to costly mistakes that can easily harm the meditator, or, at the
very least, delay his progress.
DURING ÃCARIYA MUN’S early years as a wandering monk, people
showed little interest in the practice of kammaååhãna meditation.
Many regarded it as something strange, even alien to Buddhism,
having no legitimate place in the life of a monk. Back then, a
dhutanga monk, walking in the distance on the far side of a field,
was enough to send country folk into a panic. Being fearful, those
still close to the village quickly ran home. Those walking near the
forest ran into the thick foliage to hide, being too scared to stand
their ground or greet the monks. Thus, dhutanga monks, wan-
dering in unfamiliar regions during their travels, seldom had a
chance to ask the locals for much needed directions.
Women from the countryside often took their small chil-
dren on excursions into the surrounding hills to pick wild herbs
and edible plants, or to fish in outlying ponds. Suddenly spot-
ting a party of dhutanga monks walking toward them, they would
yell to each other in alarm, “Dhamma monks! Dhamma monks
are coming!” With that they threw their baskets and other gear
to the ground with a thud, and frantically rushed to find a safe
hiding-place. Their discarded belongings could have been dam-
aged or broken when flung to the ground, but they took no notice;
everyone simply fled into the nearby forest, or if close by, to their
village homes.
Meanwhile the children, who had no idea what was hap-
pening, started crying and pleading for help when they saw their
mothers scream and run away. Too slow to keep pace with the