#Linked Discourses 15

The bones you’ve left behind in transmigration are greater than a mountain.At one time the Buddha was staying near Rājagaha, on the Vulture’s Peak Mountain. There the Buddha addressed the mendicants, “Mendicants!” “Venerable sir,” they replied. The Buddha said this: “Mendicants, transmigration has no known beginning. … One person roaming and transmigrating for an eon would amass a heap of bones the size of this Mount Vepulla, if they were gathered together and not lost. [Read More]

Like a stick falling on this side or that, beings are reborn in different realms.At Sāvatthī. “Mendicants, transmigration has no known beginning. No first point is found of sentient beings roaming and transmigrating, hindered by ignorance and fettered by craving. Suppose a stick was tossed up in the air. Sometimes it’d fall on its bottom, sometimes the middle, and sometimes the top. It’s the same for sentient beings roaming and transmigrating, hindered by ignorance and fettered by craving. [Read More]

There have been more eons than the sands in the Ganges river.Near Rājagaha, in the Bamboo Grove. Then a certain brahmin went up to the Buddha, and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he sat down to one side and asked the Buddha, “Sir, how many eons have passed?” “Brahmin, many eons have passed. It’s not easy to calculate how many eons have passed, how many hundreds or thousands or hundreds of thousands of eons. [Read More]

Even recollecting 100,000 eons per day you’ll never remember the beginning of transmigration.At Sāvatthī. Then several mendicants went up to the Buddha … and asked him, “Sir, how many eons have passed?” “Mendicants, many eons have passed. It’s not easy to calculate how many eons have passed, how many hundreds or thousands or hundreds of thousands of eons.” “But sir, is it possible to give a simile?” “It’s possible,” said the Buddha. [Read More]

A city filled with mustard seeds might be emptied before the end of an eon.At Sāvatthī. Then a mendicant went up to the Buddha … and asked him, “Sir, how long is an eon?” “Mendicant, an eon is long. It’s not easy to calculate how many years, how many hundreds or thousands or hundreds of thousands of years it lasts.” “But sir, is it possible to give a simile?” “It’s possible,” said the Buddha. [Read More]

A great mountain would erode before the end of the eon.At Sāvatthī. Then a mendicant went up to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and asked him, “Sir, how long is an eon?” “Mendicant, an eon is long. It’s not easy to calculate how many years, how many hundreds or thousands or hundreds of thousands of years it lasts.” “But sir, is it possible to give a simile?” “It’s possible,” said the Buddha. [Read More]

The mother’s milk you have drunk in transmigration is greater than the waters in the oceans.At Sāvatthī. “Mendicants, transmigration has no known beginning. No first point is found of sentient beings roaming and transmigrating, hindered by ignorance and fettered by craving. What do you think? Which is more: the mother’s milk you’ve drunk while roaming and transmigrating for such a very long time, or the water in the four oceans?” “As we understand the Buddha’s teaching, the mother’s milk we’ve drunk while roaming and transmigrating is more than the water in the four oceans. [Read More]

The tears you have shed in transmigration are greater than the waters in the oceans.At Sāvatthī. “Mendicants, transmigration has no known beginning. No first point is found of sentient beings roaming and transmigrating, hindered by ignorance and fettered by craving. What do you think? Which is more: the flow of tears you’ve shed while roaming and transmigrating for such a very long time—weeping and wailing from being united with the unloved and separated from the loved—or the water in the four oceans? [Read More]

Transmigration is endless, like the great earth.At Sāvatthī. “Mendicants, transmigration has no known beginning. No first point is found of sentient beings roaming and transmigrating, hindered by ignorance and fettered by craving. Suppose a person was to make the whole earth into clay balls the size of jujube seeds. They’d lay them down, saying: ‘This is my father, this is my grandfather.’ The whole earth would run out before that person’s fathers and grandfathers. [Read More]

Transmigration is endless, like the grass and twigs in India.So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. There the Buddha addressed the mendicants, “Mendicants!” “Venerable sir,” they replied. The Buddha said this: “Mendicants, transmigration has no known beginning. No first point is found of sentient beings roaming and transmigrating, hindered by ignorance and fettered by craving. Suppose a person was to strip all the grass, sticks, branches, and leaves in India, gather them together into one pile, and chop them each into four inch pieces. [Read More]