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The Concerns of Brother Kunak the Alone by Daraius
Merit for July 2014
Editor's Note:
The following text was discovered within the library-tomb of Master Letep, Keeper of Clarity, which lies below the Tosha Monastery. Though the chamber itself rests in very good condition, no doubt diligently maintained by the monks who still seek the ancestral masters' guidance, many of its documents have, over time, become illegible, or are otherwise unable to be translated from the ancient Loboshigaru in which they were recorded. Fortunately, although the pages herein were scattered loose among the other books and scrolls of the archive, they remain pristine. They have been translated, collated, and bound in this volume to further preserve their wisdom in the modern age.
The author is identified as Brother Kunak of Pack Ularu, believed to have lived in the early years of the Holy Celestian Empire, and whose name appears in various other fragmentary texts under the monikers Kunak the Alone, Kunak-in-his-Cell, Hidden Kunak, or Kunak of the Far Chamber. As yet little has surfaced regarding the formative experiences of his life, but what exists of his writing tells us a great deal about his values and lifestyle. He was, by all extant accounts, a recluse among his pack, adopting and espousing an interpretation of the Toshan teachings that mandated seclusion and isolation as a means of spiritual purification.
The traditional doctrines as related by the Keepers of Tosha Monastery feature prominently in his work, and indeed much of the text describes practices and values that have been observed among the loboshigaru monks in the modern age. But readers are cautioned against accepting Kunak's interpretation as representative of all Toshan monks' approach to the teachings. Followers of this monastic tradition have always been encouraged to seek personal, individual paths towards enlightenment, and the texts of Kunak represent only one such path.
Concerning the Apprehension of Fury
Ours is an ignoble history, full of violence and rage and the murder of our brethren. For there is a natural fury among us and within us, which resides in the deepest part of our soul and which was tempered by Tosha, the Meditative. We give thanks to Him, to Tosha who was our salvation, who taught us to look within. Those who came before were ruled by the fury and roamed the land and devoured and killed, and drew eyes and mouths upon themselves. Others made to flee the fury, cowering in fear of their base nature. But there is no escape from the fury, nor can it rule a purified soul. As Tosha taught us, we must look inward with focus and attention, apprehend and redirect the fury, and aim it instead at all enemies of Clarity, Spirit, Form, and Heart. In this way the fury is made sublime, it is subverted and transformed and perfected.
To attain purity of Spirit the monk must first remove himself from the world of things. Go and sit in your cell or your dwelling, remove your frock and put it aside, and close the door and all the doors to your soul. Fold back your ears and deaden them to all sound, and close your eyes and breathe only through your mouth. Rest your paws in your lap and be still, banishing all thought and desire from your mind. Practice this every day and night, stepping out of the world of the senses, forsaking all experience and stimulus, descending as if into a chasm where no sound or light or scent can enter. Here resides the fury.
In this state, closed off from the physical world and alone with the fury, it can be made to submit to the Spirit, for when the Spirit no longer wants for any pleasure of the senses, nor satisfaction of any desire, the fury becomes malleable. Take it then, and direct it towards the greed and vanity of the world. Channel it away from destruction and towards those acts that strengthen the Spirit. And when in time you return to the world of senses, stay ever on guard, for the enemies of your purity are also vigilant, and will attack at the first sign of weakness.
Concerning Withdrawal and Isolation
Forsake all things that are not needed to preserve life, and cast them aside and do not lament their loss. A monk needs nothing that he cannot carry in his arms or on his back, or which cannot be grown or built by his own hand. Remove yourself from the cities and towns, and seek a place of solitude. If you dwell among the monks of Tosha, the Meditative, do not sit long in their presence, but rather sequester yourself from the pack and take to your cell and remain there as you seek to close the doors to your soul. Have nothing in the way of furnishings but only your hemp mat, and have nothing to call your own except your frock and your wooden bowl for rice or water.
Do not keep many acquaintances, for even your brothers on their path to purity walk their own way, and may with the best intentions corrupt you or divert you from your own path. It was among our own brothers that we submitted to the fury, after all, when we travelled the plains and mountains in great packs and shook the earth and brought the insatiable after us, nipping at our tails. Rather, stay among the hemp fields, or the peaks, or within the mountain forests, or the gardens, or best of all within your cell, shunning all distraction and influence. Yet regard your brothers with courtesy and pity, and do not be surly or ungrateful of their presence, but guard your Spirit and return to your cell or your dwelling when your time with them is concluded.
And so, make yourself a stranger to all material things and hold no attachment to wealth or status or power. Withdraw from others and into yourself, expect nothing to be provided, nor to lend you comfort or solace which is not of your own mind. Own nothing and cherish no object. In this way you will release your Heart from passion and open it to compassion, which the Keepers teach us is the path to Clarity. Give freely of all your surplus and act charitably towards any who approach you in need. Accumulate no wealth, but be of a friendly disposition and empty the folds of your frock of coin to those who come begging. Resist thinking even of your cell or your dwelling as your own, and leave it when its walls and floor become comfortable, and lie on the hard ground without blanket or pillow.
Concerning the Diet and Sharing of Food
Eat only that which is cultivated by your own labor and collected with your own paws, or that which is given freely by those brothers of pure Heart with whom you may at times associate. Eat a simple diet, taking only according to the needs of the Form, and never more. Do not hoard the gifts of others or the fruits of your work, nor keep your surplus against the chance of future drought, for this is a sign of greed and the mark of an uncharitable Heart.
Look not to the wolf and his ravenous ways, eating everything in sight and devouring the flesh of creatures that walk the mountains and the plains. Tend to your garden and keep it green, care for the bees in their hives, and travel along forest trails, following where the animals go and eating what the plants provide. The grains of the earth, and berries and nuts, and any of the leaves of trees and bushes, and the vegetables that grow under the ground and the fruit above it - in these you will find nourishment.
If you take a meal among your brothers, even if you have already satisfied the body's needs, be grateful for their love and for your providence and give thanks and partake of the food. If a brother comes to your dwelling, show him courtesy and share in all your food and drink, even if you have only a handful of grain and one cup of water from the well, and even as he intrudes upon your solitude treat him with grace and compassion. Allow him to look upon the plainness of your meal and your dwelling, and he will know that you have forsaken extravagance and are pure. He will accept your hospitality and his Heart and yours will swell. Share with him kind words and encourage him to maintain his path, and in parting, place your own paw over his Heart and bid him passage in peace as he returns to his cell.
Eat to sustain, not to satiate. Fast as you are able, and keep an empty belly, for this will aid you in keeping an empty soul and ready you to accept Clarity. You will not long for spice or salt, or any sweetness except for honey. Do this of your own volition and you will find stillness, and with time you will have no more need for food or drink or sleep.
Concerning Clothing and Cleanliness
As for clothing, be unconcerned with the fashions of the cities and villages. They drape themselves with silks and hang heavy rings of gold around their wrists and fingers and ears. They bind up their feet in leather or metal, and cover their heads from the sun. Theirs is the pursuit of vanity, guided not by the purified inner soul, but by the eyes of others, who look on them and judge them, seeing the finery of their fabrics and jewels, and make friends of them in hopes of taking their wealth and adding to their own.
Instead, dress only according to the body's needs, for this is to understand Form. Do not bind up your feet or cover your head, but instead feel the earth under your pads and between the claws of your toes, and allow the wind to enter your ears and be attentive to it. Do not hang heavy rings on your fingers and wrists, or around your neck or your ears, for their weight is a burden on your body and soul. When alone, wear nothing, and do not feel shameful, for shame and pride are brothers. But when among others, be mindful of those who are not yet pure, and who will look upon the perfected Form and feel desire. Among them, cover yourself with your hemp frock and be content, for it is coarse and drab.
You shall not wash away the dust of the earth or the odours of the air, but nor shall you revel in filth and decay. Do not apply to your fur the oils and perfumes that are not of your own body or the earth. Instead you must walk among the dust and odours and filth and decay, and pass by them as you tend your path, and carry them on your fur and your frock. That which clings to you will remind you of the exterior world and its impurity, and return your focus inward. Men of vanity will reject your odour and your presence, and you will be free to meditate in solitude.
Concerning Idleness and Labour
While engaged in meditation, the soul is not idle, though the body is at rest and the senses are shut to the world. The inward gaze, the subversion of the fury, and the vigilance against enemies of purity - these acts are the labours of the Spirit and the path to Clarity. But when you go from your cell, or when you are not in meditation, the hands and body must not be listless, but instead must engage in the labours of Form.
If you reside among the brothers of the monastery, busy your hands with work among the fields. Crouch among the rice paddies and harvest the grain, or plant it according to the season. Tend to the hemp plants, planting or harvesting again as the seasons dictate, and put them out to dry on their racks, or take the dried plants to your cell and work them into twine and rope, and create from them a frock when yours is worn to dust, and create the baskets for harvesting rice. Walk among the hives and care for the bees, and welcome their stings upon your face and nimble paws as you care for them and share in the product of their labour, for they are incapable of idleness.
Train daily in the martial arts, for in this way we perfect our Forms. Enter the hall of the Leaping Tiger and learn balance through motion, and then the hall of the Feline to learn stillness through balance. Practice the seven ways of the staff and draw upon the fury and take it into your fists and your feet, and come to know the way of unarmed combat, and the way of the scimitar. As you have practised closing your soul to the senses, so you will practice directing the fury without sight or sound, controlling it with a Focused Mind. In these ways the Form is made strong and graceful, and the fury tempered and honed.
Finally, open your Heart to your brothers and to the creatures of the earth, even as you seek solitude. In those times when you are not fasting, volunteer yourself to work in the kitchens, cooking the grains and bread for your brothers, eschewing spice and salt, and allowing them to enjoy the product of your own labour. Tend to the injured beasts of the mountains and give them sanctuary, for they are not blessed with our robust Forms. Feed them grains and water and mend their wounds, and bring them to health. Care likewise for the mules in the stables, feeding them grain and water, and seeing to their comfort. They are helpers in the harvest from the orchards, and for the aid of the elders and the ill brothers whose Forms cannot sustain them. But do not regard them as tools, but companions and friends, for they know nothing of impurity.
Concerning Enlightenment
Stillness comes only from vigilance and focus, practised over a lifetime of solitude. The Spirit is made strong by forsaking desire and closing out the sensory world. The Heart glows and is made warm by acts of compassion and charity and care for your brothers and the creatures of the earth. The Form becomes perfect through rigour and dedication to the ways of the fist and the staff, and in enduring the pains and discomfort of the ascetic life. Clarity arises from the soul thus purified, from the inward gaze that looks upon the fury and bends it to the will of the enlightened monk.
Go with these words to your cell and meditate on them, and bring yourself to stillness, ever mindful of those that would lead you astray. Keep watch over your soul, and think always of Tosha, the Meditative, and His gift that changed and protected us and permits us the eternal hope of attaining perfection.
So may it be forever.
