Living in the Light of Death (Larry Rosenberg with David Guy)

OVERVIEW

It’s probably inevitable that in a culture of autonomy, independence, productivity, and the adoration of youth we would deny the facts of illness and aging. It’s certainly inevitable that in a culture of accumulation, acquisition, and more, more, more we would ever accept limits, including the limit of finitude. But meditation can help reacquaint us with reality – that the body is insubstantial and ephemeral, that everything is impermanent… especially you. Larry Rosenberg, a Buddhist teacher, explores traditional Buddhist reflections on mortality in Living in the Light of Death.

I am subject to aging. Aging is unavoidable.

Contemplate aging intentionally. Imagine what it would be like to be frail, in pain, and dependent on others. See the body for what it is, beautiful and terrible. We don’t need to reject the body, but we shouldn’t cling to it either, certainly not as a stable and unchanging vessel.

I am subject to illness. Illness is unavoidable.

Illness is another occasion for practice, an “immediate reminder of the unpredictability of everything.” It shows you, in the moment, how things can break down (and rapidly). Everything falls apart in the end, and we can prepare for that end by noticing how things are falling apart right now, how things are falling apart always.

I am subject to death. Death is unavoidable.

To paraphrase Rosenberg’s multi-part meditation on death, reflect on the following: Death is inevitable. Everyone must die. The amount of life you have left to live is always decreasing. Death will come, whether you are prepared for it or not. Death is uncertain. People die at all ages. There are many causes to death; you cannot cure everything, and you cannot cure mortality. The human body is fragile, we are all terribly vulnerable.

I will separate from all that is dear to me.

Wealth, possessions, and stuff can’t help you on your deathbed – everything you love you will have to give up. Your loved ones may be able to comfort you, but you will have to die alone. You will have to separate from all that you love in this world… your possessions, your friends, your family, your children, and yourself. You may know this in your head, but you most know it in your heart.

I am the heir to my actions.

One premise of Buddhism is that we suffer because we cling to things that are impermanent. The way to end suffering is to end clinging. We say this car is mine, these people are mine, this body is mine, this self is mine… I am an “I” and I possess these things (so to imagine losing them brings anxiety). But we can use meditation to observe that the self is a construct and then gradually dissolve this sense of self, step by step. We can die in installments, die to these things now – die to our attachments and die to the idea that we are immortal and permanent.

WHAT NOW? (actions for mortal atheists)

Buddhists generally reflect on these truths in formal meditation, but anyone can contemplate them at any time. You don’t have to be Buddhist or believe in the divinity of Buddha to appreciate the importance of reflecting on mortality, how it might help you live more fully and with fewer regrets. It might help add dimension to these reflections if you couple them with thought experiments. Imagine being given a terminal illness, telling your family, losing your independence and mobility… eventually, lying on your deathbed, breathing in and out knowing that one of these exhales will be your last. You can even practice your final exhale. Sit quietly and breathe normally. On each exhale, tell yourself: “this is my last breath.” Observe all the sensations and thoughts that accompany this exercise.

IN SUM:

Is this book entirely secular? No.

If I had to describe the book in one sentence? A review of the Buddhist meditations on death.

Who should read this book? People interested in Buddhism (or meditation) and death.