An incredible dhamma story out of the Sagaing Hills

The Sagaing Hills are full of wondrous and amazing stories to inspire any Dhamma practitioner, but few can hold a candle to the tales told about the 18th-century monastic Taung Pyi Lar Sayadaw.

Like many great Burmese monastics of the past 1,000 years, he choose the Sagaing Hills as a preferred place of practice to get away from the rigid orthodoxy (and laxness) of the central capital, instead enjoying the peace and quiet of living alone in nature.

The Burmese king wished to test his fortitude to ensure he was truly a monk worthy of respect. So he devised a plan in which a half-naked woman came running through the forest, and finding the monk, begged him to be permitted to stay at his monastery, fearfully claiming that a horde of rapists and murderers were hot on her tail. The monk refused, saying that it was against vinaya, but as the woman insisted, the monk relented, allowing her to stay in his kuti as he slept outside in the forest.

However, at night Taung Pyi Lar Sayadaw was so racked by lust, and having such a beautiful and nubile young woman close at hand after so many years of celibacy, that he was unable to concentrate on any of his meditation objects. So he took a nearby knife, and began to slice at his palms, with the gross pain finally allowing him to feel bodily sensations. The lust not subsiding, he sliced the other palm, and then both soles of his feet, and finally his thigh.

The next day, the king showed up with his royal entourage, and he found himself accused of impropriety. The monk argued he had done nothing wrong, but the king exclaimed, "How can you be believed with a half-naked woman walking out of your kuti?"

The monk responded by taking a Vow of Truth, and dropping the knife in a nearby pond. "Let the knife tell the truth then! If I am lying, it will sink. If I tell the truth, let it float across the water to the other side."

The knife did not sink in the end, and the monk became one of the most revered in the kingdom after this.

Another wondrous Dhamma tale from the Sagaing Hills

The Sagaing Hills are full of wondrous and amazing stories to inspire any Dhamma practitioner, but few can hold a candle to the tales told about the 18th-century monastic Taung Pyi Lar Sayadaw.

Like many great Burmese monastics of the past 1,000 years, he choose the Sagaing Hills as a preferred place of practice to get away from the rigid orthodoxy (and laxness) of the central capital, instead enjoying the peace and quiet of living alone in nature.

The Burmese king wished to test his fortitude to ensure he was truly a monk worthy of respect. So he devised a plan in which a half-naked woman came running through the forest, and finding the monk, begged him to be permitted to stay at his monastery, fearfully claiming that a horde of rapists and murderers were hot on her tail. The monk refused, saying that it was against vinaya, but as the woman insisted, the monk relented, allowing her to stay in his kuti as he slept outside in the forest.

However, at night Taung Pyi Lar Sayadaw was so racked by lust, and having such a beautiful and nubile young woman close at hand after so many years of celibacy, that he was unable to concentrate on any of his meditation objects. So he took a nearby knife, and began to slice at his palms, with the gross pain finally allowing him to feel bodily sensations. The lust not subsiding, he sliced the other palm, and then both soles of his feet, and finally his thigh.

The next day, the king showed up with his royal entourage, and he found himself accused of impropriety. The monk argued he had done nothing wrong, but the king exclaimed, "How can you be believed with a half-naked woman walking out of your kuti?"

The monk responded by taking a Vow of Truth, and dropping the knife in a nearby pond. "Let the knife tell the truth then! If I am lying, it will sink. If I tell the truth, let it float across the water to the other side."

The knife did not sink in the end, and the monk became one of the most revered in the kingdom after this.

The Sagaing Hills: A Perfect Antidote to Civilization and Privilege

The Meditator's Guide to Burma, Part 2, is due out soon! Nearly four times as big as Part 1 and the result of nearly five years of intensive work by a team of volunteers, it will function as a kind of Lonely Planet's guide to the Golden Land... but specifically for those spiritual practitioners who wish to develop in Dhamma. Following is a draft from the Sagaing Hills chapter, which would be included in a potential Part 3-- but unfortunately, no work is happening currently as there is not sufficient financial support to sustain the project. This section introduces the Sagaing Hills before describing some specific site history. 

"The monks of 150-200 years ago were especially attracted to the ravines and hilltops of this remote region of the Sagging Hills, in sharp contrast to the congested, flat lowlands around Mandalay Hill they were leaving behind. Some took to criticizing some Mandalay monastics for their laziness or laxness in adherence to Vinaya, and saw in the promise of a simple life in the Hills the perfect antidote to the adverse pull of modern civilization, and privilege.

Given the wild nature of Sagaing in those days, forest monks were left to their own devices in finding a place to reside and practice. Caves were the shelter of choice for many. However, because there are few natural cave systems in the Sagaing Hills, forest monks had to hew many hundreds of make-shift enclosures out of hillsides or cliffs. Enough fresh water to sustain them was available either from collecting rainwater or a walk to the river, depending on how far away the monastic decided to set up camp.

Ironically, civilization followed these seekers of solitude. Over time, small settlements of lay communities slowly grew around these pioneering monks, which themselves turned into villages. Monks intent on complete solitude could, of course, venture deeper into the hills, where the dense forest and hilly terrain made it possible to live in near-total seclusion even in fairly close proximity to lay supporters. Indeed, the many winding, narrow hill paths throughout the Sagaing Hills have likely been used by countless monks on alms round."

Sagaing: the Hidden Treasure of the Golden Land

“After the return to Australia I found out that for a Buddhist to go to the Sagaing Hills is something like a Moslem going to Mecca, and when I casually mentioned to an Australian Buddhist who had been in Burma that I had stayed there, I could almost feel the halo growing round my head.” Marie Byles, Journey Into Burmese Silence

It’s difficult to overstate the majesty and wonder of the Sagaing Hills (The name “Sagaing” actually denotes three different things: the largest division in the country extending from Mandalay to the northwest; the town of Sagaing; and the Sagaing Hills. This chapter is concerned with the latter two.). And for the yogi intent on Burmese Buddhist practice, there are few—if any—places that compare. For yogis who have never been to Burma but have heard about the country from the lips of Dhamma friends or books by Burmese Sayadaws from another era, Sagaing may come the closest to approximating the image one had formed. More than one meditator has been known to remark, “Ah… this is Burma!” after spending time in the Sagaing Hills.

From almost the moment one leaves the dusty lanes of the downtown Sagaing for the rarefied air of the Hills, one enters the stillness and quiet of winding forest paths, past countless caves, kutis, monasteries, pagodas, shrines, Dhamma halls, monuments, and water stands. It brings a sense of calm to the heart. And like with Shwedagon Pagoda, even if a person is just passing at a distance, he/she often bows in veneration towards the pagoda-covered hills.

In Colorful Myanmar, Khin Myo Chit writes, “Of the first things I learned about pagodas, nothing had to do with the intellectual side of Buddhism, but all was full of colour and romance. Once, while we were crossing the river from Mandalay to Sagaing in a small flat-bottomed boat, we headed towards the long dark range of thickly wooded hills, crested with shining pagodas, and the tinkling bells from their htis chimed welcome to us. Colonnaded stairways zig-zagged through the flowering foliages. They looked so inviting that I could hardly wait to run up the steps and reach the pagodas there.”

The 8th Ledi Sayadaw and S.N. Goenka: A Meeting of Cousins

Just as students in the tradition of Sayagyi U Goenka come from around the world to pay respects to Ledi Sayadaw, so also have the heads of these traditions remained close over the years. Some years ago, when U Goenka was in the country, the Eighth Ledi Sayadaw invited him to visit Monywa, but he had to decline due to previous commitments. However, the 80-year-old sayadaw was so keen to meet him that he arranged for his own trip to the Sagaing Hills, where the lay meditation master was staying. Ultimately, two of the monk’s disciples carried him up a flight of stairs to the second floor, where the meeting took place. The sayadaw expressed his joy that Ledi Sayadaw’s teachings had not only reached India, but had continued to spread around the world. He gave his blessings to U Goenka to continue his good work. The Ninth Ledi Sayadaw also met with U Goenka at Shwe Taung Oo Pagoda, where he was carried up in a palanquin.

The meeting is commemorated by this two-framed photo display, depicting Goenkaji's visit to Monywa, and which hangs in the building where Ledi Sayadaw practiced walking meditation. Once a remote forest monastery, it is now in the center of an urban area of Monywa.

The Gyaungs of the Sagaing Hills

The Sagaing Hills are famous for what are called “gyaung,” ( ေခ်ာင္) These are small, isolated nooks where a monastery or nunnery is located. The word can be translated as a “secluded place where spiritual seekers go to escape the trials and tribulations of worldly life."

Over a century ago, the British traveler George Bird wrote about these in more detail: “A Gyaung in the vernacular means a valley, or ravine; but in Sagaing the name is applied to the monasteries and religious buildings built in the valleys, in which live, surrounded on all sides by the bare and rugged hill-sides, communities of very religious and austere monks and nuns. From the river these establishments are not visible, but on ascending to the top of any of the hills at the back of the village of Wachet the eye is enchanted by the view of these vales, in which nestle, amidst groves of graceful trees, and surrounded by pretty flowering shrubs, the monasteries of this austere sect of hermits....These at the time numbered 657. There were originally only nine, but there are now twenty-four of such establishments. Paved, zig-zag paths lead from one to the other, and to the pagoda platforms on the summits, and some are supplied with tanks and wells cut out of the rock. In the hill-sides, at the back of the monasteries, a series of caves have been cut out of the solid rock by the hermits themselves, the aperture being closed in each instance by a massive teak door, and in these dark, unwholesome cells, with the doors shut, excluding both light and air, these recluses spend from five to eight hours a day in silent meditation…Attached to each gyaung are several lay-pupils, whose duty it is to bring in supplies of wood and water, and to collect the offerings of the pious supporters in the villages and town below. They are so celebrated amongst Buddhists that no pilgrim from the lower province would think of returning to his home without paying them a visit.”