I was having problems as well.
Vitamin C wasn't available in the quantities I required to counteract the grain allergies, so I tried not eating sticky rice making up for it by consuming huge piles of leafy vegetables.
But when we were all lined up sitting in the hall for the meal and my bowl would be overflowing with leafy things, the ajahn would walk by, look into my bowl and admonish me for being so greedy.
So I was forced to either go back to the rice or lose more weight.
I kept trying to eat the rice, the only real source of calories, but all the old symptoms would return along with persistent diarrhea, and I was miserable.
My practice was going nowhere.
This all fell into the realm of doubt that always comes up in training, and if I had it to do all over again, I may have stayed in Thailand and toughed it out, and somehow made sure that Janet had received the medical care she required.
But I didn't.
I talked her into leaving Thailand, just as her meditation and practice were seriously deepening, and she was hesitant to return to America.
I had to reflect on what is a worst tragedy - death - or not finding enlightenment.
I, of course, have always followed my heart, and my heart told me to leave Thailand.
Was it my heart? Who knows where decisions come from, or which decisions lead to delusion.
We can only go as far as our karma permits us, and then maybe push that envelope just a little.
But I'm afraid I'll never know if my decision led Janet away from finding truth in this lifetime, or possibly gave her some extra time to accomplish it.
When we did return to the States, she needed an operation, and five years later, a tiny cancer was detected by a mammogram and treated successfully.
It was all very puzzling.
A legend in Boulder persists that an old Arapaho chief, Chief Niwot, put a curse on any white man who entered his territory.
If anyone dared leave Boulder after moving in, he or she was eternally cursed to return.
So back to Boulder we went, arriving at the bus station with our piddling life's savings that we barely retrieved from the Thai banking system.
The baht (Thai dollar), plummeted just before we left, and farangs, or Westerners, were all suspected of being money-speculators, so, of course, all foreign funds were frozen.
Luckily, the bank in Bangkok, after three tense days, was able to verify our religious status and released our money.
It seemed that it always took us three days to get out of Thailand, for some strange reason.
Janet was having health issues and we were getting older, two indisputable facts that forced us to buckle down and intelligently make plans for the day when we could no longer work.
We had inklings of what it is we would love to do, if we had the freedom to do it.
It involved first raising our own consciousness with our practice, after which, and without proselytizing, we could perhaps help others to raise theirs in some small way.
Only much later did these inklings become a reality, but day jobs remained an essential part of our leading a responsible life.
This included arranging for our own health care and our old age.
We worked hard for four years in Boulder, eventually saving enough to buy a small mobile home in a quiet park.
We couldn't wait! The apartments we were living in were noisy day and night, which meant that a Walkman was glued to our heads almost constantly.
In contrast, the mobile home was cozy, and in the peace and quiet, we began working on the second step of our practice - mindfulness.