This story was told to me by a monk traveling to Wutai Mountain. Very interesting story.
When I saw this old monk, he was already over 60. The story happened 20 years ago, when he had just become a monk.
This monk became a monk not because he was desperate, but because he truly believed in Buddhism. Therefore, as soon as he became a monk, he worked hard. How can he be brave and diligent, he is going to retreat.
In short, it is to find a place where there are few or no people to practice for a period of time.
Generally, those who retreat have a certain level of cultivation. It is rare for him to retreat as soon as he is a monk. But he doesn’t care. In the back of a famous mountain, I found a cave. Necessary daily necessities for the resettlement site, a wooden board was placed in front of the cave as the door. It began to retreat.
The first two days were okay, but distracting thoughts began to flood in the back. The way he coped is to meditate. So he allocated one month’s ration to three months to reduce the time he has to go down the mountain and let himself less temptation. As for the part with insufficient rations, he picked up some fruit on the mountain and put it in the cave, as a supplement.
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A few days later, when he meditated at night, he felt that there was someone outside the door. Later, it gradually developed to the sound of fingernails lightly scratching the door. If you say you are not afraid, it is false. At first he comforted himself, the devil was born from his heart. This is nothing but a quiet life. But when he didn’t meditate, he also had this voice, so he couldn’t deceive himself. The only comfort is that whenever his heart is not distracted, the voice will disappear.
As mentioned earlier, he just became a monk. How can there be such a deep skill. Later it made him unable to sit down anymore. Every night, it was just a word of fear. Going down the mountain, he violated his oath. He couldn’t meditate anymore, and the voice became more and more relaxed. The sound of nails passing by turned into the sound of scratching the door, and later it became the sound of hitting the door, so that in the end, there was actually a howl with a suppressed throat and breath.
Finally one day, the monk suddenly found a wind circling in front of his futon. Slowly approaching him, the monk came to this point, but calmed down. He looked at the whirlwind calmly, and the whirlwind was worthy of him, and passed him calmly, hovering for a long time where he put the fruit.
After the cyclone disappeared. Before the monk had time to be scared, he felt his calm mood just now. Then sit down. In his own words: “I have entered meditation.” Since then, the whirlwind has never come again, and there is no strange noise outside the door. The monk began to make real courageous progress. According to him, he can already understand some cause and effect. I asked him if he had experienced a whirlwind or a knock on the door? The monk smiled together: “He is a drunkard.” Let alone, from the monk’s smile, you can see a great sense of freedom.