                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                        IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT
    
    
 Take a look at your fear...One day, as it was nearing nightfall, 
 there was nothing else for it...If I tried to reason with myself I'd 
 never go, so I grabbed a //pa-kow// and just went.
    
    "If it's time for it to die then let it die. If my mind is going 
 to be so stubborn and stupid then let it die"...that's how I thought 
 to myself. Actually in my heart I didn't really want to go but I 
 forced myself to. When it comes to things like this, if you wait 
 till everything's just right you'll end up never going. When would 
 you ever train yourself? So I just went.
    
    I'd never stayed in a charnel ground before. When I got there, 
 words can't describe the way I felt. The //pa-kow// wanted to camp 
 right next to me but I wouldn't have it. I made him stay far away. 
 Really I wanted him to stay close to keep me company but I wouldn't 
 have it. I made him move away, otherwise I'd have counted on him for 
 support.
    
    "If it's going to be so afraid then let it die tonight."
    
    I was afraid, but I dared. It's not that I wasn't afraid, but I 
 had courage. In the end you have to die anyway.
    
    Well, just as it was getting dark I had my chance, in they came 
 carrying a corpse. Just my luck! I couldn't even feel my feet touch 
 the ground, I wanted to get out of there so badly. They wanted me to 
 do some funeral chants but I wouldn't get involved, I just walked 
 away. In a few minutes, after they'd gone, I just walked back and 
 found that they had buried the corpse right next to my spot, making 
 the bamboo used for carrying it into a bed for me to stay on.
    
    So now what was I do? It's not that the village was nearby, 
 either, a good two or three kilometers away.
    
    "Well, if I'm going to die, I'm going to die"...If you've never 
 dared to do it you'll never know what it's like. It's really an 
 experience.
    
    As it got darker and darker I wondered where there was to run to 
 in the middle of that charnel ground.
    
    "Oh, let it die. One is born to this life only to die, anyway."
    
    As soon as the sun sank the night told me to get inside my 
 //glot//. [*] I didn't want to do any walking meditation, I only 
 wanted to get into my net. Whenever I tried to walk towards the 
 grave it was as if something was pulling me back from behind, to 
 stop me from walking. It was as if my feelings of fear and courage 
 were having a tug-of-war with me. But I did it. This is the way you 
 must train yourself.
 
 * [//Glot// -- the Thai "//dhutanga//" or forest-dwelling monks' 
 large umbrella from which, suspended from a tree, they hang a 
 mosquito net in which to stay while in the forest.]
 
 
    When it was dark I got into my mosquito net. It felt as if I had 
 a seven-tiered wall all around me. Seeing my trusty alms bowl there 
 beside me was like seeing an old friend. Even a bowl can be a friend 
 sometimes! Its presence beside me was comforting. I had a bowl for a 
 friend at least.
    
    I sat in my net watching over the body all night. I didn't lie 
 down or even doze off, I just sat quietly. I couldn't be sleepy even 
 if I wanted to, I was so scared. Yes, I was scared, and yet I did 
 it. I sat through the night.
    
    Now who would have the guts to practice like this? Try it and 
 see. When it comes to experiences like this who would dare to go and 
 stay in a charnel ground? If you don't actually do it you don't get 
 the results, you don't really practice. This time I really 
 practiced.
    
    When day broke I felt, "Oh! I've survived!" I was so glad, I just 
 wanted to have daytime, no night time at all. I wanted to kill off 
 the night and leave only daylight. I felt so good, I had survived. I 
 thought, "Oh, there's nothing to it, it's just my own fear, that's 
 all."
    
    After almsround and eating the meal I felt good, the sunshine 
 came out, making me feel warm and cozy. I had a rest and walked a 
 while. I thought, "This evening I should have some good, quiet 
 meditation, because I've already been through it all last night. 
 There's probably nothing more to it."
    
    Then, later in the afternoon, wouldn't you know it? In comes 
 another one, a big one this time. [*] They brought the corpse in and 
 cremated it right beside my spot, right in front of my //glot//. 
 This was even worse than last night!
    
 * [The body on the first night had been that of a child.]
 
 
    "Well, that's good", I thought, "bringing in this corpse to burn 
 here is going to help my practice".
    
    But still I wouldn't go and do any rites for them, I waited for 
 them to leave first before taking a look.
    
    Burning that body for me to sit and watch over all night, I can't 
 tell you how it was. Words can't describe it. Nothing I could say 
 could convey the fear I felt. In the dead of night, remember. The 
 fire from the burning corpse flickered red and green and the flames 
 pattered softly. I wanted to do walking meditation in front of the 
 body but could hardly bring myself to do it. Eventually I got into 
 my net. The stench from the burning flesh lingered all through the 
 night.
    
    And this was before things really started to happen...As the 
 flames flickered softly I turned my back on the fire. 
    
    I forgot about sleep, I couldn't even think of it, my eyes were 
 fixed rigid with fear. And there was nobody to turn to, there was 
 only me. I had to rely on myself. I could think of nowhere to go, 
 there was nowhere to run to in that pitch black night.
    
    "Well, I'll sit and die here. I'm not moving from this spot."
    
    Here, talking of the ordinary mind, would it want to do this? 
 Would it take you to such a situation? If you tried to reason it out 
 you'd never go. Who would want to do such a thing? If you didn't 
 have strong faith in the teaching of the Buddha you'd never do it.
    
    Now, about 10 p.m., I was sitting with my back to the fire. I 
 don't know what it was, but there came a sound of shuffling from the 
 fire behind me. Had the coffin just collapsed? Or maybe a dog was 
 getting the corpse? But no, it sounded more like a buffalo walking 
 steadily around.
    
    "Oh, never min..."
    
    But then it started walking towards me, just like a person! 
    
    It walked up behind me, the footsteps heavy, like a buffalo's, 
 and yet not...The leaves crunched under the footsteps as it made its 
 way round to the front. Well, I could only prepare for the worst, 
 where else was there to go? But it didn't really come up to me, it 
 just circled around in front and then went off in the direction of 
 the //pa-kow//. Then all was quiet. I don't know what it was, but my 
 fear made me think of many possibilities.
    
    It must have been about half-an-hour later, I think, when the 
 footsteps started coming back from the direction of the //pa-kow//. 
 Just like a person! It came right up to me, this time, heading for 
 me as if to run me over! I closed my eyes and refused to open them.
    
    "I'll die with my eyes closed."
    
    It got closer and closer until it stopped dead in front of me and 
 just stood stock still. I felt as if it were waving burnt hands back 
 and forth in front of my closed eyes. Oh! This was really it! I 
 threw out everything, forgot all about Buddho, Dhammo and Sangho. I 
 forgot everything else, there was only the fear in me, stacked in 
 full to the brim. My thoughts couldn't go anywhere else, there was 
 only fear. From the day I was born I had never experienced such 
 fear. Buddho and Dhammo had disappeared, I don't know where. There 
 was only fear welling up inside my chest until it felt like a 
 tightly-stretched drumskin.
    
    "Well, I'll just leave it as it is, there's nothing else to do."
    
    I sat as if I wasn't even touching the ground and simply noted 
 what was going on. The fear was so great that it filled me, like a 
 jar completely filled with water. If you pour water until the jar is 
 completely full, and then pour some more, the jar will overflow. 
 Likewise, the fear built up so much within me that it reached its 
 peak and began to overflow.
    
    "What am I so afraid of anyway?" a voice inside me asked.
    
    "I'm afraid of death", another voice answered.
    
    "Well, then, where is this thing 'death'? Why all the panic? Look 
 where death abides. Where is death?"
    
    "Why, death is within me!"
    
    "If death is within you, then where are you going to run to 
 escape it? If you run away you die, if you stay here you die. 
 Wherever you go it goes with you because death lies within you, 
 there's nowhere you can run to. Whether you are afraid or not you 
 die just the same, there's nowhere to escape death."
    
    As soon as I had thought this, my perception seemed to change 
 right around. All the fear completely disappeared as easily as 
 turning over one's own hand. It was truly amazing. So much fear and 
 yet it could disappear just like that! Non-fear arose in its place. 
 Now my mind rose higher and higher until I felt as if I was in the 
 clouds.
    
    As soon as I had conquered the fear, rain began to fall. I don't 
 know what sort of rain it was, the wind was so strong. But I wasn't 
 afraid of dying now. I wasn't afraid that the branches of the trees 
 might come crashing down on me. I paid it no mind. The rain 
 thundered down like a hot-season torrent, really heavy. By the time 
 the rain had stopped everything was soaking wet.
    
    I sat unmoving.
    
    So what did I do next, soaking wet as I was? I cried! The tears 
 flowed down my cheeks. I cried as I thought to myself,
    
    "Why am I sitting here like some sort of orphan or abandoned 
 child, sitting, soaking in the rain like a man who owns nothing, 
 like an exile?"
    
    And then I thought further, "All those people sitting comfortably 
 in their homes right now probably don't even suspect that there is a 
 monk sitting, soaking in the rain all night like this. What's the 
 point of it all?" Thinking like this I began to feel so thoroughly 
 sorry for myself that the tears came gushing out.
    
    "They're not good things anyway, these tears, let them flow right 
 on out until they're all gone."
    
    This was how I practiced.
    
    Now I don't know how I can describe the things that followed. I 
 sat...sat and listened. After conquering my feelings I just sat and 
 watched as all manner of things arose in me, so many things that 
 were possible to know but impossible to describe. And I thought of 
 the Buddha's words...//Paccattam veditabbo vinnuhi// [*]-- "the wise 
 will know for themselves'.
 
 * [The last line of the traditional Pali lines listing the qualities 
 of the Dhamma.]
 
 
    That I had endured such suffering and sat through the rain like 
 this...who was there to experience it with me? Only I could know 
 what it was like. There was so much fear and yet the fear 
 disappeared. Who else could witness this? The people in their homes 
 in the town couldn't know what it was like, only I could see it. It 
 was a personal experience. Even if I were to tell others they 
 wouldn't really know, it was something for each individual to 
 experience for himself. The more I contemplated this the clearer it 
 became. I became stronger and stronger, my conviction become firmer 
 and firmer, until daybreak.
    
    When I opened my eyes at dawn, everything was yellow. I had been 
 wanting to urinate during the night but the feeling had eventually 
 stopped. When I got up from my sitting in the morning everywhere I 
 looked was yellow, just like the early morning sunlight on some 
 days. When I went to urinate there was blood in the urine!
    
    "Eh? Is my gut torn or something?" I got a bit of fright..."Maybe 
 it's really torn inside there."
    
    "Well, so what? If it's torn it's torn, who is there to blame?" a 
 voice told me straight away. "If it's torn it's torn, if I die I 
 die. I was only sitting here, I wasn't doing any harm. If it's going 
 to burst, let it burst", the voice said.
    
    My mind was as if arguing or fighting with itself. One voice 
 would come from one side, saying, "Hey, this is dangerous!" Another 
 voice would counter it, challenge it and over-rule it. 
    
    My urine was stained with blood.
    
    "Hmm. Where am I going to find medicine?"
    
    "I'm not going to bother with that stuff. A monk can't cut plants 
 for medicine anyway. If I die, I die, so what? What else is there to 
 do? If I die while practicing like this then I'm ready. if I were to 
 die doing something bad that's no good, but to die practicing like 
 this I'm prepared."
    
    Don't follow your moods. Train yourself. The practice involves 
 putting your very life at stake. You must have cried at least two or 
 three times. That's right, that's the practice. If you're sleepy and 
 want to lie down then don't let it sleep. Make the sleepiness go 
 away before you lie down. But look at you all, you don't know how to 
 practice.
    
    Sometimes, when you come back from almsround and you're 
 contemplating the food before eating, you can't settle down, your 
 mind is like a mad dog. The saliva flows, you're so hungry. 
 Sometimes you may not even bother to contemplate, you just dig in. 
 That's a disaster. If the mind won't calm down and be patient then 
 just push your bowl away and don't eat. Train yourself, drill 
 yourself, that's practice. Don't just keep on following your mind. 
 Push your bowl away, get up and leave, don't allow yourself to eat. 
 If it really wants to eat so much and acts so stubborn then don't 
 let it eat. The saliva will stop flowing. If the defilements know 
 that they won't get anything to eat they'll get scared. They won't 
 dare bother you next day, they'll be afraid they won't get anything 
 to eat. Try it out if you don't believe me.
    
    People don't trust the practice, they don't dare to really do it. 
 They're afraid they'll go hungry, afraid they'll die. If you don't 
 try it out you won't know what it's about. Most of us don't dare to 
 do it, don't dare to try it out, we're afraid.
    
    When it comes to eating and the like I've suffered over them for 
 a long time now so I know what they're about. And that's only a 
 minor thing as well. So this practice is not something one can study 
 easily.
    
    Consider: What is the most important thing of all? There's 
 nothing else, just death. Death is the most important thing in the 
 world. Consider, practice, inquire...If you don't have clothing you 
 won't die. If you don't have betel nut to chew or cigarettes to 
 smoke you still won't die. But if you don't have rice or water, then 
 you will die. I see only these two things as being essential in this 
 world. You need rice and water to nourish the body. So I wasn't 
 interested in anything else, I just contented myself with whatever 
 was offered. As long as I had rice and water it was enough to 
 practice with, I was content.
    
    Is that enough for you? All those other things are extras, 
 whether you get them or not doesn't matter, the only really 
 important things are rice and water.
    
    "If I live like this can I survive?" I asked myself, "There's 
 enough to get by on all right. I can probably get at least rice on 
 almsround in just about any village, a mouthful from each house. 
 Water is usually available. Just these two are enough..." I didn't 
 aim to be particularly rich.
    
    In regards to the practice, right and wrong are usually 
 co-existent. You must dare to do it, dare to practice. If you've 
 never been to a charnel ground you should train yourself to go. If 
 you can't go at night then go during the day. Then train yourself to 
 go later and later until you can go at dusk and stay there. Then you 
 will see the effects of the practice, then you will understand.
    
    This mind has been deluded now for who knows how many lifetimes. 
 Whatever we don't like or love we want to avoid, we just indulge in 
 our fears. And then we say we're practicing. This can't be called 
 "practice." If it's real practice you'll even risk your life. If 
 you've really made up your mind to practice why would you take an 
 interest in petty concerns?..."I only got a little, you got a lot." 
 "You quarreled with me so I'm quarreling with you..." I had none of 
 these thoughts because I wasn't looking for such things. Whatever 
 others did was their business. Going to other monasteries I didn't 
 get involved in such things. However high or low others practiced I 
 wouldn't take any interest, I just looked after my own business. And 
 so I dared to practice, and the practice gave rise to wisdom and 
 insight. 
    
    If your practice has really hit the spot then you really 
 practice. Day or night you practice. At night, when it's quiet, I'd 
 sit in meditation, then come down to walk, alternating back and 
 forth like this at least two or three times a night. Walk, then sit, 
 then walk some more...I wasn't bored, I enjoyed it.
    
    Sometimes it'd be raining softly and I'd think of the times I 
 used to work the rice paddies. My pants would still be wet from the 
 day before but I'd have to get up before dawn and put them on again. 
 Then I'd have to go down to below the house to get the buffalo out 
 of its pen. All I could see of the buffalo would be covered in 
 buffalo shit. Then the buffalo's tail would be sore with athlete's 
 foot and I'd walk along thinking, "Why is life so miserable?" And 
 now here I was walking meditation...what was a little bit of rain to 
 me? Thinking like this I encouraged myself in the practice.
    
    If the practice has entered the stream then there's nothing to 
 compare with it. There's no suffering like the suffering of a Dhamma 
 cultivator and there's no happiness like the happiness of one 
 either. There's no zeal to compare with the zeal of the cultivator 
 and there's no laziness to compare with them either. Practicers of 
 the Dhamma are tops. That's why I say if you really practice it's a 
 sight to see.
    
    But most of us just talk about practice without having done it or 
 reached it. Our practice is like the man whose roof is leaking on 
 one side so he sleeps on the other side of the house. When the 
 sunshine comes in on that side he rolls over to the other side, all 
 the time thinking, "When will I ever get a decent house like 
 everyone else?" If the whole roof leaks then he just gets up and 
 leaves. This is not the way to do things, but that's how most people 
 are.
    
    This mind of ours, these defilements...if you follow them they'll 
 cause trouble. The more you follow them the more the practice 
 degenerates. With the real practice sometimes you even amaze 
 yourself with your zeal. Whether other people practice or not, don't 
 take any interest, simply do your own practice consistently. Whoever 
 comes or goes it doesn't matter, just do the practice. You must look 
 at yourself before it can be called "practice." When you really 
 practice there are no conflicts in your mind, there is only Dhamma.
    
    Wherever you are still inept, wherever you are still lacking, 
 that's where you must apply yourself. If you haven't yet cracked it 
 don't give up. Having finished with one thing you get stuck on 
 another, so persist with it until you crack it, don't let up. Don't 
 be content until it's finished. Put all your attention on that 
 point. While sitting, lying down or walking, watch right there.
    
    It's just like a farmer who hasn't yet finished his fields. Every 
 year he plants rice but this year he still hasn't gotten it 
 finished, so his mind is stuck on that, he can't rest content. His 
 work is still unfinished. Even when he's with friends he can't 
 relax, he's all the time nagged by his unfinished business. Or like 
 a mother who leaves her baby upstairs in the house while she goes to 
 feed the animals below: she's always got her baby in mind, lest it 
 should fall from the house. Even though she may do other things, her 
 baby is never far from her thoughts.
    
    It's just the same for us and our practice -- we never forget it. 
 Even though we may do other things our practice is never far from 
 our thoughts, it's constantly with us, day and night. It has to be 
 like this if you are really going to make progress.
    
    In the beginning you must rely on a teacher to instruct and 
 advise you. When you understand, then practice. When the teacher has 
 instructed you follow the instructions. If you understand the 
 practice it's no longer necessary for the teacher to teach you, just 
 do the work yourselves. Whenever heedlessness or unwholesome 
 qualities arise know for yourself, teach yourself. Do the practice 
 yourself. The mind is the one who knows, the witness. The mind knows 
 for itself if you are still very deluded or only a little deluded. 
 Wherever you are still faulty try to practice right at that point, 
 apply yourself to it. 
    
    Practice is like that. It's almost like being crazy, or you could 
 even say you are crazy. When you really practice you are crazy, you 
 "flip." You have distorted perception and then you adjust your 
 perception. If you don't adjust it, it's going to be just as 
 troublesome and just as wretched as before.
    
    So there's a lot of suffering in the practice, but if you don't 
 know your own suffering you won't understand the Noble Truth of 
 Suffering. To understand suffering, to kill it off, you first have 
 to encounter it. If you want to shoot a bird but don't go out and 
 find it how will you ever to shoot it? Suffering, suffering...the 
 Buddha taught about suffering: The suffering of birth, the suffering 
 you won't see suffering. If you don't understand suffering you won't 
 be able to get rid of suffering.
    
    Now people don't want to see suffering, they don't want to 
 experience it. If they suffer here they run over there. You see? 
 They're simply dragging their suffering around with them, they never 
 kill it. They don't contemplate or investigate it. If they feel 
 suffering here they run over there; if it arises there they run back 
 here. They try to run away from suffering physically. As long as you 
 are still ignorant, wherever you go you'll find suffering. Even if 
 you boarded an airplane to get away from it, it would board the 
 plane with you. If you dived under the water it would dive in with 
 you, because suffering lies within us. But we don't know that. If it 
 lies within us where can we run to escape it?
    
    People have suffering in one place so they go somewhere else. 
 When suffering arises there they run off again. They think they're 
 running away from suffering but they're not, suffering goes with 
 them. They carry suffering around without knowing it. If we don't 
 know the cause of suffering then we can't know the cessation of 
 suffering, there's no way we can escape it.
    
    You must look into this intently until you're beyond doubt. You 
 must dare to practice. Don't shirk it, either in a group or alone. 
 If others are lazy it doesn't matter. Whoever does a lot of walking 
 meditation, a lot of practice...I guarantee results. If you really 
 practice consistently, whether others come or go or whatever, one 
 rains retreat is enough. Do it like I've been telling you here. 
 Listen to the teacher's words, don't quibble, don't be stubborn. 
 Whatever he tells you to do go right ahead and do it. You needn't be 
 timid of the practice, knowledge will surely arise from it.
    
    Practice is also //patipada//. What is //patipada//? Practice 
 evenly, consistently. Don't practice like Old Reverend Peh. One 
 Rains Retreat he determined to stop talking. He stopped talking all 
 right but then he started writing notes..."Tomorrow please toast me 
 some rice." He wanted to eat toasted rice! He stopped talking but 
 ended up writing so many notes that he was even more scattered than 
 before. One minute he'd write one thing, the next another, what a 
 farce!
    
    I don't know why he bothered determining not to talk. He didn't 
 know what practice is.
    
    Actually our practice is to be content with little, to just be 
 natural. Don't worry whether you feel lazy or diligent. Don't even 
 say "I'm diligent" or "I'm lazy." Most people practice only when 
 they feel diligent, if they feel lazy they don't bother. This is how 
 people usually are. But monks shouldn't think like that. If you are 
 diligent you practice, when you are lazy you still practice. Don't 
 bother with other things, cut them off, throw them out, train 
 yourself. Practice consistently, whether day or night, this year, 
 next year, whatever the time...don't pay attention to thoughts of 
 diligence or laziness, don't worry whether it's hot or cold, just do 
 it. This is called //sammapatipada// -- Right Practice.
    
    Some people really apply themselves to the practice for six or 
 seven days, then, when they don't get the results they wanted, give 
 it up and revert completely, indulging in chatter, socializing and 
 whatever. Then they remember the practice and go at it for another 
 six or seven days, then give it up again...It's like the way some 
 people work. At first they throw themselves into it...then, when 
 they stop, they don't even bother picking up their tools, they just 
 walk off and leave them there. Later on, when the soil has all caked 
 up, they remember their work and do a bit more, only to leave it 
 again.
    
    Doing things this way you'll never get a decent garden or paddy. 
 Our practice is the same. If you think this //patipada// is 
 unimportant you won't get anywhere with the practice. 
 //Sammapatipada// is unquestionably important. Do it constantly. 
 Don't listen to your moods. So what if your mood is good or not? The 
 Buddha didn't bother with those things. He had experienced all the 
 good things and bad things, the right things and wrong things. That 
 was his practice. Taking only what you like and discarding whatever 
 you don't like isn't practice, it's disaster. Wherever you go you 
 will never be satisfied, wherever you stay there will be suffering.
    
    Practicing like this is like the Brahmans making their 
 sacrifices. Why do they do it? Because they want something in 
 exchange. Some of us practice like this. Why do we practice? Because 
 we seek re-birth, another state of being, we want to attain 
 something. If we don't get what we want then we don't want to 
 practice, just like the Brahmans making their sacrifices. They do so 
 because of desire.
    
    The Buddha didn't teach like that. The cultivation of the 
 practice is for giving up, for letting go, for stopping, for 
 uprooting. You don't do it for re-birth into any particular state.
    
    There was once a Thera who had initially gone forth into the 
 Mahanikai sect. But he found it not strict enough so he took 
 Dhammayuttika ordination. [*] Then he started practicing. Sometimes 
 he would fast for fifteen days, then when he ate he'd eat only 
 leaves and grass. He thought that eating animals was bad //kamma//, 
 that it would be better to eat leaves and grass.
    
 * [Mahanikai and Dhammayuttika are the two sects of Theravada sangha 
 in Thailand.]
 
 
    After a while..."Hmm. Being a monk is not so good, it's 
 inconvenient. It's hard to maintain my vegetarian practice as a 
 monk. Maybe I'll disrobe and become a //pa-kow//." So he disrobed 
 and became a pa-kow so that he could gather the leaves and grass for 
 himself and dig for roots and yams. He carried on like that for a 
 while till in the end he didn't know what he should be doing. He 
 gave it all up. He gave up being a monk, gave up being a //pa-kow//, 
 gave up everything. These days I don't know what he's doing. Maybe 
 he's dead, I don't know. This is because he couldn't find anything 
 to suit his mind. He didn't realize that he was simply following 
 defilements. The defilements were leading him on but he didn't know 
 it.
    
    "Did the Buddha disrobe and become a //pa-kow//? How did the 
 Buddha practice? What did he do?" He didn't consider this. Did the 
 Buddha go and eat leaves and grass like a cow? Sure, if you want to 
 eat like that go ahead, if that's all you can manage, but don't go 
 round criticizing others. Whatever standard of practice you find 
 suitable then persevere with that. "Don't gouge or carve too much or 
 you won't have a decent handle." [*] You'll be left with nothing and 
 in the end just give up.
 
 * [A Thai expression meaning, "Don't overdo it."]
 
 
    Some people are like this. When it comes to walking meditation 
 they really go at it for fifteen days or so. They don't even bother 
 eating, just walk. Then when they finish that they just lie around 
 and sleep. They don't bother considering carefully before they start 
 to practice. In the end nothing suits them. Being a monk doesn't 
 suit them, being a //pa-kow// doesn't suit them...so they end up 
 with nothing.
    
    People like this don't know practice, they don't look into the 
 reasons for practicing. Think about what you're practicing for. They 
 teach this practice for throwing off. The mind wants to love this 
 person and hate that person...these things may arise but don't take 
 them for real. So what are we practicing for? Simply so that we can 
 give up these very things. Even if you attain peace, throw out the 
 peace. If knowledge arises, throw out the knowledge. If you know 
 then you know, but if you take that knowing to be your own then you 
 think you know something. Then you think you are better than others. 
 After a while you can't live anywhere, wherever you live problems 
 arise. If you practice wrongly it's just as if you didn't practice 
 at all.
    
    Practice according to your capacity. Do you sleep a lot? Then try 
 going against the grain. Do you eat a lot? Then try eating less. 
 Take as much practice as you need, using //sila//, //samadhi// and 
 //panna// as your basis. Then throw in the //dhutanga// practices 
 also. These //dhutanga// [*] practices are for digging into the 
 defilements. You may find the basic practices still not enough to 
 really uproot the defilements, so you have to incorporate the 
 //dhutanga// practices as well.
 
 * [Thirteen practices allowed by the Buddha over and above the 
 general disciplinary code, for those who which to practice more 
 ascetically.]
 
 
    These //dhutanga// practices are really useful. Some people can't 
 kill off the defilements with basic //sila// and //samadhi//, they 
 have to bring in the //dhutanga// practices to help out. The 
 //dhutanga// practices cut off many things. Living at the foot of a 
 tree...Living at the foot of a tree isn't against the precepts. But 
 if you determine the //dhutanga// practice of living in a charnel 
 ground and then don't do it, that's wrong. Try it out. What's like 
 to live in a charnel ground? Is it the same as living in a group?
    
    //DHU-TAN-GA//: This translates as "the practices which are hard 
 to do." These are the practices of the Noble Ones. Whoever wants to 
 be a Noble One must use the //dhutanga// practices to cut the 
 defilements. It's difficult to observe them and it's hard to find 
 people with the commitment to practice them, because they go against 
 the grain.
    
    Such as with robes; they say to limit your robes to the basic 
 three robes; to maintain yourself on almsfood; to eat only in the 
 bowl; to eat only what you get on almsround, if anyone brings food 
 to offer afterwards you don't accept it.
    
    Keeping this last practice in central Thailand is easy, the food 
 is quite adequate, because there they put a lot of food in your 
 bowl. But when you come to the Northeast here this //dhutanga// 
 takes on subtle nuances -- here you get plain rice! In these parts 
 the tradition is to put only plain rice in the almsbowl. In central 
 Thailand they give rice and other foods also, but around these parts 
 you get only plain rice. This //dhutanga// practice becomes really 
 ascetic. You eat only plain rice, whatever is brought to offer 
 afterwards you don't accept. Then there is eating once a day, at one 
 sitting, from only one bowl -- when you've finished eating you get 
 up from your seat and don't eat again that day.
    
    These are called //dhutanga// practices. Now who will practice 
 them? It's hard these days to find people with enough commitment to 
 practice them because they are demanding, but that is why they are 
 so beneficial.
    
    What people call practice these days is not really practice. If 
 you really practice it's no easy matter. Most people don't dare to 
 really practice, don't dare to really go against the grain. They 
 don't want to do anything which runs contrary to their feelings. 
 People don't want to resist the defilements, they don't want to dig 
 at them or get rid of them.
    
    In our practice they say not to follow your own moods. Consider: 
 we have been fooled for countless lifetimes already into believing 
 that the mind is our own. Actually it isn't, it's just an impostor. 
 It drags us into greed, drags us into aversion, drags us into 
 delusion, drags us into theft, plunder, desire and hatred. These 
 things aren't ours. Just ask yourself right now: do you want to be 
 good? Everybody wants to be good. Now doing all these things, is 
 that good? There! People commit malicious acts and yet they want to 
 be good. That's why I say these things are tricksters, that's all 
 they are.
    
    The Buddha didn't want us to follow this mind, he wanted us to 
 train it. If it goes one way then take cover another way. When it 
 goes over there then take cover back here. To put it simply: 
 whatever the mind wants, don't let it have it. It's as if we've been 
 friends for years but we finally reach a point where our ideas are 
 no longer the same. We split up and go our separate ways. We no 
 longer understand each other, in fact we even argue, so we break up. 
 That's right, don't follow your own mind. Whoever follows his own 
 mind, follows its likes and desires and everything else, that person 
 hasn't yet practiced at all.
    
    This is why I say that what people call practice is not really 
 practice...it's disaster. if you don't stop and take a look, don't 
 try the practice, you won't see, you won't attain the Dhamma. To put 
 it straight, in our practice you have to commit your very life. It's 
 not that it isn't difficult, this practice, it has to entail some 
 suffering. Especially in the first year or two, there's a lot of 
 suffering. The young monks and novices really have a hard time.
    
    I've had a lot of difficulties in the past, especially with food. 
 What can you expect? Becoming a monk at twenty when you are just 
 getting into your food and sleep...some days I would sit alone and 
 just dream of food. I'd want to eat bananas in syrup, or papaya 
 salad, and my saliva would start to run. This is part of the 
 training. All these things are not easy. This business of food and 
 eating can lead one into a lot of bad //kamma//. Take someone who's 
 just growing up, just getting into his food and sleep, and constrain 
 him in these robes and his feelings run amok. It's like damming a 
 flowing torrent, sometimes the dam just breaks. If it survives 
 that's fine, but if not it just collapses.
    
    My meditation in the first year was nothing else, just food. I 
 was so restless...Sometimes I would sit there and it was almost as 
 if I was actually popping bananas into my mouth. I could almost feel 
 myself breaking the bananas into pieces and putting them in my 
 mouth. And this is all part of the practice. 
    
    So don't be afraid of it. We've all been deluded for countless 
 lifetimes now so coming to train ourselves, to correct ourselves, is 
 no easy matter. But if it's difficult it's worth doing. Why should 
 we bother with easy things? So those things that are difficult, 
 anybody can do the easy things. We should train ourselves to do that 
 which is difficult.
    
    It must have been the same for Buddha. If he had just worried 
 about his family and relatives, his wealth and his past sensual 
 pleasures, he'd never have become the Buddha. These aren't trifling 
 matters, either, they're just what most people are looking for. So 
 going forth at an early age and giving up these things is just like 
 dying. And yet some people come up and say, "Oh, it's easy for you, 
 Luang Por. You never had a wife and children to worry about, so it's 
 easier for you!" I say, "Don't get too close to me when you say that 
 or you'll get a clout over the head!"...as if I didn't have a heart 
 or something!
    
    When it comes to people it's no trifling matter. It's what life 
 is all about. So we Dhamma practicers should earnestly get into the 
 practice, really dare to do it. Don't believe others, just listen to 
 the Buddha's teaching. Establish peace in your hearts. In time you 
 will understand. Practice, reflect, contemplate, and the fruits of 
 the practice will be there. The cause and the result are 
 proportional.
    
    Don't give in to your moods. In the beginning even finding the 
 right amount of sleep is difficult. You may determine to sleep a 
 certain time but can't manage it. You must train yourself. Whatever 
 time you decide to get up, then get up as soon as it comes round. 
 Sometimes you can do it, but sometimes as soon as you awake you say 
 to yourself "get up!" and it won't budge! You may have to say to 
 yourself, "One...Two...if I reach the count three and still don't 
 get up may I fall into hell!" You have to teach yourself like this. 
 When you get to three you'll get up immediately, you'll be afraid of 
 falling into hell.
    
    You must train yourself, you can't dispense with the training. 
 You must train yourself from all angles. Don't just lean on your 
 teacher, your friends or the group all the time or you'll never 
 become wise. It's not necessary to hear so much instruction, just 
 hear the teaching once or twice and then do it. 
    
    The well trained mind won't dare cause trouble, even in private. 
 In the mind of the adept there is no such thing as "private" or "in 
 public." All Noble Ones have confidence in their own hearts. We 
 should be like this.
    
    Some people become monks simply to find an easy life. Where does 
 ease come from? What is its cause? All ease has to be preceded by 
 suffering. In all things it's the same: you must work before you get 
 rice. In all things you must first experience difficulty. Some 
 people become monks in order to rest and take it easy, they say they 
 just want to sit around and rest awhile. If you don't study the 
 books do you expect to be able to read and write? It can't be done.
    
    This is why most people who have studied a lot and become monks 
 never get anywhere. Their knowledge is of a different kind, on a 
 different path. They don't train themselves, they don't look at 
 their minds. They only stir up their minds with confusion, seeking 
 things which are not conducive to calm and restraint. The knowledge 
 of the Buddha is not worldly knowledge, it is supramundane 
 knowledge, a different way altogether.
    
    This is why whoever goes forth into the Buddhist monkhood must 
 give up whatever level or status or position they have held 
 previously. Even when a king goes forth he must relinquish his 
 previous status, he doesn't bring that worldly stuff into the 
 monkhood with him to throw his weight around with. He doesn't bring 
 his wealth, status, knowledge or power into the monkhood with him. 
 The practice concerns giving up, letting go, uprooting, stopping. 
 You must understand this in order to make the practice work.
    
    If you are sick and don't treat the illness with medicine do you 
 think the illness will cure itself? Wherever you are afraid you 
 should go. Wherever there is a cemetery or charnel ground which is 
 particularly fearsome, go there. Put on your robes, go there and 
 contemplate, //Anicca vata sankhara//... [*] Stand and walk 
 meditation there, look inward and see where your fear lies. It will 
 be all too obvious. Understand the truth of all conditioned things. 
 Stay there and watch until dusk falls and it gets darker and darker, 
 until you are even able to stay there all night.
 
 * [Part of a Pali verse, traditionally recited at funeral 
 ceremonies. The meaning of the full verse if, "Alas, transient are 
 all compounded things/Having arisen, they cease/Being born, they 
 die/The cessation of all compounding is true happiness."]
 
 
    The Buddha said, "Whoever sees the Dhamma sees the //Tathagata//. 
 Whoever sees the //Tathagata// sees //Nibbana//." If we don't follow 
 his example how will we see the Dhamma? If we don't see the Dhamma 
 how will we know the Buddha? If we don't see the Buddha how will we 
 know the qualities of the Buddha? Only if we practice in the 
 footsteps of the Buddha will we know that what the Buddha taught is 
 utterly certain, that the Buddha's teaching is the supreme truth.
    
                                        
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