Often, death is the elephant in the room. For most of us, most of the time, death (our own, our loved ones) hovers like a specter, just out of vision. Unspoken. Unacknowledged. Unwelcomed.
Dylan Thomas gave us food for though in his poem:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
(Read the whole poem at: http://tinyurl.com/b3esm)
I have always loved the poem. Thomas wrote it about the death of his father. "Fight against death to the very end," is the gist of it. Jane's mum is a fighter, and it is not unkind to say that she has raged. Life is precious; not to be given up easily. Thomas's sentiment is strong. But, I'm not sure it is always right. To be sure some deaths must be raged against. The deaths we have seen of civilians, including many children, in Israel and Gaza over the last week provoke our rage. Young lives cruelly and unjustly cut short cannot be accepted as necessary, or as payback, or as collateral damage.
Yet, to rage against the inevitability of one's own death is a futile gesture and harms only the one who rages. Perhaps better to make peace with the certainty of change and decay, find our center in every stage of life, and be reconciled to our return to the source of all things.
Some spiritual traditions suggest that we think about our own death daily.
On one occasion the Buddha asked several of the monks, "How often do you contemplate death?"
One of them replied, "Teacher, I contemplate death every day."
"Not good enough," the Buddha said, and asked another monk, who replied,
"Teacher, I contemplate death with each mouthful that I eat during the meal."
"Better, but not good enough," said the Buddha, "What about you?"
The third monk said, "Teacher, I contemplate death with each inhalation and each exhalation."
Though that may sound morbid, awareness of our own mortality roots us in reality, gives us a sense of life, and spurs us to good actions. Life and death are the constant yang and yin of ever-present change. Awareness of our mortality yields the fruit of a better life. Inner preparation removes fear.
The spiritual traditions hold out the hope that this life is not the final state. In the revelation of St. John the Divine there is a vision of a new heaven and a new earth. A loud voice proclaims, "Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away." The constant round of birth-death-rebirth ends in life; yin and yang resolve to wuji; the many return to the One; the spirit returns to G*d who gave it. All shall be well.
Stay well and centered,
+Ab. Andy