Rude Awakenings - Forest Sangha Publications

^0 F I R S T M O O N 06owned the copyright, but he did not hold out much hope of achievingthis in less than a year.When we next met, while I had the maps, bivvy bags, and other practicalthings, Ajahn Sucitto had a drawstring bag larger and heavier thana grapefruit sewn for him by one of the nuns. In it was a Buddha rupa,over two hundred years old, given to him by a lay supporter for the journey,and things that members of the community had asked him to takeround the Buddhist holy sites. There were medallions, bits of colouredthread, a small shell from the shrine of one of the nuns, lots of otheroddments—and the ashes of a recently deceased nun. He was going towear this monster on a strap round his neck. I was flabbergasted, butAjahn Sucitto was pleased. He also had a much smaller bag with a smallBuddha rupa in it for me to wear.The last kilometre post had read Lumbini 12 km, and we were gettingtired. It had been good walking in the evening. The light from thesun had been replaced by that of the moon, which had risen behind us.The road had been quiet, with just the occasional bicycle swishing by.Now it was time to stop and sleep. We found a spot just off the road thatseemed suitable—it was hard to be certain in the moonlight. Weunpacked and unrolled our bivvy bags, a dull muddy green chosen tokeep us hidden, filled them with our sleeping bags and mats, and thensat in meditation to let the day drain from us. This did not take long inmy case. As I slid into my sleeping bag, I could just make out AjahnSucitto still sitting upright in the shade of a tree some twenty yards away.4 0