Living with Dying

Would you like to know what the most amazing thing in the world is? The answer is so simple it is almost unbelievable. The most amazing thing in the world is that people die around us all the time and we never think it's going to happen to us. That was written about three thousand years ago in the Upanishads, the sacred writings of the Hindu tradition. Things don't change, do they?

Life is precious. It is impermanent and fragile and we don't know when we're going to die. Ideally the contemplation of the reality and inevitability of our own death wakes us up to the immediacy of what we're doing, why we're doing it, what we're saying. The knowledge of the certainty of death should encourage us to live our lives in a truly caring and compassionate way.

Wouldn't it be wonderful always to know that in whatever we have said or done, we have nothing to regret, nothing to feel guilty about, nothing that might give rise to feelings of remorse in the future?

It's so easy to fall into our familiar, habitual ways of conducting our lives, especially in our verbal expression. Even our humour in the West is often at the expense of someone else. A lot of it is funny, I don't deny that at all, but it's not beautiful and seldom uplifting. Someone once pointed out to me that a lot of western humour has to do with the lower chakras. We should remember that thought precedes speech so if we want to know what pre-occupies another person, frequently all we have to do is to listen carefully to what they have to talk about.

A few days ago I was in Auckland at the funeral of a doctor who had just died unexpectedly and in some ways tragically at forty seven years old, leaving a wife and three teenage children and a great many people who had loved him dearly. There must have been two hundred and fifty people at the crematorium. After the funeral one man came up to me and said,
'I only wish I had had another fifteen minutes with him.'
It was said in a light manner, almost in passing, but behind it lay anguish. Wouldn't it be wonderful to be able to avoid that?
Benjamin Franklin once said, 'I rest in peace knowing I owe nothing to any man.'
I took that in the fullest sense of the words. To contemplate the profound peace of owing nothing, either materially, emotionally or spiritually. Perhaps there are people who we know we should apologise to or to ask forgiveness of but there's always something in us that prefers procrastination. I'll do it next time, next month, when I see them again, all the time half hoping that it will never happen.

In Buddhist monasticism, one of the considerations at the end of each day is to reflect on what has happened during the course of that day and to make mental note of any transgression of the Monastic Rule, however minor. As our discipline is extensive and elaborate, to go through a day without breaking even a minor rule is not so easy. But as a practice of continual reflection upon our conduct, it keeps us aware of what life is really all about and encourages us not to add to our burden with unnecessary and painful memories of conflict and misunderstandings and heedless speech. Through careful consideration and determination, we discover that our lives can be lived out with a lightness and a freshness, as we learn to savour each moment with precise attention. In cultivating confidence in ourselves and our self-worth, we come to realise that it is not beyond our ability to experience truth.

For each and every one of us, enlightenment is only a thought-moment away

The Buddha carefully chose the word 'nibbana' or 'nirvana' , at the time a commonly used household term, to describe the ultimate experience, . He used it meaning to 'blow out' or to 'extinguish' the fires of greed, hatred and delusion, the sources of pain that ensnare us. When they are not, nirvana is....

Ajahn Ãnando, Bodhinyanarama Monastery, New Zealand, November 11th 1990.