to invigorate himself by quickening his pace. Only when all drow-
siness disappeared and he began to feel tired did he leave his med-
itation track to sit down to continue meditating until dawn.
Shortly after dawn, he prepared to go on his almsround.
Wearing his lower robe, placing his under and upper robes together
and wrapped about him, his alms bowl hanging from his shoul-
der by a strap, he walked to the nearest village in a self-composed
manner, careful to maintain mindfulness the entire way. Consid-
ering his hike to and from the village a form of walking medita-
tion, he focused his attention inward every step of the way, insur-
ing that his mind did not venture out to become involved with
any emotionally-charged sense object along the route. Returning
to his campsite, or the monastery where he resided, he arranged
the food he had received in his alms bowl. As a matter of prin-
ciple, he ate only the food he was offered in the village, refusing
to accept any food brought to him afterward. Only much later, in
his very old age, did he relax this practice somewhat, agreeing to
accept food that the faithful offered him in the monastery. During
his early years, he ate only the food he had received in his alms
bowl.
With everything to be eaten placed in the bowl, he sat con-
templating the true purpose of the food^16 he was about to eat as
a means of dousing the inner fires of hell; that is to say, any crav-
ing for food that might arise due to hunger. Otherwise, the mind
might succumb to the power of craving and indulge in the fine
taste of food, when in fact, it should be reflecting on food’s essen-
tial qualities: how all food, being simply a composition of gross
elements, is inherently disgusting by its very nature.^17 With this
thought firmly fixed in his mind, he chewed his food mindfully
jacob rumans
(Jacob Rumans)
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