The Importance of Laughter

Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.

Pablo Neruda (1904 – 1973)

Psychologist Robert Provine’s theory is that, “Laughter is a mechanism everyone has. It is a part of universal human vocabulary. There are thousands of languages, hundreds of thousands of dialects, but everyone speaks laughter in pretty much the same way.” Babies have the ability to laugh before they ever speak. Children who are born blind and deaf still retain the ability to laugh. In other words, when you have very little else, you will still have the ability to laugh.

One Australian aboriginal creation myth believed that, in the beginning, we were all sleeping and dreaming, and the world was silent and empty. The first thing to awake was a rainbow serpent, and she emerged from the ground. She started waking creatures up, one by one, starting with the frogs. Still, she realized that this new world needed water, all of which was contained in the bellies of the frogs. Therefore, the serpent quickly came up with a solution.

The rainbow serpent tickled the frogs until they all began to laugh. Because they laughed so hard, the frogs began to cough up water. The water flowed, creating plants and awakening many other animals. Any animal who kept the laws the rainbow serpent laid out would become a human, whereas anyone who broke the laws became stones, which we see all over Australia today.

God has a smile on His face.

Psalm 42:5

Another Aboriginal myth says that a long time ago, only the moon and stars lighted the Earth. No one had ever felt the warmth or seen the light of the sun. The spirits who lived in the sky looked down on all the birds and beasts, concerned that the creatures were not happy. One day they decided that the world needed more light. So they collected wood and began to stack higher and higher and higher. When the wood was stacked so high they could no longer see the top, the spirits light a fire.

“The creatures of the Earth will delight in our light,” the spirits said, “but we must announce its arrival.” The spirits sent a star out into the sky — the first morning star — and instructed it to announce the arrival of the light that would soon warm the world. The star shimmered and sparkled, but few noticed it there in the dimly lighted sky, and when the birds and beasts first saw the light of the great fire, they were so shocked that many of them died of fright.

The spirits then decided they must need a noise to announce the dawn. Something loud. Something unusual, something startling. They began to consider the creatures one by one. Should the crane be granted the power to wake the world? What sounds could other creatures make that might wake everyone? Perhaps the bandicoot could loudly squeak, or the lorikeet could screech. Maybe the kangaroo could make a sound, or even the platypus. It was very confusing. All the creatures of this Earth were special, but how would they decide who would be granted this honor?

Then one day, just after the morning star began to shine, the spirits heard a most amazing sound. Kookaburra peered down at the ground and spied a mouse. He launched himself from his perch in the treetops and pounced upon that mouse, and when he had conquered his prey, he began to laugh. It was a sound like no other. When the spirits heard that sound, they knew that Kookaburra must become the world’s morning trumpeter. That very night the spirits visited Kookaburra in his home inside the gum tree. “Kookaburra,” they said, “every day, just as the morning star begins to fade, you will laugh as loudly as you can. It is your laughter that will wake all the sleepers before our fire lights the sky.”

Kookaburra realized that he could become a hero. He would be important and respected. So the very next day, just as the morning star began to fade, Kookaburra looked up at the sky and began to laugh. When the spirits heard that sound, they lighted their fire and slowly the Earth below began to glow from the light above. The warmth seeped down slowly, building as the fire blazed higher and higher. The flames leapt higher and burned for many hours. And then the fire began to die until, at long last, only embers remained, and the day grew dim at first, and then darkness came again.

The spirits gathered the last of the embers in the clouds, and used these to start their fire the next day, just after they heard Kookaburra’s laugh. Many years later, Kookaburra laughed loudly every morning, and every morning the spirits lighted the fire to warm the Earth below. When the Creator brought people into the world, the spirits instructed them to never tease Kookaburra. The elders instructed their children, “If Kookaburra hears you making fun of him, he will never laugh again. Then we will no longer have light or warmth.” So all the people learned, just as the beasts and birds had learned, that Kookaburra must be respected because he saved the light for all.

When you realize how perfect everything is you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky.

Buddha

Aboriginal Australians comprise many distinct peoples who have developed across Australia for over 50,000 years. The stories enshrined in Aboriginal mythology variously tell significant truths within each Aboriginal group’s local landscape, effectively layer the whole of the Australian continent’s topography with cultural nuance and deeper meaning and empower its listeners with the accumulated wisdom and knowledge of Australian Aboriginal ancestors back to time immemorial.

The True Value of Beauty

O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem,

By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!

The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem

For that sweet odour which doth in it live.

William Shakespeare, Sonnet 54

In this poem, Shakespeare was arguing his belief that there is a strong link between truth and beauty. This may not be the most famous sonnet he ever wrote, but it’s one of the best poetic meditations on the meaning of beauty.

Prince Nanda, also known as Sundarananda (handsome Nanda), was the younger half-brother of the Buddha. It was seven years after his Enlightenment that the Buddha, at the request of his father who missed him, returned to his home city. On the third day of his return, after his meal, the Buddha silently handed his bowl to Nanda. After that he stood and left. Thinking that the Buddha would take his bowl back, Nanda followed him until he reached the Park where the Buddha was staying.

When they arrived at the Park, the Buddha asked Nanda if he might become a monk. Although Nanda had just wedded the beautiful Janapada Kalyani, that same day Nanda took ordination and joined the community of Monks.

However, Nanda enjoyed no spiritual happiness. His thoughts were constantly directed towards his beautiful wife and his heart pined for her. Learning of this, the Buddha took Nanda on a journey to Tavatimsa Heaven. On the way Nanda saw a she-monkey that had lost her ears, nose and tail in a fire, clinging to a charred stump as if she couldn’t bear to let go no matter how ugly it was.

When they reached the heaven abode, Nanda saw beautiful celestial nymphs. They have long ago obtained their enlightenments and were blanketed by the glow of their happiness and compassion. The Buddha asked Nanda, “Which do you consider more beautiful? Those nymphs or Janapada Kalyani?” Nanda replied, “Venerable Sir, Janapada Kalyani looks like the scalded she-monkey, compared to those nymphs.” The Buddha then said, “Nanda, can you now see that what you thought to be exceedingly beautiful now pales in comparison to greater beauty?”

Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart.

Kahlil Gibran

You might wonder what then happened to Nanda’s beautiful wife. Some time after her husband left to become a monk, the princess Janapada Kalyani, also known as Rupananda, pondered, “My elder brother who could have become a Universal Monarch has renounced the world to become a bhikkhu. Rahula, the son of my elder brother, and my own husband Prince Nanda have also become bhikkhus. My mother Gotami has also become a bhikkhuni, and I am all alone here!”

So she went to the monastery and became a bhikkhuni herself. But there was a problem, she had become a bhikkhuni not out of faith but only in imitation of others and because she felt lonely. It soon became obvious that Nanda was not fully focused on her life as a nun. Nanda’s thoughts were mainly directed centred on her own beauty and her popularity with the people.

She had heard from others that the Buddha often taught about impermanence and earthly dissatisfactions. So she thought that, if he should see her, he would talk deprecatingly about her good looks. Therefore,  with this thinking, she kept away from the Buddha. But other bhikkhunis coming back from the monastery kept talking in praise of the Buddha. So one day, Rupananda decided to accompany other bhikkhunis to the monastery.

The Buddha saw her and reflected, “A thorn can only be taken out with a thorn; Rupananda being very attached to her body and being very proud of her beauty.” The  Buddha called her explicitly, and when she presented herself in an ashamed and anxious demeanour, he appealed to all of her positive qualities to make her feel a bit more joyful and calmer to receive his teaching. Since Nanda was so preoccupied with her physical beauty, he caused an image of a very beautiful lady to be seated near him, fanning him. This young girl was visible only to Rupananda and the Buddha. When Rupananda saw the girl, she liked her very much but she realized that compared to that girl, she herself was like an ugly old crow compared to a beautiful white swan.

Then, she looked again and was surprised to find that the girl had grown older. Again and again, she looked at the figure beside the Buddha and every time she noticed that the girl had grown older and older. Thus, the girl turned into a grown-up lady, then into a middle-aged lady, an old lady, a decrepit and a very old lady successively. Rupananda came to realize that there was a continuous process of change and decay in the body. With the coming of this realization, her attachment to the body diminished. Finally, the figure near the Buddha died – her body became  bloated, pus and maggots came out of every openings on her body until crows and vultures tried to snatch her.

Having seen all these, Rupananda pondered, “This young girl has grown old and decrepit and died in this very place under my own eyes. In the same way, my body will also grow old and wear out; it will be subject to disease and I will also die.” Thus, Rupananda gained a deeper understanding of the nature of her beauty.  Then the Buddha spoke to her:

This body is built with bones which are covered with flesh and blood; within this dwell decay and death, pride and detraction

Dhammapada Verse 150
Janapadakalyani Rupanandatheri Vatthu

Later, when he saw her again, the Buddha recognised Rupananda as being the foremost amongst bhikkunis. Rupananda had spent time meditating on the impermanence of her body and soon found her inner peace.

The Dhammapada is a Buddhist text that is believed to record the actual words of the Buddha who lived between 563 and 483 BCE. His words were passed along orally until they were written down in about the first century BCE. 

NEW RELEASE – Time Maps: Gods, Kings and Prophets

The whole story of Egypt has taken about 7000 years. This roughly translates to about three hundred generations, or a hundred average human lifetimes. The Ancient Egyptian culture meets its natural end around the time of Alexander the Macedonian. However, it is such a magnificent flowering of the human spirit that we turn to it for reference to this day to lead us into understanding many other cultures around the world.

The rise and fall of empires, dynasties and cultures are patterns that we find in the recollection of events, but the patterns in ancient Egypt are repeated throughout human history, and in the mythology of many nations – the king murdered by his brother, the old king with a young wife, the assassination of a saintly king, the attempt by courtiers to take control of the kingdom, the king brought down by his ambition or pride, and many others, all very Shakespearean. On a larger scale there are social upheavals, cultural revivals, wars that lasted for generations, superb technical achievements, works of art that stimulated the ancient Greeks and hence influenced the world, as well as religious inspirations that helped shape the Judeo-Christian-Islamic tradition.

Written with a Mathematician’s precision and a Historian’s curiosity, Time Maps covers over millennia worth of developments & impacts of civilizations, migrations, leaders and continents. Illuminating concepts of societies, dynasties, heroes, kings and eras through incisive and thorough research, looking at ideas, theories & world views with a sense of wonder and delight.

I am reading a small section of our new book, Time Maps: Gods, Kings and Prophets. It is now available through Amazon.

Time Maps: Gods, Kings and Prophets is now available on Amazon.

Achieving Simple Happiness

The world is so full of a number of things,
I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings.

Robert Louis Stevenson, ‘Happy Thought’, A Child’s Garden of Verses (1885)

Once upon a time, there was a rich man. As he became older, this rich man realized that the suffering of old age was about the same for rich and poor – in other words, in the end his money didn’t mean as much as he thought. So he gave up his wealth and class position, and he went into the forest to study under an old master and live as a poor monk. He practiced meditation and developed his mind. He freed himself from unwholesome thoughts and, slowly but surely, he became contented and happy.

At that time, most monks usually looked pretty serious. But there was one monk who, even though he was quite dignified, always wore at least a little smile – this monk was the person who used to be rich man. No matter what happened, he never lost this glimmer of inner happiness. And on happy occasions, he had the broadest smile, and the loudest, warmest laughter of all. Sometimes others would ask him why he was so happy all the time. He usually laughed and said, “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me! And if you think I lied to you, then it would be a disrespect to my master.” His master, the chief monk, was so impressed by him that he made the happy monk his assistant.

Much later, after the rainy season, the chief monk and his many followers went to the city. The king permitted them to live in his royal garden for the springtime. This king was a good man, who took his responsibilities as ruler seriously. He tried to protect the people from danger, and to increase their prosperity and welfare. But, of course that doesn’t mean that he had no troubles in his life. He always had to worry about neighbouring kings, some of whom were unfriendly and threatening. He often had to make peace between his own ministers because they wouldn’t stop bickering among themselves, not to mention his personal life – Sometimes his wives fought for his attention, and for the advancement of their sons. Occasionally, a dissatisfied subject even threatened the life of the king himself! And, of course, he had to worry constantly about the finances of the kingdom. In fact, he had so much to worry about that he never had time to be happy.

“The more man meditates upon good thoughts, the better will be his world and the world at large” — Confucius (500 BC)

As summer approached, the king learned that the monks were preparing to return to the forest. As the monks were living in his garden for a season, the king had gotten to know them quite well and he was very impressed with the peacefulness and welfare of the old leader. So the king went to him and said, “Your reverence, you are now very old and weak. What good does it do to go back to the forest? You can send your followers back while you remain here.”

The chief monk then called his number one assistant, the happy monk, to him and said, “You are now to be the leader of the other monks, while you all live in the forest. As I am too old and weak, I will remain here as offered by the king.” So his many followers returned to the forest and the old one remained.

The happy monk continued practicing meditation in the forest. He gained so much wisdom and peace that he became even happier than before. After a while, he missed his master and wanted to share his happiness with him. So he returned to the city for a visit.

When he arrived, he sat on a rug at the feet of the old monk. They didn’t speak very much, but every so often the number one assistant would say, “What happiness! Oh what happiness!”

Then the king came to visit. He paid his respects to the chief monk. However, the one from the forest just kept saying, “What happiness! Oh what happiness!” He did not even stop to greet the king and show proper respect. This disturbed the king and he thought, “With all my worries, as busy as I am looking after the kingdom, I take time out for a visit and this monk does not respect me enough to even recognize me. How insulting!” He said to the senior of the two monks, “Venerable sir, this monk must be stupid from overeating. That must be why he is so full of happiness. Does he lie around here so lazy all the time?”

The head monk replied, “Oh king, have patience and I will tell you the source of his happiness. Not many know it but this happy monk was once a king, just as rich and mighty as you. Then he was ordained a monk and gave up his kingly life. Now he thinks his old happiness was nothing compared to his present joy. He used to be surrounded by armed men who guarded and protected him. Now, sitting alone in the forest with nothing to fear, he has no need for armed guards. He has given up the burden of worrying about wealth that has to be protected. Instead, free of the worry of wealth and the fear of power, his wisdom protects himself and others. He advances in meditation to such inner peace, that he cannot keep from saying, “What happiness! Oh what happiness!”

Hearing the story of the happy monk made the king feel at peace. He stayed for a while and received advice from both of them. Then he honoured them, and returned to the palace. Later the happy monk, who once had been a king, paid his respects to his master and returned to the lovely forest. The old chief monk lived out the remainder of his life in the king’s garden, lending him peace and advice, until his peaceful death.

Pangur Bán

Pangur, white Pangur, How happy we are
Alone together, scholar and cat
Each has his own work to do daily;
For you it is hunting, for me study.
Your shining eye watches the wall;
My feeble eye is fixed on a book.
You rejoice, when your claws entrap a mouse;
I rejoice when my mind fathoms a problem.
Pleased with his own art, neither hinders the other;
Thus we live ever without tedium and envy.

English translation by W. H Auden (1907 – 1973)

This is an Old Irish poem written by a monk in the ninth century – about his cat. I would really like to show you this because it’s such a gloriously happy poem about the life of the old monk in his study with his cat as his happy companion, Just as the scholar goes in search of knowledge, so his faithful companion goes in search of mice.

 “The secret of happiness, you see, is not found in seeking more, but in developing the capacity to enjoy less” — Socrates (450 BC).

The Happy Monk is one of the many stories in the Jataka Tales. The Jataka are a voluminous body of literature concerning the previous births of Gautama Buddha  in both human and animal form. The tales are dated between 300 BC and 400 AD.

Message from Martini: “I have a YouTube Channel – I would Love for You to Join Me”

Hi everyone,

I have recently started my own YouTube channel. The reason behind this decision is that I want to share my views, insights and knowledge on this blog as well as in video format. There are many topics that I am very excited to discuss on video as well as in written form in this blog.

The goal of my YouTube channel is to be a place where we can discover more of ancient culture without the boring bits. If you have been following my blog or buying my books, you would know that I am very passionate about world mythology and how we can take lessons from them in the modern world. This channel will be focused world myths and legends which are simple and relatable. You can also access some of my favorite videos on my video page on this website.

I will be very happy if you would like to follow me along on this journey. If you are interested, do come to my channel, watch my videos and comment on it on YouTube or below this blog post if you like. I rely on feedback to improve the quality of the content, and I also would like to choose topics for future videos according to your feedback when possible.

Last, and most importantly, thank you for all your support and friendship through the years. I hope you know that appreciate you very much, and I look forward to taking you on this new adventure.

With love,

Martini

Patience – Good Things Take Time

Qui se ultro morti offerant facilius reperiuntur quam qui dolorem patienter ferant

“It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die, than to find those who are willing to endure pain with patience.”

Julius Caesar, De Bello Gallico, book VII

Some people are naturally patient. But the rest of us need to practice for it to become a habit. Becoming more patient will not happen overnight, but persistence can pay off.

Wat Arun (“Temple of Dawn”) is a temple in Yai district of Bangkok, Thailand. It was named after The Hindu sun god Surya’s legless charioteer, Aruna. There are many versions of legend of the birth of Aruna – all of them teach us the value of patience – especially how it very much helps the people around us.

 The sage Kashyapa Prajapati had two wives. Their names are Vinata and Kadru.  Vinata and Kadru wanted to have children. Kashyapa granted them a boon. Kadru asked for one thousand sons, while Vinata only wanted two sons. Kashyapa blessed them, and then went away to a forest.

Later, Kadru gave birth to one thousand eggs, while Vinata gave birth to two eggs. After incubating her eggs for five hundred years, Kadru broke the eggs open and out came her 1,000 sons. Seeing this and eager for her sons to be born already, Vinata broke one of the eggs and out came Aruna. Aruna was beautiful. He looked radiant and reddish as the morning sun, but not as bright as the midday sun as he was supposed to be and he was born without legs. Aruna chided his mother Vinata, because it was due to her impatience that he was born before he was ready.

Arun warned his mother, for the sake of his younger brother yet to be born, to wait for the second egg to hatch instead of breaking it. Aruna then left to become the charioteer of Surya, the sun god.



Vinata waited, and years later the fully developed brother of Aruna was born. His name was Garuda, and he became the divine eagle-sun king of the Birds.

And that companion is helpful,
because patience expands your capacity
to love and feel peace.
The patience of a rose close to a thorn
keeps it fragrant. It’s patience that gives milk
to the male camel still nursing in its third year,
and patience is what the prophets show to us.

Rumi (1369-1420)

Aruna literally means “red, ruddy, tawny”. He is the personification of the reddish glow of the rising sun. Wat Arun  (“Temple of Dawn”) is a  temple in the Yai district of Bangkok, Thailand. The temple is among the best known of Thailand’s landmarks. The first light of the morning reflects off the surface of the temple.

Driving Away Your Anger with Kindness


“Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures, …”

Homer, The Iliad, Book 1 (800 BCE)

One of the very first word in the history of Western literature is “anger”. That is how Homer’s “Iliad” begins. Composed sometime in the eighth century BC, it starts with a call to the Muse to help tell the story of the “anger” of Achilles — and of the incalculable sorrows and the terrible deaths of so many brave warriors that this wrath caused. Homer’s epic, set during the war between Greeks and Trojans, is as much about anger, private vendetta and its fatal consequences as it is about heroic combat and the clash of two ancient superpowers.

The 10-year Trojan War was fought to protect the honor of one Greek king, whose wife, Helen, had had run off with a Trojan prince. In a public contest of bravado, clout and honor, Achilles had been forced to give up a captive girl, who was his favorite spoil of war, to the Greek commander in chief, Agamemnon. It was for that reason — the dishonor more than the girl herself — that he sulked off from the fight and by his absence caused the deaths of many dear to him.

No less radical are the different perspectives on the story that Homer encourages his listeners and readers to adopt. By setting some of his scenes behind enemy lines, among the Trojan fighters and their families. We are invited to see the Trojan enemy not as barbarians at all but as people very much like us (that is, like Greeks): laughing and joking, loving their children, kindly, fearful and in awe of their gods. Dehumanizing the enemy is still one of the most counterproductive aspects of political rhetoric even today. It may suit some narrowly short-term ends to pretend that, for example, the politicians and people of  so-called “enemy country” do not laugh and joke and love their children; but of course they do. In short, the first work of Western literature already reminds us that even a sworn enemy is “human like us.” Therefore, the idea behind this is that when we feel angry with anyone, we should try to find out some good in them, either in their way of thinking, speaking or acting. If we find some redeeming quality in them, we should ponder its value and ignore their bad qualities as natural weaknesses that are to be found in everyone. Whilst we think thus, our mind will soften and we may even feel kindly towards that person. If we develop this way of thinking we will be able to curb or eliminate our anger towards them.

Another way to reflect on anger is given to us by this ancient Buddhist story from the Samyutta-Nikâya:

Once there lived a demon who fed on the anger of others. As his feeding ground was the human world, there was no lack of food for him. So the anger-eating demon found it quite easy to provoke a family quarrel, or national and racial hatred, or even to stir up wars. And whenever he succeeded in causing a war, he could properly gorge himself without further effort; because once a war starts, hate multiplies by its own momentum and affects even the normally kind-hearted people. So the demon’s food supply became so rich that he sometimes had to restrain himself from over-eating, being content with nibbling just a small piece of resentment found close-by.

But as it often happens with successful people, he became rather overbearing and one day when he was feeling bored he thought: “Shouldn’t I try it with the gods?” Then he chose the Heaven of the Thirty-three Deities, ruled by Sakka, Lord of Gods. He knew that, although these gods were far above petty and selfish quarrels (they are gods after all), only a few of them had entirely eliminated the fetters of ill-will and aversion. So he transferred himself to that heavenly realm and was lucky enough to come at a time when Sakka the Divine King was absent. There was none in the large audience hall and without much ado the demon seated himself on Sakka’s empty throne, waiting quietly.

Soon some of the gods came to the hall and first they could hardly believe their own divine eyes when they saw that ugly demon sitting on the throne. Having recovered from their shock, they started to shout and lament: “Oh you ugly demon, how can you dare to sit on the throne of our Lord? What utter cheekiness! What a crime! you should be thrown headlong into the hell and straight into a boiling cauldron! You should be quartered alive! Begone! Begone!”

But while the gods were growing more and more angry, the demon was quite pleased because from moment to moment he grew in size, in strength and in power. The anger he absorbed into his system started to ooze from his body as a very smelly red-glowing mist. This evil aura kept the gods at a distance and their radiance was dimmed.

Suddenly a bright glow appeared at the other end of the hall and it grew into a dazzling light from which Sakka emerged, the King of Gods. But he was unshaken by what he saw. The smoke-screen created by the gods’ anger parted when he slowly and politely approached the usurper of his throne. “Welcome, friend! Please remain seated. I can take another chair. May I offer you the drink of hospitality? Our Amrita is not bad this year. Or do you prefer a stronger brew, the vedic Soma?”

While Sakka spoke these friendly words, the demon rapidly shrank to a diminutive size and finally disappeared, trailing behind a whiff of smoke which likewise soon dissolved.

The Tipitaka is a massive collection of texts that were first compiled by the Fourth Buddhist Council in 29 BCE. It was divided into 5 volumes (nikayas). The Samyutta Nikaya (“Connected Discourses” or “Kindred Sayings”) is the third of the five volumes.