Impermanent Nature
Witnessing the End of a Life and My Reflections on Death
What is our life but this dance of transient forms?
This week I had the unique experience of witnessing a funeral at the monastery. I had the privilege of being present for all three days of the ceremony and the cremation. This gave me an incredible opportunity to learn about an important part of Buddhism and for deep reflection on my personal beliefs, fears, and perceptions surrounding death.
I have separated this blog post into two sections, the first focusing on the details of the events and ceremony and the second on my personal reflection and insights.
Part One: The Death, Pujas, and Cremation Ceremony
On Tuesday, a woman who lived just above the monastery passed away. She was in her 70’s and had high blood pressure and her friends said that in the past week she had come down with a bad cold. Every morning she goes to her neighbor to pick up milk from their cow. When she didn’t show up on Tuesday morning they went to her house, called her, and knocked on her door but there was no response. The house, however, was locked from the inside and if anyone broke down the door or forced their way in the police would have had to get involved so they had to wait until the evening for her younger brother to come from Salleri and unlock it.
That evening I stood outside the dining room by the stupa watching as a congregation of people gathered outside her house. Just last week I had a long discussion with Khenpo about death rituals in Buddhism and at the monastery. Because of this, I knew a bit about the long process that would follow. I knew they would be moving the body from the house to the monastery and I was curious to learn more about death in Buddhist cultures and the process that will unfold in the next few days. The nun saw me standing there and waved me to come over. Once the house was unlocked they brought her body outside and to wash her and prepare to bring her to the monastery. About 15 people were gathered there including the old monks, the nun, Khenpo, and Lopen. The men washed her body and the women stood holding incense. When they lifted her from the tarp where they had washed her to the white silk they would wrap her in, I saw her face and knew I recognized her from the medical clinic last year and the Buddha Jayanti celebration on Friday. She was one of the people who came and walked around the stupa each morning holding prayer beads. They wrapped the body in white cloth and then a tarp and tied it together with khata1 scarves. The procession to the monastery was led by the old monk Baga Puri who held a khata in his arms and rang a bell. She was carried by the men who had washed her and followed by the women holding incense, Khenpo, Lopen, and the nun. They brought her into the monastery and placed her in a corner under a rectangular tent of colored silk.
Three days after she passed away was the final day of puja2 and the cremation ceremony. Over 50 people came to the monastery for the ceremony. Normally there would be more but because of the bad weather it is difficult for people to get here. During the morning puja I brought the book Khenpo had given me, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, and read the section on death and the ritual processes surrounding it. Reading this while sitting in the monastery while those very rituals were being performed was an incredibly profound experience and I felt immense gratitude for this special opportunity.
An Insightful Conversation
Today I met Khenpo's sister, Chiring. Her husband is the brother of the woman who died but as he could not be here, she has taken the role of organizing much of the funeral. When I got the chance to talk with her I told her about the book I am reading and how I feel so grateful to be witnessing such an important event here. She shared with me how fortunate I am and all Westerners who study Buddhism are because she said that I will understand many concepts that she cannot. She told me that while she was raised Buddhist, she doesn't know many of the complex principles or philosophy. She only attended school for five years as when she was 10 she had to leave to help her parents work. Because of this, she said she will never be able to read or understand the teachings of great masters. While the people here know the practices, rituals, and are raised on the belief, she told me Westerners have the opportunity to learn so much more about the teachings and complexities of the philosophy. Getting to talk with her was extremely interesting and offered a new perspective on my journey studying Buddhism. I can see clearly the areas of difficulty for both Western and Eastern practitioners. For people raised Buddhist, concepts such as karma rebirth easily make sense to them. They do not have to wrestle with previous views or understandings. They have been raised with these concepts as the truth so accepting and understanding them is not a struggle in the way it can be to a Westerner. But as Chiring told me, their understanding is often limited. Their practices are sometimes based more in ritual and culture than in a deep knowledge of the dharma3. She told me how even on days like today, so focused on prayer and ritual, she doesn’t understand the meaning of all that is being done. She knows the rituals and the processes that will be observed but the philosophy, origin, and reasoning is often lost. Where I have the access and ability to pick up a book like the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying and read the words of Sogyal Rinpoche and other great masters, because of her background and education, she cannot. Searching for deeper meaning is also not a custom. Because they have been raised on these beliefs there is no incentive to question them or to dig deeper at each little thing. As all of this is new to me, I find myself looking for answers at every opportunity. Challenging concepts don’t click immediately for me because I have been raised in such a different culture so to understand them I need to read texts and learn about its deepest and most fundamental meaning. With both approaches there are gaps in our understanding and practice. To truly know we must dedicate our lives entirely to studying the way and even then there will always be more to learn. At times this can feel intimidating as it is not a religion based on blind faith or omnipotent figures. The basis of the principals is rooted in questioning, studying, and personal practice. It places the outcome of your happiness entirely on you which means you have to do the work to realize it, you cannot rely on some greater being to fix things if you just pray or believe hard enough. This is one of the main things I love about Buddhism and its philosophy but I know it will take years to fully grasp many of these important concepts. This conversation helped me reflect on my journey and the privilege I have in my studies. Now more than ever, information is so readily available to me, I just need to put in the work to actually learn it. Right now I have the incredible opportunity to combine the learning I am doing through reading and studying with real experiences that help root the theory into practice and broaden my understanding. It is one thing to read about the beliefs surrounding death, but being present for the ceremonies in this environment while in the pursuit of deeper understanding is a truly transformational occasion and one that I reflect on with great gratitude.
Returning to Fire
The final step of the ritual was the cremation, which took place at the top of the mountain. Five people carried silk flags of different colors attached to bamboo sticks at the front of the procession. Her body was wrapped in silks and rested on a tarp between two long poles and was carried by six men. Along the path from the monastery to the cremation site, fires of pine branches burned and their fragrant smoke carried away by the breeze. At the top of the ridge stood a red pavilion and covered structure with benches and an altar. Under the pavilion was a tall stack of logs and branches held together by four metal posts. They placed her body on a concrete table beside the pavilion to prepare her. The tarp was removed and she was taken out of the plastic that had covered her body. During the entire cremation process I never actually saw her body as most of the preparation was done behind a tarp and when they lowered it she was wrapped in silk. There was a time when they unwrapped her face for the lama to perform a ritual and for her family to see her but I gave the family their space and kept my distance. When she was placed on top of the wood pile she was covered in pine branches so that even the outline of her body was hidden.
They lit the fire and as it began to burn they placed large slabs of butter on the logs. People placed plates of grains, grasses, herbs, salt, and silk into the fire and the monks sat inside the shelter by the altar chanting and ringing bells, blowing the trumpets, and beating drums.
Throughout the whole day there were few tears. In Buddhist traditions, intense displays of grief and crying are discouraged as it is believed that will prevent the conscience of the dead person from fully letting go and moving on. While standing and watching the flames under my umbrella they brought cups of tea and gave out oranges, bananas, and khapse4 to everyone in attendance. Everyone stayed for about an hour and just before leaving everyone gathered outside by the pavilion and the monks came out and blew the horns. I stood next to Chiring, holding the umbrella over her head. She had been telling me about the things they were putting in the fire but as the flames grew higher and the monks came out with their trumpets her eyes began to shine. As they blew the trumpets and the bells rang out, she bowed her head and said to me, “now she is no longer with us”. Every part of her, her conscience and now her physical body, had passed from this realm and will continue on in the cycle of samsara5. Everyone left to return to the monastery and Chiring told me that three men will stay and tend the fire for three to four more hours. When the cremation is finished, the remains and ashes will be ground and mixed into a clay to be molded into miniature stupas called tsatsas. These tsatsas will be placed on the mountain and in special caves as relics. For the next seven days the family will continue to bring offerings for her in the monastery and the monk Baga Puri will read prayers from the Tibetan Book of the Dead (Bardo Thodol) three times a day. The full period of transition will last for 49 days.
Part Two: Reflection
Death is always something I have been afraid of. Not my own, but the deaths of the people I love. This has always been my deepest fear and is further deepened by the fact that I know it will inevitably come. This experience has given me the unique opportunity for deep reflection, learning, and transformation. Being here I have gained a new perspective on death and had a deeply impactful experience. While it is still something I fear, having the experience of sitting with death in this way has given me the chance to ponder that feeling and approach it in new ways.
The more we try to run away from that fear, the more monstrous it becomes.
The suffering surrounding death comes from our attachment – we love the person so it gives us great pain when they are no longer with us. The four noble truths in Buddhism state that life is suffering, our suffering is caused by our attachment, attachment can be overcome, and the path to overcome suffering is the dharma. We can see the four noble truths in death. Great practitioners and masters of the dharma do not feel fear or suffering with death as they have overcome their attachment to their own life and to the lives of those they love. They understand deeply that with birth there is death and with death there is rebirth – the cycle of samsara. I am not a master of the dharma and I know that the deaths of those I love will cause me great suffering. To overcome that attachment and the love I have for them is not something I believe I can do, but this does not mean that I will not try to reflect on and transform that attachment with greater understanding and in a way that may cause me less pain.
The three core principles of the Buddhist teachings discuss the nature of impermanence, interdependence, and emptiness. One of the primary aims of Buddhism is to free ourselves from attachment to eliminate suffering.It is a complicated thing to balance our feelings of attachment with the concept of impermanence. I am aware that this is a contradiction in my practice – a dichotomy of my understanding and my emotions and experience. I know, as we all know, that life consists of birth and death and I have done a lot of meditation on understanding and accepting that fact. There is no being that can escape death. Our attachment to the impermanent causes suffering and our life and the lives of the ones we love are impermanent. Being here I have taken the time to deeply contemplate death. It is the one thing we all know to be true and that we all share yet we often spend so little time thinking about it. When thoughts of death arise they often come from a place of dread and anxiety rather than acceptance and true contemplation. We hide from it until it is upon us during which we scramble for more time, for more moments to truly see and understand this truth so that we might accept it.
The realization of impermanence is paradoxically the only thing we can hold onto, perhaps our only lasting possession.
At the core of Buddhist philosophy is the belief that there is never truly birth or death, there is only manifestation, transformation, and continuation or remanifestation (reincarnation). It is even a scientific principle – matter cannot be created nor destroyed, it can only be transformed. It is the same for us. We did not just appear and nor will we disappear into nothing when we die. We exist as a manifestation of all things. I am because you are. This is the interconnected and interdependent nature of all beings.
Stripped of a physical body, mind stands naked revealed startlingly for what it has always been: the architect of our reality.
The section of The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying that I read today focused on the importance of the state of mind and clarity at the time of death. I am not a person who is close to death but reading these passages on the preparation for death was very impactful to me. Each day we live we get closer to death and we can always start preparing. I don’t mean in a nihilistic way but when we view the essential preparation for death to be clarity in our practice, inner peace, and distancing from attachment, we can begin to incorporate these practices into our daily lives in a way that will ease our suffering in this life. The best way we can prepare for death is by deeply and authentically living with an awareness of the impermanence of all things.
To practice death is to practice freedom.
In recent months I have been around more death than ever before in my life. Working in the hospital in Cape Town I experienced patients dying as well as many people who showed up already dead. In these instances we had to examine the bodies to ensure they were truly dead so the doctor could sign their death certificate. These moments of death were brushed by quite quickly and while I did my best to try and sit with the experiences after the fact, that was simply not a custom or a part of life in the hospital. As I was the only intern who had that experience, I had no one to relate to. Here, this death has brought three days of undivided attention from the whole monastery and over 50 people have come to attend the prayers and be a part of the experience. This is my first time being around death and the people who are mourning. The rituals performed today are not a gathering for grief nor a celebration of life. It is an observation of transition. The dead person is very much present in the whole occasion. The ceremonies and rituals are not about them, they are for them. The prayers are not uttered to some distant god but they are instructions and guidance to the conscious of the dead person through the bardo realms and in the transition. In Tibetan Buddhism, bardo refers to an intermediate, transitional state or "gap" between death and rebirth and it is an extremely important and vulnerable state. Through incantations and rituals the monks help to guide the conscience to a higher rebirth.
This existence of ours is as transient as autumn clouds.
To watch the birth and death of beings is like looking at the movements of a dance.
A lifetime is like a flash of lighting in the sky,
Rushing by, like a torrent down a steep mountain.
All quotes are from the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche.
1 Khata
A traditional Tibetan ceremonial scarf used across Himalayan cultures made from silk and is most commonly white.
2 Puja
A ritual ceremony involving prayers, chanting, and offerings, most often performed by monks in a monastery.
3 Dharma
The teachings of the Buddha, the cosmic law, and the ultimate truth of reality
4 Khapse
A deep fried Tibetan biscuit, often in shapes such as knots or braids.
5 Samsara
The fundamental, continuous cycle of birth, death, and rebirth.
I love you—your heart, your mind, and your spirit. Every eternal cell of your being. As always, I learn from and and inspired by your articulation of your experiences and insights. So proud of how you are showing up in the world, and for your own growth.
Sienna,
What a gift for us to get to read about your experiences. You are learning so much, and we get to learn from you. Thank you so much for being willing to share so much with everyone.