We begin to die from the moment we are born, for birth is the cause of death. The nature of decay is inherent in youth, the nature of sickness is inherent in health, in the midst of life we are verily in death.
— BuddhaCarlos Castaneda’s remarkable series of books was two decades old when I first read them. What I think of now as I write this—flying in a packed airplane at an altitude of some 35,000 feet—and what has remained with me all these years, is the often repeated advice given by Don Jaun, the old Yaqui sorcerer, to a young Castaneda: remember your death.
Curiously, the Buddha offered similar advice.
Death was on my mind as I said goodbye this morning to my parents, not knowing when or if I would see them again. My father is 85 and my mother soon will be. At 63, I’m not young either and our time together grows increasingly short. I am immensely fortunate both of my parents are still alive and hugging them I didn’t want to let go.
As the airport shuttle headed south on the freeway and Bellingham slipped away I felt in my heart all the love I have for my mother and father, keenly aware of the immense love they have for me. It’s astonishing. When you really let yourself feel in your heart all the love you can possibly hold. It overflows. You can’t actually hold it. And you realize there are no limitations or boundaries to this thing called love.
Love is a miracle. Everything else fades into insignificance in its presence. All the irritation and annoyance, the resentments and grudges. None of it matters.
It seems a strange contradiction, but it’s easier to remember love—to stay with it, so to speak—when you remember death. When you recall that you and those you love will one day die, and that the time of death is uncertain, and that it could be today, love is what you feel. Love and appreciation.
Love doesn’t leave room for anything else. You even start to appreciate all the things that normally annoy you. Like sitting in a cramped bus hurtling down a freeway clogged with cars. Because you’re seeing with eyes of love you notice the people in the cars below, the people sharing the bus, and what you feel is curiosity and tenderness and a desire for their wellbeing. And then you notice the beauty of the crows and weeds by the side of the road. The entire world looks new and different. It’s as if you’ve never really seen it before.
* * *
These past four years I’ve spent a lot of time in airports traveling between the east and west coasts, alternating months with my partner in Connecticut and with family in Washington State. Now that we are living in Mexico the direction of travel has changed but my time spent in airports has not. And not for the first time what I noticed at SeaTac Airport is how unhappy people seem to be. All ill at ease and distracted.
Many a handsome face that would have been beautiful with a smile instead wore a scowl. Young and old alike. The lines of the older faces were set so that I could see unhappiness etched there and in them I could read the future of the younger faces. Travel is stressful and airports can be exceedingly unpleasant, but they are also settings that provide curious and interesting opportunities to connect with strangers and in so doing to affirm our common humanity.
But very few people seem so inclined. People seem not to like each other or even themselves very much. It struck me that Americans are an unhappy people. Why are citizens of the wealthiest, most powerful country in the world unhappy? I asked my partner and his answer was this: “Because our society doesn’t work for people, it works for capital.” Which is to say that our society has been structured around profit, putting money before people.
Deep down, don’t most of us know that things have gone terribly wrong? The unhappiness shows on the faces around us, in people’s postures, and in our interactions with each other. Our society is based on a fantasy: of limitless growth, opportunity, and possibility—on limitless profit. It enriches a few while degrading the quality of life for everyone else. It’s a national pathology. Accepting life as it is, with all of its limitations, is a healthier path to take.
Death is of course the ultimate limiting factor. Acknowledging finitude in general—the impermanent and finite nature of phenomena—enables you to see and appreciate the precious, ephemeral miracle of life and the person sitting next to you on an airplane. It invites you to love your loved ones as they deserve to be loved and to extend that love to strangers.
Perhaps the advice of an old Yaqui Indian—and the Buddha—is worth considering.
I think in terms of the Bhagavad Gita and some of the Upanishads as well as the teaching of Buddha. Relinquish your desire. The bitterness in people's lives is, I think, brought on by unfulfilled wants.
Cara, you spin a good tale, much better than I.
I will leave you with one last thought that I think I popped on you once before:
I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
Cara, I hope this goes through.
What a wonderful and refreshing and uplifting article to read. About Real Love and Real Life and not about instant this and instant that and not a brief stimulation of the senses, at least as I see it.
And your reference to Carlos Castaneda and the Buddha remind me of a quote by the great George Bernard Shaw, who said, "It's a shame youth is wasted on the young."
Yes, I agree with your observation of people, whether at the airport, or in stores, or wherever, especially in the United States, by looking at their faces and of course, general attitude.
You are fortunate to have loving parents and they are fortunate to have you as their daughter as there are more and more dysfunctional families, with siblings not talking to each other for years and even up to death, over money issues when one or both parents die and the assets of money and property are "divided." Contrary to the old adage, "blood is thicker than water" is not true. I can attest to that and so do many people I know or have met over my 70 something years.
I definitely agree with your partner that society is more focused on capital, and we have been trained by the "Establishment" that the capitalist system is the best model in the world, but is it?
Capitalism is insatiable, and the money-oriented person never has enough. And I'm referring to the mega-rich people. Profit before people is their mantra. Love, as you described it so poetically, is on the back burner on a slow simmer, if any.
May You and Yours Have an Abundance of Good Health and Much Genuine Happiness, and it was a very uplifting article for Doom & Gloom Frank to read.
Be of Good Cheer,
Frank Lambert