022 The Dhutanga Observances

2. Refusing food offered later. Food put in the alms-bowl, be it little or much, is appropriate for those who intend to train themselves in contentment. There is no need to accept more which is offered later, that is, any food which is offered after a bhikkhu has returned from his alms-round in a village. Accepting such food would be surrendering to self-indulgence, a habit increasingly difficult to overcome. To be content with whatever food is put into the alms-bowl is the purpose of this practice, whereas to covet more is the characteristic of a demon or a hungry ghost which is consumed by its own insatiable desire, struggling only to feed its mouth at the expense of its mind. This dhutanga observance serves to curb the insatiable greed for food and also to promote contentment as far as food is concerned.

3. Having one meal a day. This is most appropriate for a dhutanga bhikkhu who concentrates on mind-development and who must unload himself as much as possible from the burden of food. It automatically rids him of the expectation for more tasty food, which is but to feed and please the body and which impairs the dignity of one whose quest is the Cessation of Suffering. Sometimes it is even necessary to reduce the amount of food intake in that one meal so as to avoid overeating and the consequent sleepiness and sluggishness which invariably follow. This reduction is a boon to ordinary practice and is profitable to those who must be trained that way. This is another method by which to get rid of greed for food which is most undignified for a dhutanga bhikkhu.

    In worldly matters there are devices for the removal of a harmful or antagonistic force, be it a dog, a snake, a tiger, an elephant, a disease, or even a human being. In Buddhism there is likewise a method of eradication to be used by the dhutanga bhikkhu who is possessed by the detrimental force of coveting food. This observance is a means by which to counteract such an antagonistic force.

4. Eating food within an aim-bowl. A practice such as this is most suitable to a dhutanga bhikkhu who is always on the move, staying at any one place only temporarily. It relieves him of the burden of having to carry other utensils which would be both awkward and cumbersome, weighing him down physically and spiritually. Another advantage to such a practice is that the mixing of food in the bowl stimulates mindfulness-and-wisdom to actively function in contemplating the nature of food [its repulsiveness] and the purpose of eating.

    According to Phra Acharn Mun, a steadily deepening of truth was often realized by such contemplation and by the observance of this dhutanga and the other observances. This was why he always strictly observed these practices himself. Eating food mixed within the alms-bowl is therefore an effective self-restraint from the desire to please the palate. While eating, contemplation is directed at the nature of food [its repulsiveness] and to the purpose of eating, which is only to sustain life, not to be overcome by attachment or aversion to food which is either pleasing or not. This contemplation serves to make the mind balanced, irrespective of the food eaten.

5. Wearing rag-robes. Phra Acharn Mun, who always curbed himself against taking delight in what was pleasing to the eye, made this practice one of his regular observances. He tried to collect pieces of discarded cloth in such places as cemeteries and sewed them up into a robe or into a piece of cloth which could be used for something else. He sometimes 'drew a robe'[16] placed on a corpse in a cemetery when such a robe was deliberately offered him by the owner of the corpse. While on his alms-round, going to and from a village, he made it a practice to pick up pieces of torn, discarded cloth on the side of the road, no matter what kind they were. He would later wash such pieces of cloth clean and use them for mending his robes or for something else. When his devotees afterwards learned of this practice, they would offer him robes by placing them in a cemetery which was on the way he would take on his alms-round, or around the area where he was dwelling. He later modified this practice to suit circumstances and he allowed himself to 'draw a robe' in a variety of localities. He kept this observance until the last day of his life.

    Phra Acharn Mun often said that bhikkhus who hope for inward peace must regard themselves as worthless rags [in the eyes of worldly men]. With such an attitude of mind they will not be troubled in eating, sleeping, and in associating with others. They do not inflate themselves with feelings of self-importance or with vanity, knowing that what makes a recluse of a man is his capacity for deflating his own ego, not his capacity to extol himself. This is morality, or rather maturity, which is to be expected of a recluse. An aspirant must keep a wary eye on the intrusion of vanity and not allow it to encroach upon the domain of dharma, otherwise he would deteriorate and become more like an animal than a human being. To subjugate the 'self' concept, treating it as though it were only pieces of rags and not allowing it to rear its head of vanity, is the criterion of progress in the dharma. Like the great wide earth, such a mind is unshakable and unmoved by circumstances. Having been purged of all kinds and all degrees of vanity and egotism, it is able to maintain its balance on all occasions. The dhutanga practice of wearing rag-robes is a means by which to reduce and remove the concept of 'self'.

6. Staying in the wilds. From the early days of his practice, the Venerable Acharn realized the great merit of staying in the wilds, by which he was blessed with peaceful seclusion. All around is the scenery which awakens heedfulness. While sitting, standing, walking, or lying down, mindfulness is always present with wisdom in contemplating the dharma, both internally and externally. This goes on continuously, except during sleep. Relief and buoyancy reign in every posture of the body. With no bondage or compulsion to weigh the mind down, the prospects for Deliverance appear increasingly brighter. The more desolate and distant the place is from human habitation, with wild beasts roaming freely about, the more prepared is the mind to soar up from the abyss of defilements, being at all times like a bird about to fly. The defilements are still there in the depths of the mind, but in such an environment the power of the mind is greatly developed and appears to have gotten rid of hundreds of defilements, with only few remaining. This is the influence of environment which gives encouragement to an aspirant at all times.

    Thoughts towards the animals there are grounded more in compassion than in fear. Like human beings, they all share the universal sufferings of birth, old age, illness, and death, but unlike man, they are incapable of realizing what is good and evil, what is meritorious and demeritorious. Thus a human being without such a realization would be no better than an animal. The term 'animal' is arbitrarily given by man and it is not known what name 'animals' give man. If any, it could perhaps be 'demon' or 'ogre' to fit the description which is based on the usual practice of indiscriminate killing, both for food and for fun. In fact, such an appellation is to a great extent befitting and reasonable since it is evident how many beings who call themselves 'human' are so unforgiving both to animals and to other human beings, and who often take to violence and killing, feeding the fires of danger and fear in both the society of men and that of animals. It is because of this that animals are instinctively suspicious of men.

    There seems to be an inexplicable bond of friendship between a dhutanga bhikkhu and the animals, even those beasts which are wild and which are supposed to be feared. One time, according to the Venerable Acharn, while he was engaged in walking meditation, he was confronted with a wild boar which happened to pass that way. Instead of being frightened or running away, the boar seemed to pay little attention to him and wandered about the area indifferently. Perhaps it was able to know that the Venerable Acharn was not an ogre after all.

    Here the writer would like to insert a similar account which happened in the Barn Tard Forest Hermitage in its early days when the area was newly constructed to make way in some places for bhikkhus' shelters.

    There were already several bhikkhus and samaneras living in the hermitage at that time but a band of wild boars could still be seen wandering around the bhikkhus' shelters, even sleeping there in indifference right in front of those shelters. They roamed about fearlessly just a few meters away from the tracks for walking meditation, being so close that they could be heard rooting around. At first some of the bhikkhus were puzzled by this and called their friends to come and see for themselves, but still the boars were unmoved, and before long neither the boars nor the bhikkhus paid any attention to each other, there being peace and comfort for all.

    Such incidents are rarely met with now since many 'ogres' have violated the law of live and let live and have slaughtered the boars whenever possible [possibly when the bhikkhus were away temporarily, or when the boars strayed into any of the nearby villages], and in a short time will never be met with again. This confirms the fact that animals prefer to seek refuge where bhikkhus dwell, even those in towns. Dogs, for example, are often seen in the hundreds in monasteries. They seem to know that they will not be harmed there [at least not by the bhikkhus, at any rate, although a temple boy or two may vent his spleen on these creatures]. This shows how the dharma always produces peace and harmlessness to all concerned, animals as well as human beings.

    According to the Venerable Acharn, staying in the wilds provides endless opportunities for contemplation of both external things and inner development. The mind is always bent on Deliverance and persistently exerts itself to attain to that Goal. This is the battleground for an aspirant to the Cessation of Suffering in accordance with the preliminary instruction given by the Preceptor to a new bhikkhu during his ordination ceremony.[17]

    The Venerable Acharn strictly observed this practice of staying in the wilds most of the time, except when he was bound to stay elsewhere [such as in a town for a brief period]. Staying in the wilds or forest areas one is constantly reminded of isolation and seclusion. There is little opportunity for self-complacency to insert itself. For an aspirant to the Cessation of Suffering, this is the well-spring of all virtues.

7. Staying under the shade of a tree. Like staying in the wilds, staying under the shade of a tree can offer many advantages. According to the Venerable Acharn, when his mind was delivered from all the Fetters of the World, it was during the night when he was seated under the branches of a lonely tree. This event will be related below. The writer begs the forgiveness of the readers in putting off this important account for the moment.

    The development of mindfulness is an advantage to be gained, from staying under the branches of a tree, where there is no enclosure nor any kind of protection to be expected. With mindfulness constantly being developed, the eradication of defilements is strengthened. The bases of mindfulness--body, sensation, conditions of mind, and phenomena--are excellent themes for safeguarding the aspirant and for the eradication of his defilements. The mind that is fixed upon the bases of mindfulness or the Noble Truths through the influence of seclusion or danger is one with the protective armor and defensive weapon in the noble battle for the sake of Deliverance. It is advisable, therefore, that an aspirant wishing to speed up his efforts should seek the shelter of a tree, which can greatly promote his advancement in the dharma.

8. Staying in a cemetery (the internal and external cemetery). A practice such as this is an excellent way of warning an aspirant against heedlessness or self-complacency. Most people pretend to avoid thinking of death, forgetting the fact that they are every moment in the process of dying. Just think how many people who had once been alive have been removed to various cemeteries! Those bodies which crowd the funeral pyres or which are in their graves had at one time been living people undergoing the irresistible process of dying, like ourselves. How, then, can we living people be exempted from this natural phenomena ? A visit to one's friends or relatives in a cemetery can therefore serve two functions: firstly, it reminds us of the deceased, and, secondly, with such a reminder we shall bring ourselves to compare ourselves with them and then realize the phenomena we are moving towards without any power of resistance.

    A bhikkhu is a living symbol of the noble struggle for Deliverance. It is necessary that he study the Cycle of Births and Deaths, both external and internal. Externally he can refer to the places where corpses are buried, burnt or thrown to animals, whereas internally he is advised to contemplate his own body, which is composed of an uncountable number of animals stuffed in it each day. Such contemplation, when properly guided by wisdom, can lead to sanvega (see note 12 Text 14) and insight. Thus, an aspirant, be he a bhikkhu or a lay disciple, who prefers to visit cemeteries, both external and internal, with the recollection of death as the fundamental theme of his contemplation, is sure to reduce pride in life, youth, health, social status, ranks, titles, etc. Such a one is not overcome by vanity or self-importance, being inclined to see his own faults and to correct them rather than to seek for those of others and to point them out with malicious intent. The latter is the habitual accumulation on the part of most people, which is but increasing the stock of one's own evil. Unfortunately, it is an epidemic most difficult to combat but easiest to breed.

    The cemetery is the biggest meeting-place of peoples, regardless of age, caste, rank, or nationality. There is no means of crossing over it, except by the way the Buddha and his Noble Disciples have crossed. But this crossing is not without thorough study in the great institution of birth, old age, illness and death. There is no hope of escape for those who choose ostrich-like to forget these truths, for such truths are there, belonging to them all the time. Staying in a cemetery is training oneself to face the truth and to be encouraged by it. Absurd as this may seem to worldly minds, it has been done, and with results, in the circle of practicing Buddhists who base their faith in the Buddha and his other Noble Disciples. This dhutanga was therefore recommended by the Buddha as a means of reducing pride in life and self-complacency, and as a means of preparing ourselves for the moment of death before it is too late. With the last breath all protective measures come to no avail. The great institution of death is reached. The only thing left to be done is to burn what remains. No observance of precepts, charity or meditation or any other way of merit-making can be begun or continued.

    The Venerable Acharn was known always to have recommended visits to a cemetery, both internal and external, because of these benefits. Of his disciples, there were those who, despite their habitual fear, struggled to courageously follow this dhutanga observance.