Let What You Are Afraid of Be Your Trainer and
Teacher
Extract from biography of Venerable Phra
Acharn Mun
Compiled by Ven. Phra Acharn Maha Boowa
Nyanasampanno
The Venerable Acharn's help to his
disciples was not limited by time and place. It depended on when
his help was needed for a particular case at a particular
time.
He once spoke
frankly to a disciple, saying, 'You had better go and meditate in
that cave. It will be better than staying here. You require strong
treatment. There is a tiger in that cave that will give you the
kind of treatment needed by such a stubborn bhikkhu as you. With
the tiger as your instructor, you might be able to learn something
more. You are afraid of tigers, so you must welcome him as your
trainer and teacher. One who is afraid of ghosts must also accept
them as his trainers. This is the right way of
self-training.'
That bhikkhu had
been known as a 'tough guy' when he was a layman. He was bold and
frank and rather stubborn. Having been given this 'strong'
treatment, he decided to do as he was told, reasoning to himself
that that Venerable Acharn would not send him to his
death.
'Come what may,
I must go,' he said to himself, 'for then I'll be able to see the
truth of the Venerable Acharn's words. It's known that the
Venerable Acharn never says anything without careful thought. His
"words always carry some hidden meaning. He has shown that he knows
our thoughts very well. He must also know what will happen to me in
that cave, otherwise he would not have told me to go there. I'm
going to go. If I die there, well, it's time for me to die. But if
I don't die, I may realize something which is unknown to me now. He
has given me a hint. Now I'm going to do what he has told me to
do.'
Having made up
his mind, he dressed himself fully [in all his robes] and
approached the Venerable Acharn to take leave of him.
'Where are you
going?' the Venerable Acharn asked him.
'I'm going to
meet my death in that cave!' that bhikkhu answered
outright.
'I didn't tell
you to go and die there! I told you to go there for the sake of
your mind-development';' the Venerable Acharn said.
'It's true that
you didn't tell me to go there to die, but I have learnt from
others that there is a large ferocious tiger living in a cave not
far from the one to which I am going, and that my cave is on the
path it takes to and from its cave every day. That tiger has also
been in and out of my cave. I am afraid that it may really kill me.
That's why I answered you the way I did.'
The Venerable
Acharn then asked him why, despite the fact that so many bhikkhus
had stayed in that cave, no one had ever been bothered by the
tiger. "Do you think that tiger will find your flesh to be more
delectable than those others will?' he asked. The mind is a clever
magician. It is full of tricks and guiles to lure or frighten an
aspirant away from his goal. Without sincere and ruthless
self-criticism an aspirant would never be able to discipline or
develop his mind. 'This is only at the outset,' he warned that
bhikkhu, 'and you have already been hypnotized by the whispers of
defilements. Do you think you can survive this ordeal with this?
You haven't even encountered death yet, so why are you afraid of
it? I will tell you the truth. It is birth which is the original
cause of death. Why aren't you afraid of birth? Everyone craves
endless births, despite the face that one birth is enough to
produce untold suffering. Were one man able to branch out like
bamboo, he would be more than happy to do so without even thinking
of death, which surely would bring about fear capable of consuming
him a hundred times over.
'You are a
practicing Buddhist! Why should you be so afraid of death, perhaps
even more so than an untrained layman? Why do you succumb to the
attack of defilements so easily until you are now at your wit’s
end? You have your mindfulness and wisdom! Why don't you make use
of them and silence the whispers and threats of the defilements so
that their tricks and guiles may be uncovered?
'Only on the
battlefield can the warrior's victory be won. If you are afraid of
death, it's no use going to war. It's only through fearlessly
facing death that victory can be won. If' you genuinely hope for
the Cessation of Suffering, you must know that fear of death is a
kind of suffering which you impose on yourself, and you must rid
yourself of it on the battlefield where you will be able to see the
evil of your self-imposed suffering. This is far better than
surrendering yourself to the whisper of the defilements and being
under its yoke for eternity.
'Just make up
your mind what you will choose to believe: the dharma and the
instruction of your Acharn, or the whisper of the defilement’s that
tigers are everywhere just waiting to make a meal of you. I
instructed and disciplined myself in this way with the result that
is evident to you now. May you make the correct choice for
yourself.'
That bhikkhu's
mind seemed to be relieved of its burden and filled with ecstasy at
the Venerable Acharn's frank and straightforward instruction. He
prostrated himself before the. Venerable Acharn, and, having taken
leave of him, delightedly set out for the cave.
Still ecstatic,
he arrived at the cave, and, having put down his requisites, he
looked around to see where he could take shelter for the night. In
a flash his eyes began to play tricks on him. He caught sight of
the tiger's paw marks at the mouth of the cave, and then there was
a whispering in his ear, 'There is a tiger living here!' The
defilements then took possession of him and he felt as if he were
being overwhelmed by the madness of fear. Gone were the ecstasy and
courage obtained from the Venerable Acharn's instruction. What
filled him now was chilling fear, which was overwhelming and which
resisted all efforts to neutralize its power. He tried to reduce it
by erasing the paw marks, but the fear was still there—it was in
his mind, not in the paw marks. Fear stubbornly attached itself to
his mind.
Throughout that
night and all the next day he was plagued with this 'unsolvable'
problem of fear. With the coming of night once again, his fear
increased and it seemed that that place was literally alive with
tigers. He was then consumed by the chill fever characteristic of
malaria which added physical suffering to the mental and made that
place a real hell on earth for him. But he was, after all, to be
praised because he did not give up his effort, despite repeated
failure and disappointment.
He kept on
fighting against his own fear by various means while suffering
intensely from fever symptoms. Whenever he recalled the Venerable
Acharn's instructions he was for a time encouraged, and fear
subsided. When the fear later increased in. its intensity he was
emboldened in facing danger and death.
'I made up my
mind before coming here,' he said to himself,' 'and I told the
Venerable Acharn that I came here to die. I came here filled with
courage and ecstasy, but what am I doing now? It's shameful to be
so overwhelmed by fear like this! It is my own mind that urged me
to come here, and it is this very same mind which is now playing
tricks on me, driving me mad with fear. What is it all about? Am I
not the same man? Have I been turned into a cowardly animal? I had
better make up my mind now: should I sit meditating on the edge of
the precipice so that without presence of mind I might fall and
perish below? In that case there would be but vultures and crows to
finish up my remains, with no trouble for any human beings to
cremate the corpse. Or should I meditate on the tiger's pathway?
That would save it the trouble of having to look for me when it
returns.'
Having thought
about this in this way, he came out of his ‘mosquito net and stood
in front of the cave making up his mind. He finally decided to sit
on the edge of the precipice so that a split second without
mindfulness would send him into the abyss to be a feast for the
vultures and crows. He sat facing the lowlands, his back towards to
tiger's pathway, reciting the word Buddha with the thought in the
back of his mind that a split second without mindfulness would send
him to his death. All this time he contemplated whether he was more
afraid of falling over the cliff or being eaten by the tiger, and
he came to realize that he was more afraid of falling to his death
[which was more immediate and therefore more threatening] than
being eaten by the tiger.
It was long
after he had begun this resolute self-discipline that his mind
abruptly withdrew into the profound, unshakable condition of
meditation [appana samadhi] and was thereafter oblivious to all
circumstances. Gone were worry and fear. What remained was the mind
that was wonderfully able to hold its own. This complete withdrawal
lasted twelve hours, from ten o'clock in the evening until ten
o'clock the following morning, when he emerged from his meditation.
There was no need to go for alms food that day or to partake of any
meal. The results of his meditation were more wonderful than he
could have dreamed of. There was no longer any trace or tinge of
fear, nor were there any symptoms of fever He felt more courageous
and self-confident than ever. It now appeared that the effects of
the dharma were both therapeutical and psychological, curing both
diseases of body and mind. From then on he felt himself able stay
or go anywhere, without having to carry fear along with him. He
cared little about the tiger, except that should it actually come
it would be an opportunity to test his strength of will.
He always
thought of the Venerable Acharn's instruction with gratitude and
reverence, having realized how that instruction was wonderfully
true and beneficial to him. He now knew the trick of how to train
and tame his own mind and always resorted to making use of fear to
overcome fear.
He chose to
remain in that cave for a longer time, choosing the most dangerous
locations as places suitable for his meditation practice. These
included the mouth of the cave the tiger lived in or on the path
which the tiger used every day. While sitting in meditation, he did
not sit under his mosquito net since he was afraid that within it
he might indulge himself in over-confidence, and not be afraid of
the tiger.
One night his
mind refused to withdraw into the profound stale of meditation, no
matter how long or how hard he tried. He then thought of the tiger
which frequented the place, asking himself where it was at that
moment, for it should have been there to help him in his meditation
practice, which, in fact, was by no means difficult if properly
aroused. About half an hour after this thought had passed through
.his mind, he heard the sounds of the tiger's approach from behind
him.' Hearing this he warned himself that danger was now
approaching and that it was now time to seek the shelter of
one-pointedness. Once lie visualized himself being grappled by the
neck by the tiger, his mind suddenly withdrew into one-pointedness
with nothing remaining but the unshakable and indescribable peace
of one-ness. He retired into the seclusion of the mind from about
two o'clock in the morning until about ten o'clock, and, as before,
he felt no need for going out for alms-food or for having a meal. "
It should be noted here that while the mind is in the state of
complete withdrawal at the so-called basis of meditation, the body
no longer responds to, nor is aware of, the external environment.
This was also the experience of this bhikkhu since his mind always
abruptly retired into that state whenever aroused by external
circumstances.
After emerging
from his meditation, he went to the place where he had heard the
sounds of his 'friend' and clearly saw his paw marks only about
four meters away from where he was sitting. Strangely enough, the
tiger had gone straight to its cave without showing any interest in
his 'friend' sitting not far away.
That bhikkhu
later related that, 'It is very difficult to train a mind without
any pressure or force to tame it. A moment of danger is often
helpful in making it retire into seclusion within split seconds.
This is why I always prefer a dangerous place to an ordinary cave
or forest. Wherever there are tigers, it is better for me to be
there. After all, my character is still crude and that's why gentle
means are never enough to tame my mind.
'There were also
side effects,' he continued. 'Besides the bliss and peace obtained
within that cave, there was communication with the terrestrial
angels and also something like insight into the future as far as
the dead were concerned. I appeared suddenly to be able to know
whenever someone died in the village not far away, and everything
that knowledge foretold proved to be correct. The cave where I was
staying was about eight kilometers away from the nearest village
and every time this knowledge occurred to me, I was later requested
by the villagers to perform the rites for the deceased in their
village. Despite my refusal, they always insisted, saying that a
bhikkhu in that forest area was so rare, and they begged me
earnestly to have mercy on them. I could do nothing but comply with
their requests, which meant walking the long distance to the
village and back. Even during periods of fasting, when I did not
want anything to interrupt my exertion, similar incidents still
occurred and similar forest trips had to be undertaken.'
Mend tiger
contributed much to the strength of will of this bhikkhu. Every two
or three nights it would leave the cave to find food, but
strangely, it still took no interest in this bhikkhu despite the
fact that it had to pass by him every time it left and returned.
From that time onwards he always preferred to meditate in whatever
dangerous place he was able to find, all the time living a solitary
life
This is the
story of a steadfast and dedicated man who subjected his mind to
self-discipline and was able to take advantage of his own fear.
Most interesting is how he changed the tiger, which should have
been his dreaded enemy, into a friend who helped to develop his
strength of will and determination.