Is Life about... learning to die?
I heard once that meditation is the art of learning to die. Is that what Life is really about? Gaining experiences and wisdom so that at the end of the journey we can fully embrace death without fear or regrets? It certainly feels that way every now and then.
So which is the right way to die? Since I have no degree or experience (that I can rationally recall) in the ways of dying, I can only talk about the ways I don’t wish to die (or leave this mortal frame to whatever it is that might come afterwards).
Of course, I can’t define whether my body will die in an accident and what type it will be. I can only look into which tools I can gather to face that moment with as much serenity as possible. I don’t want to die filled with resistance, struggling to cling on to my earthly attachments, clouding and fogging the possible perceptions that might open in that moment.
If what I’m proposing here makes any sense at all, then it becomes clear why Life offers so many difficult moments where everything just shakes and rattles like a massive earthquake was about to engulf everything you’ve ever known.
These moments could possibly be acting as triggers to make us see our inner fears and what takes away our peace. They would be the great teachers that are able to take meditation to the next level.
Because everything is easy when you’ve had a calm day and then get home to put on some relaxing music to close your eyes and breathe. It’s not so easy to meditate when someone you were in love with tells you they never want to see you again or when a playful dog wrecks up your hard worked garden in an instant.
Those moments when tension is triggered are to be considered pivotal points in our learning process. It is said that such things keep repeating themselves until you are able to not be triggered by them, until you are able to stay calm amidst such storms. Of course, if you dare to go further, the stakes might rise… hence the determination of many to stay in a comfort zone.
There are times I really want to be wrong about all this. Moments where I want to believe that there are some heavenly parents watching us from above with a tender smile on their face, just chilling and enjoying their children play their games on Earth. But when things get rough I strid through the darkness in search for meaning.
Why the pain? Just to distinguish from pleasure and good feelings? Or a lesson? A lesson for what? How many lessons must we learn? When do we graduate from this “school”? Is there anyone out there waiting to congratulate us and give us a warm hug?
What’s your take on this?
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