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by Bhikkhu Khantipalo |
"As the bird takes his wings
whithersoever it flies, so the bhikkhu goes
with robes and bowl."
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The Dhammapada verses included in this book have been translated by
Bhadanta Buddharakkhita Thera of Bangalore, India.
Glossary ![[go to toc]](../../images/scrollup.gif)
The following Thai words are used in this booklet:
Thudong, (pronounce 'toodong,' from the Pali, dhutanga,
— Austere Practices) — the wandering, ascetical, solitary and
meditative life of some bhikkhus.
Crot, an umbrella with an attachable mosquito net.
Nain, (from Pali, samanera), a novice of under 20
years old undertaking to observe 10 Precepts.
A few Pali words are used occasionally:
Bhikkhu, a fully ordained member of the Sangha over the age
of 20, training himself in the observance of the Patimokkha, that
is, the monastic Code of Discipline. Nearest English translation of
'bhikkhu' is 'monk' — never 'priest'!
Sangha, the community or order of bhikkhus open to people
of all races who desire to lead the holy life in the Dispensation of
the Buddha.
Vihara, The Buddhist equivalent of a 'monastery' (i.e.,
where bhikkhus live), but this English word conjures up so many
misleading ideas that the Buddhist term 'vihara' has been preferred
throughout.
Puja, veneration, worship. In Buddhist practice this is
done with the idea of increasing the skillful qualities (such as
wisdom and devotion) in one's own mind. Propitiation of forces
outside oneself (Gods, etc.), is quite foreign to Buddhadhamma.
Kamma, intentional action, or willed, volitional action.
(In Buddhism, never the result of action.)
Verses for Thudong-faring
From the Sutta-Nipata
Put by the rod for all that lives,
Nor harm thou anyone thereof;
Long not for son — how then for friend?
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Love cometh from companionship;
In wake of love upsurges ill;
Seeing the bane that comes of love,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
In ruth for all his bosom friends,
A man, heart-chained, neglects the goal;
Seeing this fear in fellowship,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Tangled as crowding bamboo boughs
Is fond regard for sons and wife:
As the tall tops are tangle-free,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
The deer untethered roams the wild
Whithersoe'er it lists for food:
Seeing the liberty, wise man,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Casting aside the household gear,
As sheds the coral-tree its leaves,
With home-ties cut, and vigorous,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Seek for thy friend1
the deeply learned,
Dhamma-endued, lucid and great;
Knowing the needs, expelling doubt,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
The heat and cold, and hunger, thirst,
Wind, sun-beat, sting of gadfly, snake:
Surmounting one and all of these,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Crave not for tastes, but free of greed,
Moving with measured step from house
To house, support of none, none's thrall,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Free everywhere, at odds with none,
And well content with this and that:
Enduring dangers undismayed,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Snap thou the fetters as the snare
By river denizen is broke:
As fire to waste comes back no more,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
And turn thy back on joys and pains,
Delights and sorrows known of old;
And gaining poise and calm, and cleansed,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Neglect thou not to muse apart,
'Mid things by Dhamma-faring aye;
Alive to all becomings' bane,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
As lion, mighty-jawed and king
Of beasts, fares conquering, so thou,
Taking thy bed and seat remote,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Poise, amity, ruth and release
Pursue, and timely sympathy;
At odds with none in all the world,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Leaving the vanities of view,
Right method won, the Way obtained:
"I know! No other is my guide!"
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Selected verses of the Rhinoceros Sutta from "Woven
Cadences" (Sutta Nipata), translated by E. M. Hare, and published
in Sacred Books of the Buddhists Series by the Pali Text Society.
Other verses are used in this booklet.
With Robes and Bowl
Preamble: The Bhikkhu Life — The Thirteen Austere Practices
The Triple Gem or the Three Precious Ones are the highest ideals of
the Buddhadhamma. To the Lord Buddha, to the Holy Dhamma (Teaching)
and to the Noble Sangha (Order of Monks) are given veneration by all
Buddhists since they aspire to mould their lives according to the
qualities represented by these three ideals.2
In the English language, there are now a number of books describing
the life of the last Buddha, Gotama, also many explaining what is
meant by the ideal of Buddhahood. Likewise, we have an ever-growing
flood of literature, translations, commentaries and so forth, to help
us understand what is Dhamma. Much less information, however is to be
found on the Sangha, especially upon the bhikkhu-life of the present
day. Of course those living in the Buddhist countries where the Sangha
is established, will know more about it than will those who follow the
Buddha's Path in other lands. It is to give the latter a picture of
bhikkhu-life that this book is written, besides keeping before the
eyes of those living in Buddhists lands, the best traditions of the
Sangha.
While Buddhadhamma is a way for everyone, bhikkhu or lay-follower,
naturally the bhikkhus, since they have fully devoted themselves to
its practice, have more opportunity to penetrate to the heart of the
Teaching. To do this, they must, as indeed anyone who wishes to do so,
obtain experience in its three trainings (ti-sikkha): Learning (pariyatti),
Practice (patipatti) and Penetration (pativedha). These
lead on one from the other, thus making both of the first two
necessary. Without Learning, one's Practice (of keeping the Precepts,
Meditation) is liable to stray away from Correct Understanding (samma-ditthi).
Without Practice, learning is just barren as far as the fruits of
Penetration are concerned.
Commentaries written later upon the ancient Buddha-word give new
names to Learning and Practice, calling the former Book-work (gantha-dhura)
and the latter Insight-work (vipassana-dhura). It may have been
already in early times that a tendency appeared to concentrate upon
either one or the other as though they were alternative ways rather
than complementary steps. This tendency, which has persisted into the
present, seems to be an expression of human frailty, for it is much
easier to study the scriptures and become learned,3
while largely setting aside the practice, especially meditation, than
it is to get down and practice all that has been learned.
This separation is however, far from absolute since many bhikkhus
gain a groundwork of Learning and then leave the city temples where
they have studied for a Meditation Teacher's forest dwelling, there to
take up the Practice which will lead, in due course, to Penetration of
the Dhamma.
Although one may gather something of the life of the Insight-work
bhikkhus from ancient sources, nothing seems to have been written
regarding them in the present day. Hence this short account which
attempts to outline their life as found in Thailand (the position in
other Buddhist countries is unknown to the writer).
A bhikkhu undertaking Insight-work bases his life upon the three
great foundations. These are: strict observance of the Rules of
Training (as contained in the Vinaya-Discipline) which he has
undertaken to keep at the time of his Acceptance (the higher
ordination — Upasampada). He is one who takes the earnest
exhortation of Lord Buddha to heart:
"Devoted to virtue should you dwell, O Bhikkhu, devoted to the
discipline of the Sangha and restrained by that discipline! Perfect
should be your conduct and behavior! Seeing danger in even the
slightest fault, you should train yourself in the rules which you
have accepted."
Secondly, he follows his Meditation Teacher in the application of
the Austere Practices (dhutanga), being guided by him as
to how and to what extent he should practice them. The first
foundation above ensures purification and the removal of obstacles
while the second gives rise to strong renunciation and to contentment
with little. Thus both become good, indeed necessary, bases for the
third foundation of his life, the actual Meditation Practice (bhavana).
Something should now be said about these Austere Practices.4
Lord Buddha refused to allow extreme asceticism, with which he had
experimented before his Enlightenment. However, he did recognize that
a certain degree of austerity would be useful in the training of
bhikkhus. For instance, we find that in the Four Nissaya (supports)
recited to a bhikkhu upon the occasion of his ordination, he is to:
(1) wear rag robes, (2) eat almsfood, (3) dwell at the foot of a tree,
(4) have fermented cow's urine for medicine.
Further, we see from the lives of many bhikkhus in the time of Lord
Buddha that the Dhutangas were widely practiced, for the early Sangha
was a community in which the wandering, meditative life was the normal
one. As examples we have the greatly venerated Maha-Kassapa who was
acclaimed by Lord Buddha as the foremost among those who lead austere
lives; while the first of his disciples to gain insight into the
Dhamma, Añña Kondañña, dwelt secluded throughout his life in the
depths of the forest.
With the establishment of permanent viharas, which began even in
the Lord Buddha's days, together with the necessity of preserving the
Buddha-word, memorizing and learning came to have increased
importance. Not all learned bhikkhus practiced and thus Dhutangas were
left for those who wished to practice meditation.
It was also stressed that for a person whose character was strongly
rooted in hatred (dosa), these Austere Practices would not be
appropriate, being liable to increase self-hatred. On the other hand,
with characters rooted in greed (lobha), faith (saddha)
and mixed-rooted (so-called 'balanced') characters, the dhutangas
could help greatly in the cultivation of renunciation and contentment.
The differences between a thudong bhikkhu and one who practices
severe asceticism (some yogis in Hinduism, some Christian monks, etc.)
are worth noting. The latter start with some species of view that
there is a permanent spiritual entity (atman, soul) enclosed
in, or even imprisoned by, the fleshly body begotten of and begetting
further the so-called 'lusts of the flesh.' Holding to such a view,
the body becomes something despicable and then hateful as it seems to
thwart one's search for the spiritual. Then follows 'mortification of
the flesh' to quell the evil arising from the possession of such a
body (see for instance, the case of Henry de Suso (Heinrich Seuse)
related in William James' Varieties of Religious Experience).
Such attempts to 'control' desires are really only extreme examples of
repression effected by means of self-inflicted torture. To begin to do
this, one must hold a view which hates the body and the outcome of
such asceticism will be greatly increased body-hatred. Masochistic
tendencies, where present, will also be gratified. All this can hardly
be said to indicate a healthy psychological state and Lord Buddha has
many times criticized these ways as unskillful (akusala). His
words found in the Dhammapada (verse 304) show the insufficiency of
'exterior' asceticism, which must fail to accomplish salvation.
"What is the use of your matted hair, O witless man! What use
your garment of antelope's hide? Within you is a tangle (of
passions); outwardly you clean yourself."
In Buddhist Teaching, the inter-dependence of mind-body (nama-rupa)
is emphasized. Moreover, it is the mind which has charge at the helm,
while materiality (rupa) is a passenger. As the Dhammapada
stresses in its first and second verses: "Mind precedes all
states and is their chief, they are all mind-wrought..."
A Buddhist knows that he has acquired his present body through his
own craving (tanha) and that it is in the mind that one
must look to find the source of all unskill including all types of
greed and all hatred whether for self or other. The Dhutangas are
therefore a mainly physical discipline with a psychological basis and
are invaluable as a complement to the greater part of the Dhamma which
is a psychological discipline based on materiality (i.e., the
'possession' of a human body). The thudong bhikkhu thus makes use of
these practices in so far as they help him to discipline himself in
the promotion of skillful mental states like renunciation and
contentment.
These thirteen Austere Practices allowed by Lord Buddha5
have been characterized as a moderate and sane ascesis; they are as
follows:
I. Refuse-rag-wearer's Practice (pamsukulik'anga) — wearing
robes made up from discarded or soiled cloth and not accepting and
wearing ready-made robes offered by householders.
II. Triple-robe-wearer's Practice (tecivarik'anga) —
Having and wearing only three robes and not having additional
allowable robes.
III. Alms-food-eater's Practice (pindapatik'anga) —
eating only food collected on pindapata or the almsround while not
accepting food in the vihara or offered by invitation in a layman's
house.
IV. House-to-house-seeker's Practice (sapadanik'anga) —
not omitting any house while going for alms; not choosing only to go
to rich households or those selected for some other reason as
relations, etc.
V. One-sessioner's practice (ekasanik'anga) — eating one
meal a day and refusing other food offered before midday. (Those
Gone Forth may not, unless ill, partake of food from midday until
dawn the next day.)
VI. Bowl-food-eater's Practice (pattapindik'anga) —
eating food from his bowl in which it is mixed together rather than
from plates and dishes.
VII. Later-food-refuser's Practice (khalu-paccha-bhattik'anga)
— not taking any more food after one has shown that one is
satisfied, even though lay-people wish to offer more.
VIII. Forest-dweller's Practice (Araññik'anga) — not
dwelling in a town or village but living secluded, away from all
kinds of distractions.
IX. Tree-root-dweller's Practice (rukkhamulik'anga) —
living under a tree without the shelter of a roof.
X. Open-air-dweller's Practice (abbhokasik'anga) —
refusing a roof and a tree-root, the practice may be undertaken
sheltered by a tent of robes.
XI. Charnel-ground-dweller's Practice (susanik'anga) —
living in or nearby a charnel-field, graveyard or cremation ground.
XII. Any-bed-user's Practice (yatha-santhatik'anga) —
being satisfied with any dwelling allotted as a sleeping place.
XIII. Sitter's Practice (nesajjik'anga) — living in the
three postures of walking, standing and sitting and never lying
down.
It will be noticed that the dhutangas help a bhikkhu to find
contentment with the first three of his Four Requisites (paccaya):
Robes (No's I, II), Almsfood (III-VII) and Shelter (VIII-XIII); the
fourth of his Requisites, not covered here, is Medicine.
As regards their present practice in Thailand, III, V, VI, and VII
are most commonly found amongst thudong bhikkhus. Having and wearing
only three robes is also widely practiced (II). Individual thudong
bhikkhus may gather rags, stitch them together, dye and then wear them
although made-up robes are so plentiful that this not so common (I).
The fourth practice is the normal kind of almsround in many Thai
villages where every house gives a spoonful or so of rice to every
bhikkhu. In the towns, IV is not practiced, it being more usual for
bhikkhus to have a few houses where he is invited to call each day.
All thudong viharas comply with VII. The next two are practiced
subject to the conditions of the weather for fierce sun or torrential
rain make them both impossible. The eleventh may be recommended by a
teacher for the practice of some of his disciples according to
character while XII is a special aspect of that contentment which all
bhikkhus must cultivate. The last Dhutanga has been mentioned below as
a communal practice in some viharas upon Uposatha-day. When a bhikkhu
practices this individually, he will usually only do so after
consulting his teacher and, lest conceit arise, he will take care that
others do not know that he practices in this way. It is likewise true
of all these practices that they are to be undertaken in seclusion and
a real thudong bhikkhu always shuns the public gaze. The Buddhist
Dictionary says, quoting the Puggala-paññatti: "These
exercises are however properly observed if they are taken up only for
the sake of frugality, of contentment, of purity, etc."
The Thai word 'thudong,' however, has a rather wider connotation
than that of these practices themselves. It is applied to anything
connected with them and thus we have: thudong-vihara, thudong-bowl,
thudong-life and so on. As the Dhutangas may be practiced either
strictly, middlingly, or mildly according to the standards laid down
in the Visuddhimagga, so there are many variations in thudong
practice and different teachers place different emphases and therefore
different viharas have different conditions.
For 2500 years and more, this thudong life has been lived by
bhikkhus in many different lands. Not much can be found to record
their life since those who take the thudong way are not usually
writers and carry out their practice in seclusion. In Thailand, many
of the ancient records, religious and secular, were destroyed in the
conflagration of the capital Ayuthaya in 1767 CE. Still, we know that
there were before that time, many Araññika (forest-dwelling)
bhikkhus. Probably our oldest records now are the temple wall
paintings from the early reigns of the present dynasty. They
illustrate thudong bhikkhus undertaking the thirteen practices
according to the three grades of strictness.
At the present time there are a good number of viharas where this
way of life with its three foundations is taught by experienced
teachers. Most of them prefer to be well away from the commotion of
city life, the distractions and luxuries of which are far removed from
the thudong ideal.
Finally, it is interesting to record that a large stupa (or cetiya,
— 'relic-monument') with thirteen white pinnacles piercing the blue
sky, is now being completed in a large thudong vihara named after that
great Indian monarch who helped in widely disseminating the Buddha's
Teaching, the Emperor Asoka. In the topmost cetiya will be enshrined
relics of Lord Buddha whose life was this very thudong way, while
below will be placed the ashes of a famous meditation teacher who had
followed his Great Master's way with devotion, until his recent death.
Daily Life
Control of the senses, contentment, restraint according to the
Patimokkha and association with friends who are noble, energetic and
pure in life, these are the very basis of the holy life for the wise
bhikkhu.
The bhikkhu who abides in the Dhamma, who delights in the Dhamma,
meditates on the Dhamma, and who bears the Dhamma well in mind, does
not fall away from the sublime Dhamma —
(Dhp. 375, 364)
It is rather difficult to write about the thudong bhikkhu's daily
life as the conditions in which they live are so different. However,
there are certain features of this life which are general and these
may be taken as a basis for this outline.
The material which is presented in this and succeeding sections is
composite in origin, some of it being experience heard from others and
more again being stories told of others. Therefore we shall speak of
'the bhikkhu' or 'our thudong bhikkhu' and present all these varied
sources under this anonymous label. While doing this, it should be
borne in mind that much of what will be said is quite common
experience for those following the thudong life.
Wherever the thudong bhikkhu is, whether in a cave, in the forest,
or in some other solitary place, his day begins early and with
stirred-up vigour he rises. All is quiet except for the night-sounds
of some insects and perhaps the swishings of bats — and at such a
time, long before dawn, say two or three o'clock, conditions are
excellent for the practice of meditation. Of course, our bhikkhu,
unless he is very skilled, will have to shake off Mara, (the
personification of evil) in the guise of sloth-and-torpor (thina-middha),
for this aspect of the Evil One would urge him to loll abed until
daybreak. Instead he rises and after refreshing himself, fixes his
mind upon his meditation- subject which he had put down the night
before upon going to sleep. Making the triple prostration to the Three
Jewels, quietly intoning, "Namo tassa..." and perhaps the
Three Refuges, the bhikkhu, his mind rightly directed and guarded,
settles into his meditation. The extent to which he is able to fix his
mind upon his subject, to prevent the arising of the five hindrances6
(pañca nivarana) and make it more and more one-pointed, will
depend of course upon his own progress and ability. The two greatest
obstacles which he will encounter will be the sloth-and-torpor already
mentioned above, and distraction (uddhacca); and between these
two his mind is liable to vacillate as Odysseus' boat dodging between
Scylla and Charybdis. Being wrecked upon one or the other will be a
common experience for him in the beginning. When he finds his mind to
be like a fountain bubbling up ideas, phantasies, memories,
anticipations and so forth, he sits firmly upon his seat unmoving
employing mindfulness (satipatthana) until the mind becomes
quiet. But when sleepiness creeps into his mind and interferes with
his bodily posture, then he gets up and practices his meditation while
walking up and down. If he is settled for some time in a cave or in
the forest, he will have made his walking place (cankamana)
even, and neither too long nor too short. Pacing steadily up and down,
sleepiness leaves both the mind and body and after some time, with the
mind made one-pointed, he may try standing practice. After bringing
the mind to a fully quiet and one-pointed condition in this position,
he may return to fruitful practice sitting-down.
His practice will be concluded when the cockerels, birds or
alarm-clock
inform him that daybreak is at hand. Then, if he has them,
he will offer a candle and a few sticks of incense and, having
reverently prostrated, our bhikkhu will intone his morning puja to the
Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha. The standard formulas for this, found so
many times in the Pali Canon, gain deeper and deeper meanings which
become clear to him as his devotion (saddha) deepens and as his
practice makes progress. Indeed, when our bhikkhu's calm is well
established, the slowly chanted phrases do not disturb at all and they
may even be the basis for insight (vipassana). He may
supplement these standard chants with others selected according to
individual preference or tradition: among the latter will be the
meditation chant upon the 32 Parts of the Body, the Pali of each
repulsive part being followed by a translation into his own language,
just to make their significance quite clear. This may well be balanced
by the meditation chants of loving-kindness (metta), first
filling himself with this spirit to get rid of inward conflict and
then spreading out his loving kindness to other beings.7
It is also usual to chant the Recollection-before-use of the Four
Requisites of a bhikkhu (robes, almsfood, shelter and medicines.) The
reason for doing this is that the true purposes of the Requisites then
readily come to mind during the day when he is actually using them.
Finally, our bhikkhu chants a sincere wish that the merits which have
accrued through this chanting, be made over for the good of all
beings. Perhaps, being in Thailand, he may use the beautiful, "Ya
devata santi viharavasini...," even more excellent when
intoned in the rising and falling 'sarabhañña' style of
chanting. This chant is now beloved in Thailand since apart from the
merit of its meaning and the euphony of style, it was composed by the
greatly respected and deeply religious king, Phra Chom Klao, known to
the West as King Mongkut (reigned C.E. 1851-1868).
Now is the time for our bhikkhu to prepare himself to obtain that
medicine which will allay but not cure the greatest disease —
hunger. He will see that his bowl is in order, clean and tightly bound
in its sling. Then rolling his two upper robes together (uttarasanga
and sanghati), he is ready to set out. A few remaining possessions may
be secured by him in his bag and hung up in some safe place to await
his return; however, his three robes should go with him since in
ancient days cloth was not always easy to obtain and even now the
double outer 'cloak' (sanghati) is expensive to make and must thus be
guarded carefully.
Many things may happen on his almsround (pindapata), the
subject of another booklet in this series.8
His almsround is not only to collect food for himself since it serves
two other important aspects in Buddhist life. On the one hand he gives
lay-people a chance to make merit (puñña) by their acts of
giving, while on the other he trains himself in many good qualities at
this time, for as he goes his way collecting food, so he cultivates
humility, loving-kindness and compassion, mindfulness and perhaps his
meditation subject.
Having taken sufficient food to last the day and knowing at the
same time moderation in quantity, the bowl has then to be washed and
dried carefully so that it will not rust, returned to its sling and
tied to its stand, being then ready to be taken anywhere.
If the bhikkhu is temporarily resident in one place, he will then
engage in some walking up and down. This is in accordance with one of
the discourses of Lord Buddha which recommends this form of meditation
exercise to ward off sleepiness after having taken what is usually a
substantial meal. Having thus established himself once again in
mindfulness, he may take up any work which has to be done. It is
difficult to list all the possible jobs that he may do at this time
but readers should realize that he tries to be as self-sufficient as
is practicable. Even though he has but few things (see section on
"Wandering"), these have to be kept in good repair. For
instance, it is important for him to keep his robes mended. Going
through jungles, thorns catch and tear and there is always ordinary
wear and tear; in fact, the thudong bhikkhu is well aware of the
household truth — 'A stitch in time, saves nine.' A thudong
bhikkhu's robes are usually well-patched and look as though they have
seen long service. Or he may make certain things from bamboo or wood,
and many a thudong bhikkhu is very skillful at such manufacture. A
bowl-stand is needed or the bamboo shafts of his crot
(umbrella-cum-mosquito-net) must be replaced, or he may make
quantities of toothbrush-and-picks out of bitter wood to give to other
bhikkhus. Our bhikkhu may be conversant with the medicinal properties
of the herbs, trees and climbers which grow all about him, and
compound from these, with honey, milk, red peppers and fruits,
medicines for many diseases. Then again, he may manufacture out of
tins, wire and fine white cloth, a collapsible candle-lamp which no
wind can blow out; or perhaps he is gifted in the ability to carve and
if so he may fashion small pieces of hardwood or ivory into images of
Lord Buddha. He may, if he lives in a cave, like to adorn the mighty
walls of his residence with drawings of the Buddha all executed in
simple colors from the earth round about.
If there were many thudong bhikkhus in this world, they would truly
be the bane of modern commerce which insists that man's happiness
depends on having many things and that he buys them in particular and
new brands, from others. Quite contrary to all this is the thudong
bhikkhu, whose ways are directly set against the worldly stream where
it is not a multitude of things impermanent which bring happiness —
but contentment with little. Thus lightened of the clutter of things
he goes more swiftly towards his goal of Enlightenment.
Or, if his pindapata has been long and his food got with
difficulty, he may feel bodily tiredness and lie down mindfully. This
is usually done by lying on the right side placing a supporting roll
of robes (or pillow if he has one) under the upper half of the body,
the head being supported in the palm of the right hand while the elbow
of that arm rests on the ground. This was the lying posture
recommended by Lord Buddha and balanced thus, it is not possible to go
to sleep while mindfulness will be maintained.
Whenever he feels that his body is light, all tiredness gone, we
should picture our bhikkhu sitting down cross-legged upon his
sitting-cloth and arousing mindfulness and all the other salutary
factors of meditation, and then striving to succeed, or perhaps
succeeding in his subject of meditation. He may sit for many hours at
a stretch especially if he is skilled, or he may vary his sitting with
more walking and even, if his back becomes tired, with lying down. The
latter posture can only be practiced during the day as sleep is liable
to overcome him if he lies down during the hours of darkness. He may
also find it helpful in moments of mental stress or when he is
experiencing too much of the monkey-mind.
His meditation time will take him round to early evening when, the
heat of the day over, it is the usual time to do the sweeping. If he
lives in a meditation-vihara there may be large areas to sweep. If in
a hut in the forest, then only his hut and its surroundings. But this
work is quite unnecessary for one who is living under his crot
wherever he has pitched it and he will probably not have a broom
anyway. General mindfulness at this time is accompanied by the
'sweeping reflection': Just as this broom is sweeping away dust, so
may this meditation practice sweep away the defilements (kilesa).
There are some other excellencies to sweeping: for instance it is a
chance to test the strength of the calm (samatha) which has
been developed mostly in the sitting posture. Also it is good exercise
for the body after sitting still most of the day. Our bhikkhu does his
sweeping rhythmically and silently.
Next comes the time for bathing, perhaps in a forest pool or river.
Taking his bathing-cloth our bhikkhu goes — not with the worldly
idea of enjoying the water but bearing in mind an aspect of his body's
repulsiveness which makes it necessary to bathe. He reflects: having
got this body through craving (tanha), one has daily to wipe
off the sweat which oozes out of it, and the dirt which sticks to it,
otherwise if would quickly become evil-smelling and unbearable both to
oneself and to others. This also applies to his robes which require
washing frequently while at this time he may occasionally have to dye
his robes.
Returning, still bearing his meditation-subject in mind if he is
able, there may be some allowable drink awaiting him at his abode to
refresh him further. Nains (novices) are expert at preparing these
from jungle fruits adding sugar or honey, while if hunger disturbs him
much, one of the bitter fruits allowed in the Vinaya may be taken with
salt, sugar and perhaps some chili. Before he takes these, he will
reflect carefully upon the real reason for doing so, according to the
passage repeated in his morning puja.
If we were watching him, we should soon notice the care that he
takes so that no small creatures come to destruction. Before he pours
out his drink, he inspects the glass to see whether ants or other
insects are inside. If there are, he removes them very gently to a
safe place. In lifting the glass and putting it down, he takes the
same care and even when a mosquito alights on his body, it is not
squashed but blown away for even the smallest creatures must not come
to death either through his intention or through negligence.
Harmlessness (ahimsa) has for him many practical applications.
The time has come now for his evening meditation and taking his
seat refreshed in body, he makes further endeavors in governing the
mind. Perhaps before he begins, Lord Buddha's oft-repeated exhortation
comes to mind: "What a master can do for his disciples, wishing
them well, out of compassion and sympathy, that I have done for you.
Here, O bhikkhus, are the roots of trees and secluded places. Practice
meditation, O bhikkhus! Be not negligent lest you regret it later!
This is my exhortation to you." And so we may imagine him sitting
long into the night, as long in fact, as he can keep off sleepiness.
When this becomes too pressing, he lights a candle and some incense
and begins his night chanting. If he knows much Pali, this may
continue for a long while softly and steadily proceeding with that
euphony peculiar to this ancient language. It is recorded in
commentarial stories that the gods came to listen to the Pali chanting
of those bhikkhus living in wild places, who had pure hearts.
At last finishing, after again making over all merits for beings'
happiness (for one should not have greed even for merit), he lies down
mindfully bearing in mind his meditation-subject and the necessity of
arising early to proceed with his practice.
The Hand of Death
Ere long, alas, will this body lie upon the earth, unheeded and
lifeless, even as a useless log.
(Dhp. 41)
Living in sylvan solitudes is not always, alas, ideal, for dukkha
must show its fangs from time to time to remind our bhikkhu, if indeed
he needs reminding, that it is in a world subject to birth and death
that he lives. Having got himself into the condition of being born, he
and all other beings will surely die.
This lesson he learned from close acquaintance for he recently lost
a good companion. He was an intelligent young man recently ordained as
a nain, one who would have been well capable of understanding the
Dhamma. He was able to live the thudong life and to enjoy it to his
profit — a not inconsiderable combination of factors.
His life ended suddenly when he was about twenty years old, for he
fell over a forty-foot cliff and dashed his brains upon the rocks
below. Our bhikkhu was the first person to reach the nain after having
raced down a circuitous path. Little enough could he do. Telling
another nain to run into the nearest village for a stretcher, he knelt
beside his only other companion on the rocky hill where they lived.
The nain's breathing still functioned but in great, irregular gasps.
Blood, already clotted, oozed from the sundered skull and trickled
from many other cuts and bruises upon the body, arms and legs. Death
was near at hand.
Taking a rosary from his bag, the bhikkhu opened one of the nain's
hands and placed it there. It would thus act as a skillful object of
touch (phassarammana), if the nain's touch-consciousness still
functioned. After sprinkling him with cooling water, he began to
intone the suttas (discourses) for protection (paritta). This
he did so that there would be a skillful sound-object (saddarammana)
upon which the nain's death-consciousness (cutti-citta) could
be concentrated. Though he tried to chant steadily and evenly, to give
confidence to the dying nain — if indeed he heard him, his voice was
not without trembling.
The minutes drew on and after the opening salutation of "Namo
tassa...," the Karaniya Metta Sutta (on loving-kindness), the
Maha-mangala Sutta (on the greatest blessings), and the Ratana Sutta
followed each other.9
As the closing words of the last sutta: "Sangham namassama,
suvatti hotu (To the Sangha let us bow: May bliss abound!)" —
as these words were softly chanted upon the shimmering air, a last
breath arose and gaspingly fell — and the body was still. His good
companion had passed on according to his kamma and as the bhikkhu
earnestly vowed: May it truly be to a better state of affairs than
this! After that, if only to relieve his own mind — and who knows,
perhaps his erstwhile friend could still hear him in his new condition
— he intoned further the Buddha Jayamangala stanzas with their
refrain of: "By the power of this (truth) may you be endowed with
victory and blessings."
It is widely believed in Buddhist lands that merits (puñña)
are transferable providing that one has a compassion deep enough with
others and a wisdom grown great. For the well-faring of the dead nain,
his friend made over to him all and any merits which he might have
accumulated, including those gathered by the recitation of these
hallowed scriptures.
* * *
We take up the story again three days later when bhikkhus have
gathered for reciting the traditional chants for the dead. The father
of the dead nain has also arrived. The chanting is solemn indeed and
rolls on sonorously through the tropic night, spreading its peaceful
sound far beyond the range of the pressure lamps which light up but a
small circle in the bamboo forest. Seated upon mats covering the
ground lay-people listen reverently with joined palms (anjali),
while the chanting proceeds. Our bhikkhu, seated with others upon some
more mats, concentrates all his attention upon the chanting, making it
proceed not from the throat but deep down from the heart.
At its conclusion, there is some informal talk upon Dhamma
especially regarding death and kamma and then more general
conversation opens concerning what arrangements should be made. A
westerner might notice, if one had been present, that although this
ceremony roughly corresponded to a funeral service, no one was
weeping, or even looking particularly sad — and certainly not the
father of the late nain. Whatever tears there had been over his death,
they were long since over and quickly stopped by such Buddhist
recollections as the fact that rebirth takes place according to kamma
and that nothing of this can be changed by weeping. And again, the
injunction to live in the present without attachment to the past which
is irreclaimably gone. And the reflection that rebirth may already be
accomplished and (it is always sincerely hoped) be superior in
happiness to this state; would it not be strange to be miserable
because someone else was now more happy than he was in this life?
Putting aside all self-pity which makes for most of the tears at
death, a good Buddhist concentrates upon the situation now and
sees what can best be accomplished in the present.
The conversation has turned to the customary presentation, in this
case by the father, of robes (civara) upon the death of a
relative. Sometimes ready-made robes are laid upon the coffin and
received by bhikkhus as pamsukula (intentionally cast-off
cloth); at other times, white cloth is similarly given to be made up
into robes. The strictest practice and one which is followed by a few
thudong bhikkhus is to take cloth which has been used as a
corpse-wrapping and make this into robes — this is a practice from
the time of the Lord Buddha and such robes may truly be called
'rag-robes.'10
Our bhikkhu wishes to benefit from the present circumstances so as to
obtain such a robe. The father of the dead nain has already bought
about twenty yards of white cloth for pamsukula robes. This has then
to be inserted into the coffin and then to be extracted at the time of
burning. Later, our bhikkhu will cut it up and sew it to make
traditional patchwork pattern and the robes that he makes from this
cloth will ever remind him of death, by stains and smell for some time
and for longer by the memory of how they were obtained.
The next day, food being finished, our bhikkhu turns his attention
to the large coffin which rests under some trees. Candles and incense,
the Buddhist symbols respectively of Enlightenment and of the perfume
of strict morality (sila), are burning round about. As he
approaches the coffin, the smell grows stronger — the peculiarly
repulsive smell of a human body's decay, which spreads its sweetly
sickening odors for many yards about. It is not without some
apprehension of what he will see upon raising the lid that he
proceeds, for he has read the descriptions of bodily decay as used for
meditation purposes but reading does not satisfy him, the bhikkhu
wishes to see for himself.
Lifting the lid, he gazes within and is immediately and deeply
impressed that these descriptions as found for instance in the
Satipatthana Sutta,11
are but poor substitutes for beholding the real thing. His companion
in life was a handsome young man, even with his hair shaved off: this
body which lay before him was quite as hideous as temple
wall-paintings sometimes show and emphasized for him that words are
quite inadequate for portraying such sights.
So, the young nain with unblemished body and pleasing face died but
three days before and now what does our bhikkhu perceive? His
companion is certainly not there! This puffed, distorted, oozing mass,
blueish in color is not the man he knew! Nothing resembles him. Three
days have sufficed to change everything. Gaining this insight and the
perception of impurity in even living bodies — what to speak of dead
ones — he continues with the work he has set out to do. The body is
already covered by the stained robes of the late nain and the white
cloth is laid over this. Having completed his work, he reseals the
coffin to await the time of cremation. As the lid is replaced so the
stench grows less but the whole experience has burned itself deep into
his mind and will not lessen. Indeed, he may develop it into a
fruitful meditation when he sees with inward sight his own body
not only as liable to such a condition but actually experiences the
body (not then 'his' body) as being in such a state.
Climbing back to his dwelling high above the forest, he muses:
Where such a terrible sight as this can be found so soon originating
from apparently pleasing conditions — where such and worse can be
found, what sort of world is this? Who will waste their lives after
such a perception? Who will longer be deluded by the sugar-coating of
the world's sense-attractions after seeing thus? Will they not rather
sense the bitter pill beneath? Is this not the time to turn away from
those conditions giving rise to the bitterness? Is it not the time to
devote oneself to that Dhamma which is "lovely at its beginning,
lovely in its middle course, and lovely at its ending"? Some such
thoughts as these, our bhikkhu thinks.
For those who can do more, this is the time to join those millions
who have gone forth like our bhikkhu with robes and bowl, rejecting
all that the world values, and seeking to reject both ignorance and
craving (avijja-tanha), those twin conditions for bitterness,
to win in the Dispensation of the Conqueror, that Enlightenment which
he also won.
So urges the Enlightened One:
"Shed thou householder's finery,
As coral tree its leaves in fall:
And going forth in yellow clad,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
And rid of passion, error, hate,
The fetters having snapped in twain
Fearless when as life ebbs away
Fare lonely as rhinoceros."
Thudong Abodes
The bhikkhu who has retired to a solitary abode and has calmed his
mind and who comprehends the Dhamma with insight — in him there
arises a delight that transcends all human delight.
(Dhp. 373)
Our bhikkhu will live anywhere that is conducive to his practice of
meditation and to winning insight but certain types of abode are
generally more suitable for him than others.
From ancient times a favorite dwelling-place of the thudong bhikkhu
has been a cave, indeed this is really the best environment providing
that a suitable one can be found. Not all are good for meditation and
our bhikkhu upon arriving at a cave new to him would inspect it with
the following points in mind.
People are very fond of making caves into shrines — and some of
these are very beautiful with hundreds or thousands of Buddha-figures
of different sizes ranged about the cave, sitting on blocks of stone
and stalagmite near to the floor and gazing down compassionately from
apparently inaccessible niches near the lofty roof. Such caves and
others more rustic acquire fame as places of pilgrimage in proportion
to their beauty and ease of approach. Now, if our bhikkhu were to make
his sitting place in some such cave, he would surely be disturbed by
the people visiting the shrine. Apart from the noise that they make,
some would certainly approach him, perhaps trying to engage him in
ordinary conversation, or coming to ask for charms or blessings, since
popular ideas of 'holiness' are rather less exacting or more vague
than the freedom from the fetters (samyojana) which mark a
Noble One (ariya) according to the Pali Canon. Therefore, if he
does not wish to instruct in Dhamma, much less to engage in worldly
matters, he will avoid all such caves.
Apart from people, bats are also fond of caves in the dark depths
of which they live in their thousands. They also make their noises,
cheeping and swishing about, but their noises are much less
objectionable than is the smell of their dung. This is very good for
growing plants but less agreeable to a meditator's nose. Usually, they
will not live near to the cave entrance, especially if the sun comes
in and so, other conditions being favorable, our bhikkhu may live
there.
Other conditions include sound and heat. In this noisy age, rackety
iron boxes of various shapes travel over land, water and through the
air and their sound is surprisingly hard to escape from. It is
understandable therefore that caves adjacent to airfields, motorways
or railways, will also be avoided.
The great advantage of a cave in a tropical country is its equable
temperature. Cool even on the hottest days of the hot season, and warm
in the coldest nights of the cold weather, it is very favorable for a
meditating bhikkhu. Caves which have wide openings to the south or
west are therefore less suitable for the hot weather. Other
inconveniences to consider are the danger of falling rocks and the
presence of carbon dioxide. Also, it sometimes happens that earth
godlings (bhummadevata) take up their residence in caves and
not all of them will welcome a bhikkhu staying there as this will
interfere with their pleasures. Indeed, there are stories of bhikkhus
being evicted by spirits but there is at least one instance of an
experienced bhikkhu (lately a famous meditation teacher in this
country) who sat night after night in a cave defeating all the efforts
of godlings to oust him. Our bhikkhu, if he is wise, seeks for the
protection of any gods there abiding, when he first arrives at a cave.
With gods giving their blessing to his efforts, meditation certainly
becomes easier; while, if the opposite should occur, it may be
impossible.
Finally, a consideration of great importance: its distance from the
nearest village. As most thudong bhikkhus go to collect alms every day
and as bhikkhus are not allowed to store food, so a village must be
within walking distance. How far this is depends upon the vigour and
age of our bhikkhu. Half a mile or a mile's distance is desirable in
any case being thus beyond village noises but it does happen that a
cave otherwise ideal may be too far from the village for the bhikkhu
to walk there and back. In this case the villagers will help the
bhikkhu by taking their food out half-way.
He may find that living in a cave is a little eerie at first and
should any "fear, trembling or hair-raising" take place, no
doubt he will at least remember the Metta Sutta (Lord Buddha's
discourse on loving-kindness). Also well-fitted for recitation at such
a time is the Discourse on the Flags (Dhajagga Sutta) where the
medicines recommended for fear are the Recollections of the Buddha,
Dhamma and Sangha. If our bhikkhu is still better read in the Pali
Canon, he will remember the Discourse on Fear and Dread (Bhayabherava
Sutta in Majjhima Nikaya) where Lord Buddha describes the
way in which he trained himself to be mindful of fear while he was yet
a Bodhisatta (Wisdom-being striving for Buddhahood).
What sort of picture do we get of our bhikkhu in his cave? If he is
staying long he will probably have built himself a bamboo or wooden
pallet above which will hang his crot. To one side somewhere, hang his
bag and candle-lamp. Near to him will be a water-flask and, if it is
dark, possibly a torch. His bowl is placed securely on a flat rock
while any robes which he is not using are folded up neatly upon his
pallet. He is sitting quietly facing the direction of his head when
laying down.12
If one were to watch intently, it would be difficult to detect even
breath movements in his body, swathed as it is in rather shabby
patched robes of folded ochre. Above him, the roof vaults in great
arches and mysterious hollows half-lit by the dim light. Steady and
distant is the dripping of water which makes through long ages great
columns slowly joining roof and floor. Sunlight filters through a
leafy screen for a few minutes and is gone and perhaps a bee drones in
but finding little of interest soon finds its way out. All is very
still, very silent.
* * *
He who sits alone, sleeps alone, walks alone,
who is strenuous and subdues himself alone,
will find delight in the solitude of the forest.13
(Dhp. 305)
Caves are by far the best abode but they, especially ideal ones,
are rare so that we should go on to describe something of the more
common 'home' of thudong bhikkhus — the forest.
The advantages of dwelling in the forest are several. First, there
is much of it in many Buddhist countries. Then, as it is the sort of
place where most men do not like to live (except they are secure and
comfortable in a strong house), the thudong bhikkhu is not likely to
be disturbed, not at any rate by his fellow-men. Like other thudong
abodes, it conduces to contentment with little; also, it makes very
necessary the development of metta or loving-kindness.14
Besides advantages, there are quite a number of possible hindrances
to practice while forest-dwelling. For instance, metta is made rather
essential by the presence of all sorts of potentially antipathetic
creatures, the most dangerous of which are snakes. This is certainly
emphasized in the Pali Canon by the presence of a special chant, the
Khanda Paritta, in which the person chanting stresses that he has
metta towards and does no harm to all creatures including four species
of snakes.
There is a little story to illustrate this. An old Buddhist nun was
living in a small hut close to the jungle. Her hut had one doorway and
she usually sat on the bamboo floor for meditation against the
opposite wall. She was quite accustomed to see the tails of large
lizards appear out of the thatch overhead where they lived.
Occasionally they fell out but being quite harmless, they would
scamper away quickly. One day, hearing such a bump on her floor, she
opened her eyes but instead of seeing a lizard, there was an angry
snake of the poisonous species coiling and uncoiling itself. Instantly
recollecting the meditation on metta, she pervaded herself and the
whole hut with this spirit. The snake which lay between her and the
door and had been threatening to strike her now quietly coiled up and
after a few minutes, slithered out of the doorway. This anecdote
illustrates quite a common occurrence for one dwelling in the jungle:
how a meditator can be brought into close proximity with the untamed
animal world. Is it necessary to stress further the value of metta in
such surroundings?
While the power of Lord Buddha's metta was so great that he could
calm the rutting wild elephant Nalagiri, there have been many thudong
bhikkhus up to modern times who have lived continuously in the forest
developing the Brahma-viharas15
(the Divine Abidings — in loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic
joy and equanimity), and with whom forest animals become friends. For
the man who has love — and no fear because no hatred — of other
creatures, those creatures will not fear him. In this connection there
are a number of Jataka stories which tell of the Bodhisatta's life in
the forest when, living in a hermitage, all manner of animals became
his companions.
Still, there do seem to be some creatures which do not respond so
well to metta and therefore, returning to the case of our thudong
bhikkhu, he will be wise not to spread his sitting cloth over the
entrance to an ants' nest, nor to pitch his crot near places where
stagnant water lies. Regarding the latter, he would be courting the
attentions of vast numbers of hungry mosquitoes. The crot is an
effective protection against but it can be hot inside while cooler air
blows without. So if a place can be found fairly free of mosquitoes,
at least during the day, our bhikkhu will abide more happily. As to
ants, they come in all shapes and colors and a good range of sizes and
mill about everywhere and our bhikkhu knows that it is safe to assume
that all bite, so it is well to stay away from their roads, tunnels
and doorways. A few drops of paraffin sprinkled round his
sitting-cloth will ensure that he is fairly secure against invasion.
Unless the forest is really ancient with dense shade, our bhikkhu
will experience extremes of heat and cold unknown to the cave-dweller.
In the hot season the sun blazes down from our of the cloudless sky
overhead and the small shade of his crot will be insufficient. Even
under a tree, at least in open forest, hot winds are liable to blow
and make life less pleasant.16
The conditions in densely-shaded rain forest rather resemble
cave-dwelling but there is an increase of biting life to reckon with
as well as the rainfall.
Forest-dwelling is only possible for the thudong bhikkhu all the
year round, if he has a small hut to supplement the protection of his
crot.17
During the three months of the Rains Retreat (Vassa — approximately
July to September), he must in any case dwell with a roof over his
head. It is quite common for thudong bhikkhus to have a small wood and
bamboo hut built by a supporter in some favorable place in the forest
and to dwell there either alone or with a nain or boy to assist him.
Forest life is very far from silent for, quite apart from the
occasional noises of the larger animals, smaller ones, especially
insects keep up an almost continuous racket. Cicadas and grasshoppery
creatures although small, manage to produce incredible volumes of
sound sometimes resembling that of railway trains! The only times when
they are silent is when presumably they are sleeping. This is during
the heat of midday and afternoon and during the middle watch of the
night. Unfortunately this quietness coincides with the times when
human beings also are most inclined to sleep.
However, forest conditions vary very much and our bhikkhu will not
find all the unfavorable conditions together, but since this world is
one level of samsara, there are bound to be one or more flies in the
ointment.
We may think of him on a moonlit night in the hot weather. A
cooling wind blows stirring the trees many of which are leafless,
while filling the air with the fragrance of some tree's blossoms. A
little bamboo hut stands raised upon wooden legs and upon its open
platform a boy sleeps. The bhikkhu paces up and down his walk which is
some thirty feet long and made under tall trees. The dark end of it is
lit by his candle-lamp hanging from a tree while the moon lights up
the rest. Light is necessary since thick, tubular millipedes have
their homes on either side of his walk and also like to wander upon
its smooth and freshly- swept surface.
Our bhikkhu finishes his walking and contemplatively returns to his
hut. Mounting the bamboo ladder to the platform, he stops before the
door to his tiny room. Over the door is fixed a polished wooden board
upon which the following words are cut and colored:
Handa dani bhikkhave, amantayami vo:
Vayadhamma sankhara, appamadena sampadetha'ti.
"Pay attention, O bhikkhus, I exhort you:
Going to destruction are all compounded things,
With heedfulness make an effort!"
These are the last recorded words of Lord Buddha: his final
exhortation to the thudong bhikkhus of those days.18
For our thudong bhikkhu now they not only have the significance of
being the last instructions, since his own practice — and perhaps
realization — accord well with them.
* * *
'Should one find a sagacious man who points out faults and reproves,
as if indicating a hidden treasure, let one associate with such a
wise person. It is always better and never worse for him who
cultivates the acquaintance of such a one.
Let him admonish, instruct and shield one from evil; a dear one
is he to the good, detestable to the wicked.'
(Dhp. 76-7)
The greatest teachers of the thudong tradition have very often
wandered all their lives, never settling down long in any one place
except for the annual Rains Retreat, or when extreme old age forced
them to do so. Some have never founded viharas (monastic residences),
leaving this to those of their disciples who had an aptitude for such
work.
Our bhikkhu, however, especially if he still requires guidance, may
live in a thudong vihara. This will be rather different from the
ordinary run of viharas where bhikkhus usually live two or three
together in large huts (kuti), or even if they live singly,
their residences will be crowded closely together being built about an
open hall (sala). A thudong vihara is distinguished by having
the huts set so that from one, another cannot be seen. This is not
difficult as wood, bamboo and thatch blend easily into the jungle. In
each hut, one bhikkhu lives and orders his time according to his
practice and ability.
Our bhikkhu will not often meet others resident there; once or
twice a day at most. The first time is when all gather in the hall to
prepare themselves for pindapata while the second may be in the
evening when some fruit drink is served. At this time also, the
venerable teacher of meditation may give some instruction, as he sees
fit. General instructions, for instance on matters of Vinaya (monastic
discipline), will be given to the community of resident bhikkhus every
Holy Day (uposatha — the Full and Half Moon Days) after the
recitation of the Patimokkha (the bhikkhus' Fundamental Precepts).
If our bhikkhu wishes for individual instruction in some matter, he
will approach his teacher after the evening instruction has been given
and, after saluting him with the triple prostration, he will question
him respectfully. If we were present in the hall, pillared with
roughly shaped tree trunks and lit by candles burning before the
gilded and painted shrine of Lord Buddha, we should notice the great
respect which he pays to his teacher. He sits in a respectful position
never pointing his feet towards the teacher and he always raises his
joined palms (anjali) when speaking to the teacher while, when the
latter speaks to him, he places them clasped together in his lap and
listens attentively. Our bhikkhu's teacher is for him one who has
experienced some degree of the Dhamma in his own heart and not merely
read about it out of books. Such teachers are therefore accorded great
veneration and anyone going to such a teacher, yet not making the
usual salutations, would probably be regarded as being difficult to
teach — because of the presence of strong conceit.19
In some thudong viharas, usually those inclined to less strict
observance, there is communal meditation and puja in the morning
before pindapata and again in the evening. Some teachers favor this
while others prefer their disciples to lead a more solitary life. Both
may be valuable to our bhikkhu according to his character and
progress.
Upon uposatha-nights it is also a feature in some thudong viharas,
to chant Lord Buddha's discourses all through the night, the bhikkhus
not sleeping.20
This may be interspersed with some instructions from the meditation
master and perhaps by the individual practice of walking. Where
practice already goes deep, this chanting, slow and rhythmic, may well
be an aid to attainment in meditation.
Regarding this, there was once a twelve year old boy who sat down
one evening with other pious lay-people who were practicing meditation
while the bhikkhus chanted. He knew nothing about how to practice, nor
had he ever sat in meditation posture before. But a very great
meditation-master lived there at that time and was leading the
bhikkhus in chanting. These factors all combining led that boy through
successive stages of mental concentration until he reached complete
meditation (appana samadhi). He was still sitting rapt in
stillness when the bhikkhus prepared to go collecting pindapata. The
meditation-master upon seeing him, decided not unnaturally, that the
boy would make a good disciple. After rousing him, and giving him the
precepts, the boy lived in that vihara learning the way from his
master.
One bhikkhu, well-practiced in meditation, was famous for the easy
control he had over his body. Sitting down in the temple at eight
o'clock upon uposatha-nights, he would not find it necessary to change
his posture until six o'clock the next morning. He never got up from
his seat, his gaze never wandered anywhere, he just concentrated upon
chanting from the heart being completely absorbed in this.
Our bhikkhu will be encouraged by his teacher to live with him
until such times as the latter feels that he has sufficient knowledge
of the Dhamma and strong enough meditation to go off on his own, to
practice in a cave or forest. There are disciples who like to stay
with their teachers until death parts them. There are others who want
to go off quickly and practice alone. It sometime happens that the
latter experience one of the ecstatic absorptions (jhana) and
conclude from this, since they lack sufficient Dhamma-knowledge and
the guidance of their teacher, that they have won a noble (ariya)
attainment. Sometimes such bhikkhus proclaim this out of ignorance and
gain quite a following: however, their fame soon dwindles for one
cannot pretend, intentionally or otherwise, to be an arahant
(an Accomplished Sage), or even to have reached one of the lower
stages of ariyan attainment.
A famous teacher once had a pupil who esteemed himself to be an
arahant but the former knew that he was not so but that his mind was
really overcome by the perversions (vipallasa). Now this
teacher had another pupil who, although he could neither read nor
write, had such experience of Dhamma that many consider that he was
really an arahant. He lived alone in a cave and seldom spoke and when
he did so, he uttered only words of Dhamma, never mere pleasantries.
The famous teacher was in the habit of sending any of his pupils who
became deluded to this great pupil, of whom he thought very highly. So
he sent his deluded disciple to him. The first and only words which
the great pupil spoke to the deluded one, were: "Sit here."
The former gave the latter no instruction, he only sat in meditation
with him day and night only rarely breaking off for the barest
necessities. After two weeks of this rigorous treatment, the deluded
one at least gained the insight that he was not after all an arahant
and then returned to live with his teacher. In this way he was cured
of this manifestation of the perverted mind (vipallasacitta).
Living in a vihara, at least for some time, will enable the thudong
bhikkhu to make his meditation practice grow strongly and that
"fear, trembling and hair-raising" which he might easily
experience in other more remote surroundings, are less likely to arise
there.
He has the guidance of the Good Friend (kalyana-mitta, as
the meditation teacher is called), and the companionship of the good,
that is of fellow-bhikkhus and nains who are likewise striving to
accomplish the goal of complete liberation of the mind. In this way he
has the best possible environment for progress in his meditation and
may stay with his teacher for many years. This is particularly true if
the pupil finds just the right teacher who can instruct him in the
right way to go. For just as pupils vary as to the proportions of
differing defilements in their characters, so teachers vary with
regard to different attainments and ability.
* * *
'Just as a storm cannot prevail against a rocky mountain, so Mara
can never overpower one who lives devoted to the meditations on
impurity (of the body), who is controlled in senses, moderate in
eating and endowed with faith and earnest effort.'
(Dhp. 8)
What can we say of other bhikkhu abodes? Generally the thudong
bhikkhu looks with disfavor upon living on a mountain — unless that
is, there happens to be a village near and at approximately the same
altitude. Our bhikkhu knows that his bowlful of rice is quite heavy
enough, especially after a long walk, without having to haul it up a
mountain path. Whenever bhikkhus ceased to rely on pindapata, as for
instance in China, they were able to live upon mountain heights in
peace and solitude.
Among abodes recommended in the "Path of Purification" is
the charnel-field or bone-yard. This is said to be an excellent abode
for greed (lobha) characters. It appears to have been a common
custom in ancient India to take corpses to a special part of the
forest and to leave them there to go to their dissolution. Thus a
thudong bhikkhu lighting upon such a place might be able to see all
the various stages of decay of the body — as they are described in
detail in the above work.21
Such was, of course, an unforgettable lesson upon the fate of his own
body.
Nowadays, in this country, bone-yards like this cannot be found,
for burning the body sooner or later has taken the place of the
natural process of its return to the component elements. Therefore it
is now almost impossible to live in this environment and the best that
can be done is to dwell near a burning ground. Usually there will not
be much of bones remaining, only piles of ashes, still there is for
many the fear of spirits (peta) to overcome. It is commonly
assumed that such a birth follows a human one and that the hungry
ghost or spirit lurks about near its former body, sometimes with evil
intent while others are supposed to be more kindly disposed. This may
sometimes happen when peta-birth actually follows the human one
because of peta-like kamma, but popular belief assumes that this is
invariable.
However this may be, a certain amount of caution is required before
dwelling in such a place. If our bhikkhu is of imaginative
disposition, he must have his imagination well under control before
dwelling in a burning-ground. An uncontrolled imagination coupled with
loneliness, the natural noises of the night and the dimly lighted
surroundings can result in an unbalanced mind.
A good many years ago now, there was a nain recently ordained and
fifteen years of age. His meditation master sent him to dwell
overnight in the local burning-ground-cum-graveyard which was well out
of the village, in the jungle. Not knowing that it is proper to
inspect such a place in full daylight first, noting how all the rocks,
trees, tombs etc. are placed — he arrived there only at dusk. After
laying a cloth to sit upon and hanging up his crot, he began to look
around. Finding a suitable place to walk up and down, he decided to
begin his meditations in this way. As he was turning round, at one
end, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a great black phantom
looming up, its jagged arms outstretched, the claw-like fingers ready
to seize him. In fear and trembling he continued his walking and so
great was his terror of the unknown 'thing' that he did not sit or lie
down all that night but walked and stood meditating (with a glance
every so often to see that 'it' had not moved). When dawn came, the
'thing' became less black and menacing, slowly resolving itself into a
stricken tree-trunk!
As custom has changed so much that the boneyard is no longer to be
found, there was in this country many years ago a senior bhikkhu who
decided to remedy this lack. This teacher dwelt in a little vihara in
a patch of woodland outside a small town and near the old capital of
Ayuthia. Very few bhikkhus stayed in this vihara for after they had
seen what they came to see, he sent them away to practice on their
own. And what did they see?
This teacher had constructed a flower garden and all round it he
had built a high wall pierced by only one door and that was padlocked.
The flowers that grew in this garden were very special ones, special
bhikkhu flowers. The flowers of laymen are of gorgeous colors,
entrancing shapes and subtle perfumes but these flowers for bhikkhus
although they had their colors, shapes and perfumes, were rather
different. Inside the garden there were constructed a number of open
troughs covered by glass frames from one end of which rose a long
pipe. When a man died in the town, the teacher would go and personally
carry away the body, slinging it over his shoulder. Taking it to his
garden he would lay it in a trough and cover it with a frame.
When a bhikkhu desiring a subject of meditation came to him, he
would be told by the teacher that he only instructed in the Cemetery
Contemplations. At first the teacher would go with him into the garden
during daylight and let him select a suitable 'flower' for his
meditations. Then he let the bhikkhu go in there alone, to fix the
subject in his mind. Finally, he was permitted to go in at night and
spend the hours of darkness meditating upon his 'flower.' Then having
settled the meditation subject firmly in his mind, the teacher would
tell the bhikkhu to go and to meditate alone.
Before he went, he would receive instructions upon a further aspect
of the meditation which emphasized that it was not a body 'out there'
which was to be seen, even in the mind. It was his own body which had
to be seen with insight as bloated, festering, or just dry bones,
according to the stage of the decay selected. Thus were bhikkhus of
that time enabled to free themselves from the deluded identification
of this body as being 'myself' or as 'mine' — by the special
exertions of this teacher.
Every teacher, as we have mentioned before has his own
characteristic ways, both of instruction and of conduct. If our
bhikkhu went to a certain teacher, a disciple of a yet more famous
master, he would have to put forth energy if he wished to live with
him.
This teacher lived in a little ramshackle hut — he would not let
lay-people build him anything else, in a small jungle vihara — and
was about eighty-five years old. It was his practice to begin his
working day at five o'clock when he would vigorously start to sweep
the vihara grounds. Then, when it was light, he went out to collect
food. Returning, he ate a single meal of small quantity and for the
rest of the day drank only water. Besides the two normal pujas, he
made a third one in the middle of the night. To do this, he slept from
ten o'clock until midnight — and never used a mosquito-net — and
then got up for puja, after which he slept again for another two
hours. Arising vigorous, he would sit in meditation until the
sweeping-time. His appearance was hale and it appeared that he might
very well carry on with his way of life for another twenty years at
least!
Stories about teachers are endless and this short account could
never contain a tithe of them. So we must let these few suffice as
examples and close this section on thudong abodes.
Wandering
'Those who exert themselves and are mindful, delight not in any
abode. They are like swans that abandon their like, leaving home
after home behind.'
(Dhp. 91)
Today, when it is possible to go quickly everywhere by some
conveyance or other, why wander? What is the purpose of the thudong
bhikkhu who, alone or with one or two companions, prefers to go his
way on foot? There are quite a lot of reasons why wandering in this
manner is preferred. For example, the wanderer goes quietly and at
whatever speed he wishes. He is not brought into contact with others
who might disturb his contemplative way and he may stay at a place
just as long as it pleases him — and leave it when he wishes. Also,
he is uninvolved with other people, no arrangements has he to make for
them while he gives trouble to none. In fact, his is the way of
freedom. Then again, he reflects that this way of travel was used by
his great Master in the forty-five years of his teaching in India and
has been that of countless other bhikkhus seeking Enlightenment. The
modern ways of traveling are good for getting to places quickly but
not so good for gaining Enlightenment. There is distraction enough in
the mind without churning it up still further — some such thoughts
he thinks.
Reasons for wandering are also rather various and we are only
concerned with those motivated by the search for Enlightenment. The
real purposes are threefold: to be able to dwell in solitary places
for meditation; to visit meditation-masters who often stay far into
the country or forest; or to go on pilgrimage to some famous shrine.
While the first and second have already been touched upon, the
third needs a few more words. By pilgrimage to a shrine is meant the
desire that arises in some bhikkhu who has taken to thudong life, to
visit and make his puja at a great stupa (reliquary monument) where
are enshrined some remains of Lord Buddha or the arahants. Or perhaps
to go to some famous temple where an exceptionally beautiful image of
the Enlightened One is enshrined. All this he does with the idea that
merit is gained from such actions and indeed, if our thudong bhikkhu,
or anyone else, goes on such pilgrimages single-mindedly and in deep
devotion, the results for his own development in the Dhamma are bound
to be fruitful.
If he wanders every day, especially if the weather is hot, the way
rough or both, his power of meditation must be very strong indeed, or
it will suffer from the impact of these external conditions. Tiredness
of the body after walking only four or five hours can be a great
obstacle in the way of peaceful practice. Therefore, either he will
walk one day and then finding a suitable place, stop there for three
or four days, or, if he wishes to reach a definite place by a certain
time, then he puts by his practice of mental calm (samatha) and
takes up the full time application of mindfulness (satipatthana)
in its various aspects.22
Besides the necessity of strong samadhi, it is quite sure that he
must have a strong body able to endure blazing sun, heat, sweat, rough
ways, insects and cuts and bruises. These latter, together with
blisters, are not infrequent in thudong life and can make his way very
difficult. If he goes without sandals, rocks will cut and thorns
pierce his feet, or going with them, the feet must be very hard or
they will surely be chapped.
Strength of body is required so that he can carry comfortably his
few essentials. What does a wandering thudong bhikkhu carry? First of
all, there are his eight essentials which are a bhikkhu's only
possessions. They are: three robes (one waist-cloth, one upper robe
and one double robe,23
a bowl (usually of thin malleable iron with a brass cover), a
waist-band to secure the waist-cloth, a needle and thread, razor (of
cut-throat pattern), and lastly, a water-strainer. These items he must
take with him or if he loses any of them at any time, they should be
made good as soon as possible. In the thudong life, all these things
have their relevance — including the water- strainer which is a very
important piece of equipment.
Besides these, there will be certain other things which he is sure
to have: a water-flask or kettle, his crot, a sitting cloth and one
for bathing and probably a bhikkhu-bag containing a few additional
articles. Among these may be a candle-lamp, one or two medicines,
toothpick-cum-brushes, perhaps a small folding clock and a penknife.
He may also carry a copy of the Patimokkha (his Fundamental Precepts)
in Pali with a translation into his own language and some small book
on the teaching such as the Dhammapada. All these together make up a
good weight and generally he will only want to carry them before the
sun gets too high and the late afternoon or evening when it is
setting.
How then should we picture our bhikkhu as he makes his way by
footpaths and stony tracks, through deep forest or open rice-fields?
He wears two of his robes, the double-thick one being usually wrapped
and stowed inside his bowl, unless it is very cold. His bowl is
secured in its sling and tied tight to its stand, while the strap of
the sling passes over one shoulder. His sitting cloth and a few other
things may also be put inside while the bathing-cloth forms an
additional outer protection for the bowl. His bag, the crot in
its sling and the water-flask, hang from the other shoulder. A thudong
bhikkhu does not wear his robes long but hitches them rather high and
so passes more easily through streams and over mountains. If he is in
open country and the sun is shining, he may place any handy piece of
cloth on his head, although this is always removed in accordance with
the Vinaya's injunctions when passing by houses or through villages.
The sandals on his feet are stout ones — they have to be to take all
the knocks that his feet would otherwise suffer. In this way he goes,
mindful of and joyful in the Dhamma.
He may go alone or with a nain or small boy following, or he may be
with one or two other bhikkhus. Probably they will not be walking very
close together but prefer to be rather well-spaced so that mindfulness
does not suffer, nor conversation tend to break up their silence.
Every so often, at least in forests, one of the bhikkhus will spot
some refreshing fruit tree and then they may turn in that direction
and after gathering the wild fruits — providing that it is not yet
twelve o'clock — sit eating them while taking a well-earned rest.
Certain bitter fruits, such as the emblic myrobalan, may be taken
after midday as they have medicinal properties and our bhikkhu will be
glad of these to help quench his thirst in the heat of the afternoon.
A few thudong bhikkhus en marche in some ways resemble a
small detachment of soldiers. They both have uniforms, they both carry
all their needs along with them and in both cases the senior leads and
the juniors follow, but here the resemblance ends. The former wear the
robe of peace, of harmlessness towards all living beings and all their
possessions speak of a pacific way of life. No guns do they carry, but
crots, no grenades, but almsbowls. The wandering bhikkhu has
conquered eastern Asia by these means, without dissension, without
resort to violence, without wars but with loving-kindness and
compassion. And those mighty empires which ambitious and victorious
men have raised one after the other, by the use of force, shattering
opponents by wars innumerable — all this might and glory has passed
away, has crumbled to defaced stones and time-smoothed coins found in
distant jungles. But the Dispensation of the Conqueror who practiced
and preached a morality based upon non-violence, this empire of peace
has endured. What is the message here for the empire-makers, political
or economic, of the present day? What has this Dhamma to say to those
who think of their lives as a fight against others? Upon this matter,
the Dhammapada has the following verse:
Though he may conquer a thousand thousand men in battle, yet, he is
indeed the noblest victor who would conquer himself.
(Dhp. 103)
Our wandering bhikkhu may decide at the end of his day whether he
will stay the night in the forest, or cave or other suitable place, or
whether, the country proving unfavorable, he will go to the nearest
village. If he elects in favor of the latter, it may well be that in
approaching the village in the evening light, some villagers will see
him. Then some pious laymen will approach him and saluting him
respectfully, relieve his shoulders of bowl and crot and invite him to
stay for the night in the village vihara, or where there is no
established residence for bhikkhus, in the 'hall' (sala). Word
will soon get round the village that a venerable thudong bhikkhu has
arrived and people will then come to the hall bringing with them
things for his comfort — a pillow, mat and of course, tea. In
Thailand at any rate, this means 'water-tea' (literally translated),
or as westerners would say, Chinese tea. He may also be offered honey
or sugar to refresh himself and while he does this, people will sit
upon a lower level of the hall and respectfully enquire where he has
come from, whereto he will be going, how long has he been a bhikkhu
(how many Rains-Retreats?) — and so forth. If our bhikkhu wishes, or
has the gift of teaching, the general conversation may well be turned
towards Dhamma and the lay-people will sit listening intently and
perhaps putting a question now and then upon some point which they do
not understand.
Whenever there is time during the informal gathering, or when
people have departed, our bhikkhu will have to see about patching up
his skin bag which is so liable to become punctured even though he
takes great care. Villagers will give him more medicines, often of
their own manufacture, if those he carries do not suffice. His various
wounds, usually very small matters, may nevertheless give him plenty
of room for reflection upon the nature of the body. A small pimple
soon grows into a large sore and an insignificant cut quickly pulsates
with oozing pus; and he remembers that each day he chants: "There
are in this body — kesa — hair of the head, loma —
hair of the body... and so forth, to... taco — skin, mamsam
— flesh... pubbo — pus, lohitam — blood..." .
His cuts and blisters are reminders for him that the bag of skin holds
much which although usually hidden from ordinary sight, is liable to
erupt and compel attention. The thudong bhikkhu gives attention here
willingly whereas the worldly attitude is to turn away from and try
not to consider such nasty things. Our bhikkhu, however, knows that
the seeing of all these parts of the body, traditionally thirty-two in
number, as they really are, that is, as a danger, as repulsive and as
liable to decay, leads him towards freedom from the 'own- body-view' (sakkaya-ditthi)
and towards that state where the body is viewed quite impersonally and
as a collection of processes, acting and reacting. At best, it will be
seen, after insight into its nature has been experienced, as an
instrument of the Dhamma.
Towards such insight and mature understanding, our bhikkhu strives,
and he will, if he has still energy enough, sit in meditation after
the last villager has departed and, attaining calm, shift his
attention to these thirty-two messy parts, or some one or two of them,
endeavoring to develop insight. Perhaps he may vow before taking his
rest: "Oh, may this body be devoted to the Dhamma, may it become
a Dhamma-instrument." And his night will be spent peacefully, no
dreams will disturb him and he will awake refreshed, the body ready
for active service in the Dhamma when he takes up his
meditation-subject again in the cool of the morning.
When it is fully light, many villagers will come to the hall to
make merit which means that our bhikkhu will not have to go out for
pindapata. Every house will send a bowl of rice and some other food to
accompany it and perhaps he may get sweets and fruits as well. One
person from each house will place one or two spoons of rice into his
bowl as it stands upon the raised platform-floor. When they have
finished, the other food, together with his bowl will be reverently
given into his hands — for a bhikkhu should not take any food which
has not actually been offered in this way. The senior layman may well
ask him for the Three Refuges and the Five Precepts, and the giving of
these being completed, our bhikkhu will intone a chant (Yatha
varivaha pura paripurenti...) whereby the merits made by the laity
are formally dedicated to the happiness and comfort of the hungry
ghosts (peta). Before he begins his meal, he remembers that this food
is one of the four requisites (paccaya) and the proper reason
why he will eat it.
His meal over and his bowl washed, he sets out again upon his way.
Generally, however, the serious wanderer will prefer wherever
conditions permit, to spend his nights in the forest where his own
quiet of mind will be better company for him than many people. Of
course, he will not get good tea, nor honey — nor the other comforts
of the village hall but if he has practiced diligently, he will have
comforts enough and far superior to those who have not sat in
meditation. He will be able to sit as long as he can in the cool of
the night, without interruption if he has chosen a site far enough
removed from the village.
So our bhikkhu stays out of sight and hearing until he appears the
next morning in the village upon his round for pindapata. Of course,
there will be no special food for him as there would be if he had
stayed in the hall. He will just get the ordinary fare. As he has
cultivated contentment, he will not care whether it is finest culinary
art or plainest village rice — it is all the same to him.24
He will find a considerable difference in the villages along his
way; some will be prosperous, while others are poor, some tidy and
others uncared for, and so on. And he will not always be welcome and
though this will be very unusual; it does happen, especially where
villagers are for some reason without bhikkhus to guide their lives.
When he chances upon such a village, if he is an ordinary bhikkhu, he
will have a good opportunity to test the strength of his patience.
While if he is a teacher, he may stop there for some time and, using
all his skill, teach the people what is wrong with the way that they
are going and what is the right way to fare through life.
Turning now to another matter, we should mention here the custom
among thudong bhikkhus of making certain vows (addhitthana). It
may be that the vow is made to observe a definite practice among the
thirteen ascetic modes (dhutanga), such as refraining from
lying down for a certain number of days, weeks or months. A wandering
bhikkhu may vow never to stay in a hall such as we have described, or
to go on some pilgrimage by foot all the way, not accepting proffered
transport — and so forth.
Regarding this last vow, there is a story. A few years ago, a Thai
bhikkhu of about fifty years of age, made a vow to walk from Bangkok
to the holiest place for Buddhists, the 'Diamond Throne' (The Buddha's
Seat of Enlightenment) at Buddha Gaya in India. So he set off with
bowl and robes and a few other things such as we have described. He
took no money upon his pilgrimage, neither did he worry about such
modern encumbrances as passports and visas. Falling in with a party of
Mon bhikkhus going to make their puja at the Shwe Dagon Pagoda in
Rangoon, he went with them and from there made his slow progress up
the length of Burma. Two rains retreats he spent upon the way and
still he had not reached India. Finally, he crossed the Indo-Burmese
border in the wild hills of Nagaland and there some Nagas, who had
probably never seen a bhikkhu before and took him for a spy, severely
beat him, taking away even his robes and bowl. Fortunately, he was
able to recover these although his few other things were gone, and so
limping, he made his way down the Assamese plain. Knowing not a word
of any Indian language and having to rely on pindapata which is not so
easily got in India, his first concern was to get someone to write on
a piece of paper in Hindi and Bengali: "I am a Buddhist bhikkhu.
I collect cooked food which is to be placed in this bowl. May you be
well and happy." This piece of paper he showed everywhere he went
so that people would understand what he required. Luckily he was a
vegetarian and not troubled regarding food. After many months of
walking, he came to Buddha Gaya. His vow was fulfilled after two and a
half years: he had wandered to good purpose.
There is wandering in this way with some profitable end in view and
there is also an aimless wandering. The thudong bhikkhu wanders (carati)
in order to put an end to wandering (samsarati). He wanders
purposefully in the Dhamma-faring so as to come to an end of the
infinitely long wandering in birth-and-death (samsara). He has
taken up this way of life, that of a homeless one, because he sees the
dangers which beset all who drift in the currents of samsara.
Birth and death, aging and disease afflict all beings who are like so
many pieces of driftwood dashed about by the ocean waves, first this
way and then that — but never getting anywhere and forever at the
mercy of wind and water. As driftwood, so beings do not know why they
are here and instead of trying to probe this matter, they invent all
sorts of fanciful explanations.
Our bhikkhu sees, if only to some extent and for part of the time,
that beings are overcome by the poisons of the three roots of unskill
(greed, hatred and delusion) and that these blind them and make them
the prey of all the worldly conditions which they experience. And so
they go, pulled this way and that by the results of their own actions (kammaphala)
leaping from birth to birth. He knows that beings do not always
spiritually evolve, but that devolution is always possible — into
states where darkness is complete, the black night of ignorance (avijja)
where the lamp of the Dhamma is no longer discernible.
Why wander blindly in this round of woes?, thinks our bhikkhu. Why
wander on and on to such states as will be difficult to escape from
(as for instance, animal-birth)? Perhaps he calls to mind a picture
painted by a master of old25
which shows a long, long track a winding from the distance into the
foreground and from thence out of our ken. This track so tortuous,
passes through an unbeautiful landscape of shattered, spiky rocks,
smitten, storm-struck trees, fire-blackened grass and earth and here
and there lying about, are bones — a skull bone here, a leg bone
there. Along this dreadful track there comes a man, his clothes all in
tatters, a wide-brimmed pilgrim's hat upon his head and a staff held
skew-wise in one hand. His face bears all the marks of foolishness,
from his eyes which are wandering and not fixed upon his way before
him, to his mouth set in the most imbecile smile imaginable. He has
wandered all down that long way, grinning foolishly at the bones which
would warn him if only he would heed them. He has wandered long,
infinitely long and he will wander longer — uncomprehending. He sees
no other way to go but the dreary track in front of him.
Our bhikkhu (and all those who earnestly take to this Dhamma) is
one who is determined no longer to wander aimlessly but to be one who
marches along the high road to freedom, that glorious bliss-bestowing
Way, the Noble Eightfold Path.
Companionship and the Solitary Life
If one find friend with whom to fare
Rapt in the well-abiding, apt,
Surmounting dangers one and all,
With joy fare with him mindfully.
Finding none apt with whom to fare,
None in the well-abiding rapt,
As rajah quits the conquered realm,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
A good deal has already been written upon companionship while
leading the holy life and this need not be repeated. The point that is
really important is whether one makes progress best in the Dhamma-company
of others, or whether one's mentality and progress are sufficiently
strong and mature to "fare lonely as rhinoceros."
One who has the company of others has many chances to learn from
them. Not only from his teacher but from other bhikkhus, and not only
from them, from nains, in fact, from everyone with whom he has
contact. Every person is one's teacher, if only there is the facility
and humility to learn from them and in all situations. From the wise,
our thudong bhikkhu upon his Dhamma-pilgrimage, learns wisdom. But
also from those lacking in good qualities, he learns how not to
behave, he learns through their mistakes and reflects upon himself;
'Now, is this unskillful way of speech or bodily action to be found in
me, or not?'
He also learns more humility from this mindfulness of others'
action, for while perceiving some fault of others, he does not make
this an opportunity for the arising of pride. When noting greed in
someone else, besides the above reflection upon his own behavior,
perhaps he can add the thought: 'But he has (for instance) a very
strong devotion.' In other words, he learns through his contact with
fellow Dhamma-farers, to see their good qualities also and to strive
to bring those excellencies to perfection in his own personality.
Through the effort that he makes, we should note certain qualities
which, being present to the extent that his training has been
successful, mark him out as one who has indeed taken the following to
heart:
Good is restraint in eye, good is restraint in ear, good is
restraint in nose, good is restraint in tongue.
Good is restraint in action, good is restraint in speech, good is
restraint in thought, restraint everywhere is good. The bhikkhu
restrained in every way is freed from all suffering.
(Dhp. 360-361)
We should notice that all his actions were marked by this
moderation. If we saw him in company, he would be one who laughed but
little for he will have to some extent, perceived the truth in the
following:
When the world is ever ablaze, why this laughter, why this
jubilation?
(Dhp. 146)
But we should not from this gain the impression of a gloomy
saintliness or that his face would be forbiddingly harsh, for our
bhikkhu has made loving-kindness and compassion (metta-karuna)
grow and will upon occasion smile gently. Likewise, his speech is
marked by a softness of expression and lack of rough words. He would
be inclined to speak to others upon the Dhamma and be little attracted
to other subjects except where they touched upon what for him, is
all-important: the Way to Enlightenment.
Besides contact with teachers and other bhikkhus he may have a nain
as his companion or perhaps a boy who wishes to train for ordination
later. If a suitable boy can be found and is given the going-forth to
become nain then he will be of great help to the thudong bhikkhu.
'Suitable,' here means that he feels a genuine urge to live not only
the holy life but also to live it in the sort of places where thudong
bhikkhus live. he must also be devoted to the bhikkhu with whom he
lives, looking upon him as his teacher. Suitability includes as well
the ability of the nain or boy to practice meditation, for living in
the wilds with few or no books and out of range of the
sense-distractions of the towns, such boys must be able to employ
themselves through at least part of the day without disturbing the
bhikkhus. There are, in Buddhist countries particularly, numbers of
boys who, one supposes, have practiced meditation in past lives and
who take to it in this one as ducklings to water.
The nain or boy helps in so many ways that it would not be possible
to list them all. He is ever-solicitous for the well-being of bhikkhus
and never loses an opportunity for doing them some service. In
particular this applies to the teacher of the nain and to any other
bhikkhus whom he particularly respects — for their wisdom, patience,
gentleness, learning, energetic striving or whichever other fine
qualities are manifest in them. In the training of the nain,
helpfulness towards others and humility to learn from them are prime
qualities.
Whenever our thudong bhikkhu finds the occasion proper to instruct
or correct, he will find if he has a really good nain that he will
listen with ears open wide to the former, while accepting the
correction humbly and with a good heart. It does happen even with the
best of nains that he will make some mistake, particularly regarding
carelessness. Then the bhikkhu will quietly admonish the nain and
perhaps prescribe some punishment-work (danda-kamma) for him to
do — and the nain gently smiling accepts his work, which is often
sweeping and sets about it with a right good will.
Such a novice, keen for the training, is positively avid for Dhamma
and listens particularly to stories, with great attention. As there is
no lack in Buddhist literature of stories to illustrate points of
training, nains soon come to have a fund of such material both of the
Buddha-time and from later Buddhist history. Thus begins the Dhamma-education
of what will probably be a good thudong bhikkhu.
What then of one who chooses to live alone? Two points stand out:
Positively his character must be deep and resourceful enough to
surmount all the obstacles he may encounter, while on the negative
side, his defilements (kilesa) must be sufficiently held in
check by his culture of mindfulness (sati) and meditation (samadhi).
It is no good living in the wilds boorishly unrestrained as in the
case of venerable Gulissani.26
On the contrary, our bhikkhu knows that the greatest restraint is
needed as there is no longer any companion to upbraid or advise him
whenever this is necessary. He has then to be his own instructor and
this is plainly impossible unless such excellent qualities as
mindfulness, shame (hiri) and fear of blame (ottappa)
are well-developed.
Our bhikkhu who wishes to taste solitude must also be sure that he
does so for the right reasons. There are those people who like to live
by themselves simply because they cannot bear their fellow-men. Their
solitary life is thus based upon the root of hatred (dosa). Far
different must be the thudong bhikkhu's reason for desiring
loneliness. He wishes to course deep in the Dhamma and have no drags,
no ties whatever, which might prevent his increasing perception of its
truth. His whole life revolves around the Dhamma and he has, or wishes
to develop the central thought of Dhamma, that is, of the Three
Signata of Existence (tilakkhana — impermanence, suffering
and non-self).27
To do this his emotional nature must be mature and this, in
Buddhist practice, means the development of the Divine Abidings (brahma-vihara),
each one of which replaces a certain aspect of emotional instability.
Thus hatred is replaced by loving-kindness; indifference to others'
sufferings is remedied by compassion; envy by sympathetic joy with
other's happiness; while involvement with and attachment to others is,
in maturity, replaced by equanimity. Even if our bhikkhu cannot yet
reach to the heights of equanimity, at least his gentleness and
compassion must have grown to some degree. He has almost placed
himself outside the world of men, and he is sure therefore to have
greater contact with animals than do most men and he may, especially
if in him purification is well advanced, have visions of the gods (devata).
Many are the stories of old told about both sorts of contact. From the
context of stories in which the gods appear to bhikkhus it is apparent
that they do so because the latter's spiritual development has
approached or surpassed that of those gods. It is these Divine
Abidings which make possible this meeting of worlds.
Stories of extraordinary affection between thudong bhikkhus and
animals are also frequent. In this country at the end of the Ayuthia
period (ended CE. 1767), there were numbers of forest-dwelling
bhikkhus who, like the sages of old, would dwell hermit-like
surrounded by animals and birds. Deer in particular, came to love the
companionship of these hermits who could only attract animals thus
because of the loving-kindness which they had made grow in their
hearts and the consequent absence of hatred and fear.
Two other qualities are necessary for the solitary dweller:
patience and energy. He will hardly be a thudong bhikkhu at all if he
has not the former. Living-conditions for him are many and not all of
them are perfect all the time. Although he has backed out of the rough
waters of attachments to persons, places and things, he still lives in
this world imperfect and must patiently cope with whatever trials he
encounters. With patience he trains his mind so difficult to bring
under control and with patience he notes the gradual relaxation of the
defilements (kilesa). He comes to know that his Dispensation (sasana)
is as Lord Buddha instructed:
"Just as the great ocean deepens not suddenly but shelves out
gradually, so this Teaching is gradual and understanding of it
gradually deepens."
He has patience in seeing that his efforts are gradually rewarded.
'Efforts' means energy, rather necessary for many aspects of strenuous
thudong life, as our bhikkhu knows. If he did not make any effort in
his chosen way of life, then a speedy decline would follow, in which
the defilements, for the weakening and ultimate breaking of which he
was leading this life, would re-assert themselves and once more close
their stranglehold upon him.
The thudong bhikkhu makes efforts too, to maintain his observance
of the Vinaya and in particular of the Fundamental Precepts (Patimokkha)
pure and unbroken. Even more diligent must be the observance of the
solitary bhikkhu who can ill afford to let slide any of the precepts.
If he does so, he will find that his meditation is disturbed by
thoughts of the broken precepts and to mend matters he must go and
obtain purification of his fault through confession of it to another
bhikkhu.
He has to stir up energy to maintain and develop further his
meditative practice. Without effort, instead of going from strength to
strength in meditative calm and insight (samatha-vipassana), he
would be liable to slip backwards practicing less and less every day.
With patience to hold in check agitation and energy to ensure that
slothfulness does not lay on its benumbing touch, our solitary thudong
bhikkhu has a good chance of making balanced progress along the way.
Pali Scriptures mention another kind of solitariness and after his
practice of bodily seclusion (kaya-viveka) together with the
mental withdrawal experienced in deep meditation (citta-viveka),
he may come to possess this lasting solitude. The man with craving (tanha)
present is said to be accompanied by a second one (dutiya),
whereas one in whom craving is absent, having been totally eradicated
through insight (vipassana), is an arahant who abides in the
ultimate solitude from all substrates producing continued existence (upadhi-viveka).
Our thudong bhikkhu strives to use his solitude in forest or cave,
in order to be rid of his companion in all samsaric wandering —
craving, and being without this second one to know the true solitude
of Dhamma-truth. When he has achieved this, then indeed he may abide
anywhere, and whether forest or city it will make no difference to
him.
This was the pattern in Lord Buddha's life, first the long
meditative seclusion followed by his carrying of the torch of
Enlightenment for all to see. Sometimes, in those long years of
teaching the Enlightened One would betake himself to the forests for a
time. Then he would return to the viharas quite near to the important
towns of those days or wander among the villages meeting kings and
'outcastes,' priests and princes and discoursing to all without
exception, for the potential of Enlightenment lay within all men,
having no regard whether he was estranged from society and labelled an
'outcaste' or esteemed by people as a priest (brahman) of
'pure' lineage.
Thus, in following the thudong life our bhikkhu is making his
efforts, however small, to follow in the Way his Master trod. To him,
the life of the Enlightened One is not something remote, for it is
illuminated to some extent by his own experience and is always a great
source of precious inspiration and guidance. It shows him what can be
achieved and gives him the courage to face all dangers and go forth to
make the attempt for this highest achievement. As Lord Buddha assures
all people:
"Those who are always meditative and ever steadfastly
persevering, the wise ones, realize Nibbana, the bond-free, the
highest."
(Dhp. 23)
Postscript
As much as can easily be written of the thudong bhikkhu's life is
contained in these sketches. Just as the flavor of soup is not to be
told even in one thousand pages, so the real flavor of this Ancient
Way cannot be conveyed by words. Soup is to be tasted: the thudong
life is to be lived. If it sounds hard, one must remember that its
rewards are great, and in the field of Dhamma-endeavor, nothing is
gained without effort. The world wants everything quick-and-easy but
the fruits of the holy life are thus only for those who have already
put forth their energy, already striven hard for the goal. Truly Lord
Buddha promises in the Discourse on Mindfulness (Satipatthana Sutta)
that the noble attainment of the arahant may be experienced within
seven days. There is also the phrase found: "Instructed in the
morning, he attains in the evening." Such promise and statements
depend upon individual capacities and whether the practice of
mindfulness is strong and complete enough and moreover, they only
apply providing that there is the ability to renounce this world
completely. Nibbana, the supreme goal, is not to be got at while
anything, even the most subtle dhamma, is still clung to. Behold, says
the Exalted One:
"Come behold this world,
Like unto a royal chariot,
Wherein fools flounder,
But where the wise find no attraction."
(Dhp. 171)
The thudong bhikkhu makes efforts to be among the wise who have
cast aside all embroilments with things, people and the three periods
of time. He has few things among which he can flounder and he tries
vigorously to cut off all that might tie him to people. He strives
also to win for his own, his Master's realization regarding the three
times:
"The past is like a dream,
The present as clouds appears,
Mirage-like is the future."
All bonds, however arising, he tries to shatter. He is inspired by
the Enlightened One's exhortations that a mortal disease (ignorance, avijja)
requires a drastic remedy. he has gone forth from home and family,
from all the dear decorations of life, to don the ancient yellow robe
of patches, to have little and want less, to pursue the sublime Way
shown by the Buddha with every energy he possesses. While
unenlightened he wants only one 'thing' — Enlightenment.
When he wishes to take the step of Going-forth (pabbajja, to
become a nain), he thrice utters these words: "Give leave,
Venerable Sir, and having given me these robes, out of compassion let
me go forth for the extinction of suffering and the realization of
Nibbana."
If he is serious in his quest he tries even amid life's diffusion,
not to forget these words, not to forget the reason why he is wearing
the three robes. They are a great reminder that Enlightenment is his
aim and that the well-being of others is best upheld by penetration of
Enlightenment by oneself. This thudong way although it seems to be
devoted only to the good of the bhikkhu undertaking it, actually
stands at the beginning of his progress along the way.
Lord Buddha emphasized: "Who, stuck in the mud, can pull out
another stuck in the mud?" Later, when some mastery is gained in
the Dhamma, then is the time to aid others and only then can one
actually help them effectively.
It is this straight-forward attitude to the Dhamma among members of
the Sangha and devoted lay-people which has been responsible for the
spread of the Dhamma in Eastern Asia, from Sri Lanka to Siberia, from
Afghanistan to Japan. And to spread the Dhamma outwardly, it must
first be spread inwardly, in one's own heart. The Sangha unencumbered
by worldly lumber, has just this work. It is the Sangha in fact which
has everywhere in the past been the backbone of the Buddhist religion.
It is the mainstay of knowledge of the Dhamma and it is the spearhead
of applying that Dhamma to the living of the holy life. Efforts made
to spread Buddhism in the present must therefore take account of these
two factors: the necessity of having those who have experienced Dhamma
for themselves as guides, as meditation masters: also the importance
of the Third Jewel, the Sangha, which must be made to grow strongly
since it provides the opportunity for devoted effort to win the Dhamma
and the subsequent teaching of others which may follow.
Such effort is made particularly by the thudong bhikkhu as we have
tried to show. This is not to say that others having practices
different from those outlined here, do not make efforts toward
Enlightenment. Of course they do, but here we have only been concerned
with this particular aspect of bhikkhu life. Still, from the high
esteem in which the genuine thudong bhikkhu has always been held in
Buddhist lands and the fact that his life most nearly approaches that
of the original Sangha it would not seem a mistake to regard the
thudong way as being first among other modes of bhikkhu life.
Among the bhikkhus, it is those who have realized for themselves
the truth of the Dhamma and who are therefore qualified to teach
others, it is they who are the elect. Of course, they do no write
books and are often difficult to find but certainly they are the
heartwood. Where they are to be found, in whatever Buddhist land or
anywhere else, there the Buddhadhamma truly lives, for the light of
that Dhamma burns brightly in their hearts. Wherever they are, there
Dhamma not only lives, but can also grow. For the Dhamma does not grow
by the numbers of its adherents according to governments' statistics,
nor by the number of its temples, not yet even by the quantities of
yellow robes worn: no, it grows heartwise from teacher to pupil,
through the former's instructions and the latter's application.
The thudong life is one way to this growth. The Dhamma is not
secret for it is open to all who have ears to hear, and the Sangha
exists for all those who would devote their lives to Dhamma. The Way
is there, the Way is always there — but who will tread it?
* * *
"Grounded on practice (patipatti), sire, is the Dispensation of
the Teacher, in practice is its essence. It will last so long as
practice does not disappear."
— Venerable Nagasena's reply to King
Menander (Milinda) in "Milinda's Questions (Milinda-panha)"
p. 1986, translated by I.B. Horner.
Appendix: The Ariyavamsa Sutta
Introduction
There follows a translation which is based on the Pali text (PTS),
Woodwards' translation in Gradual Sayings II and the Thai
translation of the Anguttara Nikaya. In this retranslation, great help
has been given by Ven. Nagasena Bhikkhu of Wat Benchamabopitr in
Bangkok.
This sutta which we call the Discourse on the Noble Lineages has a
very celebrated history. It will be immediately obvious that its
content is an inspiration for the thudong bhikkhu, and for those who
are neither thudong nor bhikkhu, it has as its message: that of
contentment with a sufficiency of this world's goods while warning any
who cultivate this attitude to guard against pride arising, ("I
am pure, they are not...").
The Commentary states that under the first three of the Noble
Lineages, all of the Vinaya Collection (of rules and regulations for
the Sangha) may be expounded. Under the fourth heading, which concerns
mental development by way of meditation and the subsequently arising
desire to relinquish all states connected with the unskillful (akusala)
factors, under this Lineage may be explained all the Discourses (sutta)
and Buddhist psychology (Abhidhamma). That such expositions
actually took place is attested by many references in the history of
Ceylon. It seems that such was the fame of this Discourse, that
thousands would flock from near and far to hear skilled bhikkhus
expound it. As the reader will see, it is a short sutta but evidently
during its preaching practically all topics in the vast range of the
Pali Canon could be brought under the headings which it gives. Such
preaching sometimes continued for many days and was a popular subject
for exposition during the rains retreat. Some traces of this tradition
are still to be found in Sri Lanka. (For this information, se Ven. W.
Rahula's "History of Buddhism in Ceylon").
Long before the days of the Commentaries (c. 5th Century CE), there
is another possible reference to this sutta. It occurs in the list of
seven Dhamma passages recommended for study by bhikkhus and bhikkhunis
(nuns), upasakas and upasikas (lay men and women), by the Emperor
Asoka in his Bhabru Edict. There it is called the 'Aliyavasani' which
many scholars equate with the Ariyavamsa Sutta. That the great Emperor
should have singled out this text for the study of those who follow
the Buddha Way, is indeed fitting and it is as appropriate for their
study now as it was over two thousand years ago.
In Thailand at the present time, it is one of a selection of
Discourses and other chants which come up regularly each month for
chanting in temples after the evening puja. Needless to say, it is
highly esteemed by thudong bhikkhus, many of whom know it by heart.
In the translation following, passages in brackets are explanations
drawn from the Commentary or from the Thai translation which somewhat
enlarges upon the Pali text. It is hoped that this most ancient
teaching upon the thudong life will be of some interest after the
preceding account of the Noble Lineages in the present time.
The Discourse on the Noble Lineage
Thus have I heard: At one time the Lord was dwelling near Savatthi
at the Jeta Wood in Anathapindika's Park. Then the Lord addressed the
bhikkhus saying: O bhikkhus!
Yes, Lord, responded those bhikkhus.
Then the Lord said —
Here, O bhikkhus, are these Four Lineages of the Noble Ones (Fully
Awakened Ones, Silent Buddhas and Disciples) — foremost (among
lineages such as nobles, priests, merchants, etc.), (practiced from)
days of old, traditional (to the family of Noble Ones), (handed down
from) time immemorial, neither separated from them now nor were they
separated in the past (as inseparable from the life of Noble Ones),
neither stained now nor shall they be reckoned impure in the future,
and never are they despised by wise recluses and brahmans.
1. Here, O bhikkhus, a bhikkhu is content with this or that robe
and he speaks in praise of contentment with any kind of robe (as those
made up from rags cast off, oddments of cloth, corpse-wrappings,
etc.). He does not search for robes in an unbecoming way (by hints,
indications, round-about talk, or any other intimations) and if he
does not obtain them, he is not cast down. When he has got them, he is
not attached to them, is not fascinated by them, nor has he any desire
for them. Seeing the peril (in robes acquired by wrong means) and
skilled in avoiding this, he just makes use of them. Yet he does not
exalt himself because of his contentment with any kind of robes,
(thinking, I wear rag-robes, etc.), nor does he look down upon others
(thinking, these bhikkhus wear fine robes made up by house-holders,
etc.)
O bhikkhus, whatever bhikkhu is skilled in this (matter of
contentment and in explaining to others the advantages of
contentment), who is not lazy (slipping thereby into luxurious
living), who clearly comprehends and is mindful (of the fact that he
wears the robes only to ward off cold, heat, the sting of fly and
mosquito, the touch of wind and burning sun and creeping thins, and to
conceal the body), then he is indeed well established in this foremost
Noble Lineage as handed down from time immemorial.
2. Then again, O bhikkhus, a bhikkhu is content with this or that
almsfood and he speaks in praise of contentment with any kind of
almsfood (as that collected from door to door, not favoring the rich,
nor discriminating against the poor man's food). He does not search
for almsfood in an unbecoming way (by hints, by indicating his like,
etc.) and if he does not obtain it, he is not cast down. When he has
got it, he is not attached to it, is not fascinated by it, nor has he
any desire for it. Seeing the peril (in almsfood acquired by wrong
means) and skilled in avoiding this, he just makes use of it. Yet he
does not exalt himself because of his contentment with any kind of
almsfood, (thinking, I eat only almsfood and only once a day, etc.),
nor does he look down upon others (thinking these bhikkhus take meals
by invitation and eat twice before noon, etc.).
O bhikkhus, whatever bhikkhu is skilled in this (matter of
contentment and in explaining to others the advantages of
contentment), who is not lazy (slipping thereby into luxurious
living), who clearly comprehends and is mindful (of the fact that he
eats almsfood not for amusement, intoxication, beauty or embellishment
but just enough for the support and continuance of his body, for the
ending of discomfort and for helping on the life of purity), then
indeed he is well established in this foremost Noble Lineage as handed
down from time immemorial.
3. Then again, O bhikkhus, a bhikkhu is content with this or that
shelter and he speaks in praise of contentment with any kind of
shelter (as living at a tree-root, in the forest, or in a cave, etc.).
He does not search for shelters in an unbecoming way (by asking
supporters to provide him with spacious quarters, furnished, etc.) and
if he does not obtain it, he is not cast down. When he has got it, he
is not attached to it, is not fascinated by it, nor has he any desire
for it. Seeing the peril (in a shelter acquired by wrong means) and
skilled in avoiding this, he just makes use of it. Yet he does not
exalt himself because of his contentment with any kind of shelter
(thinking, I sleep in any place available), nor does he look down upon
others (thinking, these bhikkhus live in well-built, well-furnished
quarters, in viharas, etc.).
O bhikkhus, whatever bhikkhu is skilled in this (matter of
contentment and in explaining to others the advantages of
contentment), who is not lazy, (slipping thereby into luxurious
living), who clearly comprehends and is mindful (of the fact that the
shelter is only to ward off cold, heat, the sting of fly and mosquito,
the touch of wind and burning sun and creeping things, and for
protection against adverse climatic conditions and for abiding in
seclusion) then he is indeed well established in this foremost Noble
Lineage as handed down from time immemorial.
4. Then again, O bhikkhus, a bhikkhu has development (of wholesome
mental states) as a source of happiness and he delights in it; he has
abandoning (of evil mental states) as a source of happiness and he
delights in it. By having the happiness from development and by the
delight thereof; by having the happiness from abandoning and the
delight thereof, he does not exalt himself (thinking, I enjoy the
tranquillity of transic concentration, or of insight, etc.), nor does
he look down upon others (thinking, these bhikkhus are not striving to
develop the supermind or for the superwisdom — (adhicitta, adhipañña,
etc.).
O bhikkhus, whatever bhikkhu is skilled in this (matter concerning
Restraint of the Senses, the Threefold Good Conduct in thought, word
and action, the Four Foundations of Mindfulness, the Seven Factors of
Enlightenment, leading to Deliverance by Wisdom; who is therefore also
skilled in abandoning the Five Hindrances and who has finally rid
himself of the Three Roots of Unskill — Greed, Hatred, Delusion; and
who can explain the Way whereby all this is accomplished for the
benefit of others), who is not lazy (thereby giving up striving for
attainment), who clearly comprehends and is mindful (that both
development and abandoning are practiced only for the one purpose of
insight and Enlightenment — never for gaining magic posers, etc.),
then he is indeed well established in this foremost Noble Lineage as
handed down from time immemorial.
These, O bhikkhus, are the Four Lineages of the Noble Ones, they
are
foremost, practiced from days of old, traditional, handed down
from time immemorial, neither separated from the life of Noble Ones
now nor in the past, neither stained now nor shall they be reckoned
impure in future, and are never despised by wise recluses and brahmans.
Moreover, bhikkhus, possessing these Four Lineages of the Noble
Ones, a bhikkhu may dwell in the East, or in the West, in the North or
in the South, and in whatever place he dwells, accidie (boredom in
matters spiritual) cannot overpower him, but he will overcome accidie.
Why so? O bhikkhus, such a one is a steadfast sage who has overcome
both accidie (with seclusion, quietness, etc., and with skilled mental
states) and delight (in evil ones that arise while living in seclusion
and practicing meditation. That is, by the contentment plus humility
taught in the first three Noble Lineages, the evil of accidie is
overcome — a truly contented mind is never bored; and by
development, abandoning and humility taught in the fourth Noble
Lineage, the bond of delighted attachment is broken).
Thus spoke the Lord. The Welfarer, the Teacher then said further:
Accidie does not overpower the sage.
(Because of its weakness) it cannot overpower him.
(Instead), the sage overcomes accidie,
It is he alone who overcomes it.
What hindrances can obstruct one for whom
All kamma is dispelled and given up?
Who could blame one as pure
As ornament of Jambu gold?
Even the gods of him speak praise!
Even by Brahmas is he praised!
Notes
1. 'Friend' here
signifies the Good Friend (kalyana mitta), as the meditation-master is
called.
2. See 'The Wheel'
No. 76: The Threefold Refuge, by Nyanaponika Thera.
3. For the life of
the 'book-work' bhikkhu, see Buddhism, Ch. V.3 edited by R.
Gard.
4. Fully described in
the 'Path of Purification' (Visuddhimagga), Ch. II.
5. The Buddhist
Dictionary notes: 'These 13 Ascetic exercises are all, without
exception, mentioned in the old sutta texts but never in one and the
same place; Majjh. 5, 112; A. v, 181-190" Niddesa has 8 of them
at M. Nid 1, p.188 P.T.S. edn.
6. See THE WHEEL, No.
26: The Five Mental Hindrances.
7. For many of these
chants see THE WHEEL No. 54: The Mirror of the Dhamma.
8. See THE WHEEL No.
73: The Blessings of Pindapata.
9. For these
discourses, see Wheel No. 54, The Mirror of the Dhamma.
10.
Pamsukulik'anga (Refuse-rag-wearer's) Practice, the 1st Dhutanga —
see Preamble.
11. See Wheel No.
19, The Foundations of Mindfulness.
12. Because if he
has a small Buddha-figure or Dhamma-book, it will be placed
respectfully near to his head.
13. This verse
summarizes the 8th Dhutanga Practice (Araññik'anga) — see Preamble.
14. See WHEEL No.
7, The Practice of Loving-kindness.
15. See WHEEL No.
6, The Four Sublime States.
16. The practice
of the 9th Dhutanga (Rukkha-mulik'anga) is therefore possible
at some places and times. See Preamble.
17. Thus limiting
the practice of the 10th Dhutanga, Abbhokasik'anga
Open-air-dweller's) Practice, to the dry season and cool places: see Preamble.
18. See WHEEL No.
67-69, p. 75
19. For an
interesting case of this in ancient times see the "Sutra of Hui
Neng (Wei Lang)" and the master's encounter there with Bhikkhu Fa-Ta.
20. This is a
modification of the 13th Dhutanga (Nesajjik'anga — the Sitter's
Practice). See also Preamble.
21. See Ch. VI,
"Foulness as a meditation subject." This is also
Susanik'anga (Charnel-ground-dweller's) Practice, the 11th Dhutanga.
See also Preamble.
22. For these see:
Wheel No. 60, The Satipatthana Sutta and its Applications and, The
Heart of Buddhist Meditation, Rider and Co., London.
23. Having only
three robes is the Ticivarik'anga (Triple-robe-wearer's) practice —
the 2nd Dhutanga; see Preamble.
24. Pindapatik'anga
(Almsfood-eater's) Practice, the 3rd Dhutanga; see Preamble.
25. The reverse
panels of a diptych by Hieronymus Bosch.
26. See Gulissani
Sutta, Majjhima Nikaya, No. 69.
27. See Wheel No.
20, The Three Signata.
| Source: The
Wheel Publication No. 83/84 (Kandy: Buddhist Publication
Society, 1986). Transcribed from the print edition in 1994 by
W.D. Savage under the auspices of the DharmaNet Dharma Book
Transcription Project, with the kind permission of the Buddhist
Publication Society. This transcription does not include
illustrations that appeared in the original book. Copyright ©
1986 Buddhist Publication Society. Reproduced and reformatted
from Access to Insight edition © 1994 For free distribution.
This work may be republished, reformatted, reprinted, and
redistributed in any medium. It is the author's wish, however,
that any such republication and redistribution be made available
to the public on a free and unrestricted basis and that
translations and other derivative works be clearly marked as
such. |
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