The Teaching of Ajahn Suchart.
5 October 2023
“Deciding to Ordain.”
I was ordained on February 19, 1975. Four people attended my ceremony: my parents, my sister and a cousin from Chulalongkorn University who heard about it and accompanied her. I was ordained with the generalʼs son who had just graduated from Long Beach in the US and was to be ordained for two weeks.
Hundreds of people attended his ceremony while mine only had four people.
I did not tell anyone else about my ordination because I prefer to do things quietly by myself.
Also, I didnʼt see any reason to tell anyone, since this was a matter that concerned me and not others. For me, I prefer not to make anyone else busy or troubled on my account. If someone were to find out, he might comment or criticize this and that. Then he would want to persuade me not to ordain because he is speaking based on his own thinking. Maybe he thought that I have suffered a major disappointment and wanted to help comfort me by saying one should be hopeful in life, and there was no need to ordain.
Therefore, if I wanted to ordain, it was better not to tell anyone. If I wanted to practice meditation, I had to cut off all ties with other people.
This is because they are just the ways of the world. If I didnʼt have to pay attention, I could be at ease. Itʼs like driving alone on a wide open road without other vehicles in the way. If there is anything to pay attention to, itʼs like having other cars on the road. One has to wait for them or be ready to dodge.
After I ordained, I didnʼt need to concern myself with anyone anymore. But there was a person who had by chance heard about my ordaining and wrote me a telegram saying that he wanted me to work for him.
I said to myself, “Is this crazy or what? I am ordained and still they want me to work again?”
“Beyond Birth”
- - - - - - -
“First Test as a Newly Ordained Monk.”
I had chosen to go to Wat Pa Baan Taad upon the recommendation of a foreign monk. I had no intention to stay there for long, but I just wanted to see what Wat Pa Baan Taad was like and whether I would like the place. At the same time, I also understood that even if I liked it there, I could not be able to stay if I was not granted permission. I did not have much expectation. I was simply seeking a quiet place that allowed me to have time to practice to the fullest—my only goal.
Furthermore, at first, I did not think that having a teacher was essential and assumed that Dhamma books would be sufficient to guide me in this path.
All I knew was that I had to go there. I did not know any highly respected teachers in Thailand or how to find them because I had never read books about the practice of Dhammayuttika-nikāya monks. Most of the books I read were about Bhikkhus (Buddhist monks) mentioned in the Tipiṭaka (Buddhist Pāli Canon).
When I arrived, I went directly to the meeting hall, and it was time to go for alms round.
Luangta had just come down and I went to pay respect to him. Luangta then said that I could not stay there for long. I could only stay temporarily because the Kuṭīs (monks’ dwellings) were all occupied. Luangta did not say anything else. I quickly prepared my requisites and left for morning alms round.
I felt like a newborn baby who had just been introduced into the new world of monkhood.
On the first day of my arrival at the monastery, I realized how incapable I was. At Wat Pa Baan Taad, the walking pace on the way to the village was relaxed, but after alms round it was very fast. I had never walked that fast before.
On the way back, as soon as we went past the last devotee’s home, a monk would immediately help carry Luangta’s alms bowl, and everyone else would then speed walk back to the monastery. It was like a speed-walking competition in the Olympics. I walked with alms bowl full of sticky rice and it was very heavy.
Furthermore, the bag sling for my alms bowl was not tightly secured, and it fell off halfway along my way back to the monastery. I also had to secure my main robe as it had also slipped off my shoulder. I was so disordered that by the time I reached Sālā (meeting hall), everyone else had already started arranging the food collected from the alms round.
Luangta must have noticed my disorderliness, yet he showed Mettā (loving-kindness) and did not make any comments. For those who were new in the monastery, Luangta appeared to be lenient, even pretending to be indifferent. Only when a new monk seriously misbehaved would he reprimand directly. Luangta’s attention was on the monk’s determination to practice.
For other matters such as being slow but still being able to perform one’s duties correctly, Luangta would not say anything.
Typically about one month before the beginning of Vassa, or the rains retreat, Luangta would decide which monks would be the Vassa residents, that is, who would dwell permanently throughout the three months of the rainy season. He would usually accept about fifteen to sixteen monks. When it came to my turn, Luangta asked me, “You remember, on your first day here, you agreed that you could not stay here for long, that your stay was only temporary, therefore, you would not be allowed to spend the Vassa here?”
After hearing Luangta’s words, I did not know what to do. I did not say anything and was undecided about what to do next.
After that Luangta gave a Dhamma talk for almost two hours. When it ended, all monks paid respect to the Lord Buddha all together.
Then, Luangta surprised me by turning to me and giving me his permission to stay. He announced, “For the monk who came from Wat Bowon, if you would like to stay here, you are allowed to do so.” All other monks who had been staying there started to congratulate me because Luangta did not accept monks to stay with him easily. There were many monks whom Luangta did not permit to stay at the monastery.
Luangta wanted us to see the value of being allowed to stay with him. He wanted us to have the determination to practice meditation. For anything that is easily obtained, we have the tendency to take it for granted, and for anything that is obtained with difficulties, we would have a greater appreciation. For this reason, I was allowed to continue to stay.
A rule practiced at the monastery was that monks who had less than five rains retreats were not allowed to go anywhere, except for emergency reasons. According to the Vinaya (Monastic Code of Disciple), new monks are not allowed to be without a teacher’s guidance.
Luangta would not allow monks to travel here and there, unless the five-year rule was completed. For example, a monk with a two-year rains retreat wanted to go for Dhutaṅga wanderings. In addition to evaluating the suitability of the proposed wanderings, Luangta would consider whether it was beneficial to do so. If he felt that it was not beneficial, Luangta would not give permission to go. There was a monk with two to three rains retreats who wanted to go for Dhutaṅga wanderings, and had asked for permission several times, but Luangta did not allow him to go. When he asked again for the last time, Luangta told him that if he went, he would not be allowed to come back.
Luangta considered the mind of each monk to be more important than the number of Vassas he spent.
Sometimes, a monk, after spending five years of rains retreat, wanted to leave the monastery, but Luangta thought that it was inappropriate for him to go. His practice might deteriorate, or he might even leave the monkhood. If this was the case, Luangta would try to hold him back.
At least, if he stayed in the monastery, he could continue to learn from the Teacher.
I stayed there for five years before leaving on even a short trip.
“My Way.”
By Ajahn Suchart Abhijāto
YouTube: Dhamma in English.
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCi_BnRZmNgECsJGS31F495g
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