Good is Beautiful, Evil is Desolate

In English translations of the Buddha's discourses, we see the words "good" and "evil." We can understand these to mean actions of body, speech, and mind that are beneficial, versus those that are harmful, but these words are translated from a language separated from those of us in the early 21st century Americas by two and a half millennia and the mass of an entire planet. This language is now called Pali. A vernacular descended from Sanskrit, it is the liturgical language of Theravāda Buddhism and the closest we have to what the Buddha actually would have spoken. The Pali adjective translated as "good" is kalyāṇa, and the adjective translated as "evil" is pāpaka. Translation of any concept more complex than basic direction loses some nuance, though; so I'd like to take a look at these words and their associations in Pali to see what interesting connotations we might draw out to give us a new perspective on spiritual practice.

The word kalyāṇa generally occurs in one of three contexts. The first is in reference to "good deeds" or "good actions" (kalyāṇa kamma). The Buddha taught five recollections for daily reflection, and the fifth ends, "Whatever action I do, whether for good [kalyāṇa] or evil [pāpaka], of that will I be the heir." The second is in the common phrase kalyāṇa-mitta, which has been translated as "spiritual friend" or as "admirable friend." It refers to our companions who support us in our spiritual practice. The third is a stock phrase describing the Dhamma: "Good in the beginning, good in the middle, good in the end."

Though translated as "good," if you look up the word in most Pali-English dictionaries, you'll find the word "beautiful" listed among the definitions. In fact, it's the first word listed in both the Pali Text Society's dictionary finished in 1925, as well as in the Monier-Williams Sanskrit-English Dictionary from 1899! What this means is that what is good in an ethical or spiritual sense is also beautiful. Further, in the philosophical treatises of the Abhidhamma, the morally good factors of the mind are called "beautiful" (although the word there is sobhana).

The fact is that doing good creates beauty. Morality is not some dour affair, but rather an exquisite way to live. Morality is a fundamental part of the path to the unparalleled joy and happiness the spiritual life has to offer. A person who does good deeds is a beautiful person. They brighten the hearts of those around them, and they lift the spirits of others. The countenance of one whose orientation towards others is one of generosity and benevolence becomes comely. This has nothing to do with some kind of physical structure of their physical form, but flows from a simple, joyful peace that shines outward as a radiant aura.

A person who carries the beauty of wholesome intentions makes for a beautiful friend, a kalyāṇa-mitta. A famous incident from the suttas has the Venerable Ānanda, the Buddha's cousin and attendant, remarking that such friendships are half of the spiritual life. The Buddha corrects him: Beautiful friendships are the whole of the spiritual life. He goes on to specify what he means by "beautiful friend": They are the ones who encourage morality, development of the mind, and wisdom. Such resplendent relationships touch and lighten our hearts, and support us through the inevitable difficulties of life.

And the Dhamma itself, the teachings the Buddha gave us, and our practice of them, are beautiful. An elegant Dhamma talk often seems to speak directly to what those in the audience need to hear. The path of the Dhamma is, overall, a path of joy, even if it sometimes becomes hard as we directly face our own suffering. Through the Dhamma we get in touch with a sense of beauty that does not rely on any experience of the physical senses. When we are fully present, each moment presents itself in a fresh and new glory, sublime and complete. Dhamma begins with inspiration and culminates in perfection.

What about pāpaka? What about "evil"? We usually find the word occurring alongside akusala, which means both "unwholesome" and "unskillful" (because morality, and Buddhist practice in general, can be viewed as a skill, not unlike what Aristotle taught). But another place it can occur is in reference to soil that cannot be used for growing food. A pāpa is a barren field, a desolate wasteland. And just as a desolate wasteland is defined by its inability to be used for growing that which can nourish our bodies, evil intentions are unable to nourish our spirits. An evil intention will bear fruit, but it will be poisonous nightshade and not salubrious tomatoes. While we may be able to transform such pestilence into nutrition for our hearts through the alchemy of mindfulness, the evil intentions themselves are unambiguously toxic. Holding on to them can never provide sustenance for our spirituality.

Looking at the other definitions of kalyāṇa and pāpaka helps us see good and evil in a new light. We see that good is a creative force for beauty, while evil is a blight that desolates. We should not approach morality as a boring, drab slog, but as an opportunity to introduce wonder to our wanderings, and perhaps fertilize barren lands with the promise of new, healthy growth. Let us find the inspiration to invoke such sublimity into the world.