Hey everyone, welcome back to Life Philosophy, the podcast where we dive deep into the timeless wisdom of ancient stories, modern insights, and everything in between to help us navigate this beautiful, messy journey called life. I’m your host, and today, we’re stepping into the enlightened world of the Buddha and one of his most remarkable disciples, Poorna Kashyap. This is a story of courage, compassion, and the transformative power of perspective—a tale that challenges us to rethink how we face adversity and embrace the world around us. So, grab a cozy spot, maybe a cup of tea, and let’s journey back to ancient India together.
Picture this: it’s the time of the Buddha, a period steeped in spiritual awakening and profound teachings. Among the many disciples who followed the Enlightened One was a man named Poorna Kashyap. Now, Poorna wasn’t just any disciple. He had reached a state of such inner peace and clarity that he earned the title of “Poorna,” meaning “complete” or “fulfilled.” The Buddha himself recognized this. One day, in a quiet moment under the shade of a banyan tree, the Buddha turned to Poorna and said, “My friend, you’ve walked with me long enough. You’ve learned all there is to learn from my shadow. Now, it’s time for you to step into the light on your own. Go out into the world—village to village, town to town—and share the wisdom you’ve gained. Your purpose now is to give what you’ve received.”
Poorna, ever humble, bowed his head and replied, “But, Lord, which direction should I take? Guide me where to go.” The Buddha smiled, that gentle, knowing smile of his, and said, “Poorna, you’re wise enough now to find your own path. Direction isn’t something I need to give you anymore. Trust yourself.” I love this moment because it reminds me of those times in life when we’re so used to seeking external validation or guidance, and then someone we trust says, “You’ve got this. Go figure it out.” It’s both liberating and a little terrifying, right?
So, Poorna thought for a moment and declared, “Very well, Lord. I’ve chosen my path. There’s a village in Bihar called Sookha. I’ll go there.” Now, here’s where the story gets interesting. The Buddha raised an eyebrow and cautioned, “Think carefully, Poorna. Sookha is no ordinary place. It’s a village of wild, untamed people—cruel, hostile, and unfamiliar with the ways of peace. They’ve never seen a monk before. They might make your life a living hell. They take pleasure in hurting others. Are you sure?” I can almost hear the concern in the Buddha’s voice, like a parent warning a child about a dangerous road ahead.
But Poorna, unshaken, responded with a quiet strength that just gives me chills. “That’s exactly why I must go, Lord. How long will these people live like beasts, consumed by cruelty and ignorance? Someone has to reach them. They need me. Please, give me your blessing to go.” Isn’t that incredible? Here’s a man who, instead of running from danger, sees it as his calling. How often do we avoid the hard stuff in life, the messy relationships, the tough conversations, because it’s just easier to stay comfortable? Poorna’s courage here is a wake-up call.
The Buddha, still testing Poorna’s resolve, pressed him further. “Think once more. What if you falter midway and have to turn back, leaving your work unfinished?” Poorna’s reply was resolute: “I’ve thought enough, Lord. All I ask now is your permission.” And so, the Buddha, with a glint of pride in his eyes, agreed—but not before posing three piercing questions to test Poorna’s inner strength. These questions, my friends, are where the real philosophy of this story shines.
“First,” the Buddha asked, “if the people of Sookha insult you, curse you, and humiliate you, what will go through your mind?” Poorna smiled softly and said, “I’ll feel gratitude, Lord. I’ll think, ‘How kind they are! They’re only using words, not fists. They could have beaten me, but they didn’t.’”
The Buddha nodded and continued, “And if they do beat you, if they strike you with their hands or weapons, what then?” Poorna’s calm didn’t waver. “I’ll still be grateful, Lord. I’ll think, ‘How merciful they are! They’re only beating me, not killing me. They could have taken my life, but they spared me.’”
Finally, the Buddha asked, “And if they do take your life, Poorna—if they kill you—what will be your last thought as you leave this world?” Poorna’s answer was pure gold. “Even then, Lord, I’ll feel blessed. I’ll think, ‘How fortunate I am that they’ve freed me from this life, where I might have made countless mistakes. They’ve released me from future suffering.’”
Can we just pause here for a second? Imagine having that kind of mindset. Most of us get upset over a rude comment or a small slight, and here’s Poorna, ready to face death with gratitude. It’s mind-blowing. The Buddha, satisfied, finally gave his blessing. “Go, Poorna. No one can harm you now—not truly. They may insult your body, they may strike your flesh, they may even take your life, but they cannot touch your soul. They cannot disturb the peace of your mind. All of life, after all, is a game of perception. How we see the world, how we choose to think, determines whether we live in heaven or hell.”
This teaching is the heart of the story, and I want to unpack it a bit. The Buddha reminds us that heaven and hell aren’t places out there somewhere—they’re states of mind. “To live with enmity in your heart is to dwell in hell,” he taught. “To live with friendship and love, even toward those who hurt you, is to create heaven within.” Isn’t that powerful? It’s not about changing the world around us; it’s about changing how we see it. Poorna understood this. He knew that even if the villagers of Sookha hated him, their hatred couldn’t touch his inner peace unless he let it.
I’m reminded of a little story I once heard about a village facing a terrible drought. The elders decided to perform a grand ritual to please the rain gods, believing that on the final day, rain would come. Everyone gathered, praying fervently. Among them was a small boy, no older than ten, carrying an umbrella. When someone asked why, he innocently said, “When the rain comes after the ritual, this will keep me dry!” That childlike faith, that unshakeable positive outlook—it’s what Poorna carried with him to Sookha. He didn’t just hope for the best; he lived as if kindness and transformation were inevitable, no matter the odds.
As Poorna set off on his journey, the climax of this tale isn’t about whether he succeeded in converting the villagers or faced their wrath. The true peak is in his unwavering resolve and the philosophy he embodied. He showed us that true strength isn’t in fighting back—it’s in refusing to let external actions poison your inner world. “Hatred can never be erased by hatred,” the Buddha often said. “Only love can extinguish it.” Poorna lived that truth.
So, what can we take from this as we sip our tea and reflect? Maybe it’s a reminder to meet life’s challenges with a different lens. The next time someone cuts you off in traffic or snaps at you at work, can you pause and think, “How kind they are to only be rude and not worse”? I know, it sounds almost impossible, and trust me, I’m not there yet either. But even trying to shift our perspective can lighten the load we carry. Poorna teaches us that our peace is ours to protect, no matter what storms rage outside.
As we wrap up today’s episode, I want to leave you with this thought: life will always throw curveballs—insults, setbacks, even betrayals. But like Poorna, we have a choice in how we respond. Will we build a hell of resentment in our hearts, or a heaven of understanding? Let’s take a page from Poorna’s book and choose the latter, one small step at a time. Thanks for joining me on this journey today. Until next time, keep reflecting, keep growing, and remember—your mind is your greatest sanctuary. See you soon on Life Philosophy.