..续本文上一页o of unawareness

　　 It”d be very hard.

　　"As I see it," I went on, "most students of the Dhamma really misconstrue things. Whatever comes springing up, they try to cut it down and wipe it out. To me, this seems wrong. It”s like people who eat eggs. Some people don”t know what a chicken is like: This is unawareness. As soon as they get hold of an egg, they crack it open and eat it. But say they know how to incubate eggs. They get ten eggs, eat five of them and incubate the rest. While the eggs are incubating, that”s "becoming." When the baby chicks come out of their shells, that”s "birth." If all five chicks survive, then as the years pass it seems to me that the person who once had to buy eggs will start benefiting from his chickens. He”ll have eggs to eat without having to pay for them, and if he has more than he can eat he can set himself up in business, selling them. In the end he”ll be able to release himself from poverty.

　　"So it is with practicing samadhi: If you”re going to release yourself from becoming, you first have to go live in becoming. If you”re going to release yourself from birth, you”ll have to know all about your own birth."

　　As soon as I said this, he understood and began to beam. He seemed both pleased and impressed. "The way you say things," he said, "is really different from the way other meditation monks talk. Even though I still can”t put what you say into practice, I can understand you clearly and have no doubts that what you”re saying is true. I used to live near Ajaan Mun and Ajaan Sao, but I never benefited from them the way I”ve benefited from having you stay with me. There seem to be a lot of surprising things that occur when I sit in meditation."

　　After that he seemed to be interested in meditating for long periods of time — sometimes two hours at a stretch. While he was meditating, he”d have me speak Dhamma to go along with his meditation. As soon as his mind would be quiet and steady, I”d start speaking — and his mind seemed to behave right in line with what I”d be saying. One day he said, "I”ve been ordained for a long time, but I”ve never felt anything like this."

　　From then on I never had to give him any more long talks. As soon as I”d say two or three words, he”d understand what I was referring to. As for me, I was pleased. One day he said, "People who study and practice the Dhamma get caught up on nothing more than their own opinions, which is why they never get anywhere. If everyone understood things correctly, there wouldn”t be anything impossible about practicing the Dhamma."

　　As I spent the rains there with the Somdet my mind was at ease as far as having to explain things to him was concerned. He told me, "In the past I never thought that practicing samadhi was in any way necessary." Then he added, "The monks and novices — and the lay people as well — haven”t benefited enough from having you here. If you can, I”d like you to find the time to teach them too."

　　He then informed the senior monks in the temple of his intention, and this was how the meditation-training sessions at Uruphong Hall came about. The first year, 1953, a number of lay people, monks and novices from other temples came and joined in the sessions. Thao Satyanurak came to stay at Nekkhamma House, the home for nuns at the temple, and practiced meditation with good results. Her mind gave rise to such unusual realizations that she decided to stay on at Wat Boromnivasa until her death.

　　At the end of the rainy season I took leave of the Somdet to go out wandering in the provinces. His illness by that time had abated somewhat. That year I returned to Wat Boromnivasa in time for Visakha Puja.

　　That night I went to sit in meditation in the ordination hall, and there was another event: I saw relics of the Buddha come and appear. Ear…

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