After seeing these deeply disturbing sights, he returned to the
palace and pondered what he had witnessed. His mind was in turmoil
and he could find no peace nor satisfactory answers from the
Brahmin wise men. Meeting the wandering monk, however, hinted as a
possible way of escaping his dilemma. To increase his confusion and
conflict, a messenger arrived with the news that his wife had just
given birth to a son. He considered how his departure from the
palace would affect his wife, their son and his parents. Yes, his
wife would grieve but he knew she and their son would be protected
and well-provided. His parents would be shocked and sorely
disappointed. Until now, his life had been entirely planned by
others, but his quest was more urgent than any personal
consideration or sacrifice. If he remained in his present life and
assumed more duties as the heir-apparent to the throne, he would be
enmeshed in further worldly involvements along with their attendant
anxieties. Certainly his love for his wife and newborn child would
shackle him indefinitely. It is the custom in India to leave the
household life in later years when a man's worldly duties have been
accomplished. But could he leave now? He was not seeking spiritual
answers only for himself. No, he would share this discovery of the
way to end suffering and rebirth and then help this afflicted
world. If successful, this would be an unparalled gift to benefit
not only those he loved but all humanity, now and for all
time.
With these thoughts in mind, he approached the King and his
stepmother and told them of his experiences and his decision to
leave. Assuring them he would return when he discovered the way to
halt rebirth and suffering, he knew turning back was impossible:
his decision was irrevocable. Bursting into tears, his parents
begged him to remain and enjoy his present privileges, his future
glory and the pleasures of a happy family life. Disappointed and
saddened by the encounter with his parents, he returned to his
chambers. Late that night, he asked Channa to saddle Kanthaka, his
swiftest and favorite great white stallion. He had one last duty to
perform. Quietly, he entered his wife's chambers to gaze one last
time on the sleeping Princess. Her arm was covering their son's
face, but he dare not wake them. Vowing he would return to see them
when his goal was accomplished, with heavy heart, he turned and
departed. Truly, it can be said it was not that he loved them less,
but he loved suffering humanity more. At age 29, Prince Siddhattha
left the palace. This momentous event in religious history is known
as the Great Renunciation.
It was midnight as Kanthaka, carrying the Prince and Channa, rode
quietly out of Kapilavatthu. Siddhattha left behind his past life
for an unknown future, parting with everyone he loved. He renounced
position, wealth, the promise of power and prestige and a life of
privilege in search of the Truth which no one had found. Mara, the
Tempter, appeared and spoke to Gotama's heart, "O, Prince, return
to the palace. You shall soon become a Universal King." The Prince
refused. Mara warned, "You will be watched, Siddhattha. My power is
very great. At the very first time that you have a cruel thought
and secret desires I shall know it, and I shall catch you!"
Siddhattha and Channa rode swiftly southeast all night knowing the
King would send soldiers to force his return. At dawn, they arrived
at the River Anoma. As a sign of renunciation, the Prince cut his
long hair and exchanged his royal robes for beggar's garb. Channa
pleaded to accompany him, but the Prince refused. Comforting the
weeping Channa, and asking him to tell his family not to grieve and
that he would return, Siddhattha asked Channa to return his
princely ornaments. Kanthaka refused to move, but finally returned
Channa to the palace bearing the Prince's last message. It is said
that Kanthaka died of a broken heart.
