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In the time of the Buddha there was a monk known as Tuccho Pothila.
Tuccho Pothila was very learned, thoroughly versed in the scriptures
and texts. He was so famous that he was revered by people everywhere
and had eighteen monasteries under his care. When people heard the
name ''Tuccho Pothila'' they were awe-struck and nobody would
dare question anything he taught, so much did they revere his command
of the teachings. Tuccho Pothila was one of the Buddha's most
learned disciples.
One day he went to pay respects to the Buddha. As he was paying his
respects, the Buddha said, ''Ah, hello, Venerable Empty Scripture!''...
just like that! They conversed for a while until it was time to go,
and then, as he was taking leave of the Buddha, the Buddha said, ''Oh,
leaving now, Venerable Empty Scripture?''
That was all the Buddha said. On arriving, ''Oh, hello, Venerable
Empty Scripture.'' When it was time to go, ''Ah, leaving now,
Venerable Empty Scripture?'' The Buddha didn't expand on it, that
was all the teaching he gave. Tuccho Pothila, the eminent teacher,
was puzzled, ''Why did the Buddha say that? What did he mean?''
He thought and thought, turning over everything he had learned, until
eventually he realized... ''It's true! Venerable Empty Scripture
- a monk who studies but doesn't practice.'' When he looked into
his heart he saw that really he was no different from lay people.
Whatever they aspired to he also aspired to, whatever they enjoyed
he also enjoyed. There was no real samana2 within him, no truly profound quality capable of firmly establishing
him in the Noble Way and providing true peace.
So he decided to practice. But there was nowhere for him to go to.
All the teachers around were his own students, no-one would dare accept
him. Usually when people meet their teacher they become timid and
deferential, and so no-one would dare become his teacher.
Finally he went to see a certain young novice, who was enlightened,
and asked to practice under him. The novice said, ''Yes, sure you
can practice with me, but only if you're sincere. If you're not sincere
then I won't accept you.'' Tuccho Pothila pledged himself as
a student of the novice.
The novice then told him to put on all his robes. Now there happened
to be a muddy bog nearby. When Tuccho Pothila had neatly put
on all his robes, expensive ones they were, too, the novice said,
''Okay, now run down into this muddy bog. If I don't tell you to
stop, don't stop. If I don't tell you to come out, don't come out.
Okay... run!''
Tuccho Pothila, neatly robed, plunged into the bog. The novice
didn't tell him to stop until he was completely covered in mud. Finally
he said, ''You can stop, now''... so he stopped. ''Okay, come
on up!''... and so he came out.
This clearly showed that Tuccho Pothila had given up his pride.
He was ready to accept the teaching. If he wasn't ready to learn he
wouldn't have run into the bog like that, being such a famous teacher,
but he did it. The young novice, seeing this, knew that Tuccho Pothila
was sincerely determined to practice.
When Tuccho Pothila had come out of the bog, the novice gave
him the teaching. He taught him to observe the sense objects, to know
the mind and to know the sense objects, using the simile of a man
catching a lizard hiding in a termite mound. If the mound had six
holes in it, how would he catch it? He would have to seal off five
of the holes and leave just one open. Then he would have to simply
watch and wait, guarding that one hole. When the lizard ran out he
could catch it. |