“Many do not realise that all must one day die. In those who know this fact all strife is stilled.”

“Many do not realise that all must one day die.”

Many traditional artists included a human skull in their paintings. In Georges De La Tour’s picture, The Pentitent Magdalen, the woman is actually nursing a skull on her lap with her hands resting on it. The skull proclaims the message ‘Memento Mori’, ‘Remember you must die.’ However, it perhaps takes the death of a parent, a serious illness or an accident to alert us to the reality of our own eventual demise. We may then start to wonder what the circumstances of our death might be. This may lead to worries about our health. Perhaps we resolve to take out a gym membership or include more fruit and vegetables in our diet. Although such steps may be useful, mulling over death and making pictures merely disconnects us from truly knowing it. 

“In those who know this fact all strife is stilled.” 

The Zen training offers the opportunity not to think about death but to become familiar with it from moment to moment. We are led not to the belief in the Buddha’s teaching of no-I, but to a deep awareness of it. 

When faced with a challenging situation, we are encouraged not to resist it but to delve inwards and meet the fear churning and lurching in the pit of our stomachs. 

The following African myth points to such an encounter. One day, a hunter went out into the jungle to look for a lion. He marched so long that he became very tired. He decided to rest for a while. Whilst he slept, a lion passed by looking for water. He saw the hunter asleep under a tree. He picked him up in his massive jaws. The hunter woke immediately. Petrified, he pretended to be asleep. The lion decided to quench his thirst before eating him. He pushed the hunter into a bush of thorns. The thorns pierced the hunter’s skin. Tears flowed from his closed eyes. Before setting off to find water, the lion noticed the tears streaming down the hunter’s face. He realized that he wasn’t asleep and was aware of his predicament. Filled with compassion, he licked the tears away. The lion then walked to a spring to slake his thirst. Meanwhile, the hunter had managed to escape from the thorn bush. He ran swiftly to a nearby village. He pleaded with the villagers to hide him. They covered him with animal skins. Nevertheless, the lion following his scent tracked him down. He called to the villagers to give him up. He said “The hunter is mine. I have licked away his tears. Now I must devour him.” Reluctantly, the villagers obeyed. With great trepidation the hunter threw off the animal skins and faced the lion. 

Immediately the lion pounced and devoured him. Much to the villagers’ amazement, the lion addressed them. He said “Now you must kill me.” After slaying the lion, the villagers danced and sang. They knew that the hunter would be reborn with the brave heart of the lion. 

In the Zen training, as the hunter surrendered to the lion, we surrender into fear’s fierce flames. We reverently ask them to ‘burn me away’. The energy is then transformed into Choiceless Awareness symbolised as the brave heart of the lion in the myth. In the spaciousness of this Open Heart there is at-one-ment with everything as it comes to be and ceases to be. This is the death of ‘me’ described in the Bahiya Sutta:

“In the seeing, there is only what is seen.

In hearing there is only what is heard.

In sensing there is only what is sensed…

Then Bahiya ‘you’ will not exist…

 This, just this is the end of suffering.”

All through the day we ‘die’ by wholeheartedly giving ourselves. When my husband began radiotherapy my head was full of advice given by well-meaning friends. The NHS had also sent us copious information to digest. It was soon discovered that all that was required was a wholehearted giving myself into whatever was occurring. All the support my husband required was the quiet presence of ‘Choiceless Awareness’. Driving to the hospital every week day for a month became the new timetable. There was a wholehearted sitting in the car. There was a wholehearted walking into the hospital. There was a wholehearted greeting the smiling staff. At the end of the treatments, patients were invited to ring a bell. All the staff and patients in the waiting room applauded, connecting us all in joy. Fatigue being the most common side effect during and after treatments, Choiceless Awareness revealed when my husband needed encouragement to rest. 

Choiceless Awareness, as we die into each moment, shows the way. As Basho wrote:

“My house burned last night

Tonight I have a clear view of the moon.”