​

Once while he was meditating, deep in the Chiang Mai mountains, Ãcariya Mun saw a vision of a woman and a small novice walking back and forth through the area, nearly every night in the late hours. Becoming suspicious after a while, he asked why they were there. They told him that they were worried about the fate of an unfinished stupa 20 which they were building together when they died. The small novice was the woman’s younger brother, and they had worked together to construct the stupa. Their concern about the stupa and their regrets at having died before its completion made them feel a strong, persistent obligation to it. Although reborn into a state of anxiety, they were not as tormented by it as might be expected. Still, they could not feel decisive about being reborn into another realm of existence.

So Ãcariya Mun advised them: “You should not be concerned about things that have already come and gone, for they are truly irredeemable. No matter how convinced you may be that you can turn back the clock – it’s just not possible. Anyone supposing they can will experience nothing but frustration when their hopes fail to materialize. The future, having yet to come, shouldn’t be clung to either. What has already happened should be let go of as being past. What has yet to arrive should be let go of as its time is not yet ripe. Only in the present is it possible to accomplish something meaningful.

“If your dream of building that stupa were meant to come true, then you would have had a chance to finish it first instead of dying unexpectedly. Now you are trying to deny death. Not only that, you still long to complete the stupa even though it is now wholly impossible. So, now you have erred twice in your thinking. If you continue on hoping to fulfill this wish, you will compound your mistake yet a third time. Not only is your thinking affected by this, but your future state of birth and your well-being in that state will also be adversely affected. Such an unreasonable aspiration should not be allowed to continue.

“In building a stupa, we hope to acquire merit and goodness – not bricks and mortar. The value you obtain from building a stupa is the merit that you gain from this action – merit which results from your efforts and which rightly belongs to you. You shouldn’t worry about gross material things like bricks and mortar that can never fullfill your desires anyway. People everywhere who gain merit by doing good deeds take with them only the merit they’ve thus acquired, not the material things they gave away as donations. For example, contributing to the construction of a monastery, a monk’s residence, an assembly hall, a road, a water tank, a public building, or any other offering of material goods, are simply the outward manifestations of the good intentions of those wishing to be generous. They are not the actual rewards of generosity, meaning that material offerings themselves are not merit or goodness or heaven or Nibbãna, nor are they the recipient of such rewards. For, over time, all material things disintegrate and fall apart.

“The spiritual qualities that are gained from the effort and the generosity required to do charitable works are experienced internally as merit and goodness. The inspiration behind the good intentions to make such donations is the heart of each individual donor. The heart itself is virtuous. The heart itself is meritorious. It is the heart that exists as heaven or magga, phala and Nibbãna, and the heart that achieves these attainments. Nothing else could possibly achieve them.

“The unfinished stupa that you two were building lacked the conscious capacity to have good intentions for its own spiritual improvement. Your concern for it stems from a covetous mentality that is a hindrance to you even though it is directed at holding on to something good. Clinging to it is not in your best interest. Your procrastination here is retarding your progress to a favorable rebirth. Instead of trying to take the whole thing with you, had you two been satisfied with the merit you made from working on that stupa, you would both have comfortably gone on to a favorable existence long ago – for merit is the mainstay of a good rebirth. And merit is never transformed into something bad. It remains virtuous forever – akãliko.

“It’s a mistake to be unduly concerned for things past. There is no way you can possibly finish that stupa now, so you shouldn’t set your hearts on such a hopeless endeavor. The power of the merit you have made impacts you here in the present. So, don’t waste your time thinking about the past or the future when now you should be reaping the good results of what you’ve already done. Correct your thinking and soon you will be able to pass on, free of anxiety. Turn your attention to the present. It contains all the virtues necessary for magga, phala, and Nibbãna. The past and the future are impediments you must overcome without wasting any more time.

“I feel really sorry for you two. You’ve done some very meritorious work for the sake of a happy future, only to get so bogged down in your attachment to mere bricks and mortar that you can’t freely move on. If you both make the effort to cut these attachments from your hearts, before long you will be free of all binding ties. The strength of your accumulated merit is ready and waiting to take you to the rebirth of your choice.”

Ãcariya Mun then explained to them the essential meaning of the five moral precepts, a code of conduct applying equally to all living beings.

First: Every living being values its own life, so no one should destroy that intrinsic value by taking someone else’s life. This results in very bad kamma.

Second: All beings cherish their own possessions. Even if they don’t appear to have much value, the owner values them nonetheless. Regardless of its worth, nothing belonging to another person should be debased by theft or robbery. For such actions debase not only their possessions, but their hearts as well. Stealing is a terrible act – so never steal.

Third: Husbands and wives, children and grandchildren, all love each other dearly. They do not want to see anyone taking liberties with their loved ones. Their personal rights should be respected and their private space should be off limits to others. Spousal infringement is extremely damaging to people’s hearts, and as such is an act of incalculable evil.

Fourth: Lies and prevarication destroy other people’s trust, causing them to lose all respect. Even animals abhor deceit, so one should never hurt others by using false, deceitful language.

Fifth: Alcohol is by its very nature intoxicating and immensely harmful. Drinking it can cause a perfectly normal person to go crazy and steadily waste away. Anyone wishing to remain a normal, sane human being should refrain from drinking any form of liquor because it damages physical and mental health, eventually destroying people and everyone else around them.

Each of these five moral precepts has its own special benefits. By maintaining the first one, we can expect to enjoy good health and longevity. By the second, our wealth and property will be safe from criminal attack or other misfortune. By the third, family members will keep faith with each other, and live contentedly without unwanted interference. With the fourth, we will be trusted because of our integrity. When our speech is charming and pleasant, humans and devas alike will respect and cherish us. Honest people pose no threat to themselves or anyone else. And by maintaining the fifth precept, we will be clever, intelligent people who are not easily misguided nor readily thrown into confusion.

People who maintain moral virtue tend to reassure living beings everywhere by promoting a sense of satisfaction and mutual trust. Immoral people, on the other hand, cause untold suffering by harming people and animals all over the world. Those who value their own existence should understand that all people value themselves similarly, and should, therefore, refrain from harming others in any manner. Due to the supportive, protective power of moral virtue, honest, virtuous people can expect to be reborn into an elevated, heavenly existence. Thus it is vital to maintain high moral standards – the result will surely be a heavenly destination in the next life. Remember this Dhamma teaching, practice it diligently, and your future prosperity is assured.

By the time Ãcariya Mun finished advising the small novice and his sister, both were delighted by his teaching and requested the five moral precepts from him, which he gave them. Having received the moral precepts, they respectfully took leave of Ãcariya Mun, and immediately vanished. The power of their accumulated merit and the goodness they cultivated from attending to his discourse and taking the five precepts, led the two to be quickly reborn in the Tãvatiÿsa heavenly realm.

They then regularly visited Ãcariya Mun to hear his teaching. On their first visit they thanked him for his kind assistance in illuminating the way out of the vicious cycle they were in, allowing them to finally enjoy the pleasure of the heavenly existence they had anticipated for so long. They told him that they now realized the great danger that attachments pose to the heart, and the delay they can cause in moving on to a favorable birth. Having received his compassionate advice, they were able to transcend all their concerns and be reborn in a heavenly realm.

Ãcariya Mun explained the nature of emotional attachments to them, pointing out that they are a hindrance in many different ways. The wise always teach us that at the moment of death we should be careful not to have emotional attachments to anything whatsoever. The danger is that we may recall, then, an infatuation of some kind, or even worse, angry, revengeful thoughts about a particular person. The moment when the citta is about to leave the physical body is crucial. If at that moment the citta latches on to a pernicious thought, it may get burned and end up being reborn into a realm of misery, such as one of the hells, or a world of demons, ghosts, or animals – all miserable, unfavorable existences.

So when we’re in a good position to train the citta – when we are in human birth and fully cognizant of ourselves – we must take decisive advantage of it. As human beings, we can realize our shortcomings and quickly act to correct them, so that, later, when our backs are against the wall – at the time of death – we will be fully prepared to fend for ourselves. We need not be worried about falling prey to the destructive forces of evil. The more we train ourselves to sever all emotional attachments, both good and bad, the better our position will be.

The wise know that the heart is the most important thing in the whole universe, for material and spiritual welfare are dependent upon the heart. So, they make a point of training their hearts in the correct way and then teach others to do the same. We live by means of the heart, and experience contentment and dissatisfaction by means of the heart. When we die, we depart by means of the heart. We are then born again according to our kamma – with the heart as the sole cause. As it is the sole source of everything that befalls us, we should train our hearts in the right way so that we can conduct ourselves properly now and in the future.

When Ãcariya Mun finished speaking the newly reborn devas were overjoyed by his teaching. Praising it highly, they said they had never heard anything quite like it before. Upon their departure, they circumambulated him three times, then withdrew to the edge of his living area before floating up into the air like wisps of cotton borne by the wind.

ONCE, WHILE LIVING in a deep mountainous region of Chiang Mai, far from the nearest village, Ãcariya Mun saw an extraordinary nimitta arise in his meditation. The hour was three A.M., a time when the body elements are especially subtle. He had just awoken from sleep and was sitting in meditation when he noticed that his citta wanted to rest in complete tranquility. So, he entered into a deep state of samãdhi where he remained for about two hours. Then, his citta began withdrawing gradually from that state and paused at the level of upacãra samãdhi instead of returning to normal, waking consciousness. Immediately, he became aware of certain events.

A huge elephant appeared. Walking up to Ãcariya Mun, it knelt before him, indicating that it wanted him to mount. Ãcariya Mun promptly climbed up onto its back and sat straddling its neck. Once he was settled on the elephant, he noticed two young monks following behind him, both riding on elephants. Their elephants were also very large, though slightly smaller than the one he was riding. The three elephants appeared very handsome and majestic, like royal elephants that possess human-like intelligence and know their master’s wishes. When the two elephants reached him, he led them toward a mountain range that was visible directly ahead, about half a mile away.

Ãcariya Mun felt the whole scene to be exceptionally majestic, as though he were escorting the two young monks away from the world of conventional reality forever. Upon reaching the mountain range, his elephant led them all to the entrance of a cave that was situated on a hill a short distance up the mountainside. As soon as they arrived, it turned around, placing its rear to the entrance. With Ãcariya Mun still straddling its neck, it backed into the cave until its rear was touching the back wall. The other two elephants with the two young monks astride walked forward into the cave and each took a place on either side of Ãcariya Mun’s elephant, facing inward as he faced outward. Ãcariya Mun then spoke to the two monks as if he were giving them his final, parting instructions.

“I have reached my final hour of birth in a human body. Having been completely cut off, perpetual existence in the conventional world will soon cease altogether for me. Never again shall I return to the world of birth and death. I want you both to return and fully develop yourselves first; then, before long, you will follow in my footsteps, departing this world in the same manner as I am preparing to do now. Escaping from the world, with its multitude of lingering attachments and all of its debilitating pain and suffering, is an extremely difficult task that demands unwavering commitment. You must exert yourselves and pour every ounce of energy into the struggle for this righteous cause – including crossing the very threshold of death – before you can expect to attain freedom from danger and anxiety. Once freed, you will never again have to deplore death and grasp at birth in the future.

“Having completely transcended every residual attachment, I shall depart this world unperturbed, much like a prisoner released from prison. I have absolutely no lingering regrets about losing this physical body – unlike most people whose desperate clinging causes them immense suffering at the time of death. So you should not mourn my passing in any way, for nothing good will come of it. Such grief merely promotes the kilesas, so the wise have never encouraged it.”

When he finished speaking, Ãcariya Mun told the two young monks to back their elephants out of the cave. Both elephants had been standing perfectly still, one on either side, as though they too were listening to Ãcariya Mun’s parting words and mourning his imminent departure. At that moment, all three elephants resembled real, living animals, rather than mere psychic images. At his command, the two elephants, carrying the young monks, slowly backed out of the cave, facing Ãcariya Mun with an imperiously calm demeanor all the while. Then, as Ãcariya Mun sat astride its neck, the hindquarters of Ãcariya Mun’s elephant began to bore its way into the cave wall. When half of the elephant’s body had penetrated the wall of the cave, Ãcariya Mun’s citta began to withdraw from samãdhi. The nimitta ended at that point.

Having never experienced such an unusual nimitta before, Ãcariya Mun analyzed it and understood its meaning as being twofold. Firstly, when he died, two young monks would attain Dhamma after him, though he didn’t specify who they were. Secondly, samatha and vipassanã are valuable assets for an Arahant to have from the time of his initial attainment until the time he passes away. During this whole period, he must rely on samatha and vipassanã to be his ‘Dhamma abodes’,21 easing the discomfort that is experienced between the citta and the five khandhas, which remain interdependent until that moment – popularly known as ‘death’ – when the mundane khandhas and the transcendent citta22 go their separate ways. At death, samatha and vipassanã cease to function, disappearing like all other mundane phenomena. Following that, nothing further can be said.

Most people would have been terrified to see the elephant they were riding bore its rear end into the wall of a cave. But in the event, Ãcariya Mun felt unperturbed – he simply allowed the elephant to complete its appointed task. At the same time, it was heartening for him to know that two young monks would realize Dhamma around the time of his death, either just before or soon after. He said it was very strange that, in his parting instructions to them, he spoke about his own impending death as though his time had already come.

Unfortunately, Ãcariya Mun never revealed the names of those two monks. Hearing this story from him, I was so eager to find out their names that I completely neglected to consider my own shortcomings. I kept trying to imagine which of my fellow monks they might be. I’ve kept an eye on this matter ever since Ãcariya Mun passed away. But even as I write his biography I still don’t have a clue who these auspicious monks might be. The more I think about it, the more I see the folly of jumping to conclusions.23

No one has admitted to being one of those monks – which is understandable. Who would publicize their attainments like that? Such achievements are not rotten fish to be peddled about merely to attract a swarm of flies. Anyone attaining that level of Dhamma must possess a very high degree of intelligence and propriety. Would he then be so stupid as to broadcast his achievements so that fools could laugh at him while the wise deplore it? Only the gullible would get excited about such news – like those in the story of the panic-stricken rabbit who, hearing a loud thud, imagined the sky was caving in.24