About This Teaching
In this instalment Ajahn Dtun continues his own account of early monastic life, told through a translator. As a young monk his mind was peaceful most of the time, anger rarely arose, and sexual thoughts were met quickly with asubha reflection. Yet liking and disliking toward sense objects kept returning. A mental image answered why: a tree with seven branches, one cut each day of the week, all sprouting again days later. To kill the tree, the roots must go, and the root was attachment to the body.
He contemplated the body part by part and saw visions of people aging and breaking apart, and for a day and a half saw village and monastery alike in decay; on returning to his hut, even his bowl was full of cobwebs. Unsure of the meaning, he wrote to Ajahn Chah via his father. While sweeping his veranda the events replayed, and he knew that whatever arises must cease, recalling Venerable Koṇḍañña. Afterwards gold and diamonds seemed no different from stone, and he watched carefully whether this change would last.