Why Contemplating Death Makes Sense
Some people find it morbid, negative, bad luck or just plain too scary to earnestly contemplate death. Our society has largely conditioned us to avoid the topic. John Powers quotes from Dr. Richard Kalish in his book, Introduction to Tibetan Buddhism, saying, “Death is blasphemous and pornographic. We react to it and its symbols in the same way that we react to pornography. We avoid it. We deny it exists. We avert our eyes from its presence. We protect little children from observing it and dodge their questions about it. We speak of it only in whispers. We consider it horrible, ugly and grotesque.”
Who benefits, however, from such denial? Would capitalism function without death denial and the resulting habit we have of self-soothing via consumerism? Would we spend the majority of our lives clocking in at harm-causing jobs for a much-needed paycheck if we thought about our death and how precious life is each and every day? Would we be able to commit genocide in a society that revered death, everyone’s death, as sacred? How would our relationship to nature change, if we truly understood the preciousness of life? Would we send our children to war? Would our relationship to alcohol, drugs and other addictive escapes change if we had a more open and loving relationship with grief? Would we be more quick to aplogize, to say “I love you?” Would we be more generous, more forgiving if we truly remembered we’re all going to die? What would we prioritize if it were very clear to us that we could die at any moment?
Death contemplation can potentially heal much of our pain, on both a personal and societal level. It has the potential to keep us from perpetuating harm. For many of us, the primary pain we seek to avoid via death contemplation is the assumed pain we will experience at the moment of death. Contemplating death helps us answer the question, “How can I ensure I will die in peace?”
We are afraid of death. Our fear of death is evidenced by the fear, or afflicted response, we have to the ‘little deaths’ we face in daily life. We fear loss, perceived failure, change, the unexpected, the unwanted, the unknown. Preventing, avoiding or bypassing unexpected or unwanted change is simply not an option, regardless of how diligently we might try. How then, are we to work with our fear?
Unable to control our external circumstance and the impermanent nature of reality itself, we might turn inward for a solution instead.
Thousands of years of Tibetan Buddhism teach us that by contemplating death, we might arrive at an answer to the question, “How could I experience peace at the moment of death?” Exploring this question, we ultimately come upon another, “How can I find peace now, while I’m alive?” We realize that how we live is how we will die, and therein lies our answer, “How are we living?”
The benefit of contemplating death is that it helps us live better. With death on our mind, we might live with greater clarity, purpose and appreciation. By opening to grief, we might become more open to joy.
Atisha’s 9-Step Contemplation
The yogi Atisha lived 1,000 years ago and is well-known for reforming Buddhism in Tibet, where the Indian sage spent much of his life. Atisha taught many practices that we still find relevant, aka beneficial, today. These include the 59 aphorisms of Lojong, Tonglen meditation and the 9-step contemplation on death.
Meditators today might think of death contemplation as an advanced practice, but in Atisha’s time and culture, contemplating the preciousness of this human life and the truth that it could end at any moment was considered a preliminary to spiritual practice. Devoting ourselves to cultivating wisdom and compassion (the only things that will be of benefit to us when we die) is not easy. Meditating on death can help us develop a sense of urgency regarding the training of our mind. If dying in peace, ease, contentment and gratitude is a priority for us, we must find serenity now!
Atisha’s 9-step death contemplation invites us to visualize and sense into the end. In so doing, it leads us back to the present. How would we’d like to spend this precious life?
You don’t have to be Buddhist to practice this contemplation, it is not a religious practice per se, but an exercise in logic. As you step through the logic, however, you’re invited to move beyond thinking and open to feeling. What is felt in your body as you contemplate death? The body may feel what that the cognitive mind is not yet ready to put into words. Notice when you feel sleepy or dull, when you feel agitated or compelled to get up and go do something else. Could there be something you’re avoiding? Is there a discomfort you might address with more tenderness and care? Every reaction to the practice is an invitation to explore further. We do so in baby steps, gently, prioritizing consistent, repeated practice over intensity.
Meditation necessitates a balance of courage and self-compassion. Most of the time, we can navigate this balance on our own. If, however, by doing these practices we feel we’ve gotten off-balance; if we become overwhelmed, or have adverse experiences that go beyond fleeting discomfort, it may be helpful to seek the advice of a trained meditation teacher, a meditation teacher that specializes in trauma-sensitivity, or a trauma-focused counselor or therapist.
The following is Atisha’s 9-step death contemplation as it was taught to me and as I understand it. Any mistakes are my own.
My death is certain
Everyone has to die. Not a single living person has ever avoided death.
I’m dying right now. From the moment I was born, I have been dying.
Realization: If I’m going to die, shouldn’t I prepare for my death?
2. The time of my death is uncertain
People die suddenly all the time, due to external and internal factors.
Even the healthiest and strongest human body is unfathomably fragile.
Realization: If I could die at any time, shouldn’t I prepare for my death right now?
3. The only thing that will help me at the time of death will be my state of mind
The material goods I’ve acquired cannot come with me for comfort
The people I’ve befriended cannot come with me for comfort
Realization: If the only thing that can be of comfort is my state of mind, should my preparations prioritize the training of my mind?
Mind Training As Death Preparation
If we come to the conslusion that yes, it is of benefit to prepare for death, to begin immediately, and that the most helpful preparation is mind training, this does not mean we have to convert to Buddhism or join a monastery.
We might start by asking ourselves the following…
With what state of mind do I typically greet loss, perceived failure, change, the unexpected, unwanted or unknown?
Why should I expect I’ll be able to conjure a preferred/different state of mind at the moment of my death, if I cannot do it now?
What qualities of mind will comfort me at the moment of death?
How often do I find myself practicing those more beneficial qualities today, in everyday life?
When we take the time to imagine the state of mind with which we’d like to meet our death, perhaps words such as peace, ease, contentment, patience, gratitude or love come to mind. Buddhism gives us other examples such as the Four Immeasurable Thoughts or the Six Perfections, which are helpful for some people as guides to living well.
When you’ve identified your desired state of mind, you might ask, “Is this where I typically rest my mind? What am I practicing right now?” Maybe, it could be helpful to start the day with a formal practice of resting the mind in one or more of these virtuous states. Start your day with a gratitude practice, for example, or with five minutes of sensing peace with each breath. Periodically, throughout the day, we can ask ourselves, where is my mind right now? If we happen to catch ourselves judging, resenting, jealous, prideful or in a social-media-induced rage, we suddenly have the opportunity to practice something else. After all, we could die at any moment, and we wouldn’t want to die in that state.
Does Atisha’s meditation feel helpful to you? How might contemplating death change the way you live, or how you experience, and react to, life?
