Chapter 9: Meditating in the mountains

Then, Aunt heard that I wasn’t interested in the house or fields. She came to my place carrying a sampling of tsampa, beer and meat, and said, “Yesterday I acted ignorantly. Nephew is a dharma practitioner, so forgive me. Now Aunt will sow your fields and bring you provisions.” I said, “So, Aunt, bring me flour from a bushel of barley from each month. The remainder, you take it, and plow the field.” She said, “I’ll do like that,” and for around two months she carried out her promise. Then, one time Aunt appeared and said, “People say if I plow the field, my nephew’s dharma protectors will cast magic. You won’t really cast magic, most likely?” I said, “Why cast magic? Since it will bring virtue, plow the fields, Aunt, and bring me provisions.” She said, “Well, nephew, if there’s no difference to you, for Aunt’s mind to sit more comfortably, nephew should swear an oath.” I didn’t know what her thoughts were here, but I thought it is the dharma if you make people happy, so I swore an oath and she was happy and returned home.

In this life, I think it is suitable to give them not only my field but also my house.” I said, Aunt said, “One who is called a good dharma practitioner is like you, nephew. It’s wonderful,” and she left, joyful. 

Then, when a year had passed, By this, my spiritual practice flourished, and in that way, three years passed.

Then, I had a goal of one bushel of barley flour for each year, and having used it up, if the my sustenance was discontinued my life would be in danger. Going against my earlier goal, I wondered what should I do now. I would not go down to the village. I thought that since it would be for the sake of the dharma, it would not go against my goals to go in search of some food [to sustain my practice of] austerities. I went out in front of Drakar, and there was a place with an amazing view, with hot sun, good water, and a lot of nettles were growing, and it was delightful, and I moved there. and the ones in back said, “It’s impossible for a ghost to appear in the daytime. Look well, is it still there?” “It’s still there!” I explained my story in detail: “I’m not a ghost. I’m a hermit who meditates in the mountains. Without any sustenance, my body has become like this.” They said, “Let’s see if it’s true or false.” They came inside the cave, and there was nothing other than nettles, and they we all filled with faith. They paid their respects and left. Overjoyed, I thought, “Here I have food to eat that is human food.” I ate some cooked meat and my body became comfortable and relaxed, my constitution fresh, my awareness sharp. The strength of my spiritual practice became more effective, and like never before a good experience of bliss and emptiness arose. I thought that compared to a hundred offerings or a thousand offerings when enjoyed sportingly by those who pursue enjoyment in the villages, every morsel of food when enduring hardship in mountain retreat is more meritorious.

Then, in Kyangatsa a big party was held there, and at that time, the hunters sang a song as one [i.e., in one voice]. Peta said, “Who’s is this song?” They said, “This is the song of your brother who is starving to death.” Peta said, “My father and mother died long ago. Our relatives rose up as enemies. My brother has wandered to the ends of the earth and I am a beggar who will not see him again. There is no need to be cheerful.” To the place where she was crying a lot, Dzese came, and said, “Don’t cry. It is probably your brother. I first met him. Now you go to Drakar Taso and see if he is there. If he’s there, we’ll both go meet him.” She thought this was true, so she went to Drakar Taso carrying a full vessel of beer and a small container of mixed flour and porridge. She arrived and looked in from the door. My body had weakened from austerities, my eyes were sunken in their sockets. All my bones stuck out. My colour was green and I was emaciated. A covering of rugged green hair grew on my skin, which had started disconnecting my skin and bones. My limbs were on the verge of breaking. Seeing that, she was terrified and thought at first that I was a ghost. She said, “Are you a man or a ghost?” I said, “I am Mila Topaga.” She recognized my voice, and After awhile she regained consciousness. Wailing with tears, she said, “Mother died in misery while longing for [you], brother. I went to beg in other regions. I wondered if you were dead, brother, or if you were not dead if you had happiness greater than this. Such is my brother’s fortune. Compared to us, brother and sister, there is no one on earth more miserable.” She called out the names of our parents, and sat there sobbing a lot, and although I tried a lot to console her, it was no use. While I was also feeling very sad, I sang a song to my sister. After the song, Peta said, “If it were like that, it would be really amazing. It seems difficult [to believe] it’s true. If it’s true, other religious practitioners would practice like this, at least partly even if not exactly. I have never seen anyone engaged in such suffering. I ate and drank the food and beer that she gave me and immediately my awareness became clear. That night my practice improved. This is the seventh [supreme deed], the deed in which he renounced this life and meditated in the mountains with perseverance and severe austerity.