In wet terrain, in a forest hermitage infested with leeches on rainy days, there is a distance of about two kilometres to walk to the refectory for the alms-meal.

The route to take is made up of rocks and gravel, and hills and slopes, and is frequented by poisonous snakes such as the Hump-Nosed Viper and the Common Krait.[i] From a bhikkhu who goes barefoot, a bhikkhu who wears footwear (sandals) enquires thus:

“When you come walking barefoot, venerable sir, won’t your feet sustain wounds? Won’t they get pricked by stones?”

“Certainly not,” that venerable replied.

“How come?” the bhikkhu who wears sandals asked in return.

“I develop loving-kindness (mettā). First, towards all ten directions. Then, towards trees, stones, roots, thorns, in this forest; towards all these things, I develop loving-kindness. I think with loving-kindness that, ‘may every stone, root, thorn or branch I come across on this route be free from misery; may they grow comfortably’. I respect them all. Then you may feel that after coming into contact with the foot some stones, roots and thorns move away without inflicting any pain,” replied the bhikkhu who goes barefoot.

This is not actually a miracle. Because you develop loving-kindness towards the stones, roots and thorns, you even step on them with great care with the presence of mind whether it will cause them any harm. Because of it, your mindfulness develops well. Your feet, too, would be protected even when coming barefoot on this difficult route.

Just as they are useful for the path to enlightenment, difficult bhikkhu-conduct such as these are extremely useful for your paṭipadā to get stronger as well. You have to be tactical here. If not, Māra is sure to put on a pair of sandals on your feet. When I say this, you would ask me, “Wearing sandals is allowed for a bhikkhu, isn’t it?”

Yes. It is certainly allowed. Since the day the wearing of sandals (footwear) was allowed in the Vinaya, wearing of sandals by bhikkhus became more and more; but the noble arahats became less and less. Why? Because the nature of the touch felt under the sole when being pricked by a rock, stone or thorn, or when stepping on a pile of mud, a heap of dirt or a lump of plant-litter will not be known (experienced) by you who wear sandals. When the delicately soft sole receives the touch of the sandal, all you experience is the tanhā for [sensuous] pleasures and, since the feet are protected, the speed of the walk. In ‘speed’, too, what lies [hidden] is nothing but tanhā. The reason why you speed up is to come into contact with something even sooner, to own something still sooner. If it isn’t ‘becoming’ (bhava) that takes form through tanhā, then what else?

Even if you dwell in solitude in a jungle where dangerous wild animals live, if you are consummate in the power of loving-kindness, you won’t get to meet animals. This is not a miracle, but rather a causality. The cause is loving-kindness. Yet, rather than going in front of animals and driving them away by chanting protective stanzas or developing loving-kindness, if you avoided animals through the power of loving-kindness, only then would you be regarded as one who is even more skilful. You did not come into the forest to experiment whether you could tame animals or to test the strength of the protective stanzas. When doing such things, defilements arise in you. An air of heroism will come over you.

You, who came to the forest to let go of ‘I’, would often be narrating heroic stories about ‘I’. This is a stumbling block for the path to emancipation.

These, too, are among the reasons for the scarcity of victors who conquer the path to emancipation in the present day. We go to the forest not to become mahouts nor to become snake charmers but to charm Māra, the evil one, who makes us perform [like charmed snakes] in the world. If Māra tries to make you a hero or a protagonist amongst the world, you have to be skilful to defeat those evil minds, those Māra-minds. Rather than become a hero or a leading character amidst the world, your job should be to train to let go of the heroism, the character, and the world. If not, both the forest and the seclusion would simply be just another urban city for you. The fault lies not in the forest nor the seclusion nor the city but merely within yourself. Let go of the tanhā! Then, everything will slip away from you; you will have automatically let go of all. Everyone who treads the path to enlightenment needs to develop loving-kindness towards oneself. That can only be done by striving with energy for one’s self to cross over to the far shore of saŋsāra, having seen the frightening, cruel and perilous misery of it. This is the foremost loving-kindness one can develop towards oneself. If he gets ashore from saŋsāra, then this foremost loving-kindness can be spread throughout the whole world. Until then, you too are a helpless one. Trying to develop loving-kindness towards others while you yourself being stuck in a state of repeatedly dying, being reborn, falling sick and ageing doesn’t make any sense.

Laying aside the attempt to develop loving-kindness towards the rest of the world, first of all, you develop loving-kindness towards yourself. That can only be done by realizing one’s own helplessness, precariousness, in this world.

[i] Hump-Nosed Viper is commonly referred to in Sinhala as ‘Kunakatuwā’ and the Common Krait as ‘Tel Karawalā’.