Thus have I heard:
At one time, the Buddha was dwelling in the land of Kosambī, in the Ghositārāma.
At that time, the World-Honored One addressed the bhikkhus, saying:
“Because there are hands, one knows grasping and releasing;
because there are feet, one knows going and coming;
because there are joints, one knows bending and stretching;
because there is a belly, one knows hunger and thirst.
So too, bhikkhus, because there is the eye, eye-contact gives rise to feeling, and inwardly one experiences feeling as painful, pleasant, or neither painful nor pleasant.
The ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind are likewise.
“Bhikkhus, if there were no hands, one would not know grasping and releasing;
if there were no feet, one would not know going and coming;
if there were no joints, one would not know bending and stretching;
if there were no belly, one would not know hunger and thirst.
So too, bhikkhus, if there were no eye, there would be no eye-contact giving rise to feeling, and no inward experience of feeling as painful, pleasant, or neither painful nor pleasant.
The ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind are likewise.”
When the Buddha had spoken this sutta, the bhikkhus, having heard what the Buddha had said, rejoiced and respectfully put it into practice.
Conditions give rise to results.
To form a karmic connection is to create conditions.
When conditions exist, consequences inevitably follow.
Wholesome connections bring wholesome results.
To have affinity with a Bodhisattva leads to the fruition of Bodhi (enlightenment).
Few desires and non-striving lead to few worldly ties.
With no attachment and no self, there are no worldly ties at all.
All phenomena in the world arise in dependence upon conditions, and likewise must cease in dependence upon conditions; this is what is meant by “when conditions come together, there is arising; when conditions disperse, there is cessation.”
Omniscience takes non-self-nature as its object, right mindfulness as its predominant condition, tranquility as its mode of practice, and signlessness as its defining characteristic.
No preconceived opinions, no dogmatic certainty, no stubborn attachment, no self-centeredness.
No notion of a self, no notion of others, no notion of sentient beings, no notion of a lasting life.
When a peacock consumes poisonous spiders, its feathers grow ever more radiant;
when a venomous snake consumes the same poisonous spiders, it accumulates and produces even more poison within itself.
Though both come into contact with something toxic, their outcomes are utterly different because of their inner nature and mechanisms.
Human beings are no different.
When faced with malice and harm, to respond with violence is to be like the venomous snake—nourishing poison with poison and ultimately creating demonic karma.
But if one can maintain mindfulness and clear awareness amid negative actions, words, and thoughts, transforming harm into nourishment, then compassion and wisdom increase. This is to be like the peacock, even to walk the path of a bodhisattva.
For this reason, Buddhism often uses the peacock as a metaphor and an exemplar:
what matters is not whether one encounters “poison,” but how the mind transforms that poison.
After a great Dharma assembly, the Buddha led the disciples to receive offerings from King Prasenajit. Ānanda walked alone into the streets of Śrāvastī to beg for food. He walked for a long time, yet his alms bowl remained empty. Ānanda was hot, hungry, and thirsty. At that moment, he encountered a young woman drawing water by the riverside. Her name was Mātaṅgī, and she belonged to the Śūdra caste. Ānanda approached her with his bowl and begged her for water.
When Ānanda asked Mātaṅgī for water, she regarded herself as low-born and dared not offer water to him. Ānanda said, “The Buddha teaches that all four castes are equal. Though you are of the Śūdra caste, you may still offer food or drink to a bhikṣu.” Hearing this, Mātaṅgī joyfully poured water into Ānanda’s bowl.
Mātaṅgī developed a deep affection for Ānanda. She told her mother of her feelings and begged her mother to find a way for her to marry Ānanda.
Mātaṅgī’s mother conveyed her daughter’s wish to Ānanda. Ānanda replied, “Please tell your daughter that as one who has renounced the household life, I seek liberation from birth and death and to transcend the three realms. Desire and sensual attachment are the very roots of saṃsāra. The Buddha repeatedly instructs his disciples to stay far from sensual desire and to cultivate the pure Brahma-conduct. I will never take a wife.”
Her mother brought Ānanda’s words back to her daughter and urged her to abandon the thought. But Mātaṅgī refused to give up and incited her mother to use spells to lure Ānanda. When Ānanda once again passed their house on his alms round, her mother used sorcery to bewilder him. In a daze, he was drawn into Mātaṅgī’s home. Overjoyed, Mātaṅgī adorned herself beautifully and attempted to seduce him.
Ānanda realized that something was wrong and refused to yield. Mātaṅgī’s mother lit a fire at the doorway, pulled on Ānanda’s robe, and threatened, “If you do not obey, I will throw you into the flames!” At that moment, Ānanda focused his mind entirely on the Buddha. The Buddha, sensing Ānanda’s danger, immediately sent Mañjuśrī Bodhisattva to retrieve him from Mātaṅgī’s house, and instructed all the monks to wholeheartedly recite the Śūraṅgama Mantra. Just as Ānanda was about to violate his precepts, he suddenly regained clarity and immediately left Mātaṅgī.
But Mātaṅgī still refused to give up. She followed Ānanda every day. Wherever Ānanda went, she followed; when Ānanda returned to the monastery, she waited at the gate. Unable to endure the disturbance, Ānanda sought the Buddha’s help.
When the Buddha learned of this, he summoned Mātaṅgī to the monastery. He asked, “Why do you follow Ānanda every day?” Mātaṅgī replied, “Lord Buddha, I heard that Ānanda has no wife, and I too am unmarried. I want to marry Ānanda and become his wife.” The Buddha said, “Ānanda is a śramaṇa who has no hair. If you insist on marrying him, you must shave your head as he does. If you come with a shaven head, I will ask Ānanda to be your husband.” Mātaṅgī replied, “I will shave my head.”
She asked her mother to shave her hair, saying, “In life after life I am determined to be Ānanda’s wife; if not Ānanda, I will marry no one.” Her mother shaved her daughter’s beautiful hair while weeping. Mātaṅgī then returned to the monastery and told the Buddha, “I have shaved my head.” The Buddha asked, “Mātaṅgī, what is it that you love about Ānanda?” She replied, “I love Ānanda’s eyes, his nose, his mouth, his voice, and the way he walks.” She said, “In short, I love everything about Ānanda.”
The Buddha said, “A person’s eyes hold tears, the nose holds mucus, the mouth holds saliva, the ears hold wax, and the body holds excrement and urine—all of which are foul and impure. If two people become husband and wife, children will be born. Where there is birth, there will be death; and with death come the sorrows of separation from loved ones. Considering all this, what is there in Ānanda’s body that is truly worthy of love?”
Hearing the Buddha’s words, Mātaṅgī contemplated the impurity of the body. She realized that Ānanda’s body was no different—equally impure. What then was there to cling to? Her attachment and desire dissolved. Because of the maturity of her karmic and wisdom roots from past lives, she suddenly awakened and realized the first stage of sainthood.
Seeing that Mātaṅgī had attained a holy fruit, the Buddha told her she might now seek out Ānanda. Deeply ashamed, she bowed her head and knelt before the Buddha, saying, “In the past I was truly foolish to chase after Ānanda. Now, having heard the Buddha’s teachings on the truth of the Dharma, my mind is liberated.”
The Buddha said, “Mātaṅgī, in your past lives you were Ānanda’s wife for five hundred lifetimes. Throughout those five hundred lifetimes you treated each other with mutual respect, attachment, and affection. Now, having met again within my Dharma and precepts, you have together attained the path. In this present life, though you meet as husband and wife, you shall regard each other as siblings. In this way, what in the Buddha’s path could not be accomplished?”
After the Buddha finished teaching this sūtra, all the bhikṣus who heard it rejoiced.
From the Sūtra of Mātaṅgī (Modengnü Sūtra).
Non-attachment (Wú zhízhuó) is a concept rooted in Buddhism. It refers to a state in which one does not cling to anything—whether ideas, feelings, people, or objects—nor develops a strong sense of possession, fixation, or refusal to let go. Instead, one sees the true nature of things through wisdom, follows conditions without forcing outcomes, and remains free from suffering even when things change or are lost. As the Diamond Sutra says: “One should produce a mind that does not abide anywhere.”
Non-attachment is not passive giving up; rather, it is releasing the afflictions produced by clinging, keeping the mind free and clear, able to respond to life flexibly. It is a state of transcendence and liberation grounded in wisdom.
Letting Go:
Freeing oneself from the obsession with “me” or “mine,” not clinging to fame, gain and loss, love and hate, and so forth.
Wise Awareness:
Seeing through impermanence and emptiness with wisdom, understanding the true nature of things, and not being misled by appearances.
Non-discrimination:
Not developing strong preferences or aversions toward good or bad, beautiful or ugly, gain or loss; treating everything with an even mind.
Going with the Flow:
Acting according to natural conditions—doing one’s best without forcing results; not rejoicing excessively over gains nor grieving over losses.
Relationship to “Attachment”:
Attachment: A state of being overly invested, rigid, or unable to let go, often accompanied by affliction and suffering.
Non-attachment: The transcendence of attachment—choosing freedom after understanding how attachment binds and limits us.
Manifestations in Daily Life:
Freedom of Mind:
Enjoying good food without feeling miserable when it’s unavailable.
Liberation in Relationships:
Cherishing others without forcing them to conform to one’s expectations; not collapsing completely when a relationship ends.
Ease in Action:
Working diligently without letting workplace frustrations ruin the entire day.
Connection to Buddhist Scriptures:
Diamond Sutra:
“Its mind should not abide anywhere” encapsulates the essence of non-attachment, emphasizing that awareness should not cling to any object.
Platform Sutra:
The Sixth Patriarch Huineng further elaborates this idea, teaching that one’s true nature is originally pure and should not be stained by external conditions.
Non-attachment is a positive form of wisdom.
It teaches us to face everything in life with greater peace, freedom, and clarity, thereby attaining inner calm and joy.
“All the joy that exists in this world
comes entirely from wishing others to be happy;
all the suffering that exists in this world
comes entirely from wishing oneself to be happy.”
— Bodhisattva Shantideva
*Shantideva Bodhisattva, originally named Śāntaraksita (Jikai), was the crown prince of the ancient Indian kingdom of Xiangxiang, son of King Shankai. From a young age he studied the Dharma, possessed exceptional learning, and mastered both worldly knowledge and skilled arts. He was compassionate toward his attendants and all beings, and frequently practiced generosity. Under the yogi Guru Sulu he mastered the “Accomplishment Method of Manjushri’s Sharp Wisdom.” Later, after dreaming of a visionary initiation bestowed by Manjushri or Tara, he renounced the throne and left home to become a monk.
He served as a minister to the King of the Five Lions Kingdom and displayed miracles to guide the royal family. He later took full ordination at Nālandā Monastery, receiving the Dharma name Shantideva.
The original meaning of Āraṇya is “forest,” and by extension it refers to a “quiet place,” “secluded place,” “place of withdrawal,” or “place free of affairs.”
Monks who practice the dhutaṅga ascetic practices usually build small huts on open land outside villages, or they may construct no dwelling at all and instead stay beneath large trees. Such places serve as pure and peaceful sites for cultivation, away from the bustle of human activity. Cemeteries and other locations commonly shunned or avoided by ordinary people are also often used as āraṇya. Therefore these practitioners are also called Āraṇya Bhikkhus, or “forest monks.”
In Theravāda Buddhist countries such as Sri Lanka, Myanmar, and Thailand, forest monks and their traditions have been preserved up to the present. For example, the renowned Thai master Ajahn Chah and his disciples belong to the Thai forest lineage.
Āraṇya is thus the traditional designation for the dwelling of Buddhist monastics. In Chinese Buddhism, the term was extended to mean various kinds of monasteries. The “Chan grove system”—also known as the “forest monastery system”—takes its meaning from this concept.
Paṃsukūla robes (literally “rag robes”) refer to robes made from discarded cloth—old, torn garments thrown onto rubbish heaps. Monks pick up these cast-off pieces and sew them together to make their kāṣāya (robes).
The Buddha instructed his disciples to wear paṃsukūla robes in order to guard against attachment and to strengthen the aspiration for the path. In the Bhikkhu Vinaya, this is included under the “four reliances” (catuparisudha-sīla): reliance on paṃsukūla robes, reliance on almsfood, reliance on dwelling beneath trees, and reliance on fermented medicinal substances.
The Mahāsāṃghika Vinaya, fascicle 16, states:
“Paṃsukūla robes are those worn-out garments discarded in alleys and lanes. One should take them, cleanse them, mend them, dye them, and then receive and use them. These are called paṃsukūla robes.”
Only after a bhikkhu has washed, dyed, and transformed such cloth into the color of the monastic robe may it be used.
The Dharmaguptaka Vinaya (Sifenlü) lists ten types of paṃsukūla cloth:
garments chewed by cows, gnawed by rats, burned by fire, stained by menstrual blood, garments of women who have given birth, garments from shrines, garments from cemeteries, garments offered in fulfillment of vows, garments used in comings and goings, and garments from officials of the king.
The Daśādhyāya Vinaya (Shisonglü) lists four types: shrouds from cemeteries, cloth wrapped around corpses brought and offered to monks, ownerless cloth, and cloth buried in the earth.
The Sifenlü Xingshichao – On the Two Types of Robes says:
“These are items discarded by the world, no longer of any use, and their meaning accords with that of ‘filth and sweepings.’ The treatise says:
(1) their nature is base, thus freeing one from personal attachment;
(2) they are not coveted by kings or thieves, so they reliably support one’s body and the long pursuit of the path.
Moreover, they accord with the ideals of few desires and simplicity, and help one endure bodily hardship; therefore, noble practitioners wear them.”
The Daśabhūmika Vibhāṣā Śāstra states:
“Wearing paṃsukūla robes has ten benefits:
1. One does not, because of robes, form attachments with householders.
2. One visibly manifests the practice of seeking discarded cloth.
3. One avoids the need to contrive or explain ways of obtaining robes.
4. One refrains from improper solicitation in the four directions.
5. If robes cannot be obtained, one has no anxiety.
6. If robes are obtained, one feels no elation.
7. They are base materials easily obtained and free of faults.
8. They accord with the original acceptance of the four ascetic practices.
9. They are counted among coarse robes.
10. They are not objects that others covet or steal.”
A turtle lay by the riverbank. A fox came running over, wanting to eat it. The turtle withdrew its head, tail, and four limbs into its shell, and the fox could not bite it. The fox waited for a long time, but the turtle remained hidden in its shell, so the fox had no choice but to leave.
If a person can restrain the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—so that the six sense faculties and their mental activities are not allowed to roam freely—then afflictions will not be able to take advantage of any weakness. It is just like the turtle guarding its own life.
— Saṃyukta Āgama