And so here I am, back in Britain.

Yes, after sixteen months in the Land of Thai my lungs are now supping fresh March English air. Mmmm. In one sense there’s not too much to say about my time over there; after all, places may change but the practice remains the same. And I stupidly forgot to leave all of my defilements in England! However, there are a few experiences and thoughts I’d like to share, beginning with this one:

A King under my Kuti

Towards the end of December, 2011, after having spent my first six weeks at a monastery in the mountains of Korat, I arrived at Wat Pah Ampawan in Chonburi Province for a three week stay. It’s a very quiet – sabbai - forest monastery nestled among verdant green hills, with a large lake separating the old and new areas of the wat. I stayed on the new side in a recently built (though powerless) traditional wooden kuti on metre high stilts. Just beyond a good stone’s throw from there, flanked by palm trees and overlooking the lake, stood the imposing Abbot’s kuti, where the Venerable Ajahn Jundee resides.

One warm night (a recurring theme in Thailand…), at around 7 pm, I was meditating in my kuti when I heard something moving through the dry leaves just outside my window. ‘What could it be?’, I innocently wondered. So, grabbing my torch, I sallied forth to investigate. Little did I know what creature of the night had come to say hello.

I saw its tail first: it was dark brown and pretty thick. It clearly belonged to a large snake that was currently disappearing behind the far corner of my kuti. I was about four metres away. Hardly had the tip of its tail slipped from view when the other end of the snake emerged at the same corner to investigate the torchlight. Its head and neck, perpendicular to the rest of its body, were reared up two feet off the ground. Its large distinctive hood was open. It paused and faced me. My mouth dropped; my eyes bulged. It couldn’t be. It was.

Being from England, where the most lethal animal is a grumpy hedgehog, I’m not too familiar with the deadly snakes of Thailand, but in this case it took me all of half a second to realise that I was face to face with nothing less than a King Cobra.

I won’t tell you exactly which words exploded into my mind at that moment, but I was excited – oh yes, and in awe, and quite unsure of what to do. And so I just gazed, transfixed. He (or she) gazed back. But I did not feel threatened, and so I was not afraid. I felt honoured. This noble being – so rarely seen by man – had come to visit, and he (or she) was not in a hurry to go away. On the contrary, after eyeing me up for a while, it slowly began to move again. Not away from me – no, no. This majestic creature was curious. It glided down under my kuti - closer to me. (Though giddy with excitement I was mindful enough to keep a wooden railing between us). It was when it had settled itself there on the sand that I could finally appreciate its length. I might be exaggerating, (though I honestly tried my utmost to pin down a realistic estimate in my spinning mind) but it was as much as four metres long. Four, solid, arm-thick metres of the largest poisonous snake in the world! I continued to gaze at him. He continued to gaze back. Then, after a minute or so, it turned, no doubt fed up with the dumbstruck monk shining a torch in its face, and nonchalantly meandered away into a thick clump of nearby bamboo. So that was it. That was the last I saw of it. You might think I’m crazy, but during subsequent evenings of meditation I implored the magnificent being to return. It didn’t.

I wonder why it came, and why it acted as it did. Was it attracted to the light? or a smell? Was it just passing by? Or was it drawn by the meditative mind? Was it pacified by the practice of precepts and loving-kindness? Beings can sense when you mean them no harm, and when you regard them as your friends. I think the practice had something to do with it. It can have powerful effects, you know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Top picture from Wikipedia: {{PD-US}} – published in the US before 1923 and public domain in the US. (Apparently I have to put this…)

No other precept is the subject of such lengthy and tiring debate as the fifth. The Twitterverse, blogs, web-sites, periodicals, discussion groups, and the nether-regions of online Buddhist forums continually pulsate with it. To drink, or not to drink: that is the question.

But why, we are right to think, is this question even being asked? It isn’t because of any ambiguity in the Teachings; take one look at a decent translation of the Pāli Canon and you’ll see the Buddha unequivocally said ‘avoid intoxicants which are the basis of heedlessness’*. Nor is it because the precepts belong to a different time and culture; we are no less in need of moral guidance and sobriety than people were in the Buddha’s day – if anything, we are more in need.

So why? Because people would rather follow their defilements than the Path.

Now I know that there are people reading this who are partial to the odd tipple, including two in particular to whom I am very close. And I know that Buddhism means a great deal to them and that they try to follow it as best they can – cultivating concentration, mindfulness, truthfulness, non-attachment, loving-kindness, patience and so on. But I also know that they fully understand: what the fifth precept is; that they are not keeping it; that a Buddhist is one who does; and that it would be unskilful to claim that they are as long as they’re still drinking alcohol.

If you aren’t ready to give it up then this is the skilful approach: an honest admission that the precept is such and that you’re not keeping it… yet.

And then there are those who have made the commitment to abstain but who genuinely slip up. Having been trumped by temptation, however, they recognise their error and resolve to do better in the future. We are, after all, unenlightened beings in training, and so the occasional hiccup with one of the precepts is understandable.

The problem is that some people who purport to be Buddhists simply disregard the precept. They dredge up a slew of excuses as to why they shouldn’t keep it; reel off a million reasons why it’s all right to drink; or worse: claim the precept doesn’t mean abstention at all, and re-write it because it’s not the way they want it to be, calling theirs an ‘interpretation’ when it’s just a distortion in fancy dress. And to top it all off, some of them are intent on broadcasting their opinions to the world:

It’s all right to drink in moderation!

The precept doesn’t mean avoid it completely; it means don’t get drunk!

If I can still stand after a night out I’m not breaking it!

If I drink mindfully I’m OK!

It’s only the monks and nuns who are meant to be tee-total!

And, after all, the Buddha taught the Middle Way! The wise approach is to find that mindful balance between abstention and alcoholism!

Plus, times have changed! The precept was laid down over two thousand years…

Blah, blah, blah, blah.

See – Defilements. That’s what’s talking there. Plain and simple. Crafty, cunning, conniving defilements, sniffing and scratching and searching for a loop-hole in this precept.

What many people don’t realise is that it’s precisely these reactions, resistances, and desires to have things our own way that we as Buddhists are meant to observe and understand – not follow. If we honour the precepts we can do this; if we don’t, we can’t.

I’ll never forget the time when a certain man came here to talk about becoming a Buddhist prison chaplain. During these interviews the candidate is always asked what their take on the fifth precept is. As a chaplain, virtually every prisoner they’ll see will be locked up because of crimes relating to alcohol and drug abuse. It is thus essential that the chaplain himself abstains completely: what kind of moral example would he be setting if he was using the very same substances that had landed his charges behind bars?

So this man was asked the question and an impassioned reply followed. He related how he was from a certain country where drink is a vital thread in the fabric of the culture. And how at Christmas, when he’s sat around the family table, it would be unthinkable to refuse a glass of the sacred nectar. Can we imagine the suffering that would be wrought if he passed over the punch? Is it possible to comprehend the anguish that would arise if he glugged not the Guinness? So he couldn’t abstain. No: drinking alcohol at such a time, was, he assured us – and I quote – ‘the most skilful thing’ he could do.

Pull the other one.

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* Suramerayamajjapamadatthana veramani sikkhapadam samadiyami, “I undertake the training rule to abstain from fermented and distilled intoxicants which are the basis for heedlessness.”  (“Going for Refuge & Taking the Precepts”, by Bhikkhu Bodhi. Access to Insight, October 3, 2010, http://www.accesstoinsight.org/lib/authors/bodhi/wheel282.html )

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Well, I’ve had one of those weeks. Dukkha. For some reason it just hits you sometimes. Anyway, I’ve been through it before and so I know what to do: hang in there, endure, and wait for it to pass. Because it does pass. It all passes*.

When you become more aware of the Noble Truth of Dukkha it is often in an experiential way. So you actually experience suffering more acutely. You become more aware of the unsatisfactory nature of life.

“WHY!!!???” I yelled in my kuti the other night.

“WHY AM I HERE!!!???…

WHAT’S THE POINT!!!???…

WHAT KIND OF SICK JOKE IS THIS!!!???…

LOOK AT THIS WORLD!!!…

PEOPLE ARE BORN, THEY GET OLD, THEY GET SICK, AND THEY DIE !!!…

WHOOPEEEE!!!…

WHAT A PARTY!!!…

ARRRGHHHHHHHH!!!”

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[...]

I’ve decided not to continue with the series of five posts on meditation that I’d planned. I’ve learnt that it’s not always a good idea to say you’ll be writing / talking about something several weeks from now. It can kill spontaneity. (Plus I’m fed up of talking about the plane!)

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Playing with Toys in a House that’s Burning Down

Before I became a monk I had an experience which caused an earthquake in the depths of my being and which undoubtedly turned me in the direction of devoting my life to the practice of the Dhamma.

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Pheewww. Sorry folks. Optimism got the better of me. I’m all typed out after the last few days – setting things up here and what have you. Stay tuned though; we’ll have a Christmas special tomorrow!