The original Therigatha (“Verses of the Elder Nuns”) contains the poems of the first Buddhist nuns. In her Foreword to Matty Weingast’s intuitive renderings in The First Free Women, Bhikkuni Anandabodhi writes that these poems are like jewels. “They call us to remember our greatest potential – our potential to be free.”
Poem: ANOTHER UTTAMA
During our What is my path? gathering, we read one of these poems: Another Uttama. It reads as follows:
"The entire Path,
and all you will ever need
to walk it,
you will find inside.
So the Buddha taught me.
Once I took a closer look,
all the running around
started to seem a little silly.
Things changed so quickly –
by the time I got anywhere,
I'd be someone else.
You are your mother.
You are your daughter.
One
moment
gives birth
to the
next.
What we do is who we become."
Contemplation
The poem, as Bhikkuni Anandabodhi already wrote in her Foreword, touched the hearts of all joining our gathering on this new moon (March 19, 2026). At times, some noted, we feel lost or not quite sure where to go next. How do we discover where to go from here? Where are we now to begin with? The poem points to something important: we need to do it ourselves.
The last line struck a chord with many, and felt both true and somewhat uncomfortable: “What we do is who we become.” During our conversation, we wondered: Is it perhaps also how you do something and not only what? And maybe of even greater importance, some suggested, is why we do something!
Another topic that was highlighted, referring to the words right before the last line and two verses preceding it: change. Things never stay the same. On the one hand, some said, this can be quite challenging. On the other hand, it was suggested, this is actually liberating. It may be difficult to do things differently, yet change always offers us an opportunity to change for the better.
How, then, do we ensure we take a step in the right direction?
Looking Inside
During our gathering during the full moon on April 1st, 2026, we started to read a little bit about the society of the time of the early Buddhist monks and nuns – the time of the Buddha.
Socially that time – about twenty-five hundred years ago – was a period of notable restlessness, Andrew Schelling and Anne Waldman write in Songs of the Sons and Daughters of Buddha:
A burgeoning merchant class, drawing on the region’s natural resources – its gems, metals, botanicals, and wildlife – and trading widely throughout the South Asian subcontinent, helped build thronging, legendary cities across the Indo-Gangetic Plain. Cosmopolitan life offered unprecedented opportunity for people who migrated into the cities – particularly the freedom found in breaking with the constraints and local prejudices of traditional village life. Yet a recognizable urban malaise had set in. It was the old problem of an expanding economy, new modes of production, unstable human relationships, a dissatisfaction with the old gods, and the confusion of values that comes with these changes.
The world of that time may differ from ours in many ways, but it felt familiar – all too familiar. Maybe the lines of Uttama’s poem about the running around and constant change were partly inspired by this experience and the search for meaning, truth, and an end to the suffering that seemed to come along with life then, as it does in our societies now.
In search of fulfilment, monks and nuns followed in the footsteps of the Buddha and headed out toward cool and comparatively quiet woodlands and groves. Yet, as Uttama reminds us at the beginning of the poem, the Buddha taught that ultimately, all we will ever need on the path is found inside.
How, we contemplated together during our gathering, do we look inside? What does it mean to “look inside”? And how do we know we are looking in a genuine manner? Meditating seems to be only part of the answer.
How do we stay connected with the things found inside in our day-to-day lives, including or especially when things around us seem to be moving fast?
Towards the end of our gathering, there was a shared appreciation for exploring these topics together, continuing to contemplate these questions and topics as we walk our path.
This was written shortly after the gathering on April 1st, 2026, and draws on the wonderful contributions of participants from both that session and the gathering hosted by Nalandabodhi Netherlands (in Dutch) on March 19, 2026. Any wisdom in these words belongs entirely to all who participated; apologies for any confusion and errors, which are entirely due to the limited qualities of this novice. Interested in joining What is My Path? You can learn more and register here.
Dutch Translation of Poem
Below is an intuitive rendering of the poem from the English version by Matty Weingast into Dutch, written for the participants of our What is my path? bi-weekly gathering. I hope it will help the Dutch-speaking readers to connect with the meaning more easily. Please feel free to rewrite it such that it helps you to make a connection with this poem.
"Het gehele Pad,
en alles, wat je ooit nodig zult hebben,
om het te bewandelen,
vind je binnenin.
Aldus, zei de Boeddha tegen mij.
Toen ik er eens goed naar keek,
Al dat heen en weer geren
Begon te dagen als nogal onnozel.
Dingen veranderen zo snel –
Zodra ik ergens aankwam
Was ik alweer iemand anders.
Je bent je moeder.
Je bent je dochter.
Het ene
Moment
Leidt
Tot het volgende.
Wat we doen, bepaalt wie we worden."
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