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Venerable Ãcariya Mun wandered dhutanga in the northern province of Chiang Mai for many years, spending the annual rains retreat in a different location each year. He spent one rains retreat in each of the following places: Ban Chom Taeng in the Mae Rim district, Ban Pong in the Mae Taeng district, Ban Kloi in the Phrao district, Ban Pu Phraya in the Mae Suai district, and Mae Thong Thip in the Mae Sai district of Chiang Rai province. He also spent rains retreats at Wat Chedi Luang in the city of Chiang Mai; in the mountains of Mae Suai district; and in the neighboring province of Uttaradit. Outside of the retreat period, he wandered extensively through the provinces of Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai for a total of eleven years, making it impossible to give a strict chronological account of all the village communities he passed through on his travels. In the following account, I shall mention by name only those villages having a direct bearing on the story as it unfolds.

Except for his stay at Wat Chedi Luang monastery, Ãcariya Mun always wandered in solitude, staying in the wilderness, mountainous areas where danger was ever-present. It is the exceptional nature of his wandering dhutanga practice and the many insights into Dhamma, that arose along the way, which make Ãcariya Mun’s life story so significant. This strange and wonderful tale is unique among the stories of all the dhutanga monks who wandered alone. Ordinarily, such a lifestyle is believed to be bleak and lonely. Living in an inhospitable environment, oppressed by danger, and unable to eat or sleep normally, the sense of fear can be stifling. But Ãcariya Mun was perfectly content living a solitary existence. He found it conducive to his efforts to remove the kilesas from his heart, having always relied on the method of striving in seclusion to accomplish that goal.

It was only later that other monks began to seek him out. For example, Ãcariya Thet of Tha Bo district in the province of Nong Khai, Ãcariya Saan, and Ãcariya Khao of Wat Tham Klong Phen monastery lived with him for short periods of time. After training them for a while in the way of practice, he sent them off alone to find secluded places in sparsely populated forests where villages were far apart – perhaps at the foot of a mountain, perhaps on a mountain ridge. Villages in that region were quite small, some consisting of only 4 or 5 houses, others 9 to 10 houses – just enough to support an almsround from one day to the next.

The kammaååhãna monks who followed Ãcariya Mun during that period were extremely resolute, fearless individuals. They constantly showed a willingness to put their lives on the line in their search for Dhamma. Therefore, Ãcariya Mun preferred to send them to live in places teeming with wild animals, such as tigers, for such places tended to automatically dispel complacency and stimulate mindfulness and wisdom, boosting the strength of the citta faster than could otherwise be expected.

Ãcariya Mun himself thrived comfortably in the peace and quiet of these virtually unpopulated mountain regions. Though human contact was scarce, communication with devas, brahmas, nãgas, and other spirits from various realms of existence was normal for him – much in the same way that a person knowing foreign languages regularly communicates with people from other countries. Due to his long-standing fluency in this type of communication, his time spent living in mountainous regions was of special benefit to celestial beings.

It was also beneficial to the local hill tribes, who tended to be straightforward, honest, even-tempered people. Once they came to know his character and to appreciate his Dhamma, they revered him so much that they were willing to sacrifice their lives for him. Hill tribes and forest peoples such as the Ekor, Khamu, Museur, and Hmong are generally considered to be rather scruffy, unattractive, primitive people. But Ãcariya Mun found them to be handsome, clean-looking people who were courteous and well-behaved, always treating their elders and local leaders with great respect. They maintained a good community spirit, and there were hardly any troublemakers in their villages back then. They placed so much trust in their elders, especially the village headman, that when he spoke everyone paid attention and obediently complied with his wishes. And they were not opinionated, making them easy to teach.

Those so-called wild, uncivilized jungles were actually inhabited by good, honest, moral people. There, unlike in the jungles of human civilization, theft and robbery were virtually unknown. Jungles consisting of trees and wild animals aren’t nearly so dangerous as the civilized jungles of human society – places teeming with all kinds of perilous kilesas where greed, hatred, and delusion are constantly on the assault. They inflict deep internal wounds, gradually eroding a person’s physical and mental health until the damage becomes acute. Such wounds are extremely difficult to treat. In any case, most people can’t even be bothered to look for suitable care. Though such kilesa-inflicted wounds tend to fester menacingly, those who are afflicted usually neglect their injuries, hoping they will somehow heal by themselves.

This sort of kilesa-infested jungle exists in the hearts of all human beings – men, women, monks, and novices – without distinction. Ãcariya Mun said that he used life in the wilds as a means of cutting back this wild inner jungle, which otherwise could be so savage and disturbing that the heart never experienced any peace and quiet. At least by living alone in the wilderness he could quell the kilesas enough to feel comfortable and relaxed. He felt that this was the only sensible way to use our natural human intelligence, and thus not squander the good fortune inherent in human birth.

Monks who sought out Ãcariya Mun in the wilderness tended to be especially courageous and self-sacrificing, so he trained them in ways that suited their uncompromising attitude and the harshness of their environment. Training methods that he found appropriate for himself were suitable for them as well. If necessary, they were willing to die to achieve their goal. As long as they lived, they were dedicated to the struggle for Dhamma in order to transcend the world and end the perpetual cycle of birth and suffering.

The training methods that Ãcariya Mun employed with the monks he encountered in Chiang Mai differed from those he previously used. They were far more rigorous and uncompromising. The monks who came to train under his guidance were mostly resolute individuals. They paid scrupulous attention to the kilesas arising within themselves in an attempt to reduce their strength and choke them off. They were not concerned that his admonitions might be too harsh or too intense. In fact, the intensity of his tone increased as the Dhamma under discussion became more profound. Those focusing on a certain level of tranquility were reinforced in that calm state, while those concentrating on investigative analysis followed every nuance of his reasoning to discover new techniques for developing wisdom.

The discourses that Ãcariya Mun delivered to his students in Chiang Mai were especially profound because his knowledge of Dhamma was by then complete. Another factor was the high degree of understanding that the monks who sought his guidance already possessed. They were absolutely determined to strive for higher and higher levels of Dhamma until they reached the ultimate goal. Besides his usual admonitions, Ãcariya Mun also had some very unusual techniques for thwarting the monks whose thoughts tended to go astray. He used these techniques to trap ‘thieves’ and catch them in the act. But these were no ordinary thieves. The thieves that Ãcariya Mun caught lurked inside the hearts of monks whose thoughts liked to steal away to everything imaginable – in the usual way of the kilesas.

A STRANGE INCIDENT occurred while Ãcariya Mun was staying in the mountains of Chiang Mai – an incident that should never have happened in the circle of kammaååhãna monks. I hope you will forgive me for recounting what I heard. I feel it may be a thought-provoking lesson for anyone who finds himself in a similar situation. This story was known exclusively within the inner circle of Ãcariya Mun’s senior disciples, and Ãcariya Mun’s own assessment of the whole matter was crucial. A certain senior monk living with him at the time related the story as follows:

One afternoon he and another monk went to bathe in a rock pool located near a path leading to the fields of the local village, which was quite a long distance away. While they were bathing, a group of young women happened to pass by on their way to work in the fields – something that had never before occurred while they were bathing. When the other monk spied them walking past, his mind immediately wobbled, his mindfulness failing him as the fires of lust flared up and began smoldering inside him. Try as he might, he couldn’t manage to reverse this situation. While fearful that Ãcariya Mun might become aware of his predicament, he was equally afraid that he might disgrace himself. From that moment on, his mind was constantly fluctuating as he desperately tried to come to grips with the problem. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before, and he felt miserable about it.

That same night Ãcariya Mun, investigating on his own, became aware that this monk had encountered something unexpected and was consequently very distraught, caught between feelings of infatuation and apprehension. The monk struggled through a sleepless night, trying to resolve the dilemma. The next morning Ãcariya Mun did not say anything about it, for he knew that the monk was already fearful of him; confronting him would only make matters worse. When they met, the monk was so ashamed and apprehensive he was almost trembling; but Ãcariya Mun just smiled amicably as though he didn’t know what had happened. When it came time to go on almsround, Ãcariya Mun found an excuse to address the monk.

“I can see how earnest you are in pressing on with your meditation practice, so you needn’t go on almsround today. The rest of us will go, and we will share our food with you when we return. Providing food for one extra monk is hardly a problem. Go and continue your meditation practice so that the rest of us may share the merit you make as well.”

He said this without looking directly at the monk, for Ãcariya Mun understood the monk better than the monk understood himself. Ãcariya Mun then led the others on almsround while the monk forced himself to do walking meditation. Since the problem arose due to a chance encounter and not an intentional one, it had been impossible to prevent. Realizing that, Ãcariya Mun did what he could to assist him. He was well aware that the monk was doing his utmost to solve the problem; so, he was obliged to find a clever means of helping him without further upsetting his mental state.

When they returned from almsround, the monks shared their food with the monk, each putting some in his bowl. Ãcariya Mun sent someone to inform the monk that he could take his meal with them or alone in his hut, whichever he preferred. Upon hearing this, the monk quickly went to eat with his fellow monks. Ãcariya Mun ignored him when he arrived, but, later spoke gently to him in order to soothe his injured psyche and mitigate his sense of remorse. Although he sat with the other monks, he ate only a token amount of food so as not to appear impolite.

Later that day, the other monk, who had also bathed at the rock pool – the one who would later tell this story – became suspicious, being as yet unaware of the whole story. He wondered why Ãcariya Mun treated that monk with a deference he had never seen before. He figured that since Ãcariya Mun was being so supportive, his friend’s meditation practice was undoubtedly very good. When he found the opportunity, he went to ask about his meditation. “Ãcariya Mun said that you didn’t have to go on almsround because you’re intensifying your efforts, but he didn’t indicate how good your meditation is. So, how is your meditation going? Please tell me about it.” The monk gave a wry smile. “How could my meditation be good? Ãcariya Mun saw a poor, miserable soul and he’s just trying to help, using his own skillful methods. That’s all.”

His friend persisted in attempting to get to the truth, but the monk continued to deflect his questions. Finally his friend confronted him directly. He asked, “What did you mean when you said that Ãcariya Mun saw a poor, miserable soul? And how is it that he’s trying to help?” Exasperated, the monk relented. “There is no need to tell Ãcariya Mun about this. Anyway, he already knows me better than I know myself, so I feel fearful and ashamed in his presence. Did you notice anything unusual when we were bathing together at the rock pool yesterday?”

The other monk said that he hadn’t noticed anything, except for a group of women passing by. So, the monk confessed, “That’s just it. That’s why I’m so miserable right now, and why Ãcariya Mun wouldn’t let me go on almsround this morning. He was afraid I would pass out and die right there in the village should I happened to see her again. How could my meditation be any good? Do you understand now how good the meditation of this miserable fellow is?”

The other monk was stunned. “Oh, my gosh! What is it between you and those women?”“Nothing,” answered the monk, “except blindly falling in love with one of them and having my meditation going to pieces. What appeared in its place was a beautiful image – a crazy infatuation crushing down on my heart all night long. Even now this madness continues unabated, and I just don’t know what to do about it. Please, can you do something to help me?”“You mean it still isn’t any better?” “No.” The monk’s voice sounded wretchedly pathetic.

“In that case, I have a suggestion. If you can’t suppress this thing, then it is not prudent for you to stay here any longer – things will only get worse. I think it’s better that you move away from here and find another place to do your practice. If you don’t feel up to asking Ãcariya Mun about this, then I will speak to him for you. I’ll inform him that you wish to go look for another secluded place because you don’t feel so well here. I’m sure he will immediately give his permission because he is well aware of what’s happening to you. He just hasn’t said anything about it yet for fear of shaming you.”

The monk readily agreed. That evening his companion went to speak with Ãcariya Mun, who immediately gave his consent. But there was a caustic element latent here. Ãcariya Mun said rather cryptically: “A disease arising from karmic attraction is hard to cure. Contagions spread quickly when their original cause still remains.” And that was all he would say on the matter. Even the monk who went to speak with him didn’t understand his connotation.

Everyone kept quiet about this matter. The monk never spoke directly to Ãcariya Mun about it; his friend never mentioned it to anyone else; and Ãcariya Mun kept the whole thing to himself. Although fully aware of the truth of the matter they all behaved as if nothing had happened. No one spoke openly about it.

The next day the monk went to take leave of Ãcariya Mun, who consented without mentioning the matter. The monk then left and went to stay near another village quite a distance away. Had this not been a true case of karmic attraction, as Ãcariya Mun had hinted, then surely the monk would have been well out of danger there. But, alas for the uncertainty of karmic consequences: things turned out exactly as Ãcariya Mun had suggested. Shortly after the monk left Ãcariya Mun, the young woman, who shared the same karmic connection, ended up moving to the other village by a fortuitous coincidence, and their paths crossed again. This itself is very interesting, since it was most unusual for hill tribe women to stray so far from home.

Later, after Ãcariya Mun and his group of monks had departed from the first village, they heard that the monk had disrobed,returning to lay life because he couldn’t put up with the constant strain. His kamma had come full circle: he married the pretty Museur woman and settled in that village.

This was a genuine case of mutual kamma. Without such a karmic connection, how could it have been possible? The monk who told this story insisted that his friend became infatuated the moment he saw the woman, having never seen or spoken with her before. This was confirmed by the other monks who were living there. They lived together in the monastery the whole time, never having any occasion to get involved with the villagers. Besides that, they were living with Ãcariya Mun in a place safe from such liaisons. There can be no doubt that an enduring karmic bond existed between them. The monk once told his friend that mere eye contact with her was enough to make him feel giddy and lose all presence of mind, and an irresistible passion gripped his heart so tightly he could scarcely breath. Those powerful emotions plagued him relentlessly, leaving him in such an emotional quandary that he felt completely demoralized. Realizing his predicament, he tried to escape. But fate pursued him, again casting its spell over him. And that was it – he succumbed.

Those who have never had such an experience may smile; but others who have, know that we cannot all imitate the Arahant Sundara Samudda by simply floating up and out to safety.1 Normally, hill tribe people are not overly familiar with monks; but if kamma is involved, then such incidents can happen. No one is exempt from kamma, for kamma has jurisdiction over those who create it. Ãcariya Mun was fully aware of this truth. Although he tried using skillful means to help the monk, the outcome was probably inevitable. For this reason, he didn’t make any direct attempt to intervene. In the final analysis, in a world where everyone lives under the authority of kamma, matters must be allowed to take their natural course. I have included this story in the hope that it may serve as a timely reminder for anyone finding himself in a similar situation. As always, I trust you will forgive any indiscretion on my part.

PREVIOUSLY I MENTIONED Ãcariya Mun’s special talent for catching ‘thieves’, a technique for reading minds and catching stray thoughts that kept his students watchful and alert. When a kammaååhãna monk with an especially bold, resolute character came to see him in Chiang Mai, Ãcariya Mun used this teaching technique to good advantage. Unlike those less earnestly committed, these monks were not apt to react in a negative way. Being fully dedicated to the cause of Dhamma, as soon as Ãcariya Mun admonished them about their faults, they were willing to do their best to rectify them. No matter how pointedly he admonished them, they did not feel ashamed or apprehensive when their mistakes were exposed.

Ãcariya Mun was a consummate teacher and his message went straight to the heart of his listeners. Whether sharing his own personal knowledge or pointing out the shortcomings of his students, he was always frank and outspoken. He remained candid and impartial in his criticism with the intention of giving as much help as he possibly could. His students were in no way contemptuous. They never refused to accept the truth; nor were they conceited about their own achievements, as often happens in a group of meditators.

His Dhamma explanations were invariably adapted to the individual needs of his students, touching only on the points that were essential to the individual’s level of practice. When he determined that a student was practicing correctly, he encouraged him to step up his efforts. But when he felt that someone’s meditation was faulty or potentially dangerous, he pointed this out as a way of encouraging the student to abandon that practice.

For monks who went to him with doubts or questions, his explanations were unerringly right to the point; and, as far as I know, his students were never disappointed. It’s safe to say that everyone who went to him with a question about meditation practice, could have expected to receive expert advice, for meditation was his field of greatest expertise. His knowledge and understanding of every aspect of meditation were unparalleled. Every facet of his Dhamma teaching benefited from his lyrical presentation, captivating the listener and demonstrating an eloquence which no one today can equal. His comments on moral virtue were engrossing to his listeners, while his discourses on the different levels of samãdhi and wisdom were exceptional. His audience became so absorbed that, being satiated in the Dhamma they heard, their feeling of satisfaction often lasted for days thereafter.

DURING THE PERIOD when Ãcariya Mun pushed himself relentlessly toward realization of the Supreme Dhamma, he lived alone in mountain caves or forest retreats. As he waged an all out assault on the kilesas, his efforts were directed inward at all times. Only during hours of sleep did he relax this persistent introspection. Mindfulness and wisdom were his constant companions throughout that exhaustive investigation to uproot the kilesas. He carried on a continuous dialogue with the kilesas, mentally attacking and counterattacking them with mindfulness and wisdom. His sheer determination to go beyond dukkha was the catalyst for these conversations, which were not rhetorical encounters. Rather, they were internal contemplations using mindfulness and wisdom to rebut the kilesas. No matter how they tried to evade him, no matter what tricks they used to rebuff or entangle him, Ãcariya Mun used mindfulness and wisdom at each step of the way to follow their movements, and to corner and crush them into submission – until, finally, he emerged victorious. Wherever he found the kilesas still having the upper hand, he made an effort to upgrade his arsenal – mindfulness, wisdom, faith, and perseverance – increasing their strength with each new challenge until it exceeded that of his archenemy. Triumphant at last, as we already know, the world inside his heart shook – maggañãõa had destroyed the king of the vaååa-citta.2

This was how Ãcariya Mun applied himself in the ultimate battle. He did not place any time constraints on his walking and sitting meditation as he strove day and night, wielding mindfulness and wisdom to secure victory. Having finally cleared through the dense jungle of kilesas, supreme-mindfulness and supreme-wisdom, that were his weapons of choice in this campaign, ceased to be meaningful or relevant. Mindfulness and wisdom became routine faculties to be engaged in normal mental processes. He used them to think about one of the many aspects of Dhamma or to engage in other mental activities, letting them fade away when their services were no longer required. Previously, they needed to be in a constant state of alert to combat the kilesas. Once victory was achieved, if nothing came along to stimulate his thoughts, he existed much as though he were mentally idle – a simpleton. Mindfulness and wisdom, which for so long had been caught up in the heat of intense struggle, were nowhere to be found. All that remained was a timeless tranquillity that nothing could disturb, eclipsing everything else in his heart. Left totally to itself, free of all external influences, his heart did not think about affairs of the past or the future. It was as though everything had disappeared along with the kilesas – only emptiness remained.