BANNER OF THE ARAHANTS
Chapter VI -
THE LIFE OF BHIKKHUS 2
The aim in the Dhamma is
to be free from desires. To attain this goal the multitude of desires, both
wholesome and unwholesome, have to be sorted out and the former strengthened
while the latter are weakened. Wholesome desires are wishes and intentions to
be generous, keep the Precepts, practise meditation and so on. The unwholesome
desires (for the Bhikkhu) are greed manifesting in desire for sensual
pleasures and these can be curbed by the thirteen austere practices. They are
concerned with various limitations upon (1) a Bhikkhu’s robes, (2) his alms
food, (3) his dwelling-place, (4) his posture. They are described here in
brief.[13]
A Bhikkhu who undertakes
the refuse-rag-wearer’s practice makes up his robes from cloth that he finds
thrown away. This he washes, dyes and cuts up and sews together as his robes.
Such a Bhikkhu refuses to accept ready-made robes presented by householders,
also clean white cloth given by them. This practise is now rare since it has
the disadvantage of making a Bhikkhu conspicuously different in his patchwork
robes. All the austere practices should be undertaken without announcing them
to others!
The triple-robe-wearer’s
practice is more common among forest Bhikkhus and really essential in the
wandering life. If a Bhikkhu is wandering on foot, he will be wearing two of
his robes while his double thick cloak is folded in his bowl. He will not wish
to carry any more robes! Apart from this, the Buddha allowed Bhikkhus to have
a set of three robes: the inner sarong-like robe, the upper robe to cover the
body coming down over the inner robe and the outer cloak of two layers of
cloth for use when really cold. Besides these three robes it would be usual to
have a bathing cloth, which is permissible according to Vinaya.
In the alms-food-eater’s
practice a Bhikkhu eats only what is given in this way. What people place in
his bowl that he later eats. He does not send laypeople out to buy more food,
or to cook this or that themselves but is content with the daily offering in
his alms bowl, whether little of it or much. This is commonly observed by
forest Bhikkhus.
The
house-to-house-seeker’s practice involves going to every house in the
direction one walks. No houses should be missed, perhaps because they give
only poor food or one gets the feeling of being unwelcome, or they are dirty -
to each house the Bhikkhu with this practice goes and stands silently for a
short time before passing on. This is possible still to practise in Sri Lanka
(or even in India) but would be very unusual in Thailand.
If a Bhikkhu eats only
once in the morning it is called the one-sessioner’s practice. He does not,
like the town Bhikkhu, have a second meal at eleven but eats after returning
from his pindapāta at about eight or nine o’clock. This meal is then
sufficient for a whole day. Commonly practised by forest Bhikkhus.
Bhikkhus in the towns
commonly have plates and dishes but one who cultivates fewness of wishes
places all his food - rice, curries, sweets and fruits, into his bowl and eats
only from that. This is therefore called the bowl-food-eater’s practice.
Again, it is very common among Bhikkhus in the forest.
Sometimes when a Bhikkhu
has already begun to eat, laypeople come late with food they wish to offer.
But if a Bhikkhu is practising the later-food-refuser’s practice he does not
accept their offerings explaining courteously why he does not do so. When
people come from far away to make the offering which has involved them in hard
work, then the Bhikkhu must decide whether it is not better to lay aside his
practice for that day so as not to disappoint those people. This is quite
commonly practised especially by individual Bhikkhus or at special times such
as the Rains-residence.
The forest dweller’s
practice is clear - a Bhikkhu who undertakes it lives in a kuti in the forest,
not in a village or town. But ‘forest’ here according to the explanations in
„The Path of Purification“ rather means anywhere outside a village which
should be „500 bow lengths away, a distance of about half a mile. All forest
Bhikkhus practise this.
The tree-root-dweller’s
practice is more severe for it means that one gives up living inside a
building and lives on a mat at the foot of a shady tree or perhaps upon a
little raised bamboo platform. This means that one is not secure from rain,
nor from various troublesome creatures like ants, or even snakes. As a Bhikkhu
must have a roof over his head and four walls round him during the three
months of the Rains residence this practice cannot be undertaken then.
Even more severe is the
open-air-dweller’s practice. Undertaking this a Bhikkhu renounces even the
shelter of trees and lives without any kind of roof and only his robes as
protection, a hard thing to do under the tropical sky. This practice also is
not for the Rains.
A practice, which is now
not possible as it was in the Buddha’s days, is the charnel-ground-dweller’s
practice. In those days bodies were often not cremated or buried but simply
taken to an outlying stretch of forest and then left there. Bodies in various
stages of decomposition and dismemberment would be found there and could be
made very good meditation subjects. „The Path of Purification“ (Ch. VI) lists
the bloated, the livid, the festering, the cut up, the gnawed, the scattered,
the hacked and scattered, the bleeding, the worm-infested and the skeleton -
as different types of corpses found there. Another list is found in the
Discourse on the Foundations of Mindfulness. But in Buddhist countries
nowadays corpses are never left to decay but always cremated. The cremation
area, a stretch of forest near a village can still be eerie enough and good
for both overcoming fear and contemplating impermanence in the shape of the
heaps of charcoal and charred bone splinters.[14]
This is still widely practised.
The any-bed-user’s
practise is especially suitable for promoting contentment The Bhikkhu who
undertakes it is content with whatever kuti he is allotted, he does not ask
for this or that place. This is another common practice.
Last in the list of
thirteen comes the sitter’s practice, undertaken by the words „I refuse lying
down or „I undertake the sitter’s practice“ Here a Bhikkhu practises
meditation and general mindfulness in only three of the four postures,
walking, standing and sitting, but not lying down. He sleeps sitting, a
practice that limits sleep and cuts down on slothfulness. Widely used by
Bhikkhus who are striving hard.
If a Bhikkhu is staying
by himself in a cave or at the root of a tree, the practices that he
undertakes will be his own choice but if he is living in a forest vihāra where
there is a meditation master then he will follow the practices generally
observed there. All of these practices make for a simplification of life, for
being unburdened from possessions and the care that must go into looking after
them. The Bhikkhu with these austere practices has therefore established
himself in the way that leads to non-attachment to material things and the
cares they bring while having energy to devote to meditation.
This brings us to glance
at the third support for Bhikkhus in forest vihāras: the practice of
meditation. As this is a vast subject it can only be briefly described asking
readers to consult the special books on the subject,[15]
or better still, a meditation master. The ordinary mind that we have is ‘wild’
or untamed. It skips about from one sense object to another interlarding all
the sensory data with memories, reflections, ideas, fantasies, hopes and
fears. Mind in fact is not one ‘thing’ but a stream of mental processes only
some of which we are aware of and we only use a small part of the great
potential of the mind. This untamed mind besides being scattered is also
weakened through the presence of constituent factors which are called
defilements The greedy mind, the lustful mind, the angry mind, the anxious
mind, the conceited mind, the slothful mind, the distracted mind, the confused
or depressed mind - these are commonly occurring mental states ruled by
defilements. The presence of defilements in the mind means, inevitably, the
experience of dukkha - what is unsatisfactory or suffering. So the untamed mind is
the source of suffering for oneself and causes suffering to others.
The first requisite for
meditation, the purification of the mind, is therefore effort. The effort
needed here is to remove the unwholesome states and cultivate wholesome states
of mind. We shall see how effort is made by the forest Bhikkhu in his life.
With effort strongly
present, awareness or mindfulness grows. The slack and lazy-minded person is
also dull and aware of little that goes on in the mind. Now mindfulness is the
most important single factor in meditation and if it is not increased and
developed, meditation cannot be expected to succeed. So the Buddha has taught
the four Foundations of Mindfulness: the body, feelings, mental states and
mental factors. Under each of these headings there are exercises listed which
sharpen mindfulness.[16]
When a person is mindful of, for instance, bodily-positions, pleasant, painful
and neutral feelings, states of mind with or without specific defilements, and
the subtle mental factors, which arise and pass away unnoticed by most people,
such alertness is the basis for deep and strong meditation.
Until mindfulness is
well established, meditation is more or less a struggle and the meditator
finds it very difficult to maintain concentration over long periods of time.
But once mindfulness is made even and continuous then distractions and other
unwholesome mental factors, which disturb concentration, can no longer arise.
If they do so, then mindfulness is quick to spot the disturbance and use some
wholesome Dhamma to cure that trouble.
There are two types of
meditation in Buddhist tradition: calm and insight. The meditation on calm or
tranquillity can be achieved by the use of many different objects - which
should be in some way connected with one’s own mind-and-body, but generally
not exterior to them. Thus mindful breathing, or the concentration upon
lovingkindness in one’s heart, or upon coloured light, are examples of
onepointedness of mind. In this type of meditation the mind is continuously
aware of only the meditation object and this leads to the experience of bliss
and peace. This can be developed so strongly that the meditator is no longer
aware of any sensual contact - nothing affect him by way of eye, ear, nose,
tongue or touch, but his mind is brilliantly aware, calm and full of joy and
rapture. Such inward states of peace are called jhāna and the meditator who
reaches them really meditates, he is no longer ‘trying to meditate’.
But with these states
alone Enlightenment cannot be attained for they correspond to a realm of
subtle existence and the meditator who dies in one of the jhāna-states just
continues to exist, or is ‘reborn’, in that state with a subtle body instead
of a gross human one. These heavenly states, called the Brahma-worlds, can be
enjoyed as the results of making good kammas - that is of having attained the
jhānas and practised them, but like all conditioned things, must pass away
eventually. Even though the life span is very long in those heavens, it also
comes to an end. Just as a rich man who lives on his capital, making no more
wealth for himself, in the end exhausts his money, so with the beings in any
of the heavenly planes. They must then be reborn in accordance with previous
kammas, perhaps as men again. All that effort to attain the jhānas has then to
be made all over again. It has not got them out of the wheel of birth and
death.
On the basis of strong
calm the second kind of meditation can be developed - and this is unique to
the Buddha’s Teachings. This is called insight (vipassanā),
which grows into wisdom (paññā) and
it is this wisdom, which cuts off the basis for future birth and death and
opens the gate to Enlightenment. Insight into what? Insight into the three
characteristics of all living beings: impermanence, unsatisfactoriness
(suffering) and non-self.[17]
Though we sometimes know about our own impermanence this undoubted fact is not
always clearly present in our minds. As we do not comprehend it all the time,
so we grasp at people, possessions, places and experiences as permanent -
including our own minds and bodies. So we are deluded and upset when our
delusion is made clear to us by impermanence - the loss of loved ones, the
breaking or loss of possessions, and so on. And most of all we fear
impermanence manifesting in this body.
Whatever is impermanent,
that is also unsatisfactory. No reliance can be placed upon impermanent
events; they offer no security. Yet we live in a world of impermanent events,
which are happenings, perceived by way of the five senses and sorted by the
mind. Not only the objects ‘out there’ are impermanent but more important, the
processes of perception are changing all the time. But we live attached to
impermanent things trying to pretend that they are permanent so we experience
dukkha, the unsatisfactorines of the
continually passing show.
Now whatever is
impermanent and unsatisfactory, that cannot be myself. Self or soul is taken
to be something permanent. However nothing like this can be found among
impermanent and conditioned things. The sense of ownership, which we have over
this mind and body, is therefore useless and deluded. All that is body,
feeling, perception, mental formations and consciousness the sum total of
myself, should be seen with insight-wisdom as not-self. When this has been
accomplished there is no identification with these transitory component parts
and instead „The mind gone to the Unconditioned, to craving’s destruction it
has come“. (See Chapter I). Nibbāna has been attained, Arahantship realised
and the miseries of the wheel of birth and death forever extinguished. This is
how meditation, in brief, leads to the final attainment, which is the goal of
the forest Bhikkhu.
The day to day life of
these Bhikkhus is undisturbed by many exterior events but there will be
differences depending on whether a Bhikkhu stays in a forest vihāra under the
guidance of a Teacher, or whether he is wandering in the forest or staying by
himself for some time in a cave or other quiet place. As new Bhikkhus and
samaneras must stay with a Teacher who will usually be the abbot of a forest
vihāra, this mode of life will be described first.
When a new day dawns a
forest Bhikkhu will just have finished his meditation in his own hut or kuti.
It is about six o’clock, a little before or after depending on season, and he
gathers his things to take them to the hall or sālā. He will have his three
robes, the lower one secured with the waistband he has on, the upper one
either carried over his shoulder or gathered round him like a shawl according
to how cool it is. The outer robe he carries folded up probably in his bowl,
in which there will also be a sitting-cloth, wiping-cloth and a clean
handkerchief. In the hand not engaged with his bowl he has a water-kettle and
a mug. On reaching the sālā he removes his sandals and carefully places them
where others will not step on them and goes up the steps to find his place
among the Bhikkhus. When he has put his bowl down he prostrates thrice to the
Buddha image. He must then arrange his sitting-cloth on the floor and his
other things neatly in the place to which he is entitled by the order of
seniority. The Abbot and Teacher is usually most senior in Rains and he has
the first seat, raised up by a thin cushion on the floor and another cushion
for resting the back. After him the Bhikkhus are seated in order of seniority.
If new Bhikkhus arrive then they are courteously asked about the number of
their Rains. So that they can be seated appropriately. But before all the
arrangements can be made for the meal the sālā has to be swept, then each
Bhikkhu lays out his own sitting-cloth and bowl in his right place. The bowls
and so on of senior Bhikkhus including the Teacher are brought to the sālā by
junior Bhikkhus, or by samaneras and everything is carefully prepared for them
before they arrive.
When all this has been
finished it is still too early to go to the village. But there is no chatting
or wasting time, for the sālā is vigorously polished and dusted till the
wooden floor shines. The forest Teachers lay emphasis upon physical vigour,
plus mindfulness, as an aid to mental vigour. One who is lazy and slothful
cannot shake off the defilements; only the vigorous person has the chance to
do that. - But though things are done vigorously, there is no noise. Bhikkhus
speak softly, do their work quietly where possible and leave it neat and tidy.
All this is the good result of mindfulness.
The time for going to
the village arrives and the Bhikkhus and samaneras put on their robes and then
carefully pick up their bowls in their slings, the strap of which goes on the
right shoulder under the robe. Young Bhikkhus will also take the bowls of the
Teacher and other Theras so that they may walk unburdened by them as far as
the village.
Walking to the village a
mile or two miles away is in silence. The only morning is silent apart from
birds and the bells on the necks of the water buffalo. It is a very good time
to practise walking meditation. Bhikkhus walk as fast as they like - in the
cold weather this keeps the blood circulating in the feet but the fast walkers
must wait for everyone else just outside the village. Often the Teacher is one
of the last to arrive - which gives him a chance to observe the conduct of his
Bhikkhus walking to the village. When he comes up to the waiting Bhikkhus, the
Bhikkhu with his bowl gives it to him respectfully and all the Bhikkhus follow
him in a long line, in order of seniority.
Now their walk is
steady, their eyes fixed a plough’s length in front as they go round the
village streets. Groups of laypeople, both men and women, have gathered
outside their houses with baskets in their hands. These baskets are full of
the glutinous rice which is the staple of NE Thailand and Laos. With their
hands they each place a lump of this in the bowls as the Bhikkhus pass before
them. Occasionally someone will offer bananas as well but usually only the
rice is put in the bowl. Some vihāras have energetic small boys, destined to
become samaneras, who collect the curries, vegetables and fruit from the
laypeople and put them in tiffin-carriers. In other places some of the
lay-people take these things to the vihāra and eat there themselves after the
Bhikkhus have finished.
Slowly the bowls fill
and after going round the village to accept all the offerings which people
wish to make, the Bhikkhus leave. Just as they reach the village outskirts the
young Bhikkhus and samaneras run forward and offer to take the bowls of the
Teacher and other senior Bhikkhus. So the young vigorous Bhikkhus have two
rather heavy bowls to carry back to the vihāra but they set off at a good
pace.
On arriving at the sālā
each Bhikkhu washes his feet before entering and dries them. Lay people or
samaneras will do this for all the senior Bhikkhus at least. Before the
Bhikkhus are seated they prostrate three times. As the more senior Bhikkhus
return they will find that everything is ready to begin serving the food.
Their bowls have been removed from their slings and placed neatly on their
bowl stands. If they have been touched by samaneras or laypeople then the
latter have to offer them back to a Bhikkhu. Bhikkhus cannot accept food that
has not been offered into their bowls while they are holding them. For the
same reason the curries and so on, have to be offered in their various
containers.
When all the Bhikkhus
are seated the Teacher begins to put into his bowl whatever he wants to eat
with the rice, surplus rice having been removed already. Each container he
passes on to the next senior Bhikkhu - and so all eventually reach even the
newest samanera. Where amounts of some things are insufficient for all, the
Teacher may send them down to be shared among the samaneras, or when the
ladling of food into the bowls has ceased he may get up and go to see whether
the samaneras have enough or not. Individual Bhikkhus also collect titbits for
some of the samaneras who have been diligent and respectful and send them down
the line. Thus everyone has enough.
The aim is to put into
one’s bowl just the right amount for eating but this is not possible when many
laypeople arrive to make merit on the same day or on Buddhist festivals. They
offer so many things that even taking a little from each the bowl begin to
fill. It is inevitable that food will be left over on these days but it is not
wasted for hungry villagers relish it. (Some lay people even suppose that it
has special power having been in the Bhikkhus’ bowls!)
Before beginning to eat
and when the last samanera has finished with the last dish, the Teacher begins
to chant the verses of ‘Rejoicing-with’ in which the Bhikkhus join in some
vihāras. This is quite brief and usually followed by some minutes of silent
contemplation.
What do the Bhikkhus
reflect on at this time? One text they may bring to mind is, „Reflecting
carefully I use this alms food …“ (see p.
75). Another subject they can bring to mind is the loathsomeness of
food (which will have been easier to see when the alms food was spooned into
one’s bowl in the Buddha’s days, all mixed together, but is more difficult
now, specially when choice things are prepared)! The Buddha advised Bhikkhus
to have moderation in eating and to control greed by reflecting on
loathsomeness. A chapter in „The Path of Purification“ elaborates on this
theme. The Buddha himself compared alms food to one’s son’s flesh. He told the
story of a couple who were travelling across a desert with their only son, a
child of tender age. Part way across their food ran out and they considered
slaying their own son in order to survive but he died of exhaustion first.
Then they cut up his body and dried the flesh and, sustained on this diet,
crossed the desert. The Buddha asked the Bhikkhus, ‘Will they eat this with
greed and craving or will it be only just enough to sustain them?’ The
Bhikkhus replied that they would eat moderately and not with greed. Thus, the
Buddha said, should alms food be eaten.[18]
The food is eaten with
the right hand from the bowl and while this is going on there is no talking,
unless the Teacher has something to say to the laypeople. Mostly there is
silent concentration on the reasons for eating food. Each Bhikkhu eats as much
as he feels is necessary „so that former feelings of hunger are destroyed and
new feelings from overeating do not arise. As soon as each Bhikkhu is
satisfied he washes his hand in his bowl lid and then tips the water into the
spittoon. Then he rises and takes out his bowl and spittoon for washing. Also
he takes the bowls of Bhikkhus senior to him and their spittoons. When they
have been carefully washed and then dried in the sālā they are set in the
sun’s heat for a few moments to dry off any remaining moisture. A Bhikkhu must
not be negligent and let his bowl rust. The requisites of the Theras are
returned to their kutis and arranged properly after which the Bhikkhu takes
his own things back.
Perhaps at this time he
has to visit the latrine. If the vihāra has been built a long time it is
likely to have enamelled squatting-type latrines over a pit dug by the
samaneras and laymen with the Bhikkhus helping. The inside is spotlessly
clean, another area where the Vinaya regulations are carefully applied. A
leading Meditation Master in NE Thailand has said that one may know a good
vihāra by two facts: Are the novices (samaneras) respectful? Are the latrines
clean? The first of these points means that if the samaneras, the youngest and
least trained element in the vihāra, are respectful, then everyone else will
be so and the vihāra harmonious. As to the latrines, everyone uses them but do
not belong to anyone. People who are not mindful do not clean up after
themselves or they do not see to it that supplies of things are renewed there.
But where everything is in good order in such a place, the rest of the vihāra
is likely to be well run and peaceful. A small walled and roofed latrine
contains a large water-jar with a top on it to prevent mosquitoes laying eggs
there and a scoop for washing oneself when one has finished. Soap and a candle
and matches will also be found. In some places there is paper but most vihāras
still have the narrow strips of smooth bamboo used with the water for
cleansing.
More primitive
arrangements are simple pits in the forest with some wood over the top. The
contemplation on the changes wrought on that delicious food can be continued
by regarding the filth below seething with maggots.
The Bhikkhu after his
meal will probably pace up and down on his meditation walk for half an hour or
so. The Buddha mentioned that this path has five benefits: „It hardens one for
travelling; it is good for striving; it is healthy; (its use) tends to good
digestion after one has eaten and drunk; the concentration won upon a
meditation-path lasts a long time“ (Numerical Collection, Book of the Fives,
Discourse 29. Adapted from Hare’s rendering in Gradual Sayings III).
His meditation-path is
some way from his kuti and preferably surrounded by shady trees so that it can
also be used during the day though mostly used at night. When he has dispelled
any sleepiness from the meal he sits down under his kuti or nearby to make
various articles used by Bhikkhus. He may make toothpick-brushes out of a log
of bitter-tasting wood. This is bashed on one end with a stone so that the
fibres curl down. When plenty of fibre has been exposed, slivers are cut off
the log and smoothed, one end to a fine point, the other being the fibrous
‘brush’. Bundles of these are presented to one’s, Teacher, to visiting Theras
and to Bhikkhu-friends. Some Bhikkhus are skilled at making the large
umbrellas that forest Bhikkhus carry and from which a mosquito not is hung so
that a Bhikkhu has a secure ‘tent’ to meditate in. Another thing, which is
made skilfully from bamboo growing in the vihāra, is the bamboo broom used
everyday for cleaning the grounds. After an hour or two of these small works a
Bhikkhu may rest during the heat of the day.
Occasionally Bhikkhus
have some heavy work to do, a new sālā or kuti to erect, fencing or gateposts
to see to, or individual Bhikkhus seeing rust in their bowls decide to oxidise
them afresh. This involves stripping the old oxidised layer and collecting
plenty of firewood, an old but clean oil drum, and one or two friends to help.
The bowl is placed upside down on sandy ground supported by stones with the
drum fitting over it and made airtight. Then the bamboo or wood is heaped up
around and lit, five fires being made in this way in the course of the day.
When the evening comes and the last fire has burnt low, the embers are removed
and the drum very carefully taken off. And there, if he is lucky, is a
beautiful silver-grey surface inside and outside the bowl-which should prevent
rust for another five years with careful handling.
Another all-day job,
which comes up from time to time, is making robes. A number of forest Bhikkhus
are skilled at sewing, these days using a machine, although one can still find
Bhikkhus who can handsew a set of robes, usually for presentation to some
revered Teacher. An upper robe, cutting the material in strips, marking the
seams and crosspieces and sewing together, takes about one day to make. An
outer robe, which is double thick and more difficult to make, can take nearly
two days. It is usual to cut robes from bolts of white cloth (given by lay
supporters), so afterwards they have to be dyed the yellow-brown obtained from
boiling up jak-wood.
Every week or two,
depending on season, there is a washing day when fires are lighted, jak-wood
chips boiled up and all Bhikkhus bring their robes for washing and re-dyeing.
The younger members of the Sangha of course serve teachers and senior
Bhikkhus. This is also a job needing all the morning and some of the
afternoon.
Then every month, on the
day before Full Moon, it is time to shave the head. Bhikkhus generally shave
each other. The one who is shaving taking care not to cause any cuts with his
open razor, a thing rather disgraceful if it happens since it indicates a lack
of mindfulness and skill, while the one being shaved reflects perhaps upon
impermanence - the falling of his hair. Solitary Bhikkhus shave themselves
with the same ‘cut-throat’ type of razor and show their skill and perfect
mindfulness by their perfectly shaved heads. One slip of mindfulness means one
cut!
A rest during the midday
would be normal for those Bhikkhus who try not to sleep at night - which is
the best time for meditation. They rest from about ten o’clock when the sālā
has been cleaned until about three in the afternoon. This is a quiet time in
the vihāra and few Bhikkhus can be seen then. There will be one or two
samaneras staying under the sālā in order to receive any guests, who may
happen to come at this time,
Receiving a guest in the
proper way is an important part of Bhikkhu training. If he is a senior Bhikkhu
his reception will cause a stir, even though it is during the quiet time.
Samaneras will go to receive his bowl and shoulder bag. Someone will pour
water over his feet from the pot at the entrance of the sālā and they will
then be dried. Meanwhile up in the sālā, Bhikkhus and samaneras, some alerted
by the sound of an approaching vehicle, have hurried about and set out an
appropriate sitting-place with at least a bottle of water, a glass and a
spittoon. Sometimes other drinks are offered together with betel and arecanuts
for chewing. When the Thera has reached his seat he pays respect to the Buddha
image and the pictures of enlightened Teachers before he sits down. His upper
robe is taken by samaneras to spread out and dry, while in hot weather he will
be fanned. The abbot of that vihāra will hasten there and pay his respects to
the visitor if the latter is senior to him and all other Bhikkhus do likewise.
Even if the guests are a party of people from a local village they are invited
into the sālā where mats are spread and water set out to drink.
The first noise, which
marks the end of the midday period, is a gentle but insistent one: the swish
of the long bamboo brooms over the sandy paths. When a senior Bhikkhu begins
to sweep, the sound is heard by his neighbour in a kuti perhaps fifty yards
away so that he begins sweeping - and so it spreads all over the vihāra.
Bhikkhus first sweep their own kutis, a job done every day.
All the paths and open
spaces too have to be swept each day. This is partly so that the vihāra is
neat and clean but also because dead leaves on the ground can harbour
dangerous insects and reptiles which the forest Bhikkhu, with bare feet, does
not want to tread on. Sweeping is also fine exercise for the body and a good
time to exert the mind with one’s meditation subject. The Parivāra, the fifth
book of the Vinaya, gives five advantages of brooms: „one calms one’s own
mind; one calms the minds of others; the devas are glad; one accumulates kamma
that is conducive to what is pleasant; at the breaking up of the body after
dying one arises in a good born, a heaven world“. In a further five benefits,
the first three are the same, and then „The Teacher’s instruction is carried
out; people coming after fall into the way of (right) views“.[19]
Brooms are much esteemed! The whole vihāra, round about each kuti, the winding
paths and the open space about the sālā may take an hour to sweep.
As sweeping raises dust,
the open-sided sālā has to be cleaned before the next piece of work. This is
to fill all the water pots in the various latrines and those smaller ones
outside each kuti. (The latter are used when a Bhikkhu will enter his kuti,
which he cannot do with dirty feet, or for washing his face, etc.). The water
comes from a well and is raised by a number of manually operated devices.
Teachers generally do not approve of machines being used for this, partly
because they are noisy, partly because Bhikkhus lose some chance for good
exercise. The water is carried round the vihāra in large tins suspended from a
bamboo pole borne on the shoulders of two Bhikkhus. When all the pots are full
it is time for a bath.
The Teacher usually has
his own bathroom but all the other Bhikkhus bathe round the wellhead from
buckets of water, which they tip over themselves, soap, and then more water.
The bathing cloth is used at this time in accordance with the Buddha’s
instructions that Bhikkhus should not be naked in a public place.
Cool and refreshed the
Bhikkhus may then go to the fire-sālā, a small open building with a room for
storing tea, coffee, cocoa and sugar-and any other things that bhikkhus can
take as medicine after midday. Such things as myrobalan, an astringent
plum-like fruit, pickled in brine with chilli (a purgative!), garlic, salt and
various dried stems or roots, which can be used for different complaints. But
this hot drink may not be available every night. If Bhikkhus have had to work
during the morning and early afternoon then the Teacher will allow some
refreshment. On other days there is nothing except plentiful supplies of
rainwater from the tanks round the sālā. This is true for every day of the
year in the more remote vihāras. Those near to ‘progress’ may have the
benefits of bottled drinks as well but they have also to put up with a lot of
visitors!
Even when Bhikkhus
gather, as at this time, conversation is limited to necessary subjects, which
are discussed both quietly and briefly. Teachers discourage much talking which
tends to turn to worldly things. Absolute silence, or vows to remain silent
cannot be made, the Buddha having criticised some Bhikkhus who did so,
comparing them to horses, cows and sheep! Soft, gentle speech, which is to the
point, is commended.
Brief evening has come.
Some vihāras have a regular evening meeting at which all the Bhikkhus and
samaneras led by the Teacher do the Evening Chanting with laypeople joining in
if any are present. At other places the Teacher does not like to have meetings
so often and they may be held on each Holiday (the four phases of the Moon),
or even only on the two Uposatha-days (the Full and New Moondays). In some
vihāras there is no chanting and the Bhikkhus gather and sit in silence until
the Teacher arrives when they pay their respects to him and he begins his
discourse.
However that discourse
begins, it is not usually based, like a town-Bhikkhu’s sermon, on a quotation
from the Buddha word. Usually the Teacher takes; up some incident of that day,
or recently, and makes that the basis for his talk. Perhaps he has seen
someone breaking a Vinaya rule, or he knows the mind of another Bhikkhu, which
is going on the wrong path of practice, thinking the wrong sort of thoughts.
If laypeople are present, the Dhamma talk may be addressed to them - all about
events in the local village, or how to live at peace with others, encouraging
them to make merit as the basis of happiness, or explaining sets of Dhammas,
which they will find useful in everyday life. In any case, there is complete
silence on the part of the Bhikkhus and the laity. No one even coughs or moves
any part of the body while the discourse is going on. Everyone listens
intently. This intent listening to the Dhamma can be the foundation of
Enlightenment when the Dhamma spoken is exactly suited to the minds attuned to
it.
When the discourse has
ended - and sometimes it may go on for hours, all pay respects to the Buddha,
Dhamma and Sangha, after which all the Bhikkhus and samaneras honour the
Teacher with three prostrations. Sitting mats, bottles of water and glasses
are quietly put away and the candles extinguished on the shrine. All disperse
silently to their kutis.
The night is the time
for samana-dhamma. ‘Samana’ is ‘one who makes himself peaceful in mind, speech
and body’, hence a Bhikkhu or nun, while Dhamma is what should be practised to
bring this about. But before a Bhikkhu goes to meditate he may have something
to do for his Teachers. It is common at this time, especially if the Teacher
is old, to massage his legs and back. This gives Bhikkhus a good chance to ask
personal questions about meditation or other ways of conduct. And the Teacher
in answering may refer to other Teachers, perhaps to the venerable Tun Acharn
Mun Bhuridatta Thera, or to other great Teachers and their lives. A small
group of Bhikkhus and samaneras kneels around their Teacher and listens to his
words, sometimes late into the night …
Returning to the kuti
invigorated by the Teacher’s words, a Bhikkhu does not feel like sleeping but
to ward off sloth he may decide to do walking-meditation. If there is no moon
he lights some small candles and places them on tree-stumps or rocks at either
end of his walk so that he will not tread on a snake or any other creature.
When the wind blows he has made himself a small collapsible cloth lantern in
which candles can be fixed. Before beginning his walk he places his hands
together reverently and recollects the Triple Gem and then begins steadily
pacing back and forth, at each end checking that the mind is fixed on the
meditation subject. His walking can go on for hours, indeed some Bhikkhus
prefer this to sitting meditation, but usually after an hour or two a Bhikkhu
will change to the sitting posture in his kuti or outside on its veranda.
Night is the time when
it is good to meditate. In the tropics it is cooler, it is also much quieter
then. But the greatest advantage at this time is that the defilements become
manifest more clearly. Slothfulness is an obvious example, especially at one
or two in the morning! Also desires of various kinds raise their heads and can
be recognised with mindfulness. Fears too come on with the night: darkness,
snakes, tigers or just the unknown. The forest Bhikkhu trains himself to face
them and so become fearless. At night he is out of sight even of
fellow-Bhikkhus. He is the doer of heroic deeds, the true hero who conquers
himself.
-
„Though one conquer on the battlefield
-
a thousand times a thousand men,
-
yet should one conquer just, oneself
-
one, is indeed the greatest conqueror“.
-
(Dhammapada, verse 103).
Now if we consider the
forest Bhikkhu life outside a vihāra it is much simplified by comparison with
the account above. A Bhikkhu has only eight possessions or requisites, whether
he lives in town or forest: three robes (lower, upper and outer cloak), a
waistband, a bowl, a water-strainer, a razor, and needle and thread as the
eighth. There will be few other things that a wandering Bhikkhu wishes to
carry. These days he will have besides them: a shoulder-bag (for handkerchief,
small medicines, penknife etc.), a water bottle in a sling and a
klot - umbrella, mosquito net, also
in a sling. Already he has quite a load! In the days of the Buddha (and in
other Buddhist countries apart from Thailand) the
klot and shoulder bag are not used
though a forest Bhikkhu can have a very hard time trying to meditate while
surrounded by swarms of hungry mosquitoes!
So, fewness of
possessions marks the wandering Bhikkhu. Few possessions mean few troubles.
While the Bhikkhu in a forest vihāra has to clean his own kuti and sweep all
the vihāra grounds each day, the lone Bhikkhu in forest or cave has no such
duties. This does not mean that he can be lazy: on the contrary, he must be
more alert, more aware, more mindful since he has so much more time to
himself. For this reason, only experienced Bhikkhus of more than five Rains go
off by themselves for long periods. Newer Bhikkhus stay with a Teacher until
their practice is strong enough to live in the wilds.
To live content in a
cave or on a little platform in the forest, or among some rocks, is the mark
of a Bhikkhu whose mind has turned away from worldly comfort. He finds
happiness from his practice and from possession of very few things. A meal
once a day is plenty and sometimes if his meditation is going well he does not
bother with that. Some water to drink; his robes to keep off heat or cold; a
klot to shelter in and the simple
medicines which trees and plants offer to cure at least minor sickness - with
these he lives as though in an abundance of riches.
Loneliness is something
he enjoys for it helps him to develop onepointedness of mind and finally to
attain that security from the defilements which the mind reaches at the
moments of seeing the Path and knowing Nibbāna. But his aloneness is not that
of the misanthrope, for part of his practice is developing
mettā or loving-kindness so vast
that it embraces all the worlds and planes of existence.
But to attain this goal
of Enlightenment requires, at least, very great efforts in this life. Helpful
too for its accomplishment will be a stock of good kammas made in past lives.
It is true that there are some people who have only to hear a few words to set
them on the path to Enlightenment but they have always been few. Others
require only a single discourse to inspire them and gain the Noble Paths and
Fruits but they are rare too. Most of us, if we are to get anywhere, must have
repeated instruction after which we must practise hard for many years before
attainment comes. Finally, there are those for whom „words are the highest“ -
meaning that because of blockages from past bad kammas they cannot attain
anything is this life however hard they may try.
There is a phrase in the
Pali Canon often repeated in the stock passage, which describes the
enlightenment of a Bhikkhu: „in no long time“ he attained Arahantship (See for
instance the Discourse about Ratthapala in the Appendix). The Commentary says
that this „No long time“ spent in the wilds was in Rathapala’s cave, twelve
years. Most people these days when so many things are ‘quick’ or even
’instant’ would certainly call this a long time. They might be prepared to do
a seven day course, or one lasting a fortnight, even a month, but the number
who would spend a year or longer at systematic and careful application of
Dhamma and Vinaya, are few indeed. Short periods of practice are useful for
those who have no time for more extended efforts but they can never replace
the single-minded devotion and renunciation exemplified by the forest Bhikkhu.
His way of life now is
not very different from that of Bhikkhus in the Buddha-time among whom there
were so many Arahants. It is not surprising therefore, that some who have made
the Dhamma their very own by penetrating its truth in their own hearts, are
still to be found among forest Bhikkhus today.
