Death (and Undeath)
Despite modern doctors’ best efforts it seems this condition is here to stay. We’re all infected. It’s a 100% fatal condition. Yet dying remains a taboo subject. Sure, we jibber-jab about heaven and hell and other faith-based scenarios. But we generally don’t like talking, or even thinking, about death here and now in the world we inhabit. The result of this denial is increased suffering when confronted with this reality.
No Delusions
Mindfulness? No thanks, our bellies are already full of minds.
Our cultural treatment of corpses smacks of unapologetic denial. We dress them in fancy clothes, do their makeup, and use toxic chemicals to preserve a life-like appearance. We adorn them in flowers and spend excessive amounts on coffins with extra features, as if they are some kind of luxury vehicle. Here’s the thing. Looking alive doesn’t make them less dead. And they’re not driving funeral Cadillacs to heaven. They’re going in the ground. The components that make up the body are breaking down and being recycled back into the universe. The sooner we can accept this fact, the sooner we can stop torturing ourselves with delusions of immortality. Nothing is permanent, and few things are as temporary and fragile as we are.
The Zombie Within
Buddhist monks have been meditating on corpses for centuries. They’d sit and watch the dead bloat and putrefy in the sun. Were they morbid weirdos or what? I don’t know. [Side note: TSOL fans might laugh at the amount of writing spent discouraging monks from looking at corpses of the opposite sex.] Maybe. But that’s beside the point. Watching those bodies rot, stink, and decompose must have changed the way those monks thought about their own bodies. Maybe the experience was jarring enough to instill an emotional separation between their sense of body and their composite sense of self. If you understand that YOU are not your body, then you’re on your way to understanding anatta.
Anatta Creepin’… Corpse Peepin’
Rejected TSOL lyrics: “I’m better able to understand the nature of existence if she smells of formaldehyde!”
Like a lot of other things that were appropriate for early Buddhist monastics, corpse-sitting just doesn’t have a place in contemporary western culture. Or does it? Submitted for your approval: Exhibit A, 1968’s “Night of the Living Dead” (On Youtube or Hulu). Corpses abound. Death ensues. Many people hate zombie movies because they put you in touch with the 500 lb. gorilla in the room named “No-Matter-How-Pretty-You-Look-Now-You’re-Going-to-End-Up-as-a-Slimy-Bloated-Bag-of-Worm-Food.” Odd name for a gorilla, right? Facing our fears is always an uncomfortable prospect, but growth and comfort rarely come as a pair. NotLD is relatively light on gore and shock value (it was extremely low-budget, even by 1968 standards) but heavy on mood. And that’s what you want – to immerse yourself in the heaviness of impending doom.
Embrace Death. Appreciate Life.
That thing you call “myself” is just a grab bag of spare parts loaned out by the universe. And the universe reserves the right to recall that loan at any moment. An increasing understanding of these facts make THIS moment – right now – reveal that much more specialness. And hey, if the abstract idea of impending death doesn’t help you stay mindful, few activities ground you in the present moment like being chased by the undead.
Happy Halloween
AnattaPunk 