Mara Papiyan
He won't stop you from doing good things.
In our last episode, we talked about Śakra,
the king of the second layer of the Six Desire Heavens.
He was a man who pushed good deeds to the extreme,
reborn in the highest place that good karma could reach,
only to find that it looked exactly like the human world.
He sought out the Buddha for teachings,
who told him the root of conflict lies within consciousness,
not on the outside.
Śakra saw the exit.
But at the very top of the Six Desire Heavens,
lives another character.
He doesn't do good things like Śakra does.
He does something far more ruthless.
He makes you believe that doing good is enough.
He doesn't block your path;
he makes you think you've reached the end of the road.
His name is Mara Papiyan.
Hello,
everyone.
I am Wang Lijie.
This is a companion piece to the Śakra episode.
If Śakra's story represents the ceiling of good karma,
Mara's story is about the one who hides the ceiling from you.
Watching these two together,
you'll see a profound design in the Buddhist cosmology.
First, who is Mara?
Mara is the ruler of the highest Desire Heaven,
Parinirmita-vaśavartin.
In Sanskrit, he is Māra,
in Pali, also Māra,
meaning "the killer."
It can also be translated as "obstacle."
In Chinese scriptures, he is called Demon King Papiyan,
or the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven.
Pay attention to where he lives:
Parinirmita-vaśavartin.
The name itself is a clue.
Parinirmita-vaśavartin
means "controlling the creations of others."
What does that mean?
Beings in the lower heavens
must create their own pleasure.
Beings in the fifth heaven can manifest pleasure for themselves.
But those in the sixth heaven don't need to lift a finger.
They enjoy the pleasures created by others.
Think about this setting for a moment.
To not have to do anything personally
yet enjoy everything—
isn't that the ultimate form of control?
It's not about acquiring things yourself,
but having the entire system work for you.
Think about who is like this in reality.
Not the low-level workers,
nor the middle managers,
but those who sit at the top of the system,
making the entire structure serve them.
They don't need to do anything by hand,
yet all the benefits eventually flow to them.
Mara is the lord of this heaven.
He is not a demon hiding in a dark corner.
He is not the fallen angel of Western religion,
nor is he a loser cast underground.
On the contrary,
he is the supreme ruler of the Desire Realm.
The entire world of desire—
the six heavens, the human world, and the three lower realms—
all fall under his jurisdiction.
As long as you have desires,
you are on his turf.
Śakra is his subordinate.
The Four Heavenly Kings are his subordinates.
Even all beings in the human world operate within his system.
So you see,
Mara's terror lies not in how evil he is,
but in his position.
He doesn't need to do anything bad;
he only needs to ensure one thing:
that you never leave the Desire Realm.
Whether you do good or evil, cycle through heaven or fall into hell within the Desire Realm,
it doesn't matter to him.
As long as you don't leave,
you will always be on his list of subjects.
That is why in the Buddhist sutras, Papiyan never stops you from doing good.
You do good deeds,
accumulate merit,
and are reborn in the heavenly realms.
Papiyan doesn't mind at all,
because the heavens are still part of the Desire Realm.
Śakra performed many good deeds
and lives in the Trayastrimsha Heaven,
but that is still within Papiyan's jurisdiction.
Papiyan is truly afraid of only one thing:
that you start looking for a way out.
Now let’s look at Papiyan’s most famous appearance:
The defeat of Mara under the Bodhi tree.
Many people understand this story as a war.
The Demon King brings a vast army to attack Siddhartha, who is about to achieve Buddhahood.
Swords fly,
the earth shatters,
and finally, the Buddha touches the earth.
The earth bears witness,
and the demon army is routed.
That is the imagery of the traditional narrative.
It is very powerful.
But if you only see a war,
you miss the story's most profound layer.
The Padhana Sutta of the Pali Canon records a very different version.
Papiyan comes before Siddhartha, who is practicing asceticism.
He brings no army,
and no weapons.
The first thing he says is,
"You are so thin and weak,
your face is so pale—
you are on the verge of death.
Just choose to live.
By living, you can still do good deeds;
you can still tend the sacrificial fire and practice.
You can still accumulate merit;
why must you torture yourself like this?"
Did you hear that clearly?
Papiyan's first tactic is not a threat.
It is not intimidation.
His first tactic is to persuade you to do good.
He says,
"Living is better than dying;
by living, you can perform good deeds and gain merit."
This is what is most terrifying about Papiyan.
He doesn't use a blade;
he uses logic.
And the logic he uses
sounds quite right.
Who would think doing good is a problem?
Who would think accumulating merit while alive is a problem?
But Siddhartha saw through the logic behind these words.
Papiyan wasn't encouraging him to do good;
Papiyan was persuading him not to take that final step out.
He wanted him to stay within the framework of karma,
within the cycle of Saṃsāra,
within the jurisdiction of the Desire Realm.
Do good deeds,
get good rewards;
do more good deeds,
get more good rewards.
An eternal cycle,
never leaving.
How did the Buddha reply?
He said,
"Papiyan,
I recognize you."
Then he listed Papiyan's armies.
Note the names of these armies.
The first army is Desire.
The second army is Discontent.
The third army is Hunger and Thirst.
The fourth army is Craving.
The fifth army is Sloth and Torpor.
The sixth army is Fear.
The seventh army is Doubt.
The eighth army is hypocrisy and apathy.
Have you noticed something?
None of these armies are external enemies.
They are all internal psychological states.
Desire, discontent, hunger, craving, laziness, fear, doubt, hypocrisy—
this is the full extent of Mara's forces.
He doesn't need real swords or spears;
these elements within your own mind are his most loyal soldiers.
This is the most subtle twist in the story of subduing the demons.
On the surface, the Buddha defeated an external demon king;
in reality, he saw through all internal psychological mechanisms.
Subduing the demons was not a war,
but a complete self-diagnosis.
Look back at that scene under the Bodhi tree.
Mara first sent his three daughters.
The scriptures record their names as Craving, Discontent, and Passion.
Pay attention to these three names.
Craving is the desire to obtain;
Discontent is the rejection of the present;
Passion is the pursuit of pleasure.
These are not three people.
These are the three psychological programs that start running as soon as you wake up.
You check your phone because of craving.
You are anxious because of discontent.
You can't stop because of passion.
Mara's daughters have never left your house;
small parts of them live in your mind all the time.
But Mara didn't just appear once under the Bodhi tree.
He appears repeatedly throughout the Pali Canon,
and always with a very consistent pattern.
Whenever someone is about to achieve a breakthrough,
he arrives.
He appears before practitioners,
sometimes disguised as a young man,
sometimes as an old man.
Sometimes he doesn't even use a disguise,
but appears in your mind as a voice.
What he says is never a threat;
it is always advice that sounds perfectly reasonable.
"Your practice is too hard."
"Why not take a break?"
"You're already doing great."
"Why keep pushing yourself?"
"Look how beautiful the world is outside."
"Why be so obsessed with renunciation?"
In the Pali Canon's Samyutta Nikaya, there is a section called the Mara-samyutta.
It specifically records scenes where Mara appears.
What impressed me most
are the stories of him appearing before bhikkhunis (nuns).
Mara said to a bhikkhuni named Soma,
"You are a woman."
"A woman's wisdom is only two fingers wide."
"How could you possibly attain enlightenment?"
Look at the tactic he uses.
He doesn't just say you're incompetent;
he gives you an identity label,
and then uses that label to define your upper limit.
"You are a woman,
so your limit is here."
"You are a commoner,
so you can only go this far."
"You are a layperson,
so transcendental things have nothing to do with you."
Every label is a ceiling.
But he didn't install this ceiling;
you installed it yourself after identifying with the label.
How did Soma respond?
She said,
"When the mind is concentrated,
when wisdom shines,
and when one clearly sees the Dhamma,
what does being a woman have to do with it?"
With one sentence, she dismantled Mara's logic.
Your labels cannot define your realization.
Your identity cannot limit your awakening.
Mara's entire power
is built on the basis of you identifying with those labels.
Once you stop identifying,
he loses his grip.
Alright.
At this point,
I want to break down a key question.
Is Papiyan a real external entity,
or a metaphor for your inner mechanisms?
In Buddhist tradition,
both interpretations exist.
But later commentaries provide a subtle classification:
Papiyan is not one type of existence,
but five.
The first is Devaputra-mara,
the specific deity dwelling in the Heaven of Controlling Others' Emanations.
An entity with a name and identity.
The second is Klesha-mara,
greed, hatred, ignorance, pride, and doubt.
All the afflictions in your heart
are Maras.
The third is Skandha-mara.
Form, feeling, perception, mental formations, and consciousness—
the very components of your body and mind
are themselves Maras.
The fourth is Mrtyu-mara.
Death itself is Mara.
Because death makes you fear,
and fear makes you cling.
The fifth is Karma-mara.
The habitual patterns left by your past actions,
driving you to repeat old reactions.
This inertia itself is Mara.
Of these five Maras,
only the first is external.
The other four are all within you.
And the most terrifying is the third:
Skandha-mara.
What does it mean?
Your body, your feelings, your thoughts,
your will, your consciousness—
the very things that constitute you
are themselves a cage.
You don't need an external demon king to trap you.
Your own physical and mental structure
is the most sophisticated cage of all.
Have you ever experienced this?
When you meditate
and finally settle into stillness,
suddenly your knee begins to ache.
All your attention is instantly pulled back to your body.
Or when you're thinking deeply about a problem,
suddenly you get hungry,
and your train of thought is immediately broken.
This is Skandha-mara.
It's not someone else interfering with you;
it's your own body and mind dragging you back.
It's not intentional;
it's structural.
Your body is designed to be hungry, painful, and tired.
This design itself is part of the Desire Realm.
This is the fundamental difference between Papiyan and Shakra.
Shakra is an individual—
a good person who did good deeds.
Papiyan is not just a person;
he is a structure.
He is the personification of desire itself.
He is the voice inside saying, "That's enough, don't go further, stay here."
Have you heard this voice in your life?
When you resolve to change a habit,
is there a voice in your heart saying,
"Forget it,
you've done well enough"?
When you want to think deeply about a problem,
is there a voice saying,
"Why think so much?
This is good enough"?
When you feel a deep unease within,
is there a voice saying,
"Don't look in that direction,
come watch something fun instead"?
That voice is Papiyan.
He doesn't intimidate you;
he soothes you.
He keeps you staying in your comfort zone.
And tells you the comfort zone is the whole world.
Let's look at these two episodes together.
Śakra represents the ceiling of good karma;
the highest point you can reach by doing good deeds.
Papiyan represents the floor of desire.
You think you've hit rock bottom,
but he tells you there's no need to dig deeper.
One is the upward limit,
the other is the downward obstacle.
Together,
they define the complete boundaries of the Desire Realm.
Śakra's story tells you
being a good person is necessary,
but it's not enough.
Papiyan's story tells you
there’s a force preventing you from realizing it's not enough.
Śakra saw the exit;
Papiyan hides the exit from your view.
But Papiyan did one more thing.
This part of the story is what alarms me the most.
After the Buddha attained enlightenment,
he taught for forty-five years.
When he reached eighty,
Papiyan appeared once again.
This time, his words were very simple.
He said,
"World-Honored One,
you have already saved so many people.
Your disciples are everywhere.
The Dharma is flourishing.
You can enter Parinirvana now."
Consider this strategy.
Forty-five years ago, under the Bodhi tree,
Papiyan urged Siddhartha not to become a Buddha.
He failed.
Now, he has changed his strategy.
He no longer tries to stop the Dharma;
he suggests the Dharma is "enough."
"You have done enough.
You can stop now.
You can rest."
Is this not the same trick?
It's just packaged differently.
Under the Bodhi tree, he said, "Why bother practicing?
Doing good is enough."
Before Nirvana, he said, "Why continue teaching?
You have done enough."
The logic is identical:
"Enough."
"Stop."
"No need to go further."
The Buddha agreed.
He announced he would enter Nirvana in three months.
Why did he agree?
Buddhists have debated this for 2,500 years,
with no consensus to this day.
Perhaps the Buddha saw the timing was right.
Perhaps he knew the seeds of Dharma were sown,
and the rest was up to each individual.
Perhaps for one who has seen everything clearly,
there is no difference between Nirvana and non-Nirvana.
Regardless of the reason,
Papiyan’s appearance here reveals one thing:
His ultimate strategy is never to stop you from starting;
it is to make you feel like you can stop.
From start to finish,
for forty-five years,
he had only one trick:
"Enough."
Now, look at yourself.
But there is a point that is easily confused,
and you must distinguish it clearly.
When you are chasing money, fame, and desire,
and a voice suddenly says, "Enough,
stop the chase,"
that voice is likely not Papiyan.
That is awakening knocking at your door.
The Buddha himself spoke of having few desires and being content.
In the direction of desire, knowing what is enough
is precisely the beginning of wisdom.
But
when you start to practice,
when you start looking inward,
trying to let go of attachment and pierce through ignorance,
a voice pops up in your heart says "enough."
"You've practiced well enough."
"Don't go any deeper."
"That's about enough."
That voice
is actually Papiyan.
He doesn't appear when you are greedy;
he appears just as you are about to wake up.
His version of "enough"
is specifically meant to block the path to awakening.
So, the most dangerous moment of your life
is not when you encounter difficulties and want to give up.
At that time, at least you know you are struggling.
The most dangerous moment
is when everything is going smoothly on your spiritual path,
and then you feel that it's "enough."
The word "enough"
is Papiyan's gentlest weapon.
Sakra is your mirror;
he lets you see
what it looks like when wholesome karma is perfected.
Papiyan is also your mirror;
he let you see that
what stops you is never an external enemy,
but the voice in your own heart saying "enough."
Two mirrors,
reflecting the whole truth of the Desire Realm.
One reflects the ceiling,
the other reflects the gatekeeper.
And you stand in the middle,
deciding whether to stay in this building
or walk out to see the sky.
But I want to remind you of one thing.
When the Buddha subdued the Mara under the Bodhi tree,
he did not destroy Papiyan.
The scriptures never say Papiyan was killed,
locked up,
or made non-existent.
The Buddha simply said one phrase:
"Papiyan,
I recognize you."
"I recognize you."
Not "I defeated you."
Not "I destroyed you."
But "I recognize you."
This sentence carries more weight than any weapon.
Because Papiyan's power is built on you not knowing him.
You thought that voice saying "enough" was your own rational judgment.
You thought the thought advising you to stop trying was mature wisdom.
You thought that impulse to stay comfortable
was a normal human need.
You didn't know that was Papiyan.
Once you recognize him,
most of his magic loses its effect.
He is still there;
desire is still there;
fear is still there;
laziness is still there.
But you are no longer led by the nose by them,
because you have seen the rope that pulls you.
Do you feel that this character of Papiyan
corresponds to any voice in your own heart?
Have you ever, at a critical moment,
heard that voice saying "enough"?
I am Wang Lijie.
See you next time.