From Venerable Ajahn Khemadhammo

A quarter of a century ago, not long after my pilgrimage to the Buddhist Holy Places of Northern India and within days of my arrival at the gates of Wat Pah Pong, I was shipped off, along with just about everyone else, to Wat Tum Saeng Pet where we were to prepare for and take part in the grand opening and offering to the Sangha of the huge new mountain-top sala or meeting hall. The ceremonies, spanning three nights, were timed to coincide with the festival of Magha Puja - the occasion when another great gathering of the Sangha is remembered - at the Vulture’s Peak in Northern India with the Buddha himself present. Then, without any kind of prior arrangement, on the Full Moon of Magha, one thousand, two-hundred-and-fifty Arahants, all personal disciples of the Buddha and all ordained by him, appeared at the Vulture’s Peak and seated in their midst the Buddha recited a short summary of his teaching known as the Ovada Patimokkha. I well remember during those nights at Tum Saeng Pet, watching, from my lowly position at the edge of the assembly, and seeing Ajahn Chah surrounded by a vast gathering of monks and novices and imagining how in the distant past an assembly of bhikkhus sitting with all attention focussed on the Buddha might have been just like this. And still when I attend large Sangha gatherings I find myself imagining that my experience now mirrors what happened then, two-and-a-half thousand years ago.

It used to be that we would meet with Ajahn Chah seated, just like the Buddha, at the centre; and then he was no longer there and we had his passing and then his funeral; and over a period of time we’ve had to get used to assembling without him. We have to go on and we must learn to manage as both he and before him, the Buddha, would have wished. While continuing to respect our elders, it is the whole group, the Sangha, to which we are responsible and which should be the decision making body, with reasoned argument and friendly persuasion our means to consensus and agreement.

I go back every year in January not only because that’s a climatically convenient time - it breaks up the winter here, and over there it’s not too hot and uncomfortable - but because five years ago it was at 5.20 a.m. on January 16th (or 10.20 p.m. on January 15th here) that Ajahn Chah breathed his last and that anniversary has been observed at Wat Pah Pong by huge numbers of Sangha members and laity ever since. At first it was supposed to be a predominately Sangha meeting, but the emphasis has gradually shifted to a kind of seven day retreat mostly for the laity. Out of respect and loyalty to Ajahn Chah and because I felt I wanted to play my part in ensuring that what he had built would continue, I decided some time ago that if it was at all possible I would be at Wat Pah Pong every year for January 16th. Aside from continuing to try and live and practise, here and wherever I am, in the way that I became accustomed to at Wat Pah Pong, and occasionally to remind people of the principles on which the Wat Pah Pong tradition was built, there is probably little more I can do to contribute to the maintenance of Ajahn Chah’s legacy - but at least I can do that.

The casual visitor who knows nothing of the diversity of traditions, practice and attitudes to be found within Thai Buddhism will seldom have seen more than the ornate exteriors of town and city wats and is likely to have been surprised by their fairs and elaborate ceremonies. To such people the strict practice of remote forest wats and the silent meditation practised by scores of devout lay-people in their homes and workplaces remains hidden and unknown. Even some traditional Buddhists are inclined only to think of the wat as a place to make merit and never investigate its true purpose. Someone who started coming here a few years ago has confessed in an article that recently appeared in ‘Kow Sote’, a leading Thai daily paper, that that’s how she thought of Wat Pah Santidhamma, the Forest Hermitage, until she began listening to my tapes and reading some of Ajahn Chah’s talks. Her article has focussed especially on our efforts in the prisons, because that too is inclined to be hidden and unnoticed. It was even commented on while I was in Thailand that what I do isn’t much seen. Prisons are after all secure and secret places and it’s difficult to show what goes on in them. But there are occasional documentaries and the few minutes we had on a schools television broadcast in January appears to have been quite well received.

Although the so called ‘Forest Tradition’ is often thought of as being a relatively recent phenomenon, in reality there have always been bhikkhus who’ve wandered and favoured living in remote forest hideaways, even the Buddha himself spent much of his life in the open, sheltered only by the trees, and the observance of the austerities was praised by such as the great Maha Kassapa who continued with these hardships right into his old-age. In Thailand it was Pra Ajahn Mun who revived and popularised this practice and Pra Ajahn Chah who brought to it his own flair for attracting and managing large numbers, and a warmth and humour special to him. The thirteen dhutangas are austerities permitted in addition to the Patimokkha rule that all bhikkhus are supposed to follow, and the observation of some of these is characteristic of forest monks and monasteries to this day. These dhutangas are sometimes termed ‘bitter practices’ and are useful in restraining and overcoming certain kinds of kilesa. Usually and most obviously observed are ‘one-sessioner’s practice’, that is eating only once a day at one session; and ‘bowl-food-eater’s practice’ when all the almsfood is taken in the one bowl. These are not practices reserved for just when it’s convenient, but the normal routine and a welcome addition to the discipline. Forest bhikkhus then are those who observe the discipline strictly, who live in remote places, who meditate, who observe some of the austerities and who understand their lifestyle as a meditation practice in itself.

Since I haven’t lived in Thailand for almost twenty years, there are now many branch monasteries of Wat Pah Pong and a number of younger bhikkhus unknown to me and lately I’ve felt that I should try and remedy this deficiency. So now when I go back, as well as going to Wat Pah Pong and visiting old friends like Pra Ajahn Dang at Numyeun and Pra Ajahn Tongjun at Waritchaphum I also try to go to places I’ve never been before.

Many years ago when I used to stay at Wat Keun near the border with Laos, young, newly ordained Pra Tongjun came to stay. In those days I used to walk sometimes to the border village at Chongmek for alms. Leaving in the early hours of the morning it used to take about four and a half hours there and back. Pra Ajahn Tongjun still talks about how hard it was to keep up with me then - he used to say it nearly made him cry. This year though he had his revenge. He took me on a hike around his beautiful cave and mountain monastery and although I might plead that I was still feeling the effects of jet-lag and that I wasn't quite used to the climate I think time and tide may have had something to do with my lagging behind!

When we left there we drove for eleven hours practically non-stop all the way down to Rayong to another branch of Wat Pah Pong. Pra Ajahn Kusalo, who is English, Pra Ajahn Anan, the abbot, some other monks and lay supporters had called here when they were in Britain last summer. And they have since arranged for a bronze statue of Pra Ajahn Chah to be sent here. So I was anxious to visit them and, of course, I was curious to see their wat. There are two particular settings that appeal to me, mountains and sea, and they almost have them both. The wat is on the side of a big hill and from the upper reaches of the wat you can see the sea sparkling in the distance. From there we went on a trip and at Sattahip visited the huge Buddha-Image that in gold outline is being engraved into the sheer side of a mountain. We saw other things as well, but that had a simplicity and impact that has stayed with me. And we also visited a garden dedicated to the 'Shakespeare of Thailand' and had a little walk along the seashore.

After that I went down to Hatyai and again stayed at the Wat Pah Pong branch there with the monk who doesn't talk - at least not for a while. He'd just completed the second year of his three year silence. From there I went to Trang to visit Yome Pranee's brother and was taken on a very welcome boat trip around the spectacular islands that rear up out of the sea off that coast.

Then it was back to Bangkok and the traffic and an attempt to see Somdet Pra Buddhajahn at Wat Saket. I was actually staying over at Chachoengsao with Pra Maha Sompoch and we went together one afternoon in to Wat Saket. When we arrived it wasn't convenient then to see Somdet and so for a few minutes we hung around by the car near where some workmen were obviously doing something at the back of a building. All of a sudden there was a commotion and three of them emerged hanging on to a huge python which they succeeded in getting into a sack. Then they went back in and came out with another, bigger one, and then another! Later we were very warmly received by Somdet and it is that meeting that is pictured on the front cover.

The following day, late at night, a number of people braved the traffic to come to the airport to see me off. It had all passed so quickly. And now I'm back and picking up the pieces again. As usual, people were wonderfully generous to me and I would just like to record my appreciation of the many kindnesses that were showered on me - the transport and tickets, the gifts and so many things! ANUMODANA!

I'd like to apologise for being a bit slow off the mark with this newsletter and so being unable to give reasonable notice of the Magha Puja celebration that falls on February 23rd. As the weather at this time of year may not be too grand we will understand if you don't feel able to make it.

Speaking of the weather on these special occasions: we do have a big inflatable tent that we can put up, but only if we have enough able-bodied men to manage it. It doesn't take very long and doesn't require any special skill, just a bit of brawn really, but without that we just can't manage it. And we also need some similar manpower to let it down, clean it and fold it up. We badly do need to organise these operations properly and I would be ever so grateful if any of you could help.

We live on the edge of a remnant of the ancient Forest of Arden and within our boundary we are trying to contribute a little bit to its regeneration. We're also conscious of the need to maintain this beautiful place and so on Sunday, March 2nd we're organising a tree and shrub planting day from late morning onwards - wellies, spades and green fingers in abundance, please.

Take care and stay happy!

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