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 pindapáta 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 vihára 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 viháras: 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 jhána 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 jhána-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 jhánas 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 jhánas 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 (vipassaná), which grows into wisdom (paññá) 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). Nibbána 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 vihára 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 vihára, 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 sálá. 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 sálá 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 sálá 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 sálá 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 sálá 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 viháras 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 vihára 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 vihára but they set off at a good pace.

 

On arriving at the sálá 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 viháras. 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 sálá 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 vihára 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 vihára 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 vihára, are respectful, then everyone else will be so and the vihára 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 vihára 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 viháras 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 vihára, 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 sálá 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 sálá has been cleaned until about three in the afternoon. This is a quiet time in the vihára and few Bhikkhus can be seen then. There will be one or two samaneras staying under the sálá 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 sálá and they will then be dried. Meanwhile up in the sálá, 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 vihára 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 sálá 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 vihára. 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 vihára 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 Parivára, 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 vihára, round about each kuti, the winding paths and the open space about the sálá may take an hour to sweep.

 

As sweeping raises dust, the open-sided sálá 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 vihára 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-sálá, 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 sálá. This is true for every day of the year in the more remote viháras. 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 viháras 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 viháras 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 vihára 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 vihára has to clean his own kuti and sweep all the vihára 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 Nibbána. But his aloneness is not that of the misanthrope, for part of his practice is developing mettá 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.

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