40. Customs and Regulations of the Dhutanga Monks

By Luang Pu Thate Desaraṅsī

November 12, 1985

Today we must speak about customs and regulations, not about meditation practice. As for the customs and regulations of the dhutanga monks, what is called observing dhutanga — "dhutanga" means the practices that are causes for seeking peace, seeking goodness, seeking purity. Thus it is called dhutanga. "Dhuta" means messenger — it is what leads the messenger.

The Buddha spoke of many aspects, thirteen in total. For someone who truly and earnestly undertakes the dhutanga practices, they must have the confidence that maintaining these dhutangas purifies and brightens the mind, genuinely leads to purity, does not lead to greed or excess, does not lead to ambition or arrogance, and does not lead to envy, ill will, or showing off to others. If one does it to gain others' admiration and approval, that is not correct — that is defilement. One who truly aspires to purity must intend to do it for oneself alone, not for others. That is called "true dhutanga."

Going on almsround as a practice is for the purpose of refining one's own defilements, preventing greed and excess — preventing craving, preventing wanting too much. Only taking what fits in the almsbowl — we go on almsround in due order and take only as much as we receive, without yearning for anything outside, without wishing for people to admire and respect us. For example, undertaking the almsround practice and then ordering people to put certain foods into the bowl, specifying that offerings must be this or that — that is no longer dhutanga of fewness, that is still excess.

If we are content with little, earnestly taking things as they come — whether others offer or not, we just do the practice genuinely — that is true almsround. The Buddha limited the practice of almsround in many ways. Those who observe it strictly and earnestly take only what is placed directly into the bowl; they do not accept anything that comes outside the bowl. Moreover, if they return from almsround and have not received anything from the first round, they do not accept any later offering. That is truly strict — that is the meaning of the later resolution. It is called the practice of almsround. Our responsibility ends there; we need not worry or get involved with anything else. We take only that much, without regret — whether we receive or not, no regret at all. That is the dhutanga of almsround.

Eating from the bowl — absolutely nothing apart from the bowl. Only what comes into the bowl is taken. Anything offered afterward is not accepted. Only what is actually in the bowl — however much is in the bowl, that is how much we eat. Eating from the bowl, eating with restraint — not even a little extra is taken. In the past there was debate, for example about quince fruit: when placed in the bowl, the peel itself was considered a second container because the peel encases the fruit flesh. That was a separate argument. Eating from a single container — everything placed directly into the bowl; if others bring things, we do not accept them.

Also eating in one place. If we rise from that place, we do not accept or eat anymore. That means we eat in one sitting. Once we have sat down, nothing else is taken. While standing, it is still acceptable; but once we have sat down, that's the end — the responsibility ends there. Therefore, if laypeople come to make merit and offer food, and we have to get up to distribute food or do other things, that is not very suitable. Besides being unsuitable, it creates disorder. It is better to let others, let the laypeople do it. While we are eating, we should not have to get up. If we eat one meal only, after finishing we do not take any more. Once we rise, we do not take any more. That is eating one meal.

Nowadays this is a bit difficult because we have many kinds of containers — bowls, plates, and various things — everything is cluttered, so we don't know what is what. Single container is no longer single container; one meal is no longer one meal. Everything becomes chaotic.

Especially for me, I don't even know what I am eating — two meals, three meals, I wouldn't know. And single container or two containers — that's not it either. So things have changed now. I therefore do not wish to speak about it. As for myself alone, please do not take me as an example. What I do these days — do not take my practice as an example. If from the beginning I ate one meal from one container, but now laypeople come and bring many kinds of food, and I do not eat from the bowl, and if I do not accept their offerings, that would be unsuitable and improper. If I truly and earnestly took nothing at all, then there would be no issue. But since I am not doing that, I don't know what to do.

For me, eating in that way is my own idea. Especially when it comes to eating, I find it utterly wearisome. I do not want to get involved at all. I want to be alone. I do not want to eat at all. But seeing that there are many fellow monks, I go down to eat with them so that they can feel at ease, and so that the laypeople can feel at ease. The truth is, in my heart, I do not want to eat at all. Now that I am old, it is not like when I was young. As for young people, I don't know what they think — whether they think like me or not, I don't know. This is about eating from the bowl, one meal, one container.

But this one meal, one container is difficult for those who have never done it. Those who have never done it find food from the bowl unappetizing; they see the small extras outside the bowl, various little tidbits, as better, so they cannot bring themselves to eat from the bowl. They need to drink water to get it down. That is the difficulty at that stage. But I have done all those practices — from the beginning, I truly ate from the bowl, truly ate in one seat, truly ate one meal, with moderation, without any longing or regret for other things. My responsibility ended. But in our monastery, it is not like that — there are many groups, many factions, many assemblies.

Still, if one wishes to train and try, one can try. Does it lead to fewness? Does it lead to purity? Does our mind become bright and clean, or does it still think with regret and longing? Or do we still dislike mixed food, unable to swallow? Do those things still exist? Try it and see what happens. This is about eating and consuming.

Now, regarding wearing robes: observing the practice of three robes. Those who observe it strictly, truly, have no bathing cloth — just the three robes. Nothing else outside of that. That might be too strict. We have a bowl and other items that need washing; washing the bowl requires a cloth to dry it. If one observes the three robes strictly, when bathing or using the restroom, without a spare cloth it is difficult. If we are in an open place, a public place like a riverbank, how can a monk bathe without a robe? That might be too strict — it could be an extreme ascetic practice. If we take robes in moderation, appropriate to the situation — the three robes plus a bathing cloth — just enough to cover the body, not practicing for excess, forgetfulness, or display, not for pampering the body — understanding that way might be better.

Then, dwelling in a forest dwelling — this we can still manage, as we have dwelled in the forest. Dwelling in the forest is to avoid mingling and socializing, to avoid troubling one another, to avoid noise and chatter. If one talks about Dhamma, that is somewhat acceptable. But if we dwell alone in a forest dwelling — in the daytime or at night — and then huddle together talking about various things, that is not about fewness, not about refining defilements; it is about accumulating defilements further. One should be careful in one's actions, always aware: "What am I doing? For what purpose at this moment?" If we can constantly reflect like this, it will be good.

As for medicines and remedies we consume — we consume them to alleviate illness and disease. If there is no illness, we drink hot water as usual in the afternoon at the meal hall. That is not for alleviating illness; it is for alleviating hunger, for removing hunger — drinking plain hot water, plain tea. That is not for curing illness. But if we consume for the sake of excess, ambition, fullness, or pleasure — that is for defilements. For example, if we eat everything just because we can — setting up bowls and plates, eating pickled vegetables or leaves of various kinds — seeing that it is allowed, we eat until full — that is excessive, immoderate. If we have a cold or cough, or consume a little to alleviate symptoms, that is somewhat more acceptable.

Regarding the dhutanga practices concerning the four requisites, we should have mindfulness to restrain our minds, not to indulge or become too infatuated, otherwise it becomes a heap of defilements. It becomes such that when mealtime arrives, we think only of that, constantly longing to eat that way. Or when we leave the monastery to go elsewhere, to any place, leaving our fellow monks to go with other groups, then we follow our own preferences day and night, constantly. That is too much — that is not fewness, that is greed and excess.

Therefore, in all actions, please have mindfulness, caution, and restraint right there. That will be most excellent.