Autobiography 03

Phra Nirōdharaṅsī Gambhirapaññāvisiṭṭha
Luang Pu Thate Desaraṅsī
Wat Hin Mak Peng, Si Chiang Mai District, Nong Khai Province

Auspicious signs and Dhamma knowledge arising in childhood

During this period — perhaps because my life was about to step into youth, I don't know — my father became especially interested in me. After finishing the evening meal (around 7 or 8 p.m.), he would often find topics and draw moral examples, whether worldly or Dhamma-related, to teach me. Sometimes he would ask questions to probe my opinions, such as: "If you like women and are going to marry, what kind of woman would you marry?" I still remember my answer: "I like women with fair yellowish skin, smooth round flesh, and who are polite and proper in body, speech, and mind. Lineage is not much of an issue, but if they have good lineage, even better."

One day, I fell asleep at night and had a dream vision: I was together with several friends, leaving the house to roam the rice fields, as children in those days did. At that moment, two meditation monks came walking along, carrying their alms bowls and bearing their umbrella-tents. Seeing me, one of them ran straight toward me. I was afraid and ran for my life without a second thought. My friends remained indifferent, as if nothing was happening. Since that was the case, my ultimate refuge was home and my parents. But when I ran up into the house and called for my parents to help, they too were indifferent, as if nothing was happening. The meditation monk kept running after me without stopping, getting closer and closer. I ran into the bedroom and ducked under the mosquito net. He barged right in, lifted the net, and struck me with full force using a whip. I jolted awake in fright. Regaining my senses, I was trembling, drenched in sweat. My heart was still pounding. The spot where the monk had struck me still felt burning. I thought it was real; I rubbed my hand over it and still thought it was real.

Only when I composed my mind and carefully reviewed the sequence of events until my mind calmed and the fear subsided did the whole affair gradually settle down. I forgot about this matter for a long time, until I went forth on the practice of dwelling at the foot of trees as a meditation monk with my teacher. The future events of my life corresponded perfectly with this vision in every way.

Another matter around the same time — this was not a dream vision, but one night I could not sleep until late because I was reflecting deeply on the kindness of my parents. I thought and considered: Our parents raised us, ten children, through great hardship and difficulty until we grew up. Before long, these children, when they marry and have families, will all disperse to live their own separate lives. Thinking up to this point made me think of my parents: "Eh? Who will take care of my parents?" Without thinking about the future as a child normally would, I was filled with a deep sense of sadness and pity for my parents, so much so that I sobbed, tears soaking my pillow. This condition lasted quite a long time. The more I thought, the more my heart ached for them. Eventually, I made a decision on my own: "When I grow up, I will not marry like them. When they disperse and leave home, I alone will take full care of my parents." Having made that decision by myself, I felt fulfilled and delighted. It was late, so I fell asleep.

All Dhammas exist within each of us. The knower of Dhamma is the heart. Whether one knows much or little, coarsely or subtly, depends on one's ability, merit, paramī, or personal cultivation.

My decision that time came from gratitude, from deep recollection of the kindness of those who were kind to me.

Another night, similarly, I lay thinking, tracing through the work and livelihood of the villagers. Starting around March-April, they have to clear the forest, make dry swidden fields, set fire to them, dig up roots and stumps, build fences. When the rains come, they must plant various crops as needed. At the same time, if a family doesn't have enough people, they must divide their time to plow the rice fields and sow seedlings. They continue like this until the seedlings are mature enough to transplant, then they transplant directly.

This is for years when the rains are normal. In a dry year, they lose much time and suffer great losses. Additionally, most housewives must prepare sufficient provisions — rice, chilies, salt, pla ra (fermented fish), tobacco — so that when they start rice farming, they need not worry about procuring supplies.

Normally, if the rains are good, rice farming finishes around August or extends into September. After transplanting, everyone gathers supplies in preparation for the harvest. They also prepare tools for catching fish in the dry season. When the Rains Retreat ends, they start harvesting rice. Sometimes before harvesting the wet-rice crop, they must first harvest the dry swidden rice. At the same time, they also gather other crops such as chilies, cotton, and beans. In those days when wet-rice farming was still good, harvesting usually finished around the end of January, then they brought the rice up to the barns in early February. While harvesting, they must also split bamboo strips at night for binding the sheaves. After finishing the rice farming, they then have to find firewood to boil sugarcane juice.

For boiling sugarcane juice: every afternoon they must cut enough sugarcane for the next day's boiling. After cutting, they carry it — those with oxcarts use carts — to bring it to the sugarcane boiling shed. Waking before dawn, they must go to crush the sugarcane until finished, which takes until late morning. If there are not enough hands, it gets very late, so they must have some people prepare food in advance. After finishing the crushing, they gather to eat, then each goes to their own duties, leaving only the person tending the sugarcane juice pots. Some households have a great deal of sugarcane juice; by the time they finish, it is already time to go back into the forest to clear swidden fields again.

My, that night — why did I review and sequence the work that the adults were doing in such precise and thorough detail? It made my heart shrink and filled me with compassion for the lives of people who are born. They truly have no opportunity and no free time. Born into this world, there is only doing and doing. The only differences are in each person's duties and status. If they have not yet fallen asleep or died, they must keep doing this endlessly. This was completely opposite to my previous childish intoxication, when I thought, "How fun this world is!" Because children in those days had no education and no responsibilities. After eating, they just played and had fun with friends. Even if they had to tend cattle or buffalo, that was also fun for them.

That night, I saw clearly with my own heart the suffering of human beings born into this world, in a way I had never thought or seen before. However, that seeing of suffering only saw that humans are born into suffering because of the need to feed their mouths and stomachs, with no free time any day. But I did not yet know what to do to escape those sufferings. Therefore, it did not constitute the Dukkha Ariya Sacca (Noble Truth of Suffering); it was merely dukkha sacca (the truth of suffering) in an ordinary sense.