Numinous Nonsense

Uncertain is life, certain is death; it is necessary that I should die; at the close of my life there is death. Life is indeed unsure but death is sure, death is sure. – The Buddha

In my first post, What is Death?, I gave two different ways of understanding it, one as the end of a biological being, and the other as simply seeing death as the ending of things. The broad understanding, I find, is much better because it gives us several ways to work with death and to see the interconnection between death and life. More specifically when one begins to contemplative death, in a broader sense, it can spur on a deeper engagement with life. It can also lead, if pursued deeply enough, to spiritual insight about the nature of reality beyond the dichotomy of life and death.

Knowing I will Die I Live More Fully

One of the by-products of exploring death is that it’s opposite, life, begins to become more important. When we see the omnipresence of death we simultaneously see the importance, and even preciousness of life. When one knows that they are going to die, or that things will eventually change, there can be a tremendous inspiration to live more fully. Traditionally this usually comes about by some sort of calamity—someone dies or gets very sick, etc.—but it can also come about by a gentle awareness of the changing phenomenal world. Even seeing the minor shifts in our life, like day turning to night, can inspire a deeper engagement with our normal affairs. Sensitivity though is key.

To become more sensitive to the changing nature of things one need only reflect on death. One of the traditional reflections in the Buddhist tradition is a simple sentence that goes, “Death alone is certain, and the time of death uncertain. What should I do?” Simply repeating this phrase and inquiring into its meaning can sensitize one to the omnipresence of death and change. This will lead naturally to a desire to fulfill a higher purpose in life, to align our actions with our values, and to become a better human being (whatever form that may take).

What is Beyond Life and Death?

Another important shift that the awareness of death can bring has to do with questioning our very identity. We often believe that we are a solid, continuous, and permanently persisting being. We have a name, a history, memories, and (we believe) a future. But when we see the changing nature of things, both internally and externally, our most fundamental assumptions about who we are challenged. This challenge and its subsequent realization are generally known as spiritual awakening.

And what we awaken to is something that is beyond birth and death, but is somehow intimately connected with both. A reflection from one of the 20th centuries most revered sages, Ramana Maharshi, highlights the importance of death in the awakening process. At the young age of of 16 he confronted his own death:

I was sitting alone in a room on the first floor of my uncle’s house. I seldom had any sickness and on that day there was nothing wrong with my health, but a sudden violent fear of death overtook me. There was nothing in my state of health to account for it nor was there any urge in me to find out whether there was any account for the fear. I just felt I was going to die and began thinking what to do about it. It did not occur to me to consult a doctor or any elders or friends. I felt I had to solve the problem myself then and there. The shock of the fear of death drove my mind inwards and I said to myself mentally, without actually framing the words: ‘Now death has come; what does it mean? What is it that is dying? This body dies.’ And at once I dramatised the occurrence of death. I lay with my limbs stretched out still as though rigor mortis has set in, and imitated a corpse so as to give greater reality to the enquiry. I held my breath and kept my lips tightly closed so that no sound could escape, and that neither the word ‘I’ nor any word could be uttered. ‘Well then,’ I said to myself, ‘this body is dead. It will be carried stiff to the burning ground and there burn and reduced to ashes. But with the death of the body, am I dead? Is the body I? It is silent and inert, but I feel the full force of my personality and even the voice of I within me, apart from it. So I am the Spirit transcending the body. The body dies but the spirit transcending it cannot be touched by death. That means I am the deathless Spirit.’ All this was not dull thought; it flashed through me vividly as living truths which I perceived directly almost without thought process. I was something real, the only real thing about my present state, and all the conscious activity connected with the body was centered on that I. From that moment onwards, the I or Self focused attention on itself by a powerful fascination. Fear of death vanished once and for all. The ego was lost in the flood of Self-awareness. Absorption in the Self continued unbroken from that time.

There is a famous saying in Zen that communicates the whole goal of spiritual practice, which is “to die while alive.” But it isn’t the physical body that is dieing (though it eventually will) but rather the perpetual habit of referencing everything that happens in life back to “me.” One sees that the “me” which everything is referring to isn’t a thing, but rather a complex habit. And when that habit is seen through (i.e. we die to it) then everything is said to continue as before, though now there is a very different relationship to life. Death is seen as a natural, and inevitable, part of life, and if we’re lucky we also begin to let go of things more easily, knowing that their nature is to arise and to pass away. Living in alignment with this truth, brings a kind of happiness that no thing in life could ever bring us. We learn to let life be itself, instead of conforming to our ideals about it. And somewhat ironically death is the teacher that brings this understanding about.

Read part 3, The Transhumanists Take on Death.

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