Page 2/2 - Buddhist Monks Education and Society

Meanwhile, inside the structure of the State education system, the higher the students go, the more they have to move into the urban areas. Some middle-class people in the up country may have partial means to send their children to study in the State system, but this still is not sufficient to support them completely; so when their children progress to higher levels of study and are to enter the market towns and major cities, they are often put in the care of the urban temple as dependents of the monks. This makes the temple a dwelling, a boarding house, for students from the countryside enrolled in the State system. This condition has even more evidently turned temples in the middle of cities into communities for people from the countryside; while at the same time, the temples have, in another way, become places offering support to the State education system.

Part of the custom of ordaining and studying which still remains in principle, if incompletely, is ordaining for the three-month rainy season (khao phansa); but this custom has been, to a large degree, disturbed by the State education system. Because most young people do not have the opportunity to ordain when they reach the proper age, they must wait until they graduate, or postpone this even further due to work, a career, or a government post, for example. At any rate, this custom still is of great benefit to Thai society. Most importantly:
a) Young men in the cities-given the surrounding conditions and the lifestyle there-are estranged from the customs of their own society. Ordination is a tool for pulling them back to be complete Thai people, not strangers to culture and custom.

b) For the young men living in the countryside, it can be of especially great benefit. In the eyes of this writer, I see the training and daily life in the temple, even during this temporary ordination period of three months, as real education and of greater benefit than their schooling during the early ages of primary school (prathom) grades 1-4, because it is education which brings one's life to bear on one's studies and it is studying based on real life within the surrounding conditions, culture and customs, including the relationship with the people who belong to one's own community. Ordination, which, we say, makes one ripe or mature (suk), still holds true for ordination in the countryside, because it makes those monks enter into adulthood, prepares them for joining or for becoming a complete member of a community. Besides gaining knowledge of the traditions and customs of the community, during their time in the Sangha, monks attain knowledge they can put to good use or use to serve the needs of their own community. Aside from this, many rural youngsters graduate from the fourth grade (prathom 4) and go off to live in the midst of the rice fields, almost completely forgetting their courses, even reading and writing Thai. When they enter the monkhood they can reconsider, make use of thai knowledge, and revive it again. Especially during a time when Thai educators are complaining that education in this country has been treading the wrong path for a long time and modern education makes students alienated from their own communities, culture and customs, the value of ordination according to custom, as I have mentioned so far, is very clear.

Anyhow, it is most unfortunate that the three-month ordination continues to fade even in the countryside--due to the state of the economy, for example—which makes the stay in the monkhood become shorter: one month, half-a-month. or even seven days. Daily training deteriorates. Many places have monks residing idly for a matter of days, while others lack leadership, such as lacking monks with enough seniority to become abbot, housing monks who have been in the monkhood only one to two years (phansa), continuing to maintain the temples according to the previously mentioned causes and conditions. The benefits of this custom are, therefore, in decline.

4. While monks and novices from the countryside currently use the "path of mobility" for attaining the benefits of education, taking some worldly courses and some Buddhist studies, in the end, most of them end up leaving the Order-this is the ordinary state of affairs; while at the same time, the Sangha, or the monks in administrative positions, are all caught up in trying to control or contain this situation, partially out of anxiety and confusion, and partly out of confidence in their own power, which can unmistakably be called busily engaging in a fight to the finish. In the meantime, a new trend has arisen: A group of young, modern people—some with high education and a lot of worldly experience-have become bored with the world or have come to see the value of Buddhism (dhamma-vinaya). They have been willing to leave their homes and follow out their intention to ordain for life (thawon). While at the same time, it has become clear that the Sangha was not prepared to receive this group of people, especially in terms of their education. Most of these people cannot find much meaning in the existing ecclesiastical education and have a wide circle of relations with groups of students in institutions of higher learning for laymen, which also have groups studying about Buddhism, and these groups exist beyond the confines of the Sangha system itself. It is true that the ordination of people of this calibre is something that should bring about good results, but if the educational system cannot meet their needs, then this may be the cause of bad results. If the Sangha has not made arrangements to accommodate and assimilate this group, then it is foreseeable that this new trend may become a strong force which is currently called challenging the whole educational system and administration of the Sangha-all of which would happen within a short period of time.

5. A short time after education had separated from the temple, other aspects of the life of the laity gradually moved away as well. Yet in the rural communities, some people still depend on the temple for education, and life is still more closely tied to the temple in accordance with tradition and custom than it is in the cities. Furthermore, after older generations pass away, if the later generations who hold responsibility in the government and modern society are no longer familiar with the temple and monks and come to have any relationship with them, it is like meeting strangers from different groups; they will not truly meet each other on common terms, nor will they understand each other's problems; in fact, they are likely to misunderstand each other very easily. All of this is due to the distance between the temples, the State, and urban society, which breeds an undesirable attitude, for example:
Most people in city and urban society are not familiar with the temple and the Sangha which constitutes a community in the middle of their own society. Only seeing its outward form and its occasional superficial movements, they do not know what it is or how it exists. They then paint a picture in their mind: Seeing monks study and then disrobe, they criticize and complain saying that the monks exploit the temple for their own education and take advantage of the villagers; after they disrobe, they take jobs away from lay people; or seeing no social role on the part of monks, they say that monks are listless and useless to society. Actually, the criticisms of these people are, to some extent, correct, but because the reasons for these attitudes are not based on understanding and knowledge, this brings about more bad results than good--at least it does not contribute to the solution of problems.
Currently, it is as if many of the people in important positions of responsibility in the State education system, or, to put it more broadly, the State does not know, does not understand, the customs and relationship between itself and the Sangha in the area of education-forgetting how, over time, the State had partial responsibility for the education of the Sangha-and so they do not take the correct stand on education for the monks, and sometimes even end up in confusion and conflict amongst themselves. For example, some people, on occasion, have been known to say that the education of the monks is the monks' business, and the education of the nation is the business of the nation: It's everyone for himself, different people, different work. But occasionally, some people are given to saying that this education for the monks has been conducted by the monastic institutions themselves, and there are no laws which recognize it; it is therefore, a kind of "outlaw" education, school, or university.
The patronage and support of the religion, since earlier times, has had, among other things, the goal of promoting and encouraging religious education-both directly and indirectly; but when educational activities of the temples continued to decrease, the meaning of this-in terms of the relationship between support of the religion and support of Buddhist education—also decreased until it has been almost completely lost. You can see that the supporters of Buddhism in this later period now focus on materialism, putting up more and more structures or monastic buildings-and even the Sangha guides the people in this direction.
The Sangha has become accustomed to feeling that education for the masses-or for children and young adults-is currently the responsibility of the government and the Sangha is only involved in teaching the monks and novices about Buddhism. This feeling is deep-rooted to the point that, generally, when one mentions religious education, the Sangha sees this only in terms of monks and novices and what goes on in the temples. They do not look beyond the fence or the wall of the temple; they do not think that "I ought to have a modicum of responsibility for the religious and ethical education of the children and young adults at large" at all. They, therefore, do not get involved in knowing how the young people, the children of villagers, receive their ethical training. Even if they were to talk about or criticize any news or situation of this kind, they would do it with the attitude of those who are outside the realm of responsibility.

Having said all of this, I have not wished to chastise or criticize any particular person or group; in fact, everyone and all groups are the product of all the causal factors mentioned above. The best path is one of cooperation or helping each other to study and understand the facts, accept the truth, and come together to change and solve these problems. The most unfortunate thing is that many people, especially those in positions of responsibility-either governmental or ecclesiastical—enjoy setting up regulations based on attachment to notions they have in their heads saying: "things must be like this," or "things must not be like that." When real life conditions do not fit the regulations they have established, they absolutely refuse to listen, and are unwilling to further investigate the truth with an open mind according to the related causes and effects. These people have good wishes for Buddhism and are concerned about its activities, but it is the concern and good wishes of these very same people which contribute to the increase and escalating seriousness of different problems. And it is the opposing or negative actions of these very people which have led to a kind of cooperation with their "perverted" monks, creating a field of battle for a fight to the bitter end; this, in turn, has helped to eliminate any common benefits or happiness and sometimes may even assist in the final destruction of Buddhism. Aside from the people at the administrative levels and those in positions of responsibility, we must admit that there are some monks and novices who do intentionally use the temple as a path for further study, for actual personal career benefits in a way which can be called using the "path of mobility" without helping to maintain the path. Besides, even among the monks and novices who tread this path of mobility mindful of the reason for doing so, thinking that they will maintain the path, there are still many others who act like seeds which break away and disperse, coming to rest just beneath the surface of the earth, crumbling, deteriorating, and rotting in the middle of the field instead of withstanding being tread upon, rolled over, dumped upon, and waiting to grow quietly, without anyone noticing, until the time is ripe and flowers bloom, making people willing to appreciate—by their show of beauty—the real fruits to be admired.

Go to Page 1/2 - Buddhism and Education

Buddhism and Education - Author: Phra Rajavaramuni (Prayudh Payutto)
Poetry by Grant A.Olson

Page 1/2 - Buddhism and Education

When we speak about Buddhism and education, we are prone to referring to the past when temples were the center for education and monks were the trainers and teachers in charge of education. This type of reference is a way of showing the value of Buddhism in society, which once really existed. But at the same time, it is like accusing oneself of a kind of negligence because now these values and benefits no longer exist, which can be called a kind of degeneration. Moreover, turning away from the confusion and void of the present and finding amusement and pride in the richness of the pasi might be viewed as a symptom of people who have run out of hope, who are trying to escape the sorrow of the present by turning to and making references to the past and finding pleasure and fulfillment there. This is not an auspicious thing to do nor a sign of progress that we should be pleased with.

This article is like some other articles in one respect, it turns back again to reclaim the past when temples were the center of education and learning in Thai society and when monks, since ancient times, had the important role of trainer and teacher of the populace. At any rate, in this article I will not revert to describing how the temple was the source of education and how the monks were the bestowers of education; I will only refer to these things to link them with the present. The important point is that I will make sufficient references to show that, even at the present time, Buddhism has not completely lost its importance in education; it still has a residual or latent role and sometimes these residual things have a great importance for Thai society.

There are two kinds of important Thai customs related to Buddhism and education which are fundamental to the current situation:
Customs in which the temple is the center of education and learning for the people and the monks are the teachers who carry out their duty of training others. This custom may be almost invisible to the urbanites and city-dwellers of the current day, but for villagers in the distant countryside it is still visible; even though it may not be the center it was in the past, it is still a path or a last refuge.

The custom of ordaining and studying (buat-rian), which can mean entering the monkhood along with studying, or when one ordains one must study, or ordaining for the purpose of studying; this might even mean being a monk for as long as one wishes to study, and after studying, those who want to stay in the Order can stay, and those who do not, can disrobe. This has become the custom of temporary ordination. One aspect of this custom still well known today, is the "three-month ordination" which continues to shrink to one month, half-a-month, even to seven days—that is one thing; and when one has remained in the monkhood for a time, one can leave the Order whenever one wishes-that is another thing.

Actually, these two customs are one and the same thing; but here I have divided them into two because the effects of these two aspects-which have come down to us to the present day-are different, as we will see below.

There are two important events and conditions which have resulted in the present state of Buddhist education:
The State established a system of education following the Western model and separated education for the masses away from the temple. At first, it was done with the cooperation of the temple, giving the temple an important element of responsibility; later, the two gradually became more and more distant to the point that the State and the temple might be considered as completely separate in educational matters.

The State has not yet been successful in establishing education for the general public and has not yet been able to give its people an equal opportunity to receive an education, because some people have not had access to this important opportunity: Some have lost this for geographical reasons, in that many places do not have access to a school; and some have lost out for economic reasons, because if a student studies well and has no money, schooling must cease.

Saying this is tantamount to criticizing the government as the primary cause of this degeneration, but actually it is not this way. The two points mentioned above are accepted facts, especially point number two. Educators themselves bring this Up and discuss it. The government is trying to find a way to rectify this. Just the opposite of criticizing are the points that follow: Because the conditions of the nation are this way, this still allows the temples and the Sangha a role and some importance in education; but if the government were to successfully perform the two activities mentioned above, the temples and the Sangha may completely lose their role, shrinking in importance in the area of education. We do not have to turn to the past to make suppositions about this; in the present we can see this more and more clearly. Whenever the government expands and spreads its service of education, wherever it goes, the role and importance of the temples and the Sangha are reduced or else their role must change, becoming different from before. It is understandable that the condition which will disappear most slowly (or very lastly), which will help the temples and the Sangha still maintain a role and importance in education for some time to come, is the lack of equal opportunity in education due to economic conditions. When the government is able to successfully solve the two problems above, then the educational role of the temple and the Sangha, as it exists today, must fade away and be lost, or change to become something very different. All of this depends upon working with knowledge that can keep pace with this situation, and whether or not, or to what degree, one is willing to accept the truth.


The current conditions resulting from the clash between the two customs above and the two major causes just mentioned, can be summarized as follows:

1. When the State does not have enough power to spread education to the masses and is still not able to provide equal opportunity to the people, the poor peasants and villagers in the countryside depend upon the custom of ordaining and studying and the temple as an ancient place of education, as a channel or path, even to the point of being a "path of mobility" (thdng phan) which allows one's children to receive a certain amount of education. This also has many other effects, such as:
Most of the so-called permanent monks and novices (samanera) in Thailand who reside at temples (numbering approximately 230,000) come from poor farming families in the distant countryside. These monks and novices flow into the temples in the major cities for further education. This makes the temples, even in the capital city, a community for upcountry people right in the middle of the city (more than 90% of the monks and novices residing at temples in Bangkok are from the countryside).
Normally, even though these monks and novices have the duty to study coursework related to Buddhism, because of their background and some other good supporting reasons, they are inclined to desire worldly studies as well—and this inclination increases, especially when one sees his contemporaries studying in the government system. If the temples and the Sangha are willing to accept these monks and novices into the Order, then it becomes their duty to see to what extent and degree they will have a way to motivate or force them to study courses related to Buddhism, and how much they should yield to their needs for worldly education. It is also normal that these needs and attitudes of the monks and novices of school age will not coincide with that of the Sangha or the ecclesiastical administrators of the Sangha; the greater the gap between their educational needs and the education offered by the Sangha, the stronger the conflict becomes. To put this as some modern people do: the situation has become sharply polarized. When things have reached this point, it ordinarily follows that the administrators of the Sangha only increase their concern; having become very concerned, they are likely to strictly, or even forcefully, make the monks and novices remain within the framework they stipulate. In modern terms, this is called working on the minus side (in a negative or destructive way). At any time or place, if these administrators have sufficient power to successfully control, they become overjoyed, but the overall conditions worsen each time. I feel that the way to bring about positive results cannot surpass the way of old Thai custom-that is, employing a policy of tactful conciliation and allowing benefits for both sides. To further illustrate this point. Thai custom is not averse to using a "path of mobility," quite the opposite, it supports using it, but it insists that those who tread this path must maintain it.1 The more the path is walked, the more progressive it becomes-including all those who walk the path, the path itself, and the community involved with this path-and the more everyone thrives together. Aside from all of this, there still will be only a certain number who will always remain in the Sangha and work there.
c) When monks and novices from the countryside flow into this path of mobility for education in the city and there is no flow back to the countryside, this makes for a further loss, a continuous loss of strength on the part of the countryside. In the cities, even though a monk may be well-educated, it still is not enough for him to acquire the status of being a leader: whereas in the outlying areas, whatever knowledge the monks and novices may have, or do not have at all, the villagers regard them as leaders. But the qualified monks, who might provide good leadership in the countryside, jam into the cities, which makes for a two-fold loss.

d) When the role and condition of the education of the Sangha must depend on the deficiencies and ill — preparedness of the State education system, especially for potential ordinands, then when the State education system spreads or develops to any place (or the economics develop to any place) the number of young boys who ordain as novices decreases to the point that we can say there are no such ordinations at all, aside from novices ordaining at a cremation ceremony (kan buat nafai), or else gathering a group of young students together to ordain for a short period during the summer recess.2 There are always some novices around, but they have come to be novices from the far away countryside where the State education system has not yet reached. This is the cause for an ever-increasing lack of monks who are leaders in the countryside, which goes hand-in-hand with a decline of the temple and the Buddhist religion.

'We must undersland that using the term "path of mobility" (thing plain) here is a manner of speech used simply to describe the condition or reveal phenomena in society. It does not mean that it is the intention of monks and novices to use the temple as a path of mobility, because most of them enter the Order at an age when they do not have knowledge or understanding of these matters. They, therefore, do not know themselves that they have entered such a path These monks and novices entering the Order can be called a product of society which tradition and custom have established. According to traditional belief, ordination is an act of merit. Merit can also be transferred. It is believed, therefore, that an ordinand (nak) who ordains upon the occasion of a cremation can pass merit on to the deceased-trans.

Go to Page 2/2 - Buddhist Monks Education and Society

Buddhism and Education - Author: Phra Rajavaramuni (Prayudh Payutto)
Poetry by Grant A.Olson

This type of truth (sacca) is made in order to fulfill one's wishes. Details can be found in the Sama Jataka (no. 540), etc. Here we will give only a few pertinent details:

Conduct of Suvanna-Sama

Suvanna-Sama lay unconscious (dying or near death) due to an injury from a poisoned arrow. King Piliyakkha brought his parents to him. As soon as they arrived they sat down by their unconscious son and his father, Dukula, lifted up his head while his mother, Parika sat at his feet and put her son's feet on her lap. They were both crying. As they were blind, they fumbled when they touched their son and in that way the mother discovered there was still some warmth in his chest. She realized her son was not dead yet, but in a swoon from the poison, and she thought she should try to counteract the poison through an act of truth (sacca-kiriya). So she made the following solemn declaration: "My son Sama was a moral person. If this be true, may he be cured.
"Likewise, my son Sama was in the habit of cultivating the noble practice. "My son Sama told only the truth. "My son Sama has always looked after his parents. "My son S5ma was obedient to the elders in the family. "I love my son more than I love my life. "May all the moral deeds done by me in the past, and by his father, overcome the poison's strength." Suvanna-Sama rolled onto his side. Thus, his father realized his son was still alive and decided to pronounce the same act of truth spoken by the mother. And the Bodhisatta Sama rolled back over.

Meanwhile a spirit by the name of Bahusodarl from Gandhamadana mountain in the Himalayas came to the scene. She had been the mother of Sama seven lives earlier. She made the following oath, "I have lived for a long time on Gandhamadana mountain where every tree hears its own perfume. Throughout this period I have loved no one more than Suvanna-Sama. If this be true, may the poison afflicting Sama depart from his veins."

As the parents and the spirit sat there crying, the handsome young man sat up. The oaths spoken by them succeeded in fulfilling their wish that Sama be free from injury and thus recover. Such oaths are therefore called wish-fulfilling vocal truths (Icchapurana-vacl-sacca).

Conduct of Supparaka
There is also mention of wish-fulfilling vocal truth (Icchapurana-vacl-sacca) in the Supparaka Jataka (no. 463). Here is a brief account:

Once the Bodhisatta lived in a seaport town called Bharukaccha in the kingdom of Bharu. His name was Supparaka the Wise. He had been captain of a ship for a long time and had become blind because or the sea vapours. He was asked by some merchants to sail with them and decided to do so. After a week of sailing, an untimely wind began to blow and the ship could not be kept on course. Instead it wandered across the ocean for four long months. It passed through the five oceans: Khuramali,
Aggimali, Dadhimali, Kusamali, and Nalamali. Eventually it approached the terrible ocean named Valabhamukha. The captain, Supparaka, told the merchants that no one could steer away from that ocean and that they would sink as soon as they entered it. The merchants cried bitterly.

Then the Bodhisatta Supparaka, wishing to save all the merchants through a solemn act or truth said, "I have never harmed any living being since the time I reached the age of reason; I have never stolen, not even a piece of cut bamboo. I have never even looked with sensual thoughts at other
Eeople's daughters or wives. I have never told ies. I have never taken intoxicants - not even as much as a drop of dew on a blade of grass. Through this declaration of truth may this shio_ arrive safe and sound back at its original dock." Due to the power of this truth, the ship arrived at the jetty of Bharukaccha in one day.

This example of right speech (Vacl-sacca) uttered by Supparaka is also wish-fulfilling vocal truth (Icchapurana-vacl-sacca) for its aim was for the well-being' of a group of people and for the fulfilling of a wish.

Conduct of King Sivi
In the Sivi Jataka (no. 499) the Bodhisatta was King Sivi of the capital Aritthapura in the kingdom of Sivi. He was not content with giving away daily goods whose total cost was about six hundred thousand pieces of money. He decided to donate parts of his body. The king of the thirty-three gods,*Sakka, disguised himself as a blind Brahmin and went to him in order to make this possible. "Oh king," he said, "your eyes are good but mine are not. If you give me one of yours then we could each see with one eye. So I beg you to give me one of your eyes."

The king was delighted and sent for the surgeon SIvaka and ordered him to take out one of his eyes. The surgeon, the ministers and the queen requested the king not to do this, but he was persistent. The surgeon had to take out one of his eyes. The king looked at the eye with his one remaining eye, full of gladness, and praying for full enlightenment realized on his own (Samma-sambodhi), handed the eye over to the Brahmin.

The Brahmin being Sakka, the eye became like a normal eye when it was put into the eye socket. The king was delighted with this and donated his other eye, despite everyone's protests. The Brahmin put the second eye in and it too became like a normal one.

Then he spoke a few words in praise, and pretending to leave the palace, suddenly disappeared.
It was not proper for the blind king to rule any longer, so he made a shelter near the lake in the royal garden and stayed there reflecting on his donation of his eyes. Then Sakka came and walked near the shelter so that the king would know he was there. When the king asked who was there, he told him he was Sakka and that the king could ask for anything he desired. The king replied, "I have plenty of wealth. Now that I am blind, I just want to die."

Sakka asked him, "Oh king, do you truly wish to die or is it simply because you are blind."
The king replied that it was because he was blind. So Sakka told the king that he could not make the king's eyes become normal again, and he urged the king to take an oath, saying that would enable him to see again.

The king then made this oath, "I gave to all who used to come to me, and I also gave to one who asked for what he wanted from me. Through this truth may my eyes become normal again."
Through this oath, one eye appeared. Then the king made another vow, "When a blind Brahmin came to me and asked for an eye, I donated both my eyes. And when I donated my eyes I was very pleased. Through this truth may I have another eye. With this oath the second eye appeared. These eyes were neither his original eyes nor were they divine eyes. Nor were they sight gained by special attainment. In fact, they were eyes which can appear through the power of the virtue of truth (sacca), one of the
perfections. Such truth Jsacca) is also wish-fulfilling truth (Icchapurana-sacca) as it is uttered for the sake of fulfilling one's desires.

Conduct of Fish-King
In the Maccha Jataka (no. 7 5) the Bodhisatta took birth as a fish. One year there was a drought and the water dried up which meant the crows could easily pick up the fish with their beaks and eat them. The leader of the fish, the Bodhisatta, made an oath, "Although I have taken birth as a fish which usually eat each other, I have never eaten one of my own species, even a fish the size of a
train of rice. Through this oath may the rain pour own." And there was rain.

Conduct of Young-Quail
In the Vatfaka Jataka (no. 35) the Bodhisatta was a quail. While he was still too young to fly or walk, a great forest fire broke out and his parents fled. The young quail decided it could make an oath as there were still the glory of morality, truth and compassion In the universe. He spoke the following declaration of truth: "I have wings but cannot Fly yet. I have feet also, but cannot walk. My parents have fled. Oh forest fire, go away and leave me alone!" At this, the fire kept away from him for a distance of sixteen lengths and then went out.

In the Jataka stories mentioned above (Sama, etc.), we can say that the wishes were fulfilled because the oaths were taken on the basis of merit. But in the case of the Bodhisatta when he was a quail there is no merit. Why then was the wish fulfilled? A declaration of truth is based on truth whether it be meritorious or not. A declaration related to merit is not spoken truth (vacl-sacca) if it is spoken wrongly. In a case such as that, it will not have any power or force. Only a declaration of truth as an oath can make one1s wish be fulfilled and be powerful. The quail's oath was a declaration of truth, so it became spoken truth (vaci-sacca) and the wish was fulfilled. The declaration was neither meritorious nor immoral.

Conduct of Kanha-Dipayana
The Kanha-DIpayana Jataka (no. 444) illustrates how a declaration of truth can become spoken truth (vacl-sacca) and the wish be fulfilled even though related to immorality. Here is a brief summary:
There were once two hermits named Kanha-Dfpayana and Mandavya. One day the former returned from the latter's abode and his layman benefactor approached him and offered a drink. As the layman and the hermit Kanha-DIpayana were talking about the hermit Mandavya, the layman's son, Yanfta-Datta was playing with a top nearby. The top fell into a hole where a poisonous snake was sheltered. The boy put his hand into the hole to get the top and the snake bit his hand. As a result of the snake's poison the boy fell down in a swoon.

When the parents learned of this, they took the boy and laid him at the feet of the hermit and asked him to cure their son. The hermit replied that he did not know the right medicine for expelling the snake's poison, but that he would treat the boy by making an oath. He put his hands on the boy's head and said, "I saw ill in the world, so I renounced it and became a hermit, but I only maintained a calm mind for one week. After that, for the last fifty years, I have not found this life pleasant. I have had to restrain myself in order to lead this life. By this declaration of truth may the poison be expelled and may the boy come back to life." And the poison in the boy's chest was expelled and sank into the ground.

Then Yartna-Datta opened his eyes and the boy looked at his parents. After saying, "Mother, father," he fainted again. The hermit then told the parents that he had somewhat cured the boy but that they should also use their power in curing the boy. So the father made an oath, "whenever those on alms round arrived at my house, I never felt pleasant towards them and determined not to pay respects to them. However, I did not let anyone know this. When making donations I did not wish to do so, but I pretended that I did in order to make meritorious deeds. Through this declaration of truth may the poison be relieved and my son come back to life!" The poison in the boy's back was expelled and sank into the groun and the boy sat up, but he could not stand.

So the boy's father turned to the mother and urge her to make an oath. The mother said that althoug she had some points to use in making a declaratic of truth she did not dare to do so In the father' presence. The husband urged her not to hesitate and she finally made this declaration:"I hate th snake that bit my boy very much. I hate my husband as much as I hate the snake. May this declaratio of truth cure the poison and my son come back to life!"
At this the remaining poison in the boy's body was expelled and sank into the ground and the boy go up again and played with his top.

In connection with the declarations of these three - the hermit, the husband and the wife - we shoul remember that although the things spoken about were not good, yet it was the truth and the trut has the force to fulfill one's wishes.

THE PERFECTION OF TRUTH (SACCA PARAMI)

THEORETICAL TRUTH (Pariyatti Sacca) AND THE PRACTICE OF TRUTH (Patipatti Sacca)
Truth can be approached from two different standpoints: theoretical truth (Pariyatti Sacca), which includes the distinctions to be drawn between conventional truth and ultimate truth, the Four Noble Truths, etc.: and the practice of truth (Patipatti Sacca), which includes abstaining from wrong speech, using good speech, etc. In discussing the perfection of truth (Sacca PSrami) we will only be speaking of the practice of truth. Putting truth into practice includes right speech (VIcl Sacca), the perfecting of truth as practised by highly moral people such as the Bodhisatta (Future Buddha).
Right speech, the perfection of truth can be divided into three aspects:

I VOCAL TRUTH (Saddahapana-sacca)
II WISH-FULFILLING TRUTH (Icchapurana-sacca)
III TRUTH THROUGH ABSTAINING FROM WRONG SPEECH (Musa-viramana-sacca)

The first, vocal truth, is right speech spoken so that others believe the speaker. Wish-fulfilling
I VOCAL TRUTH (Saddahapana-sacca)
The practise of vocal truth can be illustrated by one of the lives of the Bodhisatta, as told in the Bhisa Jataka (no. 488). 1) We will only give a brief version of the story here.

Conduct of Maha-Kaficana
There was once a Brahmin young man named Maha-Kailcana who renounced the world together with his six younger brothers, a younger sister, a male and female servant, and a Friend. They lived, practising moderation, near a lake covered with lotus plants.

In the beginning, they all went out seeking food together and they were like people from the city or the villages, talking a lot. So the eldest brother said, "I will go for food by myself and gather for you all. You should stay in your respective dwellings, calmly meditating." At this the younger brothers replied, "You are our elder brother and our teacher. It is not fitting that our teacher should go in search of food". Nor should our sister or the maidservant go out. The eight of us who remain will take turns gathering food." The eldest brother agreed to this.

Time went by and they were so easily contented they did not need to go far to seek food but shared the lotus plants that they gathered from the lake. The one whose turn it was divided the plants into eleven portions. He then sounded the gong and each came to receive his share, from the oldest to the youngest, starting with Maha-Kaflcana. They did not meet each other unless there was a good reason.

Due to their high morality, the throne of Sakka, king of the second deva abode, shook. Sakka sought the reason for this, and when he realized why, hewished to test whether these hermits still harboured cravings for sensual pleasures. So he hid the eldest brother's share of food for three consecutive days. The first day the eldest brother thought that his share had been forgotten and he said nothing. The second day he remained silent too, but he concluded he was being punished for some wrong he may have committed. The third day he decided it was time to make amends so he sounded the gong in order to gather together the others. He asked why he had not received his share. The second eldest brother asked for permission to speak and then took an oath: "May he who stole your food dwell here with an attractive wife^ children, silver and gold, horses and cows, etc! (He made this oath in order to denounce taking pleasure in the five sense objects - vatthu-kamas — which lead to grief and misery.)

At this the eldest brother said, "How burdensome your oath is! But I believe you did not eat the lotus stalks. You may take your seat now." The others said, "Oh dear, please do not make such an oath. That oath is very heavy." In speaking this they put their hands over their ears. They did so because they were so afraid even to hear anything connected with sensual pleasures. Then the younger brother vowed, "Oh noble one, if I have stolen the share of lotus stalks, may I become a wearer of flowers, may I also become one who is smeared with sandalwood perfume from the region of Kasi 1), may I have many sons and daughters, may I become firmly attached to sensual pleasures such as these!" All i lie eight people took similar vows.

In this Jataka, the hermit leader Maha-Kancana was the Bodhisatta (Buddha-to-be) and the other ten were to become major disciples. As they had become thoroughly disgusted with sensual pleasures, they took their sacred vows boldly and others believed in them as a result. In the Bhisa Jataka (no. 488) it is not mentioned as a formal taking of an oath but simply as speaking a vow. These vows were based on truth, however, so they were verbal truth (Vaci sacca). The main idea behind each vow was, ' I did not steal your share of lotus stalk." As if is spoken truthfully, this is verbal truth (Vaci sacca). The rest or the vow includes mention of the kind of things they might possess or what
might happen to them and this is in order to allay the suspicions of the others. This type of truth (sacca) ought to be called Saddahapana sacca. One should keep in mind that from the time of King Mahasammata 2) up to the present, all vows have been Saddahapana sacca.

Vows
In the beginning vows were all verbal and people were said to "make a vow" or "swear an oath". Later, vows were written down and people were said to "take a vow on the text" as the vow was not only spoken but was done so while holding the text or by placing it on the head. This was commonly called "holding the text" or "being forced to swear an oath" when the person making the vow was ordered to do so. Vows of this sort (for example, "It is true" or "If it is not true may I become such and such") are Saddahapana-vacT-sacca. Curses Utterances not based on truth (sacca), but rather spoken in order to harm others are called curses.

Here is an example:

Conduct of the Hermit Narada
Once there ruled in Benares a king named Brahmadatta. At that time there was a hermit by the name of Devala who dwelled in the Himalayas. He went to Benares for food and he always took shelter in the hut of a potter who lived near the town gate. One day when the hermit was staying in the hut, another hermit, named Narada, came and was allowed to take shelter there. When they went to bed, Narada carefully noted where Devala was sleeping and where the door was situated. Devala, however, first laid down on his bed and then moved so that he was sleeping lying on the way leading to the door.
Now when NSrada went downstairs during the night, he accidentally stepped on Devala's hair.

'Who stepped on my hair?" Asked Devala.
"Oh sir, I stepped on your hair as I did not realize you were lying here," replied Na*rada politely.
But Devala retorted, "You wicked man! It is not proper that you who just came in from the jungle should step on my hair." So Narada begged Devala's pardon, "Sir, I accidentally stepped on your hair as I did not know you were sleeping just here. I am very sorry, sir . And he went out with Devala still grumbling at him.
Thinking Narada might step on him again, Devala changed his position. When Narada came back up, he thought he would avoid stepping on Devala's hair by entering where Devala's feet should be, and as it turned out he accidentally stepped on Devala's throat.
"Who stepped on my throat!" Devala shouted.
"Oh sir, it was me," Narada replied.
"Wicked man! First you step on my hair and now you step on my throat! I am going to lay a curse on you."
"Oh sir, I have not done anything wrong. The first time I was mistaken because I did not know where you were sleeping. And now, although I entered in such a way that 1 thought I would make no mistake I stepped on you. I am very sorry. Please be patient with me, sir."
But in spite of his request, Devala insisted he was going to curse Narada. Again Narada begged him not to. Nevertheless, Devala made his curse, "May your head split into seven pieces as soon as the sun rises tomorrow!"

Narada replied, "Very well sir, you have cursed me even though I begged your pardon and explained that I was not guilty of any bad intentions. I therefore request that the curse fall on the head of the one who is guilty - may his head split in seven." Narada spoke thus because he did not want to curse Devala out of anger as Devala had cursed him. He wanted rather to frighten Devala as he had incurred guilt and it was he who should admit he was in the wrong. Narada was a powerful hermit, so powerful he could see the events of the past forty world cycles and those of the coming forty world cycles. NSrada considered in his mind through his miraculous powers who would be cursed, and seeing that it would be Devala. he stopped the sun from rising out of consideration for Devala.

When the sun did not rise at the right time, the citizens of the town went to the gate of the palace and cried, "Oh king! The sun has not risen on your realm! Please do something to make the sun rise!" So the king considered whether he had done anything wrong, but he did not see any immoral act committed by himself. Therefore he assumed there was some special reason why the sun did not rise. Thinking that the cause might be a dispute among hermits, he ordered his men to make inquiries. When the case of the two hermits was reported back to him, he went with his followers to where they were. Following Narada's advice, the king made Devala go into a lake with a big lump of earth on his head. Then Narada allowed the sun to rise. When it rose, the lump of earth split into seven pieces and Devala dived under water to be free from danger.1)

In this story, Devala's words, "May your head split into seven pieces as soon as the sun rises," were not for Narada's benefit but were intended rather to harm him. They were spoken in anger and were nothing more than a curse. They have nothing of a vow about them. Curses similar to the above can be found in inscriptions. For example, "May he who destroys this which was established for ray merit be crushed into powder throughout seven generations. May he be rooted like a tree stump In the lowest hell, Avici, suffering there for a long time, without being liberated from it even though Buddhas appear in the various worlds and come to help him be liberated.2)" Curses such as these are never uttered by Bodhisattas. They are like the railings of the narrow minded who stir up the dislike of others. In fact,_ such curses are evil verbal actions (Pahrusa-vaca, harsh speech).

Saddahapana sacca has been explained above in connection with the Bhisa_ J3taka. It may also be illustrated by the Maha-Sutosama Jataka (no. 537).3) We wish to give a brief extract here:
Conduct of Mahl-Sutasoma

King Maha-Sutosama asked a favor of the man-eating robber Porisada, "I would like to go back to my country for a while. The reason is that on my way to Migacira park I met a Brahmin named Nanda who told me he would tell me four verses that are worth a hundred pieces of money. So I replied I would listen to the verses when I returned from my journey. Allow me to keep my promise and I will surely come back to you afterwards." But Porisada refused, saying, "You speak as if you would go back to the king of death after you had escaped from him. I do not believe you."

So the king said, "Porisada, my friend. It is better to die moral than to live through immorality. False speech will not prevent one from falling into the flames of the four lower regions when he dies. Porisada, you may believe someone who talks about a wind so strong it lifts up high mountains, or about the sun and moon falling to the ground, or about rivers that flow backwards, but you should not believe it if someone tells you King Maha-Sutasoma utters wrong speech. My friend, you may even believe it if someone tells you the sky has split in two or the ocean has dried up or that Mount Meru has broken off, but don't believe it if someone tells you King Maha-Sutasoma has lied."

Even after these words Porisada was suspicious. (Here, what King Maha-Sutasoma says is not exactly a vow or oath, it is simply a way to persuade Porisada that what he said was true).

Since Porisada still did not believe him, King Maha-Sutasoma decided to take an oath, so he said, "Porisada, my friend, put me down from your shoulders. I will make you believe me by taking an oath."
Porisada let the Bodhisatta down off his shoulders and the king said, "My friend, Porisada, if you
want me to take an oath, I will swear by my sword, thus: If I do not come back to you, may I never be born in a king's family in future lives!"

Porisada knew that King Maha-Sutasoma had taken an oath rarely sworn to by ordinary kings. And he felt that it made no difference if Maha-Sutasoma came back to him or not. As he himself was a king, he could offer blood from his arm to the deity of the banyan tree, and he allowed Maha-Sutasoma to go to his country.

King Maha-Sutasoma's verbal truth was also an oath which was taken in order_to make Porisada believe him, so it was Suddahapana sacca. Such truth (sacca) is Parama sacca (highest truth) which is developed by Bodhisattas.

Continued from Page 1 Advice for Buddhist Monks from Ajahn Taungrut

Also for a Buddhist monk I would say, don't forget simple things. I think most new Buddhist monks know about contemplating food when one is eating, they know one should try to be mindful here and there when one is walking and doing things. These things are very important. And although contemplating food may seem to give no results, steadily, steadily over time, they do give results. One gets results from it.

Another thing for new monks, one of the things very hard to control is ragatanha, sex. Now, probably the most effective way of controlling this is contemplation of the body. If one finds that ragatanha is arising, getting strong, contemplate the body, I mean traditionally, the thirty-two parts. See the asubha side of it. See the thing as a mess. See it as though it is all broken up. Think of corpses, that sort of thing. Although you won't see in yourself any special result, you'll find that the raga-tanha has dropped. There's a very good test for this. You watch your dreams. When one has a lot of raga-tanha, the tendency is for dreams of women and all the rest of it. When you do this contemplation, the women don't come near you in dreams. You may see them, but they don't come near you. Quite interesting, the effect it has. It's almost as though it's pushing them away in some way. I don't quite know how. I think this can work physically with women as well, if women are coming too close and becoming rather a nuisance, just contemplate the body. Think of them as a lot of bones and flesh and mess and blood and shit and so on, and all the rest of it. And you'll find that they're repulsed. This is a protection that Buddhist monks should have. Because women are very unstable and unpredictable, many of them, some of them, not all of them, only some of them. One needs some protection. That's an important one.

Q: Yes, I've had problems with that, problem with girlfriends and things, just kind of keep coming back up into my head. Is there any way of dealing with this?

Monk Ajahn Panna: Well, if the girlfriend's come into one's head, okay, cut her head off. See the blood coming out. Pull the meat off. Look at the bones. The thing is, you'll find a repulsion from doing that, you'll think "Oh, I mustn't do that with her." Why not? It's not harming her. It's just in the mind. What it's doing is damaging the image one has of her, that's all. It won't harm her at all. So, that's probably the best way to deal with that one. One has to make the determination to do it. If one just lets it come up and one doesn't make a determination, it won't have an effect. The thoughts will just go on.

Q (37:40): How does one know that one's efforts are having an effect in reducing the kilesas?

Monk Ajahn Panna: One finds that one's own estimation of one's own self importance, I don't mean in theory, but one's feeling of it, becomes greater, in the sense, by self importance, I don't mean in the bad sense, I mean one's own worth in oneself, quite regardless of whatever anyone else thinks, one's own worth in oneself, one doesn't feel that one's just like an old foot-rag. Inside, one feels that one has got something that's valuable, and one finds also that there's firmness inside. There's a firmness that is capable of fighting the kilesas, of going against them. All these things, they do show externally, but the external thing is not what matters. That's just a by-product. It's the internal thing that matters.

Q: I have had feelings of self-importance at times, but it is more in the sense of conceit, I think.

Monk Ajahn Panna: Yes, I don't mean self-importance where one is thinking about how important one is, it's just the feeling, one almost wonders, well, why do I feel like this? Is it a genuine thing or not? But at the same time it is there. And even though one questions it, it doesn't go. So you know it is genuine. If one has the usual meaning of self-importance in the world, if one questions that and investigates it, it bursts like a bubble.

Q: You mean that one has the sense that one is going the right way?

Monk Ajahn Panna: Yes, although one may not be able to see what way one is going, or one may not know what specific things one has done to go that way, which specific things have helped, yet at the same time, one knows that one has developed, and one can hardly put one's finger on it. Very hard to say what it is. The development has taken place and one knows it. One knows one has changed. I used to be like that, and one is no longer like that.

Continued from Page 1 - Buddhist Monks - Ajahn Taungrut

His Krooba Ajahn Monk repeated this two or three times in a similar manner. Fearing further reprimands from his teacher, Monk Tahn Taungrut took leave and returned to meditate for a few days. Taking into consideration how his teacher spoke to him, he reflected on what the best thing to do would be. Once he thought it through he went back to pay respects again.

"Excuse me Venerable sir, where are you going to have me spend pansa this year? It's already July, so please give the matter some consideration."
Buddhist Monk Luang Pu Mun sat and focused his mind internally, then said, "Pra Bot Cave, Tahn Taung. Go and stay at Pra Bot Cave, alright?"
"Pra Bot Cave! Everyone who goes and stays there dies. If they don't die they go mad. They become crippled. That's what they say. How can you send me there to stay? What will protect me?"
"The four Brahma Vihเras: ‘This is what should be done....’ Can you handle it, Tahn Taung?"
"Yes sir."
"O.K. That's the spirit. May your practice progress, Tahn Taung."

That pansa there was no choice but to go stay at Pra Bot Cave. He stayed in the cavern, meditating in solitude. If he heard the sound of owls calling each other he'd lay down to sleep. The forest birds signalled the beginning of a new day when they left to look for food, calling out to each other, " Jai jai". Emerging from the cave he'd walk cross-country through the mist about four kilometres and then some before he reached the place for going on alms round. If he walked briskly he could get there in an hour. Walking slowly, it took longer than that.
Time rolled by until the full moon of September. Traditionally on full moon days the villagers would go to the monastery to make merit. It was a bright clear night as Venerable Taungrut sat in meditation inside the cave. At that moment there occurred a loud noise-- loud crashing sounds. Fear began to arise. What could those possibly be stomping down the mountainside towards him? Whatever they were, when they reached the mouth of the cave they jumped down, grabbed each other and began to wrestle.

Their deafening yells reverberated throughout the mountain and it shook as if it were about to collapse. Monk Venerable Taungrut thought he'd go and have a look to see what was making the noise. He almost went. Then he thought, "If I go out there I'll probably die just like all the others in the stories I've heard. Further more, whatever they're doing, that's their own business. Whether it's an animal, a ghost, or an evil spirit--that's not my business. I came here to meditate, so I'll just carry on with my practice. We don't have to have anything to do with each other." Once he considered it in this way he could continue on focusing his mind. But every hair was standing on end. He sat there watching his mind. From that moment on Venerable Monk Taungraut's meditation became truly accomplished. The Dhamma gushed forth.

As the Dhamma arose so did an irresistible desire to teach the Buddhist Dhamma, so he sat there all alone giving a Dhamma talk. For seven days and seven nights he continued on. Even if someone had tried to sew his mouth shut, the needle probably would have broken. Or else his mouth would have ripped. He was proclaiming the dispensation of the Lord Buddha. He thundered against the corrupt monks of his time-- especially those who abused positions of power. It wasn't enough just to teach within the borders of Thailand, so as he taught his words reached foreign lands as well: Malaysia, England, and other western countries. The Buddhist Dhamma teachings flowed forth. Each day he only ate three bites of food: one for the Buddha, one for the Dhamma and one for the Sangha. He taught untiringly, with no need of sleep. Completely alone, he gave Buddhist Dhamma talks day and night like a maniac, getting thinner all the time.

"Tahn Ajahn, are you feeling sick?", a layman asked him on almsround.
"No."
"Are you able to eat alright?"
"Just fine."

Suspicious, the layman thought to himself, "I can't believe that if he's able to eat that he's not sick. He's so thin his eyes have sunken deeply. I'd better follow him and have a look."
The man secretly followed Venerable Monk Taungrut back, and sure enough he saw the monk eat just three mouthfuls of food: one for the Buddha, one for the Dhamma and one for the Sangha. The layman then protested, "How can you tell me you have no problem eating, that you're not sick? You only eat three bites! You're so thin your eyes are hollow and empty. Why did you deceive me?"

Listening to the man, Monk Tahn Ajahn reconsidered. With his hair standing on end, he suddenly realized, "I misled him", and he returned to focusing awareness on his citta. From that time on his heart had reached fulfilment, but he still had this desire to give Dhamma talks. He eagerly awaited the end of the pansa, so he could go tell Luang Pu Mun. It was only two days after the end of pansa before he arrived to see his teacher and recount all his experiences. He described the various states of mind that had occurred and all that had taken place.
Once he finished telling his story, Luang Pu Mun concluded,
"Mm. That's good, Tahn Taung. Your citta is now at the same level as my own. Now you can teach, Venerable Taung. Teach to your heart's content. Uncover your platter of rice for all to see. Teach the Buddhist Dhamma. There's now no need to fear teaching. Reveal it all--just as if you were serving a feast."

From that point on, Tahn Ajahn Taungrut wandered about looking for situations to teach the Buddhist Dhamma. Around the villages of Tahnton and Poojan there were large communities and large audiences for his Buddhist Dhamma talks. At that time he became a constant companion of Luang Pu Sao. He felt a debt of gratitude to his teacher for all he'd given him. Whenever Luang Pu Sao asked him to accompany him, he'd go. Wherever he was asked to stay, he'd stay.

Having gone to Ubon, Luang Pu Sao requested Tahn Ajahn Taungrut to spend the pansa at Seetuan, saying, "There are many good people there. There are many bad as well." Until Luang Pu Sao's passing away, Tahn Ajahn Taungrut attended on and served him.
When I later asked the Buddhist Monk Tahn Ajahn Taungrut about his practice experiences during that 10th pansa in Pra Bot Cave, the answer was brief.

"It was like I had climbed to the top of the tallest tree. There was no where else to go."
"How would you describe the citta of a person who had finished their spiritual work?"
"Sati-passaddhi: Mindfulness and tranquillity. Sati is ever-present. The deep peace of passaddhi is ever-present. In the citta there are no thoughts of harming. It's just like a water buffalo that has been trained to plow the rice paddies. When it's time to turn around it turns by itself. You don't have to pull on its rope much. For anyone who's cared for their citta to this extent...the citta then takes care of itself."

Q: The only thing I was interested in, Monk Ajahn Panna, was how you've seen quite a few Buddhist monks come and go, and I just wondered what advice you had for new monk. What surprised me at Wat Boworn, I've seen so many come and go and...When I was ordaining, David Panatello was just disrobing. I've seen quite a few come and go now. I don't know what it is that makes a Buddhist monk ...what it is that keeps one going, why it is

Ajahn Panna: I would say one of two things. One of them you can do nothing about and that's kamma. There is one other thing, that a new monk should, within the first year of him being ordained, I would say, try to get to a good teacher and try to work as hard as he can on samadhi; because until one has a taste of samadhi in meditation, one doesn't know the value of the Buddhist Dhamma and the teachings. If a Buddhist monk doesn't get any samadhi, he gets no experience of it, then he doesn't see the value of it. He reads the books, but paper is not very tasty food, paper and printed ink, and after a while the citta gets rather tired of it. And after that one thinks, well, what am I doing this for? I'm just making difficulties for myself and I'm not getting anything for it. So he gives up the robes. Whereas if a person gains samadhi in mediation, then they know the taste of that, they know that this is right and this is good, and they've had the experience of something which is more happiness than they've had before. If they can only get to that and maintain it, then things are okay. So I would say the best advice for anyone who becomes ordained is get out of Bangkok as soon as you can, get to a wat where there is good teacher and get down to the practice; do the practice as hard as you can, for a long time, and don't stop doing it. There's a great temptation in many ways to stop. Having got some experience, one thinks "Oh, I'd like to talk about this with other people," and so talks with other people all the time about it, and it just fritters away. The thing one has to do is practise, to learn the method and not talk to other people about it. There's a well known experience that when a person gains something or they find out something or they come to know something, if they share that with other people, it's as though it spreads. This is found with bad things. If a person has got some bad things in their past, and they've got some guilt about it and feeling bad about it, they talk about it with someone else, it spreads, it eases it. Well the same thing happens in the opposite way with good things. If you talk to others about it, it becomes much more ordinary. It loses its taste and one doesn't feel it's so valid. So the business of keeping these things to oneself is very important until one has a lot of experience, until one is strong inside. So I would say, do one's samadhi practice, and don't talk about it. If you gain something, some method of your own that works very well, that works well with you, don't go telling other people. Not until you have enough experience with it that you are well used to that method and you know it works well, then maybe, but not until then. This is very important. But the important thing for a new Buddhist monk is to get some experience with the practice. Because if they don't have that, then there's nothing really to hold them, otherwise its just theory and ideas and so on, and they've been doing that all their life. So I would say, get to the practice, get to the samadhi. There must be samadhi. It's no good thinking about things. You've got to keep on to one thing like Buddho, Buddho, Buddho, just that, or anapanasati, keeping the breath here, and stopping thoughts, stop the thought entirely. When one has stopped the thoughts, then one is in the position to determine to use them properly. Until one can stop one's thoughts, one hasn't got control of them, one can't control them, they go everywhere, that's just weak. But having learned to stop thought, then one can learn to put them where one wants them. To make use of them, they become strong. So, the thing is to begin with, stop the thoughts. Learn to gain calm. People in the West need calm. They come from an environment which is a hell of a mess. And because they have been influenced by the environment, mostly, they are a hell of a mess too. It takes a long time to settle down, to allow thought to settle out, and they have to realise they haven't got very long. I mean they haven't got long before their kilesas start coming up and saying "Hey, what are you doing here, This isn't doing you any good." So they've got to work hard at it. They've got to go to a place where they don't have all the distractions, where they can get down to doing the practice properly.

Another thing I would advise, for anyone who is trying to practise meditation for samadhi, stop reading. Don't read. Particularly news magazines or anything of that sort. One has to realise, whatever one reads, whatever one hears, it all goes in, it all goes into the citta, and that's food for it. And it develops in the way that food goes in; I mean, if it is food about the world, it thinks about the world and goes out to the world. If it is food about bad things, it goes into bad things and thinks about bad things. Even if it is good things, it goes in and starts thinking about good things. But if one is trying to stop thought, none of it is any use. So the best thing is to stop all contact and reading, and talk with other people as little as possible. Keep to oneself. Keep away. More Information at this website - Buddhist Monk

Q: I found myself now, I don't know if it is typical of monks, but I talk too much, I think. About stupid things, about petty things. I realise I'm talking about it but I can't seem to....

Monk Ajahn Panna: Yes, one should watch oneself talking, and then reflect on one's talking, and reflect, did that talk do me any good? What good did I get from it? What value? Did the other person get any good? One should really think like this. I mean, we all make mistakes I know. We all forget quite often. All of us, except the real Ajahns, haven't got enough mindfulness, but one has to apply this often and often and often until it starts to have an effect. Then one thinks one's going to talk about something and then one thinks "Why? What's the point of it?" to oneself. Then the teaching is beginning to have an effect.

Also for a monk I would say, don't forget simple things. I think most new monks know about contemplating food when one is eating, they know one should try to be mindful here and there when one is walking and doing things. These things are very important. And although contemplating food may seem to give no results, steadily, steadily over time, they do give results. One gets results from it.

More advice from Ajahn Panna for aspiring Monks: Advice for Buddhist Monks - Continued

Tahn Ajahn Taungrut Kantasilo was a Buddhist Monk disciple of Luang Pu Mun Bharidatta and Luang Pu Sao Kantasilo. He was of the same generation of disciples as Buddhist Monks Tahn Ajahn Sing Khantayamo and Tahn Ajahn Deu Acaladhammo.

He was born at Sampong Village and ordained as a Buddhist Monk at the village monastery. He stayed there five pansas and learned the patimokkha; however he still had some doubts regarding the vinaya. Because he couldn't understand the meaning of some of the rules, he began to search for a Krooba Ajahn who could clarify the matter. After hearing of the reputations of Luang Pu Mun and Luang Pu Sao he set off travelling to pay respects to, study with and converse with them. Both the teachers explained the essentials of correct practice--practice in line with Buddhist Dhamma and Vinaya, from the Patomsompot (a 19th century Thai commentarial classic in verse form) and the Vinaya texts--until MonkVenerable Taungrut understood. He was so satisfied with the explanations that he asked to become their disciple and stay at their monastery. Both of the Monks Venerable Ajahns trained him, instructing him to practice in accordance with the Vinaya in all its details.

Concerning the practice of meditation (bhavanเ), Luang Pu Mun and Luang Pu Sao recommended that Monk Venerable Taungrut go and find a place in the forest suitable for bhavana—especially a place with tigers or that was rumoured to have a malevolent ghost. The best would be a cremation ground that had corpses carried in each day, so that the heart (citta) would become unwaveringly firm and Buddhist Dhamma would quickly arise.

They recommended that he study the Buddhist texts Visuddhimagga and Moon Mahเ Kan. These were to be studied only in order to have a well-rounded understanding, not to be memorized in order to give Buddhist Dhamma talks. Both of the Ajahns reiterated, "Don't go giving Buddhist Dhamma talks, Venerable Taung. First meditate until you're accomplished in bhavanเ. If you're in too much of a hurry to give Buddhist Dhamma talks, the Buddhist Dhamma inside won't have a chance to do any teaching." Tahn Ajahn Taungrut then practised, strictly following their advice.

Life in the jungle was one of extreme impoverishment. The four requisites were in short supply. There were no cups, no kettles. He had to use a section of bamboo and drill a hole in it to thread a shoulder strap. He had to filter his drinking water. On alms round he'd only get plain rice. When it was time to eat, he chewed it thoroughly. On those days when he'd get one banana, he'd be elated. The villagers weren't very clued in. Generally they understood that meditation monks didn't eat meat, that they only ate sesame seeds like people from India. He'd go on alms round to four or five houses, get enough rice to fill him up, and then quit. He didn't have a glot'. If there were lots of mosquitoes then he would cover himself with his robe folded in half. Go here for more information... Buddhist Monk

The sanghเtใ was used in place of a pillow or blanket. Sometimes he would sleep with his head resting on a tree root or on his own fist. On those times when he'd stay near where the villagers threshed their rice, he could ask for some old rice stalks to roll up in a bundle, cover it with a folded cloth and use that as a pillow. If a villager happened by, he could help by breaking off a branch so the leaves could be used. He would even take some vines, tie them up together and cover them with a bathing cloth, and that would substitute for a pillow. Lying down he would focus on his bhavanเ.

Sometimes the water buffalo herders would pass by, and finding him sitting in the cremation ground, they'd tease and make fun of him in various ways:

"Is this monk crazy or what? He's been sitting here for two or three days!"
Some people would approach, bow to him, then pretending to be serious, ask in jest,
"Would you like to chew some betel nut? Do you smoke cigarettes, Ajahn?"
Monk Ajahn would respond; "If there is some, I chew it. If not, I don't. If there are any, I smoke them. If not, I don't."

This is just one example. But they were just asking to ask. Not once did they actually offer him anything. There were a few occasions when some villagers would come and request Buddhist Dhamma teachings.

"Teach us some Buddhist Dhamma, Venerable."
"I'm still new to the practice. My Krooba Ajahns won't allow me to give Dhamma talks yet."
"Well, what about that book you've got there? Give us a Dhamma teaching from the book,"
"They gave me this book simply for me to read, telling me not to use it for Dhamma talks. They told me to wait for the Dhamma inside to express itself, then start teaching others,"

he explained to the villagers—in the same way as his Krooba Ajahns had stressed so emphatically with him. He did however, give the villagers the five precepts, so that they would be satisfied with having made merit.

The Monk Venerable Taungrut practised and developed meditation like this for four years. Only very rarely did he go to pay respects to his teachers, and then for only two or three days or maybe a week. Once he'd heard some Buddhist Dhamma teachings, they'd chase him back out there to meditate, and the places they'd send him to were all fear inspiring.

Staying in the forest for extended periods of time, his possessions became old and worn. His bathing cloth was ripped. His robe (jiwon) was disintegrating. No one offered to provide him with requisites (pavเranเ), and he didn't have any relatives there. He couldn't ask laypeople to provide things because it was against the vinaya. So when his robes ripped, he'd mend them. There were patches everywhere. He spent a lot of time sewing and the thread he'd brought with him ran out. When he found some yellow bark on a tree that had recently died, he'd take a knife and gently pare it off. Once the bark was stripped off he'd weave it into the robe. Each time he bathed he had to wait until there were no women in the area. He'd bathe in the forest, hopping just like a frog.

As things got increasingly worse, Buddhist Monk Venerable Taungrut began to think of his home. He missed his two younger sisters and his older brother, a government official at Sampong Village. He came up with the idea to return and spend the pansa at his home village. That way he could ask for some cloth from his younger sister. But when he went to respectfully present the idea to his two teachers, Luang Pu Mun immediately scolded him.
"Ha! So you said you wanted to receive some Buddhist Dhamma from the teachers Mun and Sao, but after a little bit of practice you get homesick. Your house's pillars at Sampong are firmly sunk into the earth. Whenever you go back they'll be there for you to see. What's difficult is this practice of Buddhist Dhamma—that is, if you haven't yet realized Dhamma. Your house is just the same as it always was. You want to attain magga- phala. Do you think that longing for your home while meditating will do the trick?"

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