One of the most interesting stories I heard Chong Go Sunim tell at Saturday Sangha was about a monk he knows who was staying in Haein Temple, when Zen Master Seong Chol was still alive. The monk left the temple to do a long retreat in the Jiri Mountainsand was living off what ever he could find in the forested slopes.
After eating something he shouldn’t have, maybe a poisonous mushroom or something else inedible, he became seriously ill and collapsed on the ground. He came to awareness back in Haein Temple, about 100km or more away and saw two of his friends in the hall doing what seemed like a death ceremony. They didn’t seem to notice him and he found it curious that instead of reciting the appropriate sutras, the monk with the mok-tak (a wooden percussion instrument) was repeating the word, “Chek, chek, chek…” (“Book, book, book…”) and the monk with the bell kept repeating, “Yeom ju, yeom ju, yeom ju…” (“prayer beads, prayer breads, prayer beads…”)
In a flash, he was in his mother’s house. He was standing next to her as she was loading wood in the fire. She didn’t notice him so he reached over and touched her shoulder. She let out a shriek and crumpled over in pain.
Just as he had found himself at the temple, then at his mother’s, he was standing back in the mountain. He noticed the scent of bulgogi, marinated beef, wafting up from the river bank and a group of men in white hanbok (traditional Korean clothes) calling, “Hey! Come down and join us, there’s plenty to go around!” Just as he was about to join them he remembered he is a monk and shouldn’t eat meat.
Making his way back into the hills, he came across an old man with an old fashion jigae, a wooden A-frame carrying rack, on his back. But instead of carrying wood, he was carrying a man down the mountain. He put the man down on the ground and the monk, thinking the man looked familiar, went over to take a closer look. As he stared at the man’s face, he couldn’t get over how much the man looked like himself. He touched the body and at that instant, his consciousness was sucked into the body, and he woke up with a jerk. He was laying near the village where he’d seen the old man put the body. He was also probably feeling a little disoriented from the strange experience he’d just had.
Returning to the temple, he went to his friends and told them about what he had seen. They replied that Seong Cheol Sunim spoke to them that he had died in the Jiri Mountains and that they should perform a death ceremony immediately. He continued, telling them that they were chanting the words “book” and “prayer beads” instead of the proper sutra’s they should have been chanting. Surprised, the first one admitted that he knew the monk had a collection of really nice books and was wondering if he could have them. A bit ashamed, his second friend also admitted that he was thinking about the monk’s nice “yeom ju” and also wondering if he could have it. So, even though they were speaking the mantra, all that he could hear from them was their thoughts.
He visited his mother and told her of the experience. She replied that she remembered a sudden sharp pain in her shoulder.
Going back to the stream in the mountain, where he’d seen the men eating bulgogi, he found no remnants of barbecue. What he did see disturbed him though. Laying by the river bank was the corpse of a magpie, entirely infested with maggots. He realized that what appeared to him as men by the river were actually larva calling him to dine on the flesh of the dead bird. He wondered if he hadn’t reminded himself that he was a monk and had instead joined them, would he have been reborn as the larva of a fly? How difficult would it have been to work his way back to being born in human form again? When he left his body, he had no ears, no eyes, no nose, no tongue, no hands. All he was left with was his perception and his illusion of what surrounded him. He couldn’t hear words, only intentions.
For a while, I’ve felt that our state of mind at the moment of death is very important. We must be aware, first that we’ve stepped out and second, where we are to go. Through the Dhamma, I’ve learned that all life is equal, but the human mind is most advantageous for developing liberation. When taking into account the number of beings in existence, from elephants and whales to single cell organism, it is actually extremely rare to be born human. We should recognize the opportunity we have in this form and do the best we can with it. When we die, we usually won’t in the best states of mind, perhaps sick, drugged, confused, or not even conscious. The more our mind is prepared now, the better we can deal when the moment comes.
7 thoughts on “a glimpse”
Great point, Joseph!
These days, I seem to find myself thinking about the fact that the effort we make is “not” wasted. The results may not be obvious, but as long as our direction is correct, our effort “will” bare fruit.
wonderfulwonderful post, Joseph! thank you so much!!
in tantra you learn about the preciousness of being born human and the advantages from this for your further being. born human you’re able to get methods to transform negative into positive and you have the chance of practising to die in the best possible way.
and there are definitely several levels of communication!
what this monk experienced -‘all that he could hear from them was their thoughts’ – i use to experience contrariwise when i meet my Lama. i’m glass for him, just glass. in the very beginning it frightened me, but meanwhile it makes things really easy… our ‘heart-computers’ , as he says, are linked together, so he knows what i’m working on and i can share the best programme of his ‘data-bank’. it works – without words!:)
This monk’s story doesn’t seem too different from my daily life, with its confusions, seductions and illusions.
Fortunately, through his training, the monk had developed a strong center and didn’t get sucked into the dream world. Would that I could say the same for myself…
what a great story! Very inspiring, and it reminds to use every moment for practice.
Yesterday I went to temple, as I do everyday, and a sunim there wanted to talk to me, he does not speak english, but can read, I don’t speak korean, but can read it, so it was funny conversation; there was one word I did not know exact meaning and his dictionary did not have it, so I went back home to get my big dictionary, – all this hassle to understand one word! But what an important word, he was trying to tell me “to etch” deep mind in my mind, to always keep it in mind, and this story illustrates so well why it is important to do so.
Wonderful post. Thank you so much. You know, I hope, when I die, that I’ll be with loved ones wishing me a good journey; that there will be a small quiet chant going of NamuAmitabul or KwanSeumBosal, and that I’ll drift away to be welcomed into the Pure Land.
But who knows? Perhaps I’ll get hit by a bus. It could happen any moment. So the deathbed scene I dream of, and that feeling of trust in the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, and that knowledge I’m held with love, should be an awareness in my mind all the time. That’s the best training, and the best preparation for death and what comes next.
Thank you so much!
[…] In his post a few days ago, Joseph relayed the story of a monk who died in the Jiri Mountains (A glimpse). It highlighted two critical truths, namely, that we are not our bodies, and the importance of […]
Sorry, I was away and didn’t get back to anyone on this one.
But thank you for reading and your comments! _/\_