The Six Benefits of Being Mindful of Death
The six benefits of being mindful of death are:
- It encourages us to act meaningfully
- It makes all our positive actions most powerful and effective
- It is very important in the beginning
- It is very important during the process
- It is very important at the end of our study and practice of the Dharma
- At the time of our deaths, we will die both happily and pleasantly.
[1] Being mindful of death is very purposeful because it puts us in the frame of mind not to waste time, but to take the essence of a precious human life. If we knew that we were going to die tomorrow, we would not spend today doing something meaningless and trivial. Would a prisoner condemned to be hung tomorrow spend all his time today fussing over his hair and his clothing? Rather, we would take whatever measures we could to prevent our falling to a worse state of rebirth. Likewise, when we realize that for sure we will die and we can never tell when, we will use all our time in a meaningful manner by engaging in those constructive actions that will bring us either a higher rebirth or the definite goodness of liberation or enlightenment.
[2] If we are ever mindful that death can come at any moment, we will naturally become unattached to all fleeting, mundane phenomena. We will not act with the three poisonous attitudes of attachment, hostility or close-mindedness, as we will see the futility of compulsive obedience to these disturbing emotions and attitudes toward things we must leave behind. We will naturally become more generous with our wealth and possessions and give away what we can to benefit others. We will not cause trouble over trivial things that in the light of death will not really matter. With our poisonous attitudes curbed in this manner, our positive actions will become purer and more effective for producing results beneficial for our future lives.
[3] Becoming aware of death can be a very strong incentive to start us on the path of practicing the Dharma. Buddha Shakyamuni gained renunciation after he observed sickness, old age and death. Realizing how all worldly pleasures are fleeting and never remain static, the Prince of the Shakyas left his palace, his royal wife and child in a wholehearted commitment to finding a solution for all limited beings.
Milarepa was similarly motivated to study the Dharma after seeing the disastrous effects of the black magic he had used to destroy his uncle’s family and also after hearing about the death of his sorcery teacher’s patron. Realizing that death would come to him as well, Milarepa renounced black magic and set out to find a true spiritual mentor from whom he could learn the Buddha Dharma. Gampopa likewise began his search for the teachings when his beloved wife passed away. Thus, awareness of death can be very beneficial for the beginning of our practice.
[4] Likewise, it is helpful during the process of our training. Mindful that death can come at any time, we will persevere in our study and practice of the Dharma all the way to our achievement of enlightenment. We will not lose interest and give up in the middle, but will always be spurred on by remembering that our precious human lives can pass in an instant.
[5] The constant memory of our inevitable death helps keep our attention focused on our goal of either one of the better rebirth states, liberation or the realization of our fullest potential. Thus, it is beneficial for bringing our practice to its intended aim.
[6] Finally, if we have practiced the Dharma all our life, having constantly reminded ourselves of our imminent loss of this precious human rebirth, then when the time of our deaths actually arrives, we will be able to die happily and with dignity. With a calm and unfrightened frame of mind, we will die confident of attaining as a result of our constructive actions one of the better rebirth states with further respites and opportunities for spiritual progress. We will see our deaths as a simple matter of changing form and continuing our practice with a fresh, new body.
Ra Lotsawa has said:
I have no regrets even if I starve to death, because I have built 113 temples in Tibet and have built up a network of positive force.
Milarepa has likewise said in one of his Hundreds of Thousand of Songs:
I fled to the mountains because I feared death. Then, I realized that the abiding nature (gnas-lugs) of primordial mind (gnyug-sems) is voidness. Now, even should death come right this moment, I shall not be at a loss.
The way we can tell we have developed a correct realization of our imminent and inevitable death is when our attitude toward it is completely the opposite to that of ordinary, worldly people. In other words, rather than fearing death, which does not help at all, we would fear that if we were to die tomorrow with no confidence in our practice and were to fall uncontrollably to one of the worse rebirth states, that this would have been a terrible waste of a precious human life.
Some foolish people believe that the benefit derived from practicing the Dharma is that at the time of death it can stop us from dying and bring us immortality. That is not so. Even Buddha Shakyamuni passed away at the age of eighty-one to demonstrate the fact that everyone must die. However, as the Kadampa geshes have said:
If you practice the Dharma, the best (result) is that you will be ‘warmed up and ready to go’ (brod) at the time of your death, the next is that you will not be ill at ease (mtsher) and the least is that you will have no regrets.
Therefore, do not intentionally go to a worse state of rebirth for no purpose at all. We must use our precious human lives to accomplish the highest spiritual goals. Awareness of death, understood in the right way, can be useful for many constructive purposes.
Thus, Tsongkhapa has said:
Do not think there is anything more profound than building up constructive habits of the mind concerning death. Furthermore, do not think just to build up these habits for a short period of time. A correct awareness of death is needed throughout the practice for achieving a purified state of liberation or enlightenment.
The Actual Way to Become Mindful of Death
Milarepa has said: “I see everything around me as a teaching.” This becomes very easy for us to do as well, especially when trying to become more mindful of death and the nonstaticness of situations in our life. Gungthang Rinpoche has given many examples in his Stanzas of Advice on How to Build Up a Habit of Mind That Nothing Remains Static (Mi-rtag sgom-tshul-gyi bslab-bya tshigs-su bcad-pa), 12–16.
When a great fair or festival is held, people come together from many different villages, and when it is finished, they all part their separate ways. We do not know where each of them has gone, and they will never be together like that again. Our collection of relatives and friends are just like those people at a fair or like a swarm of flies in the early autumn. They will all disperse.
Things have alluring, beautiful names like “spring,” “summer” and so on, but such ephemeral phenomena can teach us that everything constantly changes. Even the colors of the foliage can do this. First there is green, then everything turns orange, and finally all becomes brown and barren. Streams, which in the summer were sparkling blue with ripples like beautiful dancers and enchanting bubbling sounds, freeze over in winter and underneath make a grumbling noise like somebody muttering. A similar process happens to us. When we are young, we go to many parties; we dance, sing and make merry. However, when we grow old, our habits and appearance change, and we just sit heavy in our chair making muttering sounds like the frozen stream.
When there is a beautiful garden in the summer, the bees come humming about to take the nectar of the flowers. Likewise, when we are young, we joyfully partake of whatever pleasures we can find. However, in autumn the delicate flower garden becomes brown like a desert, and in winter no one wishes to go there and see everything bare, with only the wind mournfully moaning. Our old age and death are exactly the same. Everyone deserts us when our youthful glory has withered and we are left sadly alone.
The most immediate teacher for becoming mindful of nonstaticness and death is our own physical form. We can no longer do what we did in our youth. We have become slower in all our ways, and our appearance has changed markedly. It can be very helpful to remove all our cosmetics and have an honest look at ourselves.
We can also keep in mind the image of two mice, one white and one black, taking turns at eating away the rope that binds a bundle of hay. The mice are day and night, the bundle of hay is all the circumstances of our life, and the rope around it is the duration of our lifespan constantly being nibbled away. Before this rope is completely torn to shreds, we must use the opportunity we have to take the essence of our precious human lives by building up as strong a positive karmic force for the future as we can.
Building Up as a Habit a Nine-Part Sequence of Thought Concerning Death
The following way to become mindful of death derives from the guideline instructions of Tsongkhapa himself, based on his personal practice, and was not found outlined in the Kadam tradition prior to his time. With a nine-part sequence (of thought) concerning death (’chi-ba dgu-phrugs), we consider three root facts (rtsa-ba gsum), each of which is true for three reasons (rgyu-mtshan gsum), and then make three decisions (thag-bcad-pa gsum), one for each fact [as cited by Namkapel (Hor-ston Nam-mkha’ dpal-bzang) in “Attitude Training Like the Rays of the Sun” (Blo-sbyong nyi-ma’i ’od-zer), 35–45].
[1] Concerning the root fact of the inevitability of death, we consider that this is so because:
- It is definite that the Lord of Death (’Chi-bdag, Skt. Mṛtyupati) will come, and no circumstance can turn him back.
- Our lifespan cannot be extended when it is time for us to die, and the remainder of our lifespan left to live is decreasing unceasingly.
- We will die even if we have not had the time while still alive to do the Dharma practices that would prevent our future downfall.
After considering each reason for death’s being inevitable, we build up the habit of mind to conclude decisively that we must practice the Dharma.
[2] The next root fact is the uncertainty of the time of death. This is true because:
- In general, there is no certainty of lifespan on a Rose-Apple Island (Southern Continent), especially during these degenerate times.
- There are more chances of dying and less chances of remaining alive.
- Our bodies are extremely fragile.
As a result of considering each of these points, we make the decision to practice the Dharma from this moment onwards.
[3] The third root fact is that except for the practice of Dharma, nothing else can help at the time of death. We will see this is true by considering that:
- Wealth is of no help.
- Friends and relatives are of no help.
- Not even our bodies are of any help.
Therefore, we decide that the only thing that makes sense in life is to practice the Dharma to prevent our future downfall.
[1] Death is inevitable. Once we have been born, there is nothing we can do but die. Death is the logical consequence of birth, and when our time is finished, there is nothing any of us can do to prevent ourselves from dying. Even the strength in a lion’s body is not enough to fend off the Lord of Death, and there is no place to go where we can hide from death.
Aryadeva has said in his Four Hundred Verse Treatise (I.5–6):
Although (you might feel that) since sickness can be cured and old age can be treated, you need have no fear when they (come); nevertheless, as there is no cure for your future demise, you should fear what is grossly obvious.
Death is common to everyone: (we’re) like cattle about to be slaughtered. As you have seen death come in fact to others, how can you not fear the Lord of Death?
As the Buddha has said in the Special Verses Grouped by Topic (Ched-du brjod-pa’i tshoms, Skt. Udānavarga, The Tibetan Dhammapada), I.5:
Of the many people you have seen this morning, by this afternoon some will never again be seen. Of the many people you see this afternoon, by the morning some will be seen no more.
Everyone who has ever been born has passed away. All the great kings and statesmen of the past are now merely names left in history. Even the most famous spiritual masters such as Padmasambhava, Atisha and Tsongkhapa have all left their bodies although their enlightening deeds and works are still available to the benefit of all. In a hundred years time, none of us alive today will still be present.
As the Buddha has said in the Special Verses Grouped by Topic, I.23:
Since even the Buddhas, pratyekabuddha arhats and shravaka arhats all leave their physical bodies (in death, although not compelled to), what need then to mention ordinary persons?
[2] It is certain that we shall die because each breath we take brings us closer to our deaths. We are like animals in a slaughterhouse lined up on a conveyor belt and waiting our turn to have our throat slit. Although it seems that in some places money can buy an extension of permission to stay, this is not possible with our lifespan.
As Shantideva has said in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior (II.39, VII.4–5):
Day and night, without a stop, this life is always getting shorter – no extension ever comes from the side; why should someone like me not die?
Sniffed out by the trapper, the disturbing emotions, and fallen into the trap of rebirth, how do you still not realize that you’ve landed in the mouth of the lord of death?
Don’t you even see that he’s slaughtering the members of your herd, each in turn? Yet despite being like a buffalo at the butcher, you even go to sleep!
[3] It does not matter what we are doing. Even if we have the purest intentions to follow spiritual pursuits, our deaths will catch us unawares before we have had time to prepare as we would like.
Shantideva has said in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior (II.33, VII.8):
Whether or not I’ve done (purification), since this Lord of Death, who can’t be trusted, never will wait, everyone, whether sick or not, (dies) all of a sudden. My life can’t be trusted.
With this still not done, this just having been started, this still left half-done, and the lord of death having come all of a sudden, and the thought arising, “Oh no, I’m destroyed!”
When we have considered these three reasons why our deaths are inevitable, we will firmly decide that we must do something while we can. We must practice the Dharma to avoid a future downfall. When we are already caught by the Lord of Death and are rudely forced to leave behind the warm beds of our bodies, which have been with us since birth, there will not be even a moment’s chance to look back at our loved ones or our material possessions [as cited by Gungthang Rinpoche in “Stanzas of Advice,” 22]. This is the reality of life, whether or not we believe in future rebirths. However, there is much benefit if we do accept the fact that there are future lives, because then we will make preparation for them.
We must leave behind all the material goods we have spent our whole life accumulating. The only thing we carry with us when we die is the burden of the responsibility for the constructive and destructive actions we have done. However, while we never tire of gathering wealth, we become easily exhausted building up positive karmic force. Some old folks spend a fortune building a house for their retirement. When they die, however, all they take with them is the negative karmic force built up in the process of arguing and swindling others in order to construct it, while their children remain to enjoy the house. Then, when they travel on the dangerous road of the bardo and are stopped by the military forces of the Lord of Death, they realize the uselessness of all the efforts they have made to accumulate mundane objects they had to leave behind [as cited by Gungthang Rinpoche in “Stanzas of Advice,” 24].
Therefore, while we have the opportunity and power to build up positive karmic force by practicing the Dharma, we must do so in order to secure our future. We are our own best friend and our own worst enemy. Whatever happens to us in the future depends on us. Someone who dies without having practiced the Dharma and a stray dog that drops dead on the street are the same in the bardo. It will have made no difference that that person was a human. In fact, the dog may have built up less negative karmic force during its life. Since our deaths are inevitable, we must decide wholeheartedly to prepare by practicing the Dharma.
As Gungthang Rinpoche has said in his Stanzas of Advice (25):
The Dharma is a guide for unknown paths. The Dharma is the provision for a long journey. The Dharma is a caravan leader for a passage difficult to travel. Therefore, from now on, link your three gateways (your body, speech and mind) to the Dharma.
[A similar quotation, but in reference to a spiritual mentor rather than the Dharma, is found in Gampopa’s “Jewel Ornament of Liberation” (Dam-chos yid-bzhin nor-bu thar-pa rin-po-che’i rgyan), 15.b3.]
[4] The time of our deaths is completely uncertain. The lifespan of humanoid beings on Islands of the Voice of Doom (sGra mi-snyan, Skt. Kuru) in the northern quarter of any world-system is fixed at 1,000 years. The humanoids on western Islands of Wealth from Cows (Ba-glang spyod, Skt. Godānīya) and eastern Islands of Giants (Lus-’phags-po, Skt. Videha) do not always live their full lifespan, but most of them do. As humans of southern Rose-Apple Islands (’dzam-bu gling, Skt. Jambudvīpa, Southern Continent), however, the length of our life can vary enormously.
Moreover, especially now at the time of the five degenerations, the lifespan of humans on this island-world with its ever-increasing pace of life is gradually and continually decreasing, until at the end of the present stage of this eon, people will die of old age when they are only ten years old.
[5] Furthermore, there is no certainty as to the time of our deaths because there are so many more dangerous situations in the world that can take our lives than there are conducive ones for sustaining them. If we consider the deteriorating world situation with its social unrest, pollution and so forth, this point will make a great deal of sense. There are internal circumstances that can cause our deaths, such as sickness and old age. Even mental pressures and emotional upheavals can drive us directly or indirectly to our deaths. External circumstances can be found in abundance, such as accidents, criminal violence, wars and natural catastrophes. Various aspects intended to enrich our life can also cause death. For instance, eating can lead to food poisoning and traveling can lead to accidents. Thus, no one can guarantee how long he will live, or even that he will be alive tomorrow, and each year conditions seem to become only worse.
If we feel we will not die because we are young and healthy, this is a foolish attitude. Age makes no difference to the Lord of Death. If very old parents with white hair and backs bent like a bow can shakingly take the bodies of their children to the cemetery, how can we say that death discriminates about age? [As cited by Gungthang Rinpoche in “Stanzas of Advice,” 17.] Regardless of how old we are, we must practice the Dharma to safeguard our future. We cannot afford to leave it until we have become white-haired and wrinkled.
[6] If our bodies were made of an indestructible diamond-strong substance, we might be more secure in living a long life. However, the human body is extremely fragile. The slightest circumstance can set it off balance and cause our deaths.
As Nagarjuna has said in A Letter to a Friend (57):
If even the earth, Mount Meru, and the oceans – these (physical) bodies – will burn up through the shining of seven suns, so that not even their ashes will remain, what need is there to mention something extremely frail like (the body of) a man?
Thinking in the above ways about how the time of our deaths is completely uncertain, we must make the resolute decision to practice the Dharma right now. How can we consider putting it off, if we are always mindful that at any moment we could be hit by a truck and our life would be finished?
Thus, Gungthang Rinpoche has said in his Stanzas of Advice (3, 5):
The thought to practice some pure Dharma, but only after you have filed away all your apparent tasks and projects for this year or month, is a ghost haunting (your mind), making you waste away your entire life in self-deception... Before the tomorrow dawns when you will practice the Dharma, the today when it is time to die may arrive all too soon. Now, do not fool yourself. If you are going to practice the Dharma, do so right now, from today on.
In short, when we think to procrastinate in our spiritual practice, we should remind ourselves of what Gungthang Rinpoche has said in his Advice from an Experienced Old Man (Nyams-myong rgan-po’i ’bel-gtam), 48:
Leftover chores (to be done before you practice the Dharma) are like an old man’s beard: the more you cut it, the more there is! As year after year passes without ever completing them, your human lifespan runs out, a total waste.
[7] Except for the Dharma, nothing else will be of any help or comfort at the time of our deaths. Consider wealth. We might spend our entire life building up a fortune, but on our deathbeds it will bring us nothing but a great deal of worry and suffering. Relatives and people we never even knew will come and pretend that they contributed to our wealth and success. They will quarrel with each other behind our back and while in our presence put on absurd acts of false concern to curry our favor in the hope that we will leave them something. And as soon as we die, like vultures they will strip our house bare of all our cherished possessions, then ruin them all or throw away in the garbage objects that held our most treasured memories.
Once, there was a man who spent a great deal of time grinding and polishing a stone slab into a perfect cube. When asked what he was going to do with it, he said, “Throw it away.” Thinking of this example, we should see how futile it is to spend all our time and efforts in pursuit of mundane objects or fame that we will just have to discard at the time of our deaths.
Our attachment to our wealth will disturb our minds greatly when we die. No matter how much enjoyment we derived from a favorite object, we cannot take it with us when we are snatched forcibly away by the Lord of Death. The only thing we will have gained from our wealth will be the negative karmic forces built up from our attachment or the dishonest means we might have used to make our fortune. These karmic forces will come with us whether we want them or not. If, on the other hand, we practice charity with the money and possessions we have, this Dharma practice will prevent our future downfall and will build up positive karmic force for being prosperous and happy in further lives. Since we will have to leave everything behind when we die, Milarepa has said:
It is better to give away what you can now while you are still alive and have the power.
[8] Relatives and friends are likewise of no help at the time of our deaths. Even if our father holds our head, our mother our feet, and the rest of our relatives sit on top of us, we will slip out. This is the reality of life and death.
As Shantideva has said in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior (II.40–41):
While lying in bed, even if I’m surrounded by all my relatives and friends, I alone shall experience the feelings of my life being severed.
When seized by the messengers of the Lord of Death, what help are relatives? What help are friends? Only my positive karmic force will provide me a safe direction then, but I’ve never relied on just that.
[9] Not even our bodies will be of help when we die. No matter how much effort we have made to build up our muscles or to make ourselves look young with cosmetics and coloring our hair, these will all seem grotesque and absurd in the face of death. When we can see plenty of examples of people our own age, or even younger and stronger, being struck down by the Lord of Death, what comfort can we take in having an attractive, athletic physique?
Therefore, we must make the firm decision that there is nothing more important in life than to take preventive measures for the future. As Pabongka has said:
Although there are many wonderful practices of high masters reciting prayers to you after you have died to help you recognize the nature of the bardo, it is far more effective to have practiced and gained this familiarity during your life, before you die.
If we never paid attention to what these masters told us while we were alive, what makes us think we will listen to them when we are dead?
Building Up the Habit of Imagining the Scene of Our Own Death
It is very useful to visualize the scene of our own death occurring right now. We should test ourselves periodically to see how well prepared we are and how we would take it. We picture in vivid detail our relatives and friends gathered around us crying and mourning. We think about how, if we die regretting not having taken during our life any preventive measures for the future, our mouth becomes dry and we cannot speak immediately before we breathe our last.
As Shantideva has described in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior (VII.9–10):
And seeing relatives, their faces with red eyes swollen from the force of grief and flowing with tears, having lost all hope, and also the faces of the messengers of Yama,
Tormented by the memory of negative acts, hearing the screams from the joyless realms, body befouled with excrement because of fear – having become delirious, what will you do?
We go on to picture our own funerals and our bodies either being cremated, completely enveloped in flames, or buried in the ground and then decomposing and being eaten by worms. We imagine our consciousness entering the bardo and then consider the type of rebirth we might take based on the karmic forces we have built up so far in our life. In this way, we impress upon ourselves the imminence and concreteness of the coming of our deaths.
Building up the habit of mind to be aware of death and that nothing or no one remains static is one of the greatest opponents for the disturbing attitude of attachment. When by habit we instinctively see that both the object and subject of our attachment are not static entities, but change all the time and will inevitably die, we will be able to outgrow our childish infatuations. A stable and steady state of mind free from attachments is one of the major foundations for further Dharma practice.
Therefore, Kyabje Trijang Rinpoche has given us the guideline instruction to think, upon leaving someone, that one of us might die before we ever meet again and, upon going to sleep, that we might expire before we awake. Such sobering thoughts will make our attachments and aversions seem trivial and petty.
In short, as it has been said in the Extensive Play Sutra (mDo rgya-cher rol-pa, Skt. Lalitavistara Sūtra), XIII.70:
(Situations in) the three planes of compulsive existence are never static; they are like autumn clouds. (Seeing) the birth and death of wandering beings is like watching a drama (in which the acts and actors are constantly changing). The passing of the lifespan of wandering beings is like a flash of lightening in the sky. Like water rushing down a mountain waterfall, (life) rushes quickly (to the Lord of Death).
Once, a person who lived in Geshe Potowa’s village came and asked him, “When my death is about to come, send me a message.” Someone died in the upper part of the village, and so Potowa sent him a letter announcing that. The man, however, took no note of it. Potowa did the same when someone died in the lower part and in the middle of the village, but still the man did nothing. Then one day, signs of this man’s own death came to him. Panic-stricken, he ran to Potowa and asked why he had not sent him a message before. “I did,” Potowa replied, “but you never understood.”
Potowa himself used to build up the habit of being mindful of death and nonstaticness by keeping count of all the deaths in Penpo where he lived. This is a useful guideline to follow. Our realization of the fact of death does not have to be based on scriptural authority. We can see it directly from “live examples of death.” From time to time, we should list all the people we have personally known who are no longer with us. And as for those who see friends, relatives and strangers dying all around them and do not apply this to themselves, what shall we call them – people with glass eyes? [As cited by Gungthang Rinpoche in “Stanzas of Advice,” 10.]
The point of all these practices to become mindful of death is not to become depressed. Nor is it to develop the type of short-lived, all-excited renunciation (sna-thung spu-sud-kyi nges-’byung, “hairy renunciation”) with which we give up all food, sleep, comfort and wealth in a fanatic practice of the Dharma. It is to develop a realistic attitude toward life and toward death. With a balance of spiritual and material concern, we must practice as best we can without wasting the respites and opportunities of our precious human lives. We must set our determination not to die pathetically like a rat in the gutter, but to die with some accomplishment, having taken sound steps toward a purified state of liberation or enlightenment. Therefore, instead of being either downcast or frantic at the thought of our deaths, we will adopt a constructive and mature attitude, especially when we consider the quality of our future lives that we are creating now by our actions.