..续本文上一页told me of the time he had gone with his wife to tap tree sap deep in a large forest. They happened to run into a bear, and a fight ensued. The wife was able to get up a tree in time and then called down to her husband, ”If you can”t fight it off, lie down and play dead. Don”t make a move.”

　　When her husband heard this, he came to his senses and so fell back on the ground, lying absolutely still. Seeing this, the bear climbed up astride him, but then let go of him and simply stood looking at him. The old man lay there on his back, meditating on the word, ”buddho, buddho,” and thinking, ”I”m not going to die. I”m not going to die.” The bear pulled at his legs and then at his head, and then used its nuzzle to push him left and right. The old man kept his joints loose and didn”t react in any way. After the bear had decided that the man was dead, it left. A moment or so later the man got up and walked home with his wife. His head was all battered and bloody, but he didn”t die.

　　When he had finished telling me the story, he added, ”That”s the way forest animals have to be. If you can”t fight, you have to play dead.”

　　Hearing this, the thought occurred to me, ”No one is interested in a dead person. Since I live in the forest, I should play dead. Whoever praises me or attacks me, I”ll have to be still — quiet in thought, word and deed — if I want to survive.” This can also be a good reminder in the way of the Dhamma: To free yourself from death, you have to play dead. This is a good lesson in maranassati, keeping death in mind.

　　Another time, early one morning when I was staying in the middle of a large forest, I took my followers out for alms. As we were going through the forest, I heard a mother chicken cry, ”Kataak! Kataak!” Since she didn”t fly away, I figured she probably had some baby chicks, so I sent the boys to run and look. This frightened the chicken and she flew away over the trees. The boys saw a lot of baby chicks running around, but before they could catch them, the chicks scurried into a large pile of fallen leaves. There they hid themselves and lay absolutely still. The boys took a stick and stirred around in the leaves, but the chicks didn”t move. They didn”t even make a peep. Although the boys kept looking for a while, they couldn”t find even a single chick. I knew that the chicks hadn”t gone anywhere. They had just pretended to be fallen leaves. So as it turned out, of all those little tiny chicks, we couldn”t catch a one.

　　Thinking about this, I was struck by their instincts for self-preservation, and how clever they were: They simply kept themselves quiet in a pile of fallen leaves. And so I made a comparison for myself: ”When you”re in the wilds, then if you can keep your mind still like the baby chicks, you”re sure to be safe and to free yourself from dying.” This was another good lesson.

　　In addition to the animals, there are other aspects of nature — such as trees and vines — that can set you thinking. Take vines, for instance. There are some that don”t turn in any direction but right. Observing this, I”ve made it a lesson for myself. ”If you”re going to take your mind to the highest good, you”ll have to act like the vines: i.e., always to the right, for the Buddha taught, ”Kaya-kammam, vaca-kammam, mano-kammam padakkhinam” — going to the right in thought, word and deed. You”ll always have to go right — by keeping yourself above the defilements that flare up and consume the heart. Otherwise you”ll be no match even for a vine.”

　　Some kind of trees make themselves quiet in ways we can see: We say that they ”sleep.” At night, they fold up their leaves. If you go lie under them, you”ll have a clear view of the stars in the nighttime sky. But when day comes, they”ll spread out their leaves and give a dense shade. Thi…

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