the Buddha said
Impermanence surrounds us,
Existence doesn't stay,
The old ones of tomorrow
Are you enough today.
So he sat in mediatation,
He didn't dream or doze
And he found liberation
Which neither comes nor goes.
-The Charioteer Song, Nathaniel Needle
That chorus is part of a song which is part of an album given to me by a good friend from college, Dan. After reflecting on Grandpa's funeral for half a week, that is pretty much my thought. I did a lot of raging about the emphasis on war and total liturgy FAIL that was the funeral. Now I feel better. Thank goodness for the Methodists who surround me as the emotions crash down like boulders in an Indiana Jones movie.
But back to my original thought... this Buddhist song expresses what it takes most Christian composers an entire Requiem to say. I can't verify a heaven, and I certainly don't believe in hell. I don't know if Grandpa is anywhere except that small plot of land in Ashland cemetery. But I can verify that Grandpa no longer lives.
It was time. When I visited Grandpa two weeks before his passing, he couldn't finish more than a few syllables at a time, and fell asleep in the middle of his sentences. He hadn't been able to recognize us for a long time, but this time he forgot we were even there. Everything does end naturally. It's part of the cycle of life. And it was time for Grandpa's life to end. The author of Ecclesiastes says that there is a time for everything, and he/she is right. The first of the Four Noble Truths is that everybody suffers, but the third truth is that there's a way out. I don't doubt that Grandpa inadvertantly followed the Eightfold path to peace which is they way out (truth #4), and his final end to suffering came quickly: a heart attack followed by about 4 hours of labored breathing. No pain. Just slipping away quietly.
It's silly to resist death or the dying of loved ones. Impermanence is the only permanent thing in life: as they say, the only certain things in life are death and taxes. Things WILL change... sorry Methodists, you can't pretend anymore. Considering that most of life is arrogant bullshit, chasing money and possessions, violence, and physical suffering, it's quite liberating to know it's not forever. I think American culture needs a healthy dose of the 6th paramita, Prajna. It translates to "wisdom," but the wisdom that is meant is the wisdom that comes from humility. News flash, everybody: we don't know everything! When we realize this we aren't attached to the transient things of this world, or even to pursuit of our own knowledge. We recognize that the universe is a mystery.
Existence, similarly, is a mystery. We will never be able to comprehend more than snippets of what it means to be alive. Grandpa's death must have made made me more Buddhist, because I'm sure now that attachment to existence itself simply causes more suffering. Sure, life itself is valuable... but the anxiety produced by focusing on maintaining unchaged existence just isn't worth it, and it won't work. The best thing to do is just accept change and the cycle of life and death. Then we focus on what is the meaning of life and the point of existence:
Compassion.
That's what Grandpa did every day.
Existence doesn't stay,
The old ones of tomorrow
Are you enough today.
So he sat in mediatation,
He didn't dream or doze
And he found liberation
Which neither comes nor goes.
-The Charioteer Song, Nathaniel Needle
That chorus is part of a song which is part of an album given to me by a good friend from college, Dan. After reflecting on Grandpa's funeral for half a week, that is pretty much my thought. I did a lot of raging about the emphasis on war and total liturgy FAIL that was the funeral. Now I feel better. Thank goodness for the Methodists who surround me as the emotions crash down like boulders in an Indiana Jones movie.
But back to my original thought... this Buddhist song expresses what it takes most Christian composers an entire Requiem to say. I can't verify a heaven, and I certainly don't believe in hell. I don't know if Grandpa is anywhere except that small plot of land in Ashland cemetery. But I can verify that Grandpa no longer lives.
It was time. When I visited Grandpa two weeks before his passing, he couldn't finish more than a few syllables at a time, and fell asleep in the middle of his sentences. He hadn't been able to recognize us for a long time, but this time he forgot we were even there. Everything does end naturally. It's part of the cycle of life. And it was time for Grandpa's life to end. The author of Ecclesiastes says that there is a time for everything, and he/she is right. The first of the Four Noble Truths is that everybody suffers, but the third truth is that there's a way out. I don't doubt that Grandpa inadvertantly followed the Eightfold path to peace which is they way out (truth #4), and his final end to suffering came quickly: a heart attack followed by about 4 hours of labored breathing. No pain. Just slipping away quietly.
It's silly to resist death or the dying of loved ones. Impermanence is the only permanent thing in life: as they say, the only certain things in life are death and taxes. Things WILL change... sorry Methodists, you can't pretend anymore. Considering that most of life is arrogant bullshit, chasing money and possessions, violence, and physical suffering, it's quite liberating to know it's not forever. I think American culture needs a healthy dose of the 6th paramita, Prajna. It translates to "wisdom," but the wisdom that is meant is the wisdom that comes from humility. News flash, everybody: we don't know everything! When we realize this we aren't attached to the transient things of this world, or even to pursuit of our own knowledge. We recognize that the universe is a mystery.
Existence, similarly, is a mystery. We will never be able to comprehend more than snippets of what it means to be alive. Grandpa's death must have made made me more Buddhist, because I'm sure now that attachment to existence itself simply causes more suffering. Sure, life itself is valuable... but the anxiety produced by focusing on maintaining unchaged existence just isn't worth it, and it won't work. The best thing to do is just accept change and the cycle of life and death. Then we focus on what is the meaning of life and the point of existence:
Compassion.
That's what Grandpa did every day.