Anan: Book One

By Masahisa Goi

2,500 years ago, two powerful nations and a dozen city-states were at war with one another, bringing great instability to people’s lives. The teachings of Sakaymuni Buddha were influencing more and more people, and even some kings had begun ruling according to Buddhist principles. When the kingdom of the Aiku royal family is conquered, the princess is rescued by a vassal who loves her yet despises the Buddhist order embraced by her father, especially the young disciple called Anan...

Written by Japanese spiritual philosopher Masahisa Goi, 'Anan' is a trilogy of fictional stories centered around one of the Buddha’s ten great disciples, known in the West as Ananda. Set in ancient India and Nepal, the books bring together characters both historical and fictional in tales of overcoming karma and inner demons to find one’s true self and attain a state of peace.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Byakko Press
• Release date: Mar 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005439606

Masahisa Goi

Born in Tokyo, Japan, on November 22, 1916, Masahisa Goi was a poet, philosopher, writer, and singer. Though he aimed at a career in music, he found himself spontaneously drawn to the realms of philosophy and spiritual guidance. At the age of 33 he attained oneness with his divine self. From that time on, he endeavored to reach out to people by holding informal talks, where anyone was invited to participate and ask questions. He enjoyed this direct contact with people, and provided many with spiritual guidance toward the attainment of inner peace.Mr. Goi authored more than 60 books and volumes of poetry, including God and Man (his first and most fundamental work), One Who Unites Heaven and Earth (an autobiography of his early life), The Spirit of Lao Tsu, Essays on the Bible, How to Develop Your Spirituality, and Catch the Light, to name a few. Translations of many of his works are in progress.Based on the universal prayer May Peace Prevail on Earth which he advocated, Masahisa Goi founded a worldwide movement of world peace through prayer, transcending religious, ethnic, and political boundaries. Before departing from this world in 1980, he named Mrs. Masami Saionji, his adopted daughter, as his successor and leader of the world peace prayer movement that he initiated.

Book preview

Princess Sondari and Masla

ONE

Do not fight, do not take up arms! Honor the holy teachings of Buddha Seson…

As the sounds of her father’s cries faded into the distance, a vision of the gentle, handsome face of Anan suddenly appeared before Princess Sondari’s eyes.

Oh, Anan-sama, you have come to rescue me! Anan-sama has come to rescue me… The moment she had this thought, the princess lost consciousness, as if she were pulled into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, Masla the warrior continued to fight bravely.

How foolish it is to die without putting up a fight! Masla had deliberately ignored the king’s orders and thrown himself into enemy territory. Considered the bravest man in the country, he stood more than six feet tall and had unshakable confidence in his own physical strength and in the martial skills he had honed over the course of many battles. Without hesitation, he cut down every enemy soldier that crossed his path. Yet no matter how many he eliminated, their numbers never seemed to diminish. This was not the case with his side, however. They had dwindled to a mere three or four soldiers, and there were no more brave men left to bring up the rear.

We can’t go on like this! Realizing that defeat was imminent, Masla was suddenly gripped by a sense of alarm. Turning on his heels, he abruptly stopped fighting and headed back toward the castle, running as fast as he could, paying no attention to the enemy soldiers all around him.

As he ran, a seething anger pierced his chest with a sharp pain. What fools! If all our men had joined forces to fight, we would have won this battle! The exasperating thought that those who could have taken up arms had chosen not to ran obsessively through his mind, adding more and more fuel to his anger.

In a rage, Masla stormed into the castle. Once inside, he could hear the jubilant, boastful voices of enemy soldiers: We’ve got the king’s head! We beheaded King Aiku! Shocked by this revelation, Masla instinctively headed in the direction of the voices. Then, changing his mind, he made his way to the princess’s chamber—this was his reason for coming back to the castle.

TWO

Princess Sondari had a vague sense of being carried through the air, as if in a dream. Though her awareness was hazy, she felt sure that the person carrying her was Anan. The rhythmic, back-and-forth movement of swift running was quite soothing to the princess, and as she tried to imagine Anan’s face behind her closed eyes, she thought that she would like this pleasant feeling to go on forever.

Masla had wasted no time in picking up the unconscious princess and carrying her to safety. Bounding through the castle at great speed, he cut down two or three enemy soldiers who tried to prevent him from passing. By the time he allowed himself to succumb to fatigue and stop for a rest, he had already crossed the border into the neighboring country. The resting spot he chose was a grassy clearing in a bamboo forest. The moon was already high in the sky. After gently lowering the princess onto the grass, Masla sat down and drew a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He sat gazing intently at the princess’s face, illuminated by the moonlight that shone intermittently through the bamboo trees swaying in the night breeze.

Beautiful. What a beautiful face.

Masla continued to gaze adoringly at the princess’s face under the pale light of the moon. Her soft, delicately shaped lips were curved in a slight smile, and it looked as if she were about to speak.

How happy I am to see her safe. Ah, I am so relieved.

At this moment, Masla was beside himself with joy over having brought Princess Sondari to safety—even if rescuing her had meant abandoning all else, including his king and the castle.

How long has it been since I first pledged myself to her? It had been for the sake of the princess that he had honed his skills with the sword. His military exploits had also been for her sake. Masla remembered how he had even put up with listening to the tedious preaching of monks like the disagreeable Sakyamuni and the one called Anan, just to please the princess. Day in and day out, Masla had never stopped thinking of Princess Sondari, and he was determined to do whatever it took—to undergo any hardship—to win the princess’s hand.

For Masla, there was no God or Buddha. To achieve his aspirations required brute force and determination, using the abilities he had within him. The only way for him to advance his standing and fulfill his desires was to become stronger and more skillful. He had advanced step by step, until finally he became the highest ranking warrior in the country. It was his goal to become a person indispensable to his country. Once he had achieved that, he would submit his request to the king. If he climbed one step higher, he would become a minister with the power to influence affairs of state, and in that position he would have the rightful status to ask for the princess’s hand in marriage. In fact, he might even one day succeed the king, who was without a male heir. Unfortunately for Masla, his hopes had started to fade rapidly in the past two or three years—all because of the Buddhist ideas that Sakyamuni and his disciples were spreading.

Do not answer hatred with hatred. Do not answer force with force. Those who bear hatred will receive hatred in return. Those who use force will in turn be pursued by force. For as long as such acts are repeated, human beings will never be freed from pain and suffering.

King Aiku had become an enthusiastic devotee of this teaching of karmic cause and effect, and as a result, he changed his way of governing the country. Putting down the sword in favor of the pen, he turned from waging war to an ideology of harmony. People versed in literature and the arts rose to prominence, rather than warriors like Masla. When he was just one step away from realizing his ambitions, Masla’s dreams were dashed to the ground.

The anger that Masla felt was directed at the king and his senior statesmen. At the same time, he harbored an even stronger rage toward Sakyamuni and his disciples. He came dangerously close to plotting a rebellion, and it was only his love for Princess Sondari that restrained him. Now, however, everything had suddenly changed. An invasion by a hostile country was facilitated by the betrayal of a disenchanted warrior who, like Masla, had lost hope in the future. The result was a crushing defeat for King Aiku, who had urged his countrymen to follow the principle of nonresistance.

Fools!

As he gazed at the princess’s profile, Masla began to feel like everything that had happened up to now was all part of a dream. He no longer felt angry about the stupidity of the king and his statesmen.

There is a great wide world awaiting me now. Their foolish ideas about nonresistance have actually worked in my favor. Here before me, I have a flower that I can reach out and touch anytime—a gently blooming flower that I can pluck whenever I wish.

Masla was at the height of jubilation, with the greatest confidence in his abilities. No matter what country I go to, a fine warrior like me will surely be welcomed, he thought. And what’s more… Cutting short the rapture of these musings, a soft, sweet sound flowed from the lips of the princess.

Anan-sama, Anan Sonja-sama, I am so ashamed to be seen like this.

Masla rose to his feet with a start. With every drop of blood in his body suddenly boiling with anger, he took hold of the princess’s shoulders.

Your Highness! Princess Sondari!

With this, the princess was jolted awake. She became fully conscious and opened her clear, dark eyes.

Oh…it’s you, Masla.

Her eyes opened wider in surprise. She quickly sat up and asked, Where am I? Where is my father? What happened to the castle…?

Your honorable father has died in battle, and the castle has fallen to the enemy. I came to your aid, and we have escaped this far.

Even as Masla gazed at the princess and followed the movements of her eyes, his jealousy toward Anan enraged him and made it difficult even to breathe.

Where are we?

I cannot say for sure. All I know is that we are outside the borders of our country.

The princess gradually calmed down and regained the reserved manner that exists between royalty and their retainers. As her manner changed, Masla also naturally reverted to this long-established, customary relationship. Unsettled by the tremors in his heart each time the princess looked his way, Masla said, Your Highness, let us start looking for a place to stay. I don’t think you are in any state to sleep outdoors. He rose to his feet and stretched in a deliberate manner, looking towards the moonlight.

Though Princess Sondari heard Masla’s words, they passed through her mind without registering. The princess was absorbed in a single thought—Anan. She had felt disappointed when she realized it was Masla, her father’s retainer, who had saved her life, and not Anan. Ashamed that, in her dream-like stupor, she had convinced herself that Anan had rescued her, she was painfully reproached by a complex feeling that stemmed from her disappointment—a feeling that was neither anger nor sadness.

Were the words of Seson all untrue? He always told us: ‘Those who believe in Buddha and harbor no doubts about Buddha’s teachings shall be uplifted from their confusion.’ Anan, who came to visit many times on Seson’s behalf, spoke in the same way. My father believed deeply in those words and faithfully practiced Seson’s teachings, in his way of governing and in his private life, too. Yet now, in the end…

As she began to take in what Masla had told her, thoughts of Anan and Shakuson quickly vanished from the princess’s mind. With a violent shock and dizzying impact, her mind slammed into the reality that her father had met his end. Masla’s words, which she had carelessly ignored a moment before, now resounded clearly, as immovable fact, with a deafening roar that threatened to tear her apart.

Masla, you said my father is dead…and the castle has fallen to the enemy…? Murmuring these words as if in a state of delirium, Princess Sondari fell down lifeless onto the grass. Once again she lay still and unconscious.

Masla was startled. Crouching down by her side, he again lifted up the princess and carried her along, resuming the journey with long, powerful strides.

Once again, Masla felt buoyant about his hopes for the future. Right now he was the only person Princess Sondari had to rely on. To hell with Anan and Sakyamuni, he thought. How could their pompous preaching save the princess?! Far from it! It was their holier-than-thou teachings that led to the death of her father and brought the country to ruins. Just wait and see. With my own hands, I will smash their cursed order. There is no way the princess can remain devoted to a backstabber like Anan. Yes, starting tomorrow, I will put all my efforts into making things right.

As his spirits lifted, his pace quickened. His legs began to fly like the wind. The moon was growing strikingly brilliant in the night sky.

CHAPTER 2

Anan

ONE

Joining the other monks on their way to seek alms, Anan left the grounds of Gion Monastery. The singing of birds filled the air in the early morning light. These past few days, Anan knew, he had lacked the mind of a Buddhist monk innocently seeking alms; instead, his thoughts were straying, like a breeze rustling through the forest. His handsome face was clouded by a troubled expression, and his beautiful, almond-shaped eyes were downcast with a look of bewilderment. No matter how hard he tried, he could not dispel the relentless waves of sadness that kept sweeping over him.

A monk named Surada, who was older than Anan and who had once been a Brahmanist, placed his hand on Anan’s shoulder.

Anan, there is no use in wearing such a sad face. You are, after all, Seson’s beloved disciple. What happened to you was really nothing to worry about. Why should it be considered wrong for a man to fall in love with a woman? This is not something I should be saying out loud, but I think the rules are a little too strict. Even a brilliant and beloved disciple like you makes mistakes… Something like that could have happened to anybody. Try to cheer up a little, and let’s keep walking.

Anan turned and glared at Surada but said nothing. He could not help but feel strong disdain for a man who uttered such nonsense, and he almost felt like spitting at him. He may be older than I am, but how could a person like him understand my suffering?! What impudence! Quietly removing Surada’s hand from his shoulder, Anan quickly moved away.

The fact that there were many among Seson’s disciples whose state of mind never rose above such a base level was a source of continuing discontent for Anan.

Anan, you always seem to be high-minded and deep in thought. But considering your nature, I am not really sure. How long do you think you can carry on living the life of a monk? You’d probably be better off if you forgot all about being related to Seson and gave up being a monk—went back to worldly life. I myself am thinking of leaving this way of life to become a merchant or something like that. I want a more carefree life. With your good looks and that brilliant mind of yours, you could hold your own in any society and lead a life to be proud of...

With a rather cunning smile, Surada spoke as if trying to stir up Anan’s feelings of despair.

On the verge of exploding with anger, Anan tried to calm himself and instead responded with sarcasm. In a muffled voice he said, Surada, don’t misjudge me. I have entrusted my life to Seson. But if that’s how you feel, shall I tell Seson what you just said?

Hmmph... Surada strode off without a word.

Among the disciples who were former Brahmanists, many had no real intention of learning the Buddhist teachings. Their aim was to get close to Shakuson in order to acquire mystical powers. Surada was one of those disciples, and after several years in the order he had not acquired any such powers. Consequently, he was finding it difficult to keep up the rigors of Buddhist training under what he perceived as needlessly austere precepts.

What a foolish man! If there are too many like him among the disciples, they will sully the precious holy teachings of Seson.

Anan stopped and meditated for a while to calm his rising emotions. Although his agitation gradually receded, his mind was once again beset by heavy waves of sadness.

Maybe I am the one sullying the holy teachings of Seson. His introspection set off new waves of emotion, and he chastised himself as if he had committed an irreparable deed.

Why did I enter that room that day? Why was I so attracted to that vulgar woman, Matokajo? No matter how strong that wicked Shabira’s spell might have been, how was it possible for a disciple of Buddha to become such a slave to lust? Were it not for the divine power of Seson, who perceives when his disciples are in danger, and the powerful spiritual purification of the Monju Bodhisattva,¹ there is no doubt that I would have broken my vows and succumbed to that woman.

Anan recalled just how dangerously close he had come. Just in the brink of time, the fierce admonition by the Monju Bodhisattva, who appeared suddenly in mid-air, instantly broke the spell and woke Anan, dumbstruck, from the nightmare. The pitiful image of himself trembling in fear now reappeared in his mind and caused his steps to slow.

It was an unbearable humiliation for Anan to have to include himself among those who had blemished the holy name of Seson. His usually proud spirit was now plunged in the depths of self-abasement. Anan had felt embarrassed in front of all his fellow monks, particularly the senior disciples, and there were many days when he was even too ashamed to raise his face to look at them. He blamed and tormented himself for having such a weak character, and the distress that he felt enveloped his whole being and covered up his inner light, so that his mind now dwelled in a place separate from all the beauty of nature. In Anan’s mind, there were no cassia flowers blooming and no fragrant scent from the nassia blossoms around him. The blue of the sky was pale and distant, the singing of the birds all around him sounded like murmurings in a dream, and the heavy, ripe heads of the rice plants were as good to him as dead grass.

Anan started to walk toward the center of the town, but the burden that weighed on his heart made his legs feel heavy.

Where does this pain in my heart come from? As he walked, Anan recalled his meeting with Seson on the day following his humiliation.

Anan, I believe your mind and mine are the same, and the same moral code applies equally to both of us. I wonder what it was in my teachings that you found worthy and that prompted you to pursue a spiritual path. Why is it that you gave up the great favor and affection that had been given to you in your worldly life to become a monk?

Seson’s words were, as usual, tender and warm. Anan had been certain that he would face the wrath of Seson on that day, and he had braced himself for it. So, when Seson spoke to him in the same gentle manner as always, Anan felt somewhat confused, but he responded with all sincerity.

Seson, it is because I recognized in you the supreme beauty of the thirty-two distinctive signs of Nyorai. In your image, the image of holy Buddha, there was not the slightest shadow of desire or loss of composure. I saw that image shining pure and clear in a holy light of purplish gold. When I saw it, I knew that this society, which is plagued by all kinds of greed and desire, is not the true world. At that moment, I decided to follow the path of holy Buddha.

Anan, it is wonderful that you felt that way. But Anan, what part of you sensed the thirty-two distinctive signs of Nyorai and felt such admiration?

Seson, it was the eyes of my mind. I then determined that I would give my life and my death over to you.

So, Anan, where does your mind reside?

I believe that it resides within my body.

That is a little strange. If your mind exists within your body, you must know everything about what is inside your body. So, Anan, do you know everything about your body?

I see, Seson. The answer I just gave was wrong. I now realize that the reason I am able to hear the voice of Nyorai is because my mind is outside my body. Yes, it is outside my body. Suppose for example, I likened my mind to a lamp. If that lamp were lit inside a room, everything inside the room would be illuminated. But we human beings are not able to see inside our body. I think that is because there is no lamp casting light inside the ‘room’ of our body—the light exists outside the room. That is why I think my mind is outside of my body.

Then, Anan, if your mind, which perceived the thirty-two distinctive signs of Nyorai and decided to become my disciple, existed outside of your body, your mind would be separate from your body. If that were the case, your body would be unable to know what your mind had understood. Therefore, it cannot be true that the mind which perceives and recognizes things exists outside of the body.

Shakuson’s words retained their warm, gentle tone. Anan was unable to respond immediately and closed his eyes for a moment. Finally, he answered, "Seson, I believe that the mind which perceives and recognizes things is found in