This story was told to me by a traveling monk when I went to Mount Wutai. It is a very interesting story.

When I met this old monk, he was already around 60 years old. The story happened 20 years ago, when he had just become a monk.

This monk became a monk not because he was desperate, but because he truly believed in Buddhism. So as soon as he became a monk, he made vigorous efforts. Why should he be so diligent? He wanted to go into seclusion.

In short, it is to find a place where there are few or no people to practice for a period of time.

Generally, those who retreat have achieved a certain level of cultivation. It is rare for someone like him to retreat just after becoming a monk. But he didn't care. He found a stone cave in the back of a famous mountain. He placed necessary daily necessities in the cave.

A wooden board was placed in front of it as a door and the retreat began.

The first two days were fine, but then distracting thoughts started to come. His way to deal with it was to meditate. So he divided one month's rations into three months to reduce the time for him to go down the mountain and make himself less tempted. If the rations were not enough,

For part of it, he picked some fruits on the mountain and put them in the cave to supplement his supplies.

A few days later, when he was meditating at night, he felt someone outside the door. Later, it gradually developed into the sound of nails gently scratching on the door. If he said he was not scared, it would be a lie. At first, he comforted himself, Mo Yu

It was born from the mind. This was just a demon born from tranquility. But there was this sound even when he was not meditating, so he could not deceive himself. The only consolation was that whenever his mind was not distracted, the sound would disappear.

But as mentioned before, he had just become a monk. How could he have such profound skills? Later, he couldn't sit down anymore. Every night, he was just afraid. When he went down the mountain, he violated his vow again. He couldn't meditate anymore, that

The sound became more and more unrestrained. The sound of fingernails scratching turned into the sound of scratching the door, and then turned into the sound of banging the door. In the end, there was a sound of suffocating howling at the top of one's throat.

Finally one day, the monk suddenly discovered that a gust of wind was hovering in front of his futon. He slowly approached him. At this point, the monk calmed down. He looked at the whirlwind calmly, and the whirlwind was worthy of him. He followed him calmly.

He walked past him and hovered for a long time where he put the fruits.

After the whirlwind disappeared, the monk did not have time to be afraid. He concentrated on savoring the calm mood just now. Then he sat down. In his own words: "I entered Zen." From then on, the whirlwind never came again, and there was no sign outside the door.

There were no more strange noises. The monk began to make real and vigorous efforts. According to him, he could already understand some cause and effect. I asked him if he had ever understood the whirlwind or the ghost knocking on the door. The monk smiled together and said, "He is an alcoholic." Don't.
Chapter completed!