the economy
of giving where ideally wealth is measured not in terms of how much you
have, but how much you give. Whole economies are founded on this principle.
It is actually a form of "primordial economy" where people graciously vie
with one another in order to see who gets to be the richest. In this way,
dāna also means "wealth." Westernized cultures rarely practice true giving. They always give downward and never give up. This is why so often our attempts at charity turn into something vain and destructive. Is it possible to correct this? To understand dāna one can practice small acts of friendliness and giving, but without strings attached – that's the important point. With regular practice, giving gets easier until one comes to see oneself as the ultimate source of all. Thus, perfect giving is to give away everything. Such ultimate giving is equal to surrender and exactly what being an ascetic is all about. For the wise have said that a man gains freedom only with the courage to give away all. So, after giving outwardly, a man aims higher and earnestly endeavors to give away all. And after giving away all, he can only give up. Ultimate surrender means giving up all. It is the basic procedure of Indian thought.
Philosophically the procedure is
contained by sannyās,
a Sanskrit word normally rendered as "renunciation." But
sannyās bears added severity. For
according sannyās,
there is nothing worth having.
Which brings us to the pith of the
Buddhist dialectic:
Now, yoga is presumed to be of Indian birth, but this is not altogether certain. It is, however, a very ancient practice. Personally, I very much like the idea that yoga was born precisely at the time that the human being was born. May we speak of evolution then? Is human evolution anything more than a poetic metaphor? Well, poetry or science, it can reasonably be said, "when early man stopped walking on his knuckles, yoga came into existence."[9] What, after all, is the human being as a species? An earlier, perhaps related species was Homo erectus, "the man who stood up." But present man calls himself Homo sapiens, "the man who is smart." He stood erect in search of greener pastures, to bring far horizons into sharper focus, to contemplate the future. This creature had plans![10] Now of course there were apes in the tops of tall trees that were also privy to distant horizons. But the Homo family had its feet on the ground and developed a vertical spinal cord – an upright backbone with four gentle curves running upward from the sacrum to the cerebral cavity, thus establishing its ground-breaking cerebro-spinal axis. However, as man stood up his cerebrum expanded and he gained a sense of his own mortality. Let us have a look at the English word "cerebrum."
We know that cerebrum was taken from
Latin in the 17th century, but why at first glance does it look so
Sanskritic? Why is one so tempted to
"roll with the hunch" and segment the word into two root units cere°
and °brum? Cere- would seem to indicate "the head" as echoed
in the Sanskrit-derived Hindi term "sirī" with its interesting
reference to "the head of a sacrifice." But what about -brum? Are we
seeing correspondence with the Vedic word brahman, the ultimate first
principle of Indian thought?[11]
After all, even up to recent times, scholars have associated brahman
with the Latin word flamen, a title for priests. In the philosophic
sense, of course, Brahman refers to that which lies beyond the sphere
of human awareness, as its source is hidden and essentially unknowable.
Brahman represents that ubiquitous something through which we all exist
and act. But it also corresponds to what later Hinduism referred to as
shakti, the primordial "potency" or "force" of nature.[12]
It has also been defined as "holy power."[13]
On the strength of all of this, then, cerebrum seems to indicate "the human
organ of higher consciousness," the aspect of the body that mirrors
Brahman... Or is this merely an expression of our necrophilic obstinacy
to pillage the body of ancient language? Alas, we were only half-right.[14]
Last revised
23 Apr 2007. _______________ Notes
[1]
The kingdom of Siam changed its name to Thailand in 1941 during the
Phibun regime. Thus, "[a]s a result of the nationalist policy of the
Phibun government, the term Thai
came to encompass all ethnic groups in Thailand, and not just the
Tai-Siamese, who were concentrated in the Central Plains." Kamala
Tiyavanich, Forest Recollections:
Wandering Ascetics in 20th Century Thailand [2] Oriental? Eastern? Asian? How to avoid sounding pompously colonial? But remember these words are essentially the same. Asia itself is derived from the Assyrian word assu, which simply means "east." It appears somewhere in the Homeric narratives (first put in written form in the 8th-7th century BCE) to describe the blood-drenched scene at Troy of a mother standing on the wall of the city clutching her slaughtered child to her breast, her throat stretched upward squealing to the heavens 'as the ducks in the rain on the plain of Assu.' [3] I.B. Horner, Women Under Primitive Buddhism, London, 1930: 315. [4] In the strict sense an offering to a guru is called dakshinā. [5] J. van Baal, "Offering, Sacrifice and Gift," in Numen, 23. Leiden, 1976: 161-78, n. [6] Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus, Paris, 1942, English trans. 1955.
[7]
"[He] becomes conscious of all those physiological acts he had
previously performed automatically and unconsciously," Mircea Eliade,
Yoga: Immortality and Freedom [8] Anguttara-nikāya, II, 48.
[9]
I borrow this idea from Lawrence Durrell's
[10] Bipedalism gave competitive edge, being more energy efficient than a quadrupedal gait. The eighty-foot-long track of footprints discovered by Mary Leakey at Laetoli provides the most convincing evidence that Australopithecus-afarensis walked upright in Africa as early as 3.6 million years ago. Homo ergaster was the first human ancestor to move out of Africa, around 1.8 million years ago. This early species in genus Homo was born to travel, as it seems to have left the African continent almost as soon as it appeared. Its fossils are known in Europe, China and Java. [11] As noted by Indologist Heinrich Zimmer (Philosophies of India, edited by Joseph Campbell, Bollingen Series XXVI, Princeton University Press, 1951: 79), Brahman is based on the Vedic root brih (or brah), the particle of 'power,' 'growth' and 'expansion.' When inflected, brih becomes both brih-ant 'great' and brimh 'to make or render great.' As applies to sound, brih signifies 'roar' and when inserted with the nasal m as in brimhita it means "elephant roar," i.e., the sentient sound that 'swells' above the others. When the genitive ending -man is considered, Brah-man gives the sense of 'heightened activation,' but it is something far more than the intellect (Zimmer: 77). The genitive Sanskrit ending -man is naturally recognized in words such as ātman and karman (karma). Ātman is based on the particle an "to breath" (or as some believe, at, "to go"). It is therefore the particle of breathing (or going), which is also "life." Karman is from kri, "to make," which is the particle of 'working,' 'activity' and 'ritual.' [12] Zimmer: 76-9. [13] Arthur Berriedale Keith, The Rigveda Brāhmans, Harvard Oriental Series, vol. 25. Cambridge Mass, 1920, as cited in Zimmer: 69-75.
[14]
For the fact is that 'cerebrum' cannot be segmented into two units, cere°
and °brum. The word, however, does mean "brain." Cere- for its
own part also corresponds to the Vedic/Sanskrit shiras and to the
older Rig-Vedic shīrshan,
both meaning "head." Cere- and shiras are based on the
Proto-Indo-European root k'riH-, as are a host of other Indo-European
words, e.g. Greek keras ("head") and Latin cornu ("horn").
This shows that k'riH- originally indicated 'the uppermost part of the
body, head, horn, summit,' etc.
See Pokorny, Indogermanisches Etymologisches Wörterbuch, 2 vols.
Bern/Stuttgart, Francke, 1959: 574.
Moreover, the
fact that Latin cerebrum means "brain" confirms that Latin used a -ro-
suffix in its derivation from the Greek keras-rom, denoting
'something that belongs to the head.' However it is curious that the
Latin word for 'head,' which should have been something along the lines
of cere-, was supplanted by the altogether different word
"caput." There is also evidence of an early correlation with Latin
caput (cf. German kaput) and Sanskrit kapāla meaning,
"skull," but this has not been definitely proven. |