less spirit of the occasion. Walking along in complete silence like
mourners in a funeral procession of a close friend or relative, they
did their best to come to terms with the heartbreak. No one spoke
a word, but in their hearts they pondered long and deeply on their
shattered hopes, the overwhelming feeling being that all was now
lost. It seemed then as if we were taking his corpse away to dis-
pose of it, even though he was still very much alive. The realiza-
tion that all hope was now gone, that he would never return again,
had fully sunk in. The more we thought about it, the sadder we
became. Yet we couldn’t stop thinking about it. We all walked
along in a kind of melancholy daze, contemplating thoughts of
despair.
I must confess to being shamefully inadequate in this regard
- the whole journey I thought only of how I was about to lose
my one true refuge in life. No longer would there be someone to
rely on when questions arose in my practice, as they so often did.
The distance from Ban Nong Pheu to the district seat of Phanna
Nikhom was approximately fifteen miles; but the long hours of
walking passed almost unnoticed. Walking behind him, know-
ing he was dying, I thought only of how much I was going to miss
my teacher. I desperately wanted him to continue living at the
time. His final days corresponded to a crucial stage in my own
meditation practice, a time when I had many unresolved prob-
lems to work out. No matter how much I pondered this predic-
ament, I always arrived at the same conclusion: my dependence
on him would have to be terminated soon. This made the future
look bleak.
His condition remained calm and stable throughout the
long journey – he did not display any obvious signs of ill health.
