The Dhammapada Book Buddhism Discussion I will post requirement, book, and essay sample Please totally follow it 800-1000 words we use turnitin so 100% or

The Dhammapada Book Buddhism Discussion I will post requirement, book, and essay sample Please totally follow it

800-1000 words we use turnitin so 100% original

There are two topic options in requirement. Please choose option 2 and sample is from option 2. You can find a paragraph from material and explain. Then use other content from material to support. I hope I explained the requirement well.

Sample of option 2 comes with prof’s comment, so you will know what our prof. want and just follow it.

Please do the right cite work and format

(There are Paper 1 and Paper 3, You did paper 2 last time which was really good. So I hope you can do me a paper 1 and paper 3. Paper 3 need to be done twice. Because my friend also need your work. Then you choose two different topic for paper 3) Philosophy 7: Asian Philosophy (Spring 2019)
Paper Guidelines
Paper #1: Hinduism
Choose something central to the Hindu texts we read: something that interests you, or
confuses you, or arouses wonder in you, etc.—something that you care about.
and
Analyze and explain it as thoroughly and precisely as you can, staying close to the text
(see more below), providing your own illuminating examples to aid your explanation.
You may choose one from the following three options:
1) an idea or concept (e.g., Atman, Samsara, Karma)*
2) a mahavakya (e.g., tat tvam asi—“you are that”) [see Hindu terms handout for all 4
mahavakyas]
3) a passage from a particular Upanishad or from the Bhagavad Gita.
I want you to try to capture the essence of what you choose. You might imagine that what
you are trying to do is teach someone what the idea/concept, mahavakya, or passage means
within the context of Hinduism.
I am looking for in-depth and detailed analysis/explanation.
*If you choose 1: All of the ideas we have learned interpenetrate. You won’t be able to
talk about one concept without talking about all (or at least most) of them. But try to
focus your efforts on one, like Atman, or on a small grouping, like the relationship
between Karma, Dharma, and Samsara.
Paper Details
Due Date
Thursday, February 21st on Canvas
Paper Length
2.5 – 3.5 full pages of text (“full” counting from the place on the page that your first
paragraph begins, not the top of the piece of paper)
Paper Format
Double-spaced
12-point font (use a standard font, of your choice, but nothing difficult to read, please)
1” margins
Terminology
Make sure your paper utilizes terminology and concepts appropriate to Hinduism.
Philosophical writing and reflection needs to be attentive to the specific weight that
concepts have, and work that concepts do, within a philosopher’s thinking. Obviously,
we are not dealing with an author but a set of ideas; make sure you are able to explain
1
Philosophy 7: Asian Philosophy (Spring 2019)
Paper Guidelines
the concept/idea you choose within the full context of Hindu thought, employing
appropriate Hindu terminology.
Textual Evidence/Citations
I expect you to use the text, which means: offer quotes from the text that support your
explanation. You may use The Upanishads and/or The Bhagavad Gita freely. Please
simply cite parenthetically within the body of your text (no footnotes), using the
following model (note that the title of an Upanishad are italicized, but the Bhagavad
Gita, like the Bible, is not):
For The Upanishads = (Name of Upanishad, page #). E.g.: (Mundaka, 186).
The line and verse numbers are often confusing within individual Upanishads, so since
we all used the same edition, please just give the page number.
For The Bhagavad Gita = (BG, verse #:line #). E.g.: (BG, 6:29).
Since most students seem to be completely oblivious when it comes to in-text,
parenthetical citations, here is a paradigm to follow, in terms of grammar and
punctuation:
…Krishna tells Arjuna, “quit your whining, you big baby” (BG, 2:12). [not a real quote]
The quotation marks designate only the quoted text, and the period goes at the end of
the sentence, after the parentheses. This is a rule that far too many students do not know
and/or follow. (And periods and commas go inside double-quotation marks).
****YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO USE OR CITE OUTSIDE SOURCES****
Final Comments
I will be grading these papers with an eye toward their execution and presentation, which
includes grammar, syntax, spelling, punctuation, etc. This is an “execution-based”
assignment (see Syllabus).
Likewise, I am looking for you to strive to articulate yourself clearly and with precision.
Admittedly, this is not an easy task when it comes to philosophical issues and especially
to ideas that exist beyond “name and form”—it takes practice and effort. I don’t expect any
of you to be the next Shankara, but I am looking to see genuine effort to really grapple with
the text, make important connections, follow the movement of its thinking, and attempt
to offer an explanation that goes beyond a superficial reading.
If you struggle with writing, seek help at the University Writing Center:
https://pennstatelearning.psu.edu/tutoring/writing
Make sure you hand in a proofread, polished, college-level essay!
Good luck writing!
2
The Bhagavad Gita
Introduced & Translated by
E KNAT H E AS WAR AN
Chapter Introductions
by Diane Morrison
On this path effort never goes to waste, and there is no failure. Even a little effort toward spiritual
awareness will protect you from the greatest fear.
[2:40 ]
N I LG I R I P R E S S
© 1985, 2007 by The Blue Mountain Center of Meditation
All rights reserved. Second edition.
Print book ISBN 978–1–58638–019–9
E-book ISBN 978–1–58638–023–6
Library of Congress Control Number: 2006934966
20110513
Eknath Easwaran founded the Blue Mountain Center of Meditation in Berkeley, California, in 1961. The Center is a
nonprofit organization chartered with carrying on Easwaran’s legacy and work. Nilgiri Press, a department of the
Center, publishes books on how to lead a spiritual life in the home and community. The Center also teaches
Easwaran’s program of passage meditation at retreats.
For information please visit www.easwaran.org,
call us at 800 475 2369 (US) or 707 878 2369
(international and local), or write to us at
The Blue Mountain Center of Meditation,
Box 256, Tomales, CA 94971–0256, USA.
Table of Contents
Foreword
Introduction
1 The War Within
2 Self-Realization
3 Selfless Service
4 Wisdom in Action
5 Renounce & Rejoice
6 The Practice of Meditation
7 Wisdom from Realization
8 The Eternal Godhead
9 The Royal Path
10 Divine Splendor
11 The Cosmic Vision
12 The Way of Love
13 The Field & the Knower
14 The Forces of Evolution
15 The Supreme Self
16 Two Paths
17 The Power of Faith
18 Freedom & Renunciation
Notes
Glossary
Index
Foreword
The Classics of
Indian Spirituality
Imagine a vast hall in Anglo-Saxon England, not long after the passing of King Arthur. It is the
dead of winter and a fierce snowstorm rages outside, but a great fire fills the space within the
hall with warmth and light. Now and then, a sparrow darts in for refuge from the weather. It
appears as if from nowhere, flits about joyfully in the light, and then disappears again, and
where it comes from and where it goes next in that stormy darkness, we do not know.
Our lives are like that, suggests an old story in Bede’s medieval history of England. We
spend our days in the familiar world of our five senses, but what lies beyond that, if anything,
we have no idea. Those sparrows are hints of something more outside – a vast world,
perhaps, waiting to be explored. But most of us are happy to stay where we are. We may even
be a bit afraid to venture into the unknown. What would be the point, we ask. Why should we
leave the world we know?
Yet there are always a few who are not content to spend their lives indoors. Simply
knowing there is something unknown beyond their reach makes them acutely restless. They
have to see what lies outside – if only, as George Mallory said of Everest, “because it’s
there.”
This is true of adventurers of every kind, but especially of those who seek to explore not
mountains or jungles but consciousness itself: whose real drive, we might say, is not so much
to know the unknown as to know the knower. Such men and women can be found in every age
and every culture. While the rest of us stay put, they quietly slip out to see what lies beyond.
Then, so far as we can tell, they disappear. We have no idea where they have gone; we
can’t even imagine. But every now and then, like friends who have run off to some exotic
land, they send back reports: breathless messages describing fantastic adventures, rambling
letters about a world beyond ordinary experience, urgent telegrams begging us to come and
see. “Look at this view! Isn’t it breathtaking? Wish you could see this. Wish you were here.”
The works in this set of translations – the Upanishads, the Bhagavad Gita, and the
Dhammapada – are among the earliest and most universal of messages like these, sent to
inform us that there is more to life than the everyday experience of our senses. The
Upanishads are the oldest, so varied that we feel some unknown collectors must have tossed
into a jumble all the photos, postcards, and letters from this world that they could find,
without any regard for source or circumstance. Thrown together like this, they form a kind of
ecstatic slide show – snapshots of towering peaks of consciousness taken at various times by
different observers and dispatched with just the barest kind of explanation. But those who
have traveled those heights will recognize the views: “Oh, yes, that’s Everest from the
northwest – must be late spring. And here we’re south, in the full snows of winter.”
The Dhammapada, too, is a collection – traditionally, sayings of the Buddha, one of the
very greatest of these explorers of consciousness. In this case the messages have been sorted,
but not by a scheme that makes sense to us today. Instead of being grouped by theme or topic,
they are gathered according to some dominant characteristic like a symbol or metaphor –
flowers, birds, a river, the sky – that makes them easy to commit to memory. If the Upanishads
are like slides, the Dhammapada seems more like a field guide. This is lore picked up by
someone who knows every step of the way through these strange lands. He can’t take us there,
he explains, but he can show us the way: tell us what to look for, warn about missteps, advise
us about detours, tell us what to avoid. Most important, he urges us that it is our destiny as
human beings to make this journey ourselves. Everything else is secondary.
And the third of these classics, the Bhagavad Gita, gives us a map and guidebook. It gives a
systematic overview of the territory, shows various approaches to the summit with their
benefits and pitfalls, offers recommendations, tells us what to pack and what to leave behind.
More than either of the others, it gives the sense of a personal guide. It asks and answers the
questions that you or I might ask – questions not about philosophy or mysticism, but about
how to live effectively in a world of challenge and change. Of these three, it is the Gita that
has been my own personal guidebook, just as it was Mahatma Gandhi’s.
These three texts are very personal records of a landscape that is both real and universal.
Their voices, passionately human, speak directly to you and me. They describe the
topography of consciousness itself, which belongs as much to us today as to these largely
anonymous seers thousands of years ago. If the landscape seems dark in the light of sense
perception, they tell us, it has an illumination of its own, and once our eyes adjust we can see
in what Western mystics call this “divine dark” and verify their descriptions for ourselves.
And this world, they insist, is where we belong. This wider field of consciousness is our
native land. We are not cabin-dwellers, born to a life cramped and confined; we are meant to
explore, to seek, to push the limits of our potential as human beings. The world of the senses
is just a base camp: we are meant to be as much at home in consciousness as in the world of
physical reality.
This is a message that thrills men and women in every age and culture. It is for such
kindred spirits that these texts were originally composed, and it is for them in our own time
that I undertook these translations, in the conviction that they deserve an audience today as
much as ever. If these books speak to even a handful of such readers, they will have served
their purpose.
Introduction
The Bhagavad Gita
Many years ago, when I was still a graduate student, I traveled by train from central India to
Simla, then the summer seat of the British government in India. We had not been long out of
Delhi when suddenly a chattering of voices disturbed my reverie. I asked the man next to me
if something had happened. “Kurukshetra!” he replied. “The next stop is Kurukshetra!”
I could understand the excitement. Kurukshetra, “the field of the Kurus,” is the setting for
the climactic battle of the Mahabharata, the vastest epic in any world literature, on which
virtually every Hindu child in India is raised. Its characters, removed in time by some three
thousand years, are as familiar to us as our relatives. The temper of the story is utterly
contemporary; I can imagine it unfolding in the nuclear age as easily as in the dawn of Indian
history. The Mahabharata is literature at its greatest – in fact, it has been called a literature
in itself, comparable in its breadth and depth and characterization to the whole of Greek
literature or Shakespeare. But what makes it unique is that embedded in this literary
masterpiece is one of the finest mystical documents the world has seen: the Bhagavad Gita.
I must have heard the Gita recited thousands of times when I was growing up, but I don’t
suppose it had any special significance for me then. Not until I went to college and met
Mahatma Gandhi did I begin to understand why nothing in the long, rich stretch of Indian
culture has had a wider appeal, not only within India but outside as well. Today, after more
than thirty years of devoted study, I would not hesitate to call it India’s most important gift to
the world. The Gita has been translated into every major language and perhaps a hundred
times into English alone; commentaries on it are said to be more numerous than on any other
scripture. Like the Sermon on the Mount, it has an immediacy that sweeps away time, place,
and circumstance. Addressed to everyone, of whatever background or status, the Gita distills
the loftiest truths of India’s ancient wisdom into simple, memorable poetry that haunts the
mind and informs the affairs of everyday life.
Everyone in our car got down from the train to wander for a few minutes on the now
peaceful field. Thousands of years ago this was Armageddon. The air rang with the conchhorns and shouts of battle for eighteen days. Great phalanxes shaped like eagles and fish and
the crescent moon surged back and forth in search of victory, until in the end almost every
warrior in the land lay slain.
“Imagine!” my companion said to me in awe. “Bhishma and Drona commanded their
armies here. Arjuna rode here, with Sri Krishna himself as his charioteer. Where you’re
standing now – who knows? – Arjuna might have sat, his bow and arrows on the ground,
while Krishna gave him the words of the Bhagavad Gita.”
The thought was thrilling. I felt the way Schliemann must have when he finally reached that
desolate bluff of western Turkey and knew he was standing “on the ringing plains of windy
Troy,” walking the same ground as Achilles, Odysseus, Hector, and Helen. Yet at the same
time, I felt I knew the setting of the Gita much more intimately than I could ever know this
peaceful field. The battlefield is a perfect backdrop, but the Gita’s subject is the war within,
the struggle for self-mastery that every human being must wage if he or she is to emerge from
life victorious.
THE GITA AND ITS SETTING
Historians surmise that like the Iliad, the Mahabharata might well be based on actual events,
culminating in a war that took place somewhere around 1000 B.C. – close, that is, to the very
dawn of recorded Indian history. This guess has recently been supported by excavations at the
ancient city of Dvaraka, which, according to the Mahabharata, was destroyed and submerged
in the sea after the departure of its divine ruler, Krishna. Only five hundred years or so before
this, by generally accepted guess, Aryan tribes originally from the area between the Caspian
Sea and the Hindu Kush mountains had migrated into the Indian subcontinent, bringing the
prototype of the Sanskrit language and countless elements of belief and culture that have been
part of the Hindu tradition ever since. The oldest part of the most ancient of Hindu scriptures,
the Rig Veda, dates from this period – about 1500 B.C., if not earlier.
Yet the wellspring of Indian religious faith, I believe, can be traced to a much earlier
epoch. When the Aryans entered the Indian subcontinent through the mountains of the Hindu
Kush, they encountered a civilization on the banks of the Indus river that archeologists date
back as far as 3000 B.C. Roughly contemporaneous with the pyramid-builders on the Nile,
these Indus-dwellers achieved a comparable level of technology. They had metalworkers
skilled in sheet-making, riveting, and casting of copper and bronze, crafts and industries with
standardized methods of production, land and sea trade with cultures as far away as
Mesopotamia, and well-planned cities with water supply and public sanitation systems
unequaled until the Romans. Evidence suggests that they may have used a decimal system of
measurement. But most remarkable, images of Shiva as Yogeshvara, the Lord of Yoga, suggest
that meditation was practiced in a civilization which flourished a millennium before the
Vedas were committed to an oral tradition.
If this is so, it would imply that the same systematic attitude the Indus Valley dwellers
applied to their technology was applied also to study of the mind. This was brahmavidya, the
“supreme science” – supreme because where other sciences studied the external world,
brahmavidya sought knowledge of an underlying reality which would inform all other studies
and activities.
Whatever its origins, in the early part of the first millennium B.C. we find clearly stated
both the methods and the discoveries of brahmavidya. With this introspective tool the inspired
rishis (literally “seers”) of ancient India analyzed their awareness of human experience to see
if there was anything in it that was absolute. Their findings can be summarized in three
statements which Aldous Huxley, following Leibnitz, has called the Perennial Philosophy
because they appear in every age and civilization: (1) there is an infinite, changeless reality
beneath the world of change; (2) this same reality lies at the core of every human personality;
(3) the purpose of life is to discover this reality experientially: that is, to realize God while
here on earth. These principles and the interior experiments for realizing them were taught
systematically in “forest academies” or ashrams – a tradition which continues unbroken after
some three thousand years.
The discoveries of brahmavidya were systematically committed to memory (and eventually
to writing) in the Upanishads, visionary documents that are the earliest and purest statement of
the Perennial Philosophy. How many of these precious records once existed no one knows; a
dozen that date from Vedic times have survived as part of the Hindu canon of authority, the
four Vedas. All have one unmistakable hallmark: the vivid stamp of personal mystical
experience. These are records of direct encounter with the divine. Tradition calls them
shruti: literally “heard,” as opposed to learned; they are their own authority. By convention,
only the Vedas (including their Upanishads) are considered shruti, based on direct knowledge
of God.
According to this definition, all other Indian scriptures – including the Gita – are
secondary, dependent on the higher authority of the Vedas. However, this is a conventional
distinction and one that might disguise the nature of the documents it classifies. In the literal
sense the Gita too is shruti, owing its authority not to other scriptures but to the fact that it set
down the direct mystical experience of a single author. Shankara, a towering mystic of the
ninth century A.D. whose word carries the authority of Augustine, Eckhart, and Aquinas all in
one, must have felt this, for in selecting the mi…
Purchase answer to see full
attachment