Monastic Life, Search for Dhamma, and Practice When he reached the age of 20, in 1925, his stepmother passed away. At that time, he was staying with relatives in Bang Len District, Nakhon Pathom Province. Toward the end of February, he returned to his father’s home, where his father encouraged him to ordain. At that time, he had about 160 Baht with him. When he arrived back home, his elder brothers, brothers-in-law, sisters, and relatives came to visit and ask about his life. Some asked to borrow money to buy buffaloes, some to buy rice fields, and others for trading. He gave them money as requested, as he had already decided to ordain. Of the original 160 Baht, only 40 Baht remained. When the ordination season arrived, his father made the arrangements, and he was ordained on the full moon day of the sixth lunar month. On that same day, nine men were ordained together. During his second rains retreat, he made a firm resolution: “At this time, I still have good intentions and goodwill toward the Buddhist religion. From this point onward, may I meet a teacher who conducts himself well and practices rightly within three months.” Later, in November during the waning moon, he went to deliver a Mahachat sermon at Wat Ban Non Rang Yai, Yang Yophap Subdistrict, Muang Sam Sip District. There, he encountered a meditation monk preaching from the pulpit. The Dhamma he heard was deeply inspiring and stirred something unusual within his mind. He asked the laypeople who the monk was and where he had come from. They replied, “He is a disciple of Phra Ajahn Mun, named Ajahn Bot.” The monk was staying in a large dipterocarp forest about twenty sen from the village. After the Mahachat ceremony ended, he went to observe the monk’s way of practice. Seeing his conduct, he felt deeply satisfied and asked who his teachers were. The monk replied, “Phra Ajahn Mun and Phra Ajahn Sao. At this time, Phra Ajahn Mun has left Sakon Nakhon Province and is staying at Wat Burapha in Ubon Ratchathani Province.” Hearing this, he quickly returned home, thinking to himself, “Surely my hope will be fulfilled.” A few days later, he asked permission from his father and his preceptor to leave. Both tried to discourage him in every possible way, but he had already made a firm decision: “I must leave this village no matter what. If I am to disrobe, I must go. If I am to remain a monk, I must go. My preceptor and my father have no authority over this. If they interfere with my freedom even for a moment, I will leave at that very moment.” Eventually, both his father and preceptor consented. After midday, at around 1:00 PM during the waning moon of the first lunar month, he set out alone with his monk’s requisites. His father walked with him as far as the middle of the rice fields. After saying farewell, each went his own way. That day, he walked through Muang Sam Sip District toward Ubon Ratchathani Province, a distance of more than ten kilometers. By chance, Phra Borikhut, a former district chief of Muang Sam Sip who had been dismissed from government service, happened to drive past and saw him walking alone. Although they did not know each other, he invited him onto the vehicle carrying his family’s belongings and gave him a ride to the airport area of Ubon Ratchathani, on the road toward Ban Kut Lat. Even later, he continued to remember this man’s kindness. At around 5:00 PM, he arrived at the monastery at Wat Pa Ban Kut Lat. There, he learned that Phra Ajahn Mun had returned to stay at Wat Burapha. The next morning, after his meal, he walked back to Ubon Ratchathani and went to pay respects to Phra Ajahn Mun, explaining his purpose. Phra Ajahn Mun kindly gave him guidance and taught him the meditation word “Buddho”—just that one word. At that time, Phra Ajahn Mun was ill. He advised him to stay at Ban Tha Wang Hin, a quiet and secluded place. There, Phra Ajahn Sing, Phra Maha Pin, and more than forty monks and novices were staying. He went to listen to their Dhamma talks every night and felt two clear effects arise in his mind: when he reflected on his old life, he felt troubled; when he reflected on his new life, he felt peaceful. These two feelings stayed with him constantly. There, he met two sincere companions: Phra Ajahn Kongma and Phra Ajahn Sam. They lived, ate, studied, and discussed Dhamma together, practicing meditation diligently day and night. After staying there for some time, he invited Phra Ajahn Kongma to travel with him. They wandered from place to place, staying at spirit shrines in various villages and districts. Eventually, he returned to his home village to inform his father that he had met Phra Ajahn Mun and felt fully satisfied with his life. He told his father that he would not return to die in that village. He reflected inwardly: “Since I was born human, I must strive to rise above ordinary people. Since I have ordained as a monk, I must strive to rise above the monks I have known.” Feeling that his aspiration had been fulfilled, he told his father: “I am leaving and will not return. I have given away my personal money and belongings. I will have nothing more to do with your property or wealth for the rest of my life.” When his aunt heard this, she criticized him, saying, “Isn’t that going too far?” He replied: “If I disrobe and come to ask you for rice to eat, then you may call me a dog.” Having made such a firm decision, he told his father: “Do not worry about me. Whether I remain ordained or eventually disrobe, I am already satisfied with the treasure I received from you: two eyes, two ears, a nose, a mouth, and a complete body of thirty-two parts. This is the greatest treasure. Even if you gave me other wealth, it would not satisfy my heart.” After saying this, he left his father and returned to Ubon Ratchathani Province. Reaching Ban Wang Tham, he found Phra Ajahn Mun staying in the forest and remained there with him for several days of training. He traveled and wandered every year after the rains retreat. He did this because he felt that staying fixed in one temple was like a train parked motionless at Hua Lamphong Station. What benefit does a train have if it never moves? In the same way, he felt he could not remain in one place. As long as he remained ordained, he would have to continue traveling throughout his life. Later, he considered: “I must reordain in the Dhammayut Order and wash away the old stains.” After consulting Phra Ajahn Mun, who approved, he practiced the ordination recitations. Once prepared, he followed Phra Ajahn Mun on journeys through various places. His faith in Phra Ajahn Mun grew greatly because he witnessed many extraordinary things. For example, matters he had only thought in his mind and had never mentioned were correctly pointed out by Phra Ajahn Mun. This increased his respect and devotion even further. His meditation became firm, and many of his worries fell away. After training with him for four months, Phra Ajahn Mun arranged for him to reordain at Wat Burapha in Ubon Ratchathani Province. Phra Panyaphisan Thera (Nu) of Wat Sra Pathum in Bangkok served as preceptor, Phra Ajahn Peng of Wat Tai in Ubon Ratchathani served as the chanting teacher, and Phra Ajahn Mun ordained him first as a novice. He received full reordination on May 27, 1927. One day after ordination, he began observing strict dhutanga practices, eating only one meal a day. After spending one night at Wat Burapha, he returned to stay in the forest at Ban Tha Wang Hin as before. At times, fellow monks criticized this way of conduct, while at other times they praised it. But he felt that in every case it brought benefit, because it allowed him to learn about geography, events, customs, and Buddhist traditions in different places. In some places, he might be less knowledgeable than others; in other communities, other monks might be better than him. Therefore, traveling was never a loss. Sitting quietly in the forest brought benefit. If people in an area were less knowledgeable, he could teach them. If they were wiser, he could become their student. Thus, traveling was always beneficial. Another reason he enjoyed staying in forests was that it gave rise to many reflections: 1. Going on alms round should be taken as a regular practice. One presents oneself as one who asks, but the Buddha did not teach monks to behave like beggars. Whatever people give, one should be content with that. 2. The Buddha taught monks to stay in secluded places, called rukkhamula senasana: forests, abandoned houses, meeting halls, rocky shelters, caves, and other quiet places. He wondered what benefit the Buddha saw in such places, but trusted that if they had no benefit, the Buddha would not have taught it. 3. The Buddha taught the use of discarded cloth, even cloth used to wrap corpses, as robes. This made him reflect on death. Dead things are not desired by anyone, and what is dead is harmless. This led him to understand that the Buddha taught monks not to be proud or attached to material gains. 4. The Buddha taught monks to use simple medicines, such as fermented urine. Hearing such teachings made him deeply interested. Whether or not he fully understood their results, he had firm confidence that the Buddha was not deluded. The Buddha would never teach anything without reason. Therefore, he reflected that even if he did not yet fully understand the Buddha’s teachings, he should first follow them as a way of preserving the tradition of those worthy of respect. He also reflected on the words of Phra Maha Kassapa, who strictly observed dhutanga practices such as living in the forest, eating one meal a day, and wearing discarded cloth. The Buddha once asked Phra Maha Kassapa: “You are already free from defilements. For what purpose do you still make such effort?” Phra Maha Kassapa replied: “I do this for the benefit of future generations, not for my own benefit. If I do not practice in this way, who will serve as an example? Teaching people is easier when there is an example, just as books use illustrations to help students understand.” Reflecting on these words, he felt deep admiration and compassion for Phra Maha Kassapa. In worldly terms, Phra Maha Kassapa could have lived like a wealthy man, sleeping on fine bedding and eating refined food. Instead, he endured hardship, sleeping on the ground and eating simple food. Compared with such a noble disciple, how could he himself seek only comfort and material ease? This reflection made him feel ashamed. All of these matters became reminders from the very beginning of his monastic life. Regarding forest dwelling, he found it deeply striking and instructive. At times, he came close to death and received many lessons from people, animals, and nature in the forest. Once, an elderly husband and wife went into a deep forest to collect resin from dipterocarp trees. They encountered a large bear and a struggle began. The wife climbed a tree and shouted to her husband, “If you cannot fight it, lie down on your back and stay still like a dead person. Do not move.” Hearing this, the husband regained his presence of mind and collapsed motionless on the ground. The bear climbed over him but stopped attacking. It looked at him as he lay still. The old man silently repeated “Buddho, Buddho” and thought, “I will not die.” The bear pulled his legs and head and pushed his body from side to side with its mouth, but he remained limp and motionless. Believing him to be dead, the bear eventually left. The old man survived with only wounds on his head. From this story, he reflected that no one wants a dead person. A forest monk should make himself like a dead person. Whatever others say—good or bad—one must keep body, speech, and mind still. This became a powerful Dhamma reflection: “One who would escape death must make himself like one already dead.” Another time, while staying in a large forest, he went on alms round with a young disciple. Passing through the forest, they heard a mother hen crying “ka-tak, ka-tak.” From the sound, he knew it was a mother with chicks, because she did not fly away. He sent the disciple to look. The mother hen flew over a tall tree, and many chicks ran into a pile of fallen leaves. Then they became completely still. Even when the disciple stirred the leaves with a stick, they did not move. The disciple searched for some time but could not find even one chick. He thought to himself that they had not escaped anywhere; they had simply made themselves like fallen leaves. From this, he reflected on the intelligence of animals in protecting themselves. They made themselves still and silent among the fallen leaves. He compared this with his own practice: “If I stay in the forest and keep my mind still like those chicks, I will surely be safe and free from death.” Nature also taught him through trees, vines, and animals. Some vines always wind clockwise around trees, never turning the other way. Seeing this, he reflected that if one wishes to progress toward supreme goodness, one must follow the path of auspicious conduct. The Buddha taught that bodily action, verbal action, and mental action should be “rightly directed.” Therefore, one must move in the right direction, rising above the defilements that invade the mind. Some trees display stillness visibly. At night, certain trees fold their leaves and branches so that one sleeping beneath them can clearly see the stars and moon. During the day, their leaves spread thickly and provide shade. This reminded him that when one meditates with closed eyes, the eyes may close, but the mind should remain bright and clear, like a sleeping tree at night. Through such reflections, he saw the great benefit of living in the forest. The Dhamma he had studied, as well as Dhamma he had never studied, arose naturally within him because nature itself became his teacher. He thought of worldly science: many great discoveries were not originally found in textbooks or universities but came from observing nature. Dhamma, too, exists in nature. Reflecting in this way, he no longer worried about formal study. He also gained knowledge from plants. Some trees release substances beneficial to the body, while others are harmful. At times, when he was ill with fever, sitting under certain trees caused the fever to disappear. At other times, when he felt well, sitting under other trees disturbed the body’s elements. Sometimes, when hungry or thirsty, sitting under certain trees caused those sensations to disappear. This reminded him of traditional medicine and the reverence for hermits, who had not studied medicine from books but learned through direct knowledge of nature. Water, earth, and air also taught in the same way. Seeing this, he became less concerned with medicines, realizing that remedies exist everywhere. Whether one knows them or not depends on oneself. Beyond this, there is another medicine: the power of a calm mind. The more the mind can be stilled, the greater its quality becomes. This is called the “medicine of Dhamma.” In summary, the benefits he received from living in secluded forests for mental practice allowed him to clearly understand and remove doubts about the teachings of the Buddha. For this reason, he resolved to devote himself to the work of insight meditation until the end of his life. Dhamma Teachings One who would escape death must make himself like one already dead. One who fears death will be born and die again. One who would escape existence must enter and understand existence. One who would transcend birth must understand oneself. If people have right understanding, practice is not beyond their ability. One who will attain the path, fruit, and Nibbana must cultivate the mind. Without this inner practice, no matter how much merit one performs, one cannot reach the path, fruit, and Nibbana. Nibbana is attained through the practice of the mind: virtue, concentration, and wisdom. Virtue gives rise to concentration. Concentration gives rise to wisdom. Wisdom gives rise to liberation. Concentration is essential because it is the foundation of wisdom and knowledge, which are vital factors of the path. Without concentration, one can only think and imagine, becoming scattered and lacking a firm foundation. Final Reflections From the time he began practicing insight meditation in 1926 until 1959, his life was guided by this aspiration. He trained and taught disciples in many provinces and established practice centers to support Buddhist communities. In Chanthaburi Province, he established eleven centers. In Nakhon Ratchasima, there were two or three practice centers. There was one in Sisaket, and many meditation monks in Surin. Ubon Ratchathani had several centers. He also traveled to teach in Nakhon Phanom, Sakon Nakhon, Udon Thani, Khon Kaen, Loei, Chaiyaphum, Phetchabun, Prachinburi, Rayong, Trat, Lopburi, Chai Nat, Tak, Nakhon Sawan, and Phitsanulok. Some places had established centers, while others were visited only temporarily for training and instruction. He also traveled through Saraburi, Uttaradit, Lampang, Chiang Rai, Chiang Mai, Nakhon Nayok, Nakhon Pathom, Ratchaburi, Phetchaburi, Prachuap Khiri Khan, Chumphon, Surat Thani, Nakhon Si Thammarat, Phatthalung, Songkhla, and Yala. After each rains retreat, he traveled regularly to visit old disciples of his teachers, never neglecting them. At times, he also withdrew to practice for his own benefit. He first ordained in 1925 and reordained in 1927. After reordination, he spent six rains retreats in Ubon Ratchathani, three at Wat Sra Pathum in Bangkok, two in Chiang Mai, two in Nakhon Ratchasima, one in Prachinburi, fourteen in Chanthaburi, one at Wat Khuan Mit in Songkhla after returning from India through Burma, three at Wat Boromniwat, and four at Wat Asokaram after the passing of Somdet Phra Mahawirawong (Uan). His fourth rains retreat at Wat Asokaram was in 1959. He became seriously ill beginning on December 30, 1959, and continued to suffer illness until his passing on April 26, 1961, at the age of 54 years and 3 months.