The Necessity of Being Mindful of Death and the Shortcomings of Not Doing So

To prepare for the future, we must know there is a future. If we know today that we are going on a picnic tomorrow, we will buy and prepare the food now so that we will not waste time in the morning.

Because we are confident that we will live to grow old, we worry when younger about a pension, social security and so on. Likewise, when we begin to take notice and become concerned about our future lives, we will naturally wish to take some preventive measures to avoid any problems that could make them miserable.

We should not think that when we die, this is the end of our stream of continuity like the extinguishing of a candle. Although our gross body and gross mind will come to an end, our subtlest mind and the energy-winds it rides on will continue. 

If we are unhappy about our present gross body and mind, we can be rid of them at death. However, their subtlest levels will continue with all the karmic forces we have built up upon them from our past actions. As these karmic forces will ripen in further gross bodies and states of mind in future lives, we must take rebirth so long as we have these compelling imprints. There is a wide choice of rebirths available, and the worse ones are the easiest to obtain. We need no reservation. Therefore, it is a poor attitude to live just for this life and ignore the future. We must expand the scope of our minds and realistically look ahead.

Just as most people do not like to tell their age, everyone dislikes thinking about death. However, this is merely a temporary denial of an unavoidable fact of life, and with such a naive, fearful attitude, we will be completely terrified and unprepared when death actually comes. It is much better now to face the inevitable realistically. By taking preventive measures, we will not be depressed and upset at the time of our deaths, but can go with composure, dignity and confidence.

If we do not accept the fact that some day we shall die, and if we do not build up this awareness as a familiar habit of our minds, we are like a dog tied to a tree. Just as a leashed animal thinks it is free but is actually restricted in all its activities, likewise we will be severely limited in our spiritual progress if we do not become mindful of our impending death.

It is all very nice to think we will have a long life, but this is like an adult luring a child by saying that an injection will not really hurt. We constantly fool ourselves into thinking that life is all jolly, and we waste time on trivial matters as if we were going to live forever. This, however, is just a temporary escape from facing the fact that some day we will die. Therefore, by building up the habit of being aware of death, we will become conscientious (bag-yod, Skt. apramāda) to take the full essence of life. We will naturally not sleep as much and will use our precious and limited time to take sound measures for achieving our spiritual aims. We will have a certain inner discipline to act sensibly in life and will never need anyone else to force us to practice. Thus, the purpose of being ever-mindful of our impending death is not to depress us, but to make us see how valuable each moment is of our precious human lives and not to waste time.

The six shortcomings of not being mindful of death are: 

1. We will not be mindful of the teachings
2. Even if we are mindful of them, we will not put them into practice
3. Even if we do practice, we will not do so purely
4. We will lose our determination to practice earnestly at all times
5. By our destructive actions we will disable ourselves from gaining liberation, a release from our troubles 
6. At the time of our deaths, we will have to die with regrets. 

[1] We Will Not Be Mindful of the Teachings 

If we are not mindful of death at all times, we will think only of this life and not about taking any preventive measures for the future. We constantly fool ourselves into thinking that situations in this life are set and will last forever. However, nothing in life ever remains the same or static. On a subtle level, things change every moment (mi-rtag-pa phra-mo, subtle impermanence): old situations come to an end, and new ones arise. We are different from when we awoke this morning, but few are aware of this. In fact, most of us are so close-minded to accepting this change that we think we are perpetually young. We refuse even to acknowledge the grosser level of impermanence that will be evidenced with our deaths. We spend our life obsessed with accumulating money, fame, comforts and material goods, as if we will be able to enjoy them forever. However, when death comes, we will be rudely shocked. Having taken no interest and thus never been mindful of the Dharma, we will be caught unprepared when our ephemeral world shatters.

[2] Even If We Are Mindful of Them, We Will Not Put Them into Practice

Even if we have learned about the measures to take for the future, our lack of constant death-awareness will make us procrastinate in actually adopting them. Thinking we will not die tomorrow, we feel we can wait at least until then to put our learning into practice, and so we idle away today. We will never make any spiritual progress with such a two-faced attitude. As Geshe Potowa (dGe-bshes Po-to-ba Rin-chen-gsal) has said:

You cannot sew with a two-pronged needle.

By being mindful of our deaths, we will give up our obsession with the fleeting things of this life and turn our minds to the Dharma. Although we should not have our main concern be with affairs of this life, this does not mean we become a totally unworldly creature incapable of living a day-to-day life. The point is knowing where to place our energies and priorities.

[3] Even If We Do Practice, We Will Not Do So Purely

Even if we do practice the Dharma, still if we are not always mindful of death, we will do so in an impure manner. Thinking only of benefits for this life, we might practice charity with the aim of receiving help, praise, friendship, fame or something material in return. We might sit solemnly in a cave with the wish that others will consider us a great yogi or hang an ostentatious sign outside our retreat room: “Do not disturb! Great meditator in retreat!” However, if we are ever-mindful of our impending death, we will be detached from this life and not hold such immature attitudes concerning our spiritual practice.

Nonattachment (chags-med, Skt. alobha) to this life means to give up clinging to its fleeting pleasures. Such an attitude is gained by being mindful that no situation in life is static, that we shall certainly die some day and that it will be very difficult to gain another precious human life. 

Togme Zangpo (rGyal-sras Thogs-med bzang-po) has said in Thirty-seven Bodhisattva Practices (rGyal-sras lad-len so-bdun-ma), 4: 

A bodhisattva’s practice is to give up being concerned totally with this lifetime, in which friends and relations a long time together must part their own ways; wealth and possessions gathered with effort must be left behind; and our consciousness, the guest, must depart from our bodies, its guest house.

The purity of our spiritual practice depends on the level of our nonattachment, and this is a state of mind, not something to show off to others. Once, one of Dromtonpa’s (’Brom-ston rGyal-ba’i ’byung-gnas) disciples, wishing to please his spiritual mentor, spent all day ceremoniously circumambulating a stupa. Dromtonpa said, “All your circumambulation is fine, but it is better to practice the Dharma.” The disciple thought that a display of doing hundreds of thousands of prostrations would please his master. However, when he reported the number he had done, Dromtonpa said, “Your prostrations are excellent, but wouldn’t it be better to practice the Dharma?” The disciple now thought to recite aloud the Buddha’s scriptural texts, but when he finished, Dromtonpa told him the same as before. Completely bewildered, he asked Dromtonpa what he meant. Dromtonpa replied, “Dharma practice is to change your attitude toward life and give up attachment to everything mundane.”

Similarly, another disciple once complained to Dromtonpa that all Atisha ever spoke about was giving up concern for this life and developing bodhichitta. “When will Atisha ever talk about high spiritual practices?” Dromtonpa answered, “You have not been listening well. These are the high spiritual practices!”

To develop nonattachment to the fleeting pleasures of this life, we must give up in brief our attachment to food, clothing and reputation. If we commit ourselves wholeheartedly to spiritual pursuits and outgrow our preoccupation with this perishable life, we need not worry about obtaining something to eat. It has never been heard that a sincere practitioner has starved to death. This is because Buddha Shakyamuni has dedicated an amount of positive karmic force equivalent to that required to be born as a chakravartin emperor (’khor-los sgyur-ba’i rgyal-po, Skt. rājā-cakravartī, wheel-wielding emperor) 60,000 times so that in future eras of famine, when pearls will be bartered for grain, his followers will not die of starvation. 

Originally, Geshe Ben Gungyal (dGe-bshes ’Ban-gung-rgyal) had a small farm of forty acres, which was not very successful. He worked his land by day, and at night to supplement his supplies he went out to the nearby mountain pass to plunder caravans. Still, he did not obtain enough to eat.

As the years passed, Ben Gungyal became extremely notorious. One night on the pass, he met a nomad who asked, “Have you seen any bandits about? I hear there is this merciless brigand Ben Gungyal in this region and if he attacks you, everything is lost. Have you seen him?” To this, the unrecognized bandit roared, “I am Ben Gungyal!” at which the nomad became so terrified, he slipped from the path, fell down the mountain and was dashed on the rocks below. Seeing the awesome effect that even hearing his name had on others, Ben Gungyal repented his former ways and devoted the rest of his life to intense Dharma practice.

Later, when he became well-known as a realized practitioner, he received so many offerings in his cave retreat that he was prompted to remark, “Previously, when I was tied up with mundane concerns, although I had forty acres of land and robbed at night, my mouth could not find enough food to eat. Now, however, that I have given up such concerns, the food that I have cannot find enough of a mouth in me to all be eaten.”

It is more difficult to become impervious to concern over our reputation. Many meditators live on an extremely poor diet and wear only rags. They live in mountain caves and must lean against hard rocks instead of soft furniture. Some even block the entrance to their cave with mud and never go out in the sunlight. However, it is quite possible for someone like that not to have given up wondering whether the townsfolk below are praising them as a famous meditator. We must work hard to rid ourselves of such self-preoccupation, which can taint even our most intense spiritual efforts.

There are eight transitory things in life (’jig-rten-pa’i chos-brgyad, eight worldly dharmas) our concern over which we must outgrow and rid ourselves of in order to be able to practice purely without attachment for this life. 

Nagarjuna has said in A Letter to a Friend (bShes-spring, Skt. Suhṛllekha), 29:

O Realizer of the Transitory World. Don’t have as objects of your mind the eight transitory things of the world: namely, material gain and no gain, happiness and unhappiness, things nice to hear and not nice to hear, or praise and scorn. Be indifferent (toward them).

The eight childish attitudes we must outgrow with respect to these transitory things in life are: 

• Being pleased and delighted with the gain (rnyed) of such things as gifts and money
• Being displeased, depressed or disappointed with the loss (ma-rnyed-pa) of such things
• Being pleased when all is going well and we are healthy and happy (bde-ba)
• Being displeased or depressed when things are not going well and we are sick, suffering, have problems or are unhappy (mi-bde-ba)
• Being pleased and excited when hearing (snyan) pleasant sounds, good news, communication from our loved ones and so on
• Being displeased and annoyed when not hearing (mi-snyan) such things
• Being pleased when praised (bstod-pa) or complimented
• Being displeased or disheartened when abused (smad-pa) or degraded.

If our minds are preoccupied with such immature concern over these mundane glories or disfavors, we will be emotionally unstable and subject to either over-excitement or depression depending on how others treat us. 

As Sakya Pandita (Sa-skya Pandita Kun-dga’ rgyal-mtshan) has said in A Precious Treasury of Elegant Sayings (Legs-bshad rin-po-che’i gter), IV.20:

Holy persons are like precious gems: they never change or regress under any circumstance. Weaker persons, however, are like the balances of a scale: merely the slightest (occasion) can make them go up or down.

Thoughts of death, however, are extremely beneficial for sobering us from such fluctuation so that we will practice purely.

If we are attached to praise and fame, we act ridiculously. Once a great master was delivering a discourse. In the audience sat a monk who was bald and had a beard and a large goiter. The spiritual teacher mentioned these three physical features and called them ornaments for anyone with robes. The monk sat up tall and straight so everyone could see him. Then the master continued, “If, however, all three are complete in one individual, it is inauspicious.” Immediately, the monk shrank down in his seat.

When we are caught up with childish concern for what is mundane, we put on such airs. Usually, we lie in bed until eight, but when we stay at our patron’s house, we get up at three in the morning and sit solemnly to impress him. Although we may not be so gross as this, we are extremely skillful in hiding our negative traits when we wish to gain something from others. For instance, we might harbor a grudge inside us against some person and yet wear a false smile broadly on our face in order to curry his favor. However, someone like Milarepa never acted hypocritically like this. If he was displeased with someone and it would be helpful to correct that person, he did so without any concern for whether or not this person would like him.

The dzogchen master Dza Patrul (rDza dPal-sprul O-rgyan ’jigs-med dbang-po) was from a nomad background and, without putting on airs, wrote in their dialect very bluntly and directly. He once said:

Nowadays whatever truth you say seems like harsh words. However, I always speak the truth, even if it seems shocking.

He also has said:

These days the majority of people live in deception and cultivate only friends who will flatter them. As for me, I detach myself from community life with the immature and live in solitude.

If our concerns are petty and deal only with this life, our actions cannot be considered Dharma practice. Likewise, to perform empty rituals with no feeling for the Dharma and without a proper motivating aim can never be effective in bringing about any spiritual goal. As Dza Patrul has said:

So many people go on pilgrimage as if they were tourists, make offerings of food in honoring ceremonies with only craving to eat them as soon as the ceremony is finished and give presents with the sole hope of receiving something better in return. How can these be Dharma practices?

It is only when we broaden our outlook and think primarily of future lives and beyond that we qualify to be called a spiritual person. Once, Geshe Potowa asked Dromtonpa what the dividing line is between what is and is not Dharma practice. Dromtonpa replied:

If something acts as an opponent to your disturbing emotions and attitudes, it is a Dharma practice, but if it does not, it is not a Dharma practice. If it is completely at variance with (the childish values of) worldly people, it is a Dharma practice, but if it conforms, then it is not.

Once, when Langri Tangpa (dGe-bshes Glang-ri thang-pa), another Kadampa geshe, was delivering a discourse to thousands of disciples, a sickly child was born nearby. An astrologer told the mother that to save the infant’s life she must take it to a high spiritual master and claim it to be his child. Obediently, the mother brought the baby to Langri Tangpa in the middle of his teachings and declared before everyone that it was his. He happily accepted and said, “For all my lives you have been my child.” Half the disciples lost faith and immediately walked out. They thought it was his child from this life. The rest of the audience stayed.

At the end of the discourse, the mother presented the master with offerings and apologized by explaining the situation. Langri Tangpa simply gave the child back. Throughout the entire scene, he maintained complete equanimity, and for the half of the disciples who stayed, their faith remained unaffected. If anything, it grew even stronger. However, we could not bear such an occurrence had it happened to us. We would make a big scene by trying to prove ourselves innocent. To Langri Tangpa, it made no difference. He knew he had done nothing wrong. Thus, if we maintain purity within, we do not have to impress others that we are holy by external displays of false piety or by never associating with worldly, ordinary people.

We must be unattached to gaining popularity or being well-liked. As Ra Lotsawa (Rva Lo-tsa-ba rDo-rje grags) has said:

I have done what pleases my spiritual mentors, and I am confident that I will be guided by them in all future lives. If no one else likes me, so what! That cannot harm me.

The Kadampa geshes used to say it is not good if everyone dislikes us, but then again it is also not so good if others like us too much: we are never left alone. We seek popularity and recognition, but if we get this, we never have time to do anything positive or constructive. We should be as unattached to fame as Tsongkhapa. When offered the position of Imperial Tutor to the Emperor of China, he politely excused himself. We would jump at the chance, but Tsongkhapa preferred a simple life. He realized how living in an elegant court would only hinder his spiritual practice and ability to help others.

Praise can cause us much mental wandering. Even after the person who has extolled our virtues has left, and we are trying to build up beneficial habits in a meditation session, our minds will wander, “Am I really like that? Oh, how wonderful I am.” Therefore, if someone praises us, we must recall there are plenty of others who despise us. If someone derides us, we should remember there are many others who sing our praises.

Shantideva also says in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior (sPyod-’jug, Skt. Bodhisattvacaryāvatāra), VIII.21, 

If there are others who belittle me, what pleasure is there when I’m being praised? And if there are others who praise me, what displeasure is there when I’m being belittled?

It is impossible to please everyone. Even Buddha Shakyamuni himself could not do that. His cousin Devadatta always disparaged him. Therefore, we should never be pleased when praised, nor depressed when blamed.

There is a danger that when rejoicing in our constructive actions, we will become attached and think how great we are. We should note that in the seven-limb prayer, rejoicing is always preceded by openly admitting to our wrongs. This has been specifically designed in this order to steer us along a middle path of being neither depressed nor proud about our qualities.

In short, if we are ever-mindful of death, we will not be swayed by concern over the eight transitory things in life, which could make our Dharma practice impure. We must be stable in our direction. Ever-intent on our long-term goals, we must not let ourselves be sidetracked by worrying about praise, fame, and so on. 

As Lingrepa (gLing Ras-pa Pad-ma rdo-rje) has said:

In the cremation grounds of my uncontrollably recurring superstitious thought, the risen corpses of the eight transitory things in life roam about. While I am caught in such a fearsome cremation ground, O spiritual teachers, if you are to give me a taste of equanimity, give it to me now! 

Lingrepa was a disciple of Gampopa’s disciple Pagmodrupa (Phag-mo gru-pa rDo-rje rgyal-po). The Drugpa Kagyu tradition is traced from Lingrepa and his disciple Tsangpa Gyare (gTsang-pa rgya-ras Ye-shes rdo-rje).

Equanimity to the eight transitory things in life can be gained through adopting the ten gem-like innermost attitudes from the Kadam tradition (bka’-gdams phugs-nor bcu). These are the four trusting acceptances (gtad-pa bzhi), the three diamond-strong convictions (rdo-rje gsum) and the mature attitudes toward being expelled, finding and attaining (bud-rnyed-thob gsum). 

The four trusting acceptances are: 

1. As our innermost outlook on life, being willing to accept with total trust the Dharma
2. As our innermost attitude toward the Dharma, being willing to accept with total trust even becoming a beggar
3. As our innermost attitude toward becoming a beggar, being willing to accept with total trust even having to die
4. As our innermost attitude toward death, being willing to accept with total trust even having to die friendless and alone in an empty cave. 

The three diamond-strong convictions are to: 

1. Go ahead with our Dharma practice without consideration for what others think about our doing so
2. Keep the constant company of deep awareness of our commitments
3. Carry on continuously without getting caught up in useless concerns. 

The mature attitudes toward being expelled, finding and attaining are: 

1. Being willing to be expelled from the ranks of so-called “normal” people
2. Being willing to find ourselves regarded among the ranks of dogs
3. Being completely involved in attaining the divine rank of a Buddha.

(I) The more mindful we become of our precious human lives and the imminence of our deaths, the more our outlook will turn to the Dharma. From our innermost heart, we will adopt the Dharma practices in our thought, speech and physical behavior since we realize nothing else makes sense in life. 

(II) We should never hesitate to break our old, bad habits and devote our life to practicing the Dharma. It is much more important to work for long-term beneficial goals than, out of attachment, striving only to be comfortable during this one short life. Even if it comes to begging, we should never compromise our dedication to achieving a purified state of liberation or enlightenment.

Shantideva has said in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior, VI.57–59: 

Someone who wakes up after having experienced a hundred years of happiness in a dream and another who wakes up after having experienced just a moment of happiness:

Once they’ve awakened, that happiness doesn’t return, after all, to either of the two. (Similarly,) it comes down to exactly the same for someone who's lived for long and someone who’s lived for a short while.

Though I may have obtained great material gain and even have enjoyed many pleasures for long, I shall still go forth empty-handed and naked, like having been robbed by a thief.

(III) If it comes to having nothing, we should not mind even dying as a result of our poverty. Both a rich person and a beggar must die some day, and it is far better to die having practiced the Dharma to ensure a happy future than to expire surrounded by ill-gained wealth. It takes great courage to sacrifice, if necessary, our life and pleasures for some spiritual goal. However, if we look at how many beings live a meaningless life and die a meaningless death and at how often we ourselves have done the same in previous lives, we will change our innermost attitudes even concerning what we would die for.

(IV) We should never worry about having no one to help us at the time of our deaths. When sick or elderly people do not wish to be alone, especially when dying, this is a sign of their attachment to the mundane pleasures of this life and their fear of death. However, no matter how many people are around us, no one can stop us from dying. They can only distract us from dying peacefully.

Therefore, Shantideva has said in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior, VIII.34–36: 

So, let me retire to the forest until four pallbearers haul that body out from there, while all my worldly (relations) grieve.

Let this body stay there in isolation, alone, making neither intimate friends nor conflicts. If I’m already counted as if I were dead, there’ll be no mourners when I actually die.

As there’ll be no attendants (hovering) nearby, mourning and causing distress, there’ll be no one to distract this (hermit) from continuing mindfulness of Buddha and more.

If we are concerned about how our bodies will be disposed of, do not worry. As a Kadampa Geshe once said rather bluntly: “No one will want to keep your smelly old corpse in his house!” Whether we die in a rich bed or alone in a cave, whether we are buried in a tomb of gold or in a pauper’s grave, it comes to the same. Where we die makes no difference, and once we are dead, we are dead. Therefore, it is ridiculous to be attached to having a long funeral procession and an expensive, elaborate grave and monument. Such concerns will only distract us from taking the essence of life. We prepare for death by practicing the Dharma for our future rebirths, not by working to accumulate a large burial fund.

(V) We should have the diamond-strong conviction to go ahead with our spiritual practices without consideration for what others think about our doing so. This does not mean we go out of our way to offend or hurt others’ feelings by our spiritual pursuits. Rather, it means we should be willing to bear others’ making fun of us if our practice entails going against the norms of society. If we do not lead our own life according to our conviction in what is right, but live only for what others will think of us, this is actually a sign of great self-attachment. We must not care about our reputation or what others think or say. What makes their judgment so correct?

Sakya Pandita has said in A Precious Treasury of Elegant Sayings (III.19, 22):

Some people who are completely untrained in any good skills put down those who are very well-trained. If you do not have a goiter on some tiny islands, you are considered deficient and missing a limb!... Some people who gain food and money through a dishonest living deride learned persons who happen to be poor. A group of old monkeys captured a human and all made fun that he had no tail.

(VI) We should always maintain the diamond-strong conviction to keep constant deep awareness of our commitments. No matter what happens or where we are, we must never become lax in upholding our vows concerning ethical behavior. Nor should we feel we can skip the daily practices to which we have wholeheartedly committed ourselves. We must always remain steadfast, regardless of conditions.

(VII) We must carry on continuously without getting caught up with mundane concerns. If we have decided to dedicate our life to the Dharma and in our pursuit must leave behind our home and loved ones, we must never hesitate. We need the diamond-strong conviction that in the long run this will be of most benefit. Even if someone tries to discourage us by offering us money to set up a business, we must be able to say no and go on with our practice of the Dharma. 

As Togme Zangpo has said in Thirty-seven Bodhisattva Practices (2): 

A bodhisattva’s practice is to leave our homelands, where attachment to the side of friends tosses us like water; anger toward the side of enemies burns us like fire; and naivety so that we forget what’s to be adopted and abandoned cloaks us in darkness.

There is nothing intrinsically wrong in having friends and wealth. This is not the point being made here. We must have the courage to give these things up if they are just causing us to become more and more negative and are drawing us away from the spiritual practices intended to bring us to a purified state of liberation or enlightenment. However, when our relations with friends and relatives afford us the opportunity to act positively toward them and to build up the habits of love and compassion, rather than disturbing attachments, then such relations can be very beneficial. The same is true if we use our wealth to help others, rather than hoarding it for our selfish concerns. We must keep our perspective and not get caught up in immature attitudes toward friends or wealth. 

(VIII) We must be willing to be expelled from the ranks of so-called “normal” people because we do not share their childish values. Once, there was a king, and someone predicted to him that a rain would come and whoever drank of its waters would go mad. The king covered his water containers, and when the ill-fated rain fell, all his subjects became crazy although he stayed the same. Everyone began to mock the king as being abnormal. Unable to bear this, he drank the water and became crazy like everyone else.

We must not act cowardly like this, but be willing to be rejected by others because of our adherence to our spiritual practices. Milarepa has said:

From the point of view of the world, Milarepa is mad, but from my point of view, the whole world is insane!

(IX) Even if we find ourselves considered in the ranks of dogs or vermin, we must be willing to bear this. 

As Sakya Pandita has said in A Precious Treasury of Elegant Sayings (III.17):

In a city of fools, someone with a dancing monkey is valued more highly than someone who is learned. The one with the monkey is presented with food and money, while the learned person leaves empty-handed.

Similarly, according to The Enlightening Biography of Jetsun Milarepa (rNal-’byor-gyi dbang-phyug dam-pa rje-btsun Mi-la ras-pa’i rnam-thar thar-pa-dang thams-cad mkhyen-pa’i lam-ston) by Tsangnyon Heruka (gTsang-smyon He-ru-ka), Milarepa has said (98.a4–5):

During the degenerate age of bad times, vulgar hypocrites are honored like Buddha-figures, and spiritual shysters are in more demand than jewels or gold, while sincere, humble practitioners are tossed aside like pebbles from a road. Such unaware, limited beings – what a shame! 

Once Milarepa, skinny and almost naked, was resting on the side of a road when three well-dressed sisters from an aristocratic family passed by. They shook their heads in haughty disapproval and disgust at this disheveled person in the dust and prayed out loud that they never fall to such a pathetic condition. Milarepa said to them, “Do not worry. For thousands of lives, you will never be born in such a state as me. You feel pity for me, but I, Milarepa, take pity on you.”

(X) Thus, regardless of what others think or say about us, we should wholeheartedly involve ourselves in attaining the divine rank of a Buddha. Milarepa practiced according to the guidelines of these ten gem-like innermost attitudes in order to overcome his concern for the eight transitory things in life. At one point while trying to meditate in his cave retreat, he thought he had finally overcome his childish concerns for mundane things. When he saw, however, that he still preferred his cave to be arranged in a certain way so as to minimize the wind and the cold, he realized that he still had a great deal of work left to do to be rid of these distracting concerns in order to have a pure practice of the Dharma.

[4] We Will Lose Our Determination to Practice Earnestly at All Times

The next shortcoming of not being mindful of death is that we will not practice the Dharma earnestly all the time, but only some of it. Once, when Milarepa was in his cave retreat, his sister visited and offered to bring some woolen cloth to make warm robes. His response was, “Never mind the robes. Because I am always thinking of death, I have no time to spare from my practice for making such things. I may die at any moment!” 

Similarly, Geshe Karagpa (dGe-bshes Kha-rag sgom-chung) always ripped his robes on a bramble bush growing in front of the door of his hut. However, he never took the time to cut it down since he felt that death could come at any instant and what would be the use.

Sanggye Wonton (Sangs-rgyas dbon-ston Rin-po-che), a master in the Kadam tradition of the quintessence teachings, has said:

In short, if you have not developed on your mental continuum (the constant awareness of) death and nonstaticness, then (your practice of) even The Guhyasamaja Tantra will not be profound. However, as soon as (an awareness of your imminent) death dawns on your mental continuum, then even (your recitation of) the three lines of taking safe direction will be very deep. 

Milarepa has likewise said:

In brief, without being mindful of death, whatever Dharma practice you do will be merely superficial.

[5] By Our Destructive Actions We Will Disable Ourselves from Gaining Liberation, a Release from Our Troubles

In this life, when we forget about the fact that we all must die, we become attached to friends, we hate enemies, cause trouble, file suits against others and so forth. If, however, we remain mindful that death must come to everyone, we will realize there is never any reason to fight, hurt or be possessively attached to anyone, for both of us will eventually die.

Aryadeva has said in his Four Hundred Verse Treatise (bZhi-brgya-pa, Skt. Catuḥśataka), I.19, 21: 

These worldly beings, as if brimming over with suffering, wander about (from one birth to the next). So, what is the use of filling yourself up with (further) suffering (by currying friendship) with (some other) person who will (only) bring you suffering (when you have to part)?

As the past has no beginning and the future has no end, why do you look (only at the short time of) being together and not at that of when being apart, even though it’s for so much longer?

Shantideva has similarly said in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior (II.34–37):

Leaving all behind, I’ll depart. But not having realized this, I’ve committed all sorts of negative acts for the sake of my friends and my foes.

My foes will vanish; my friends also will vanish; I too shall vanish; likewise, all will vanish.

Just like the experiences in a dream, anything I enjoy will become an object of memory; everything that’s passed, I won’t see (again).

Even within this brief lifetime itself, many friends and foes have passed. But whatever unbearable (fruits) there are from the negative acts I’ve committed for their sake (still) lie ahead.

This negative karmic force built up from not having been mindful of death will bring us enormous problems and suffering in the future as it causes us to fall to the worse rebirth states. This will disable us for a very long time from ever gaining liberation.

[6] At the Time of Our Deaths, We Will Have to Die with Regrets

Similarly, if we have not kept mindful of death and consequently have not practiced the Dharma purely and earnestly all our life, then when death comes, we will be unprepared and will die in a terrible state of regret over all our previous negative and foolish actions. We will have no control over ourselves at the moment of our demise, for without any safe direction to take we will panic with fear.

As Shantideva has said in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior (II.45cd–46ab):

Staring with terrified, bulging eyes I’ll search the four quarters for anyone (who can show me) safe direction out.

(And then,) seeing no one in the four quarters who can give safe direction, I’ll become filled with total despair from that.

Thus, Aryadeva has said in his Four Hundred Verse Treatise (I.1–3):

As the master over the three planes of perishable existence, the Lord of Death, by self-nature, is without a creator, what could be more improper than to fall asleep while the real situation is that he will definitely come.

Having been born for the sake of coming to die and, under the power of other (things), having the situation of going (ever closer to your end), it would appear as though you were going to die, not as though you were going to live.

You may see as short your time already spent, and the future as otherwise, but (whether) you think of these as equal or unequal, it would seem as though you should cry out in fear at the obvious.