GrowingOlderHopeWiser

I’ve been thinking lately about the fragility of our lives. Geshla, my Spiritual Guide, said our lives are like water bubbles. I see that truth today. Two days ago, my best friend’s brother died without warning or illness. He went outside to mow the lawn, came back inside, and fell. Just that quickly, our lives turned to grief and disbelief.

At my age, I hear more and more about someone who has died unexpectedly or committed suicide.

My own father died unexpectedly on Christmas Eve, falling down a flight of stairs at the subway station. One minute I am working, and my sister is at home fixing Christmas Eve dinner. Next, she calls me, telling me she is so scared. Dad died. Death does not discriminate. Young or old, healthy or sick, rich or poor. When it comes knocking, it is too late. There is no bargaining, no deals to be made, no price you could pay to stop it. Geshla also tells us that in our death lies our rebirth, and from our rebirth comes death. A never-ending cycle. We are destined to repeat it over and over again. The best we can hope for is a fortunate rebirth as a human. But that is very rare indeed. Rarer than you might think. We would like to believe we are born human again, maybe not so bad. That complacency is a big mistake; more likely, the winds of our karma blow in the direction of lower rebirth. A human rebirth happens from practicing moral discipline, which very few do. We lead our lives, knocking about, doing whatever we want. Understanding, maybe, but seldom practicing moral discipline. We grasp at anything and everything, living reactively. Giving no thought to the consequences. Then the curtain falls. There is no applause, and the audience walks out in silence, hungry for more. We enter the stage again, in a different costume, human, animal, hungry ghost, or hell being. For the few who practiced love and compassion and were genuinely good people, they might come back as a god or a demigod, or, if they were really good, have a fortunate rebirth in a pure land or heaven. But this is extremely rare. We all have flaws; it is our imperfect nature that prevents us from purifying our karma and setting ourselves free from this impure cycle of rebirth. We grasp at ourselves, we grasp at other phenomena as if they were really the way we perceive them to be. But it is all mistaken appearances, because nothing exists the way it appears to us. We judge, we categorize, friend, enemy, stranger. Like and dislike. As if things were just that, inherently evil, inherently good, inherently neutral. In the end, all we take with us is our karma, our actions. No judge is sitting, sending us to heaven or hell. We are the sole creators of our destiny. 

My friend’s brother was a good man, a church-going man, who lived as he believed—a life of kindness and thoughtfulness. We wish him a fortunate rebirth and, better yet, a heavenly one, understanding that even that is only temporary. Eventually, the good karma depletes, and we fall once again into our lower rebirths because we have lived infinite lifetimes and have done everything that could be done. Murder, stealing, lying, cheating; we have done it all. The only way out is to completely break the cycle of Samsaric rebirth and completely purify our negative karma. That is truly rare indeed.