Wait A Minute! ~ LIVING & DYING
Some time ago, I had
a letter from a lady who was quite distraught after
running over a stray kitten she had taken in as a
stray and nursed back to health. She had lavished
care and attention on it and been extra cautious when
driving in and out of the garage where she had housed
it, but in spite of all this, the poor cat managed
to get in the way of the wheels one day, and ............
RIP!
Just as with the birth and growth of anything,
so, too, with Compassion: pain is involved; in fact,
the very word means ‘to suffer, or feel, with’.
It was compassion that had induced the lady to take
in the abandoned kitten in the first place, and devote
time and care to restoring it to health, seeing it
was properly housed, fed and so on. Now she blames
herself for its death and feels that she killed it,
which is unjust to herself and only increases her
suffering, and will never bring the kitten back to
life anyway. Of course she feels sorry that something
she cared for and loved is now dead; but although
it died beneath the wheels of her car as she reversed
out of the garage, she did not kill it, simply because
she didn’t know it was there at the time, and
would never intentionally have harmed it in any way.
We live within limits; all that is born will
die, and it’s only a matter of time before we
go off into the Void, and although there is nothing
we can do to prevent this, there is plenty that we
can do about the limits of ignorance, which is our
greatest foe. While we are here, we should do what
we can to alleviate and remove pain—in others
as well as in ourselves—but, more than anything
else, should try to understand the nature of life—how
uncertain and insecure it is—and strive to help
others to understand, too, for just as we are grateful
if someone helps us to understand something, there
are lots of people who would appreciate a bit of help
from us. I know someone who imparts a little Dharma
to people while giving driving lessons; he once told
me about this, so: “I explain that driving involves
not only driving skills but also a moral attitude,
and can be compared to daily life, since all the time
one is on the road the situation changes and is never
the same; hence one has to be aware of everything
that is happening on the road. I start my lessons
with a warning of what people should try to avoid
if they want to drive a motor vehicle: first, not
to drink and drive; second, not to get upset or angry
and drive; third, not to think too much about other
things and drive; and fourth, not to drive when one
is very tired. If one pays attention to such things,
driving will be an art and a pleasure for everyone”.
This is practical Dharma at the wheel.
Feeling and fearing—but seldom deeply understanding—the
insecurity of life, we take out insurance policies
of various kinds in an attempt to protect and buffer
ourselves; man has done this for millions of years.
And neither is it just humans who do this; it seems
instinctual and can be seen throughout the animal
realm, with birds building nests, squirrels storing
up nuts for the winter, beavers constructing their
lodges, down to tiny insects like spiders spinning
their webs, and ants and termites providently working
for the future. Nor is it confined to animals and
insects, because—as I mentioned elsewhere in
this book—plants also plan and provide for the
future. It must be something that Nature, down the
foggy ruins of time, has built into the genes of all
living things. This causes us to query somewhat the
well-known words of Jesus: “Consider the lilies
of the field, how they grow: they toil not, neither
do they spin, yet Solomon in all his glory was not
arrayed like one of these”; the ‘lilies
of the field’ are not so improvident as they
might appear; only by a long process of evolution
have they become what they are; they didn’t
start out like that in Jurassic Park.
Money, fame, power and the uses and abuses
thereof, are all used as insurance policies, especially
in times—most of human history and pre-history,
in fact—when there were no things like welfare
states or social security systems; it was expected
that children should care for their parents in their
old age. It is still this way in poor and not-so-poor
countries. Wives, husbands, parents and friends are
also insurance policies.
Religion and philosophy—the ‘love
of wisdom’—are the ultimate insurance
policies, on which people fall back and hold onto
for support when all else fails. Often, however, it
is too late then; the time for becoming religious
and seeking wisdom is before disaster strikes, not
afterwards.
We hear a lot nowadays of ‘death-bed
conversions’ from one religious ‘brand
name’ to another. I will not say ‘from
one religion to another’ because that is rarely
so. It is more the case of people whose minds—understandably—are
fearful at the known or expected approach of death,
and who succumb to the seductive wiles and promises
of those who are drawn to death-beds like vultures
in the hope of winning last minute converts with inducements
of different kinds, including fear and threats. It
is usually just a change of name rather than of substance,
for if the dying had spent more time in trying to
understand their religion when they were younger,
healthier and better able to, and had also done some
research into other religions—as we all should—they
would have more to lean on and would probably be less
afraid and more composed at the end. Of course, I
am speaking from conjecture and generalizing here,
and there is no blueprint that everyone can and should
follow; surely, the end, and the way it is faced,
will be different with every individual. If I have
lived and died before, I do not remember it, and am
yet to face my death in this life (although I have
probably come near to it many more times than I was
aware of); how I shall fare—supposing it doesn’t
come suddenly and without warning—I cannot imagine,
but must wait and see. Meanwhile, life provides us
with many opportunities to prepare for it.
The concept of God as held by Christians
and others, can be, at one level—I will admit—reassuring
(it is also terrifying if one thinks about it in a
wider way!) When I was a Christian I used to believe
in God and pray, but that was long ago, and I now
find the concept unsatisfactory and childish. Far
from accepting the statement in Genesis that God created
man in his own image, I feel that it was the other
way around: that Man created God from his hopes and
fears in his image! What, then, do I have in place
of an anthropomorphic God* from which I draw strength
and comfort? I have Dharma, the central principle
of which is the Law of Cause-and-Effect; but this
is not a person with likes and dislikes, unpredictable
and volatile emotions and so on—as is the Christian
God—and prayers of supplication to it, promises,
pleas, bargaining, ceremonies, offerings, mediating
priests, etc., will have no effect whatsoever, just
as praying for light in a dark cave will never dispel
the darkness; we must strive for understanding and
light, and the more we acquire of these, the better
equipped we will be to face whatever life throws at
or brings us.
This might appear rather stark and stoical
philosophy and I know that it will not suit everyone,
but there are plenty of people who do and would subscribe
to it, who are fed-up with airy-fairy ideas and untenable
doctrines. I might have stated it rather forcefully
and some people might think I am trying to deprive
others of hope, but this is not so; I am trying to
impart something that people may accept or reject
as they see fit, something that I feel is better and
more reliable than the ‘pie-in-the-sky’
hope held unthinkingly by vast numbers of people around
the world; with so many negative ideas thriving therein,
I feel I have something positive and constructive
to contribute.
If we examine hope, we will find that it
is always accompanied by fear; hope is, in fact, the
other side of the coin of fear. Where there is hope,
there is fear; where there is fear, there is hope;
they go together inseparably and perhaps we can say
that they are really two different names for the same
thing, because when we hope for something, there is
fear of not getting it, and when we are afraid of
something, there is hope that it will not happen.
Can we separate hope of winning or succeeding from
the fear of losing or failing? And the things that
we hope/fear for: is there a realistic basis for them?
If we would examine them, we would almost certainly
find that we have merely adopted the standards of
others, which they adopted from others, back and back;
in other words, our hopes and fears—especially
of things abstract and unseen, like what will happen
after we die, heaven and hell, etc.—are inherited
from others. This is not to say they have no substance
and are false and illusory, but neither does it say
that they are time tested and true. It merely says
that they should be thought about and investigated.
Since Buddhism rejects the notion of a personal
‘Creator-God’ who or which will take the
faithful to heaven upon death and cast the sinners
into hell forever, how are Buddhists taught to face
death?
Buddhism teaches and encourages us to develop
self-reliance while we are alive and able to, and
to accept responsibility for our own living; it teaches
us to face the inevitable end—if death is the
end—with understanding, courage and detachment.
It teaches that rather than praying/hoping/fearing,
it is better to focus on good and positive things
like the virtues of the Three Jewels: the Buddha,
as the one who discovered and revealed the Way, the
Dharma, as both the Way and the eventual Goal, and
the Sangha, or those who have experienced or attained—in
some degree, at least—the Goal that the Buddha
indicated. We should reflect on the virtuous things
we have done and accomplished in our lives—not
in a manner, however, that would cause us to think
egoistically, “How good I have been!”,
which we must always be alert against, but because
such accomplishments are indications that we have,
at times, drawn near to Dharma. We should recall things
we have done that were of benefit to others, particularly
things of public benefit rather than restricted to
specific individuals, things which helped us to transcend
personality, both of self and of others. Thinking
of how one’s life has been useful to others—of
how it has not been a complete waste or in vain, and
that good seeds were sown—will help to counteract
fear and uncertainty and enable the mind to become
peaceful and joyful, buoyant and light, and will make
the passing easier. As far as possible, the mind should
not be allowed to dwell on negative things like fear,
worry, anger and regret for things done and undone.
Remorse is useful and productive of good while we
are alive and able to correct things, but should not
be indulged in when it comes time to die, as it makes
the mind sorrowful and unclear and drags us down,
rather than helping us to ‘soar from life’s
low vale’. Most useful of all at the time of
death, however, is the insight—penetrating and
clear—into the nature of life that we experienced
while alive, as this influences us very much, of course;
it is this, most of all, that can carry us through,
and this is one of the reasons we are advised to take
advantage of our opportunities while we are healthy
and well to inquire, investigate, meditate on and
apply ourselves to Dharma, instead of living mainly
and merely to enjoy ourselves, so that at the end
we will be better prepared.
It is good, too—very good—if it can be
arranged—either by us in advance or by others
for us at the time—for someone to be present
at the death-bed to talk us over, someone who understands
and who might inspire, uplift and encourage us, someone
who cares. It need not be an ordained person; there
is no monopoly on sympathy, love and wisdom. It is
often enough for someone like that to be there, without
saying or doing anything special. Help can be rendered
on a non-verbal level, too, if words are not appropriate,
such as when the languages of the dying and the helper
are different. I was once called to visit an old lady
in a nursing home who had been comatose for some weeks
and whose son felt was near the end. Her mouth had
been open for some days, unable to close, it seemed.
Because she knew no English, I did not endeavor to
speak to her as I sat by the bedside, but asked her
son for a moist face towel, which I held and concentrated
on while trying to tune-in to her consciousness and
send her positive thoughts. After some minutes, I
gave the face towel back to the son and told him to
gently wipe his mother’s face with it. As he
did so, her mouth closed. Later that night, a nurse
phoned to inform the son that his mother had just
passed away peacefully.
For all our religious and philosophical
beliefs and theories about what happens after death,
no-one really knows. Now, let us suppose—just
suppose, if we are not afraid to—that this life
is all we’ve got and there is nothing further
beyond death; certainly, it is a belief or even a
conviction that many people hold, and it is, as far
as we know, a possibility, so let’s consider
that it might be so (I’m not saying that it
is, mind, but just looking at the possibility of it,
and cannot prove, one way or the other, that it is
or is not). Would that preclude or invalidate any
attempt to lead a moral or religious life? Would it
render meaningless any effort to make sense out of
life, with all its pain and confusion? I don’t
think so; on the contrary, if we lived nearer to the
present than we do, instead of worrying and speculating
about what—if anything—lies beyond death,
we would probably make a better job of living than
we do. There would be a good reason to live fully
and responsibly if we thought that this is the only
time we have; we would not defer our living until
later—after-death living, so to speak. We don’t
know if there is life after death, but there is certainly
life before it!
Life, from the infinite past, is fulfilled and expressed
in each one of us. Feeling this deeply, we ask ourselves,
“What is my role in this great drama? What can
I leave to those who will come after me?” Such
soul-searching will counteract the tendency in us
to be complacent and take everything for granted,
and discover that we all have qualities, talents and
abilities that can be of benefit to others. And shall
we always put a price on and market these abilities?
Or shall we offer them,
with love?
[*Anthropomorphic means ‘having
human form’, ‘in human form’.]
THE END
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