Monday, June 16, 2008

Where death is a friend

Sometimes, when I am all alone, I think of death. My death. I feel sad, and sometimes, a little scared.

If I take life for granted, why does death not yet feel like a true friend? For surely, He is all that is waiting, at the door. There is no other way out of here.

Although I am a confirmed Ramesh (read Advaita) fan, I admit I have gone out shopping for death. In other words, I did not buy Ramesh's take on the end of life being end of book, not just chapter.

Among the stuff I read, what appealed to me most were the near death experiences, NDE, where the patients come back unexpectedly from nearly dying, to tell us how beautiful it is in heaven, and how they just did not want to come back. How they met Jesus, how they flew with the angels with a body so light, how they met their old dog (ok, this one I have added, but why not? ), how they were told that they have some work left to do, so they had to come back, etc, etc.

So a couple of years ago, when I was transcribing a book for Ramesh, when I was alone with him, (it wont look good for an old timer to ask questions during satsang, right?), I asked him about death.

In fact, I specifically asked about the near death numbers.

'Do you think all of them are mind woven?' I asked him.

'The point to reflect upon is,' he said, 'that most of them, did not want to come back!. Which can only mean one thing. That the process of dying might be painful, but the moment of death has to be a moment of utmost freedom.'

There, I got it straight from the horse's mouth.

His eyes twinkled in his old face and he said, again, ' Old age, ill health, the process of dying might be a drag, but the moment of death, Grasshopper, has to be a moment of utmost freedom!'

4 comments:

Banno said...

What I fear, and makes me sad, is not my own death, but the death of loved ones. Perhaps the desire to feel that the book has not ended, is a desire to hang on to those who have left us.

Grasshopper said...

It is the identification with form that separates everything, everyone.
Loving someone,is like loving one's mirror image. If you disregard the outer covering, you and your mother are one.
I know this might sound very theoretical, and difficult to digest, but once you accept the 'Advaita',
(not two) concept even intellectually, it starts to trickle down to the heart.

Irene said...

Death will always remain a fascinating and scary area for me. The thought of death does not frighten, but I would like to live out my life first. I am scared of watching other's die though. I don't know if I can feel that the person dying and me are actually one...

Grasshopper said...

A month before my grandmother died, she asked me to give her my tulsi mala. The day before she passed away, I reached my hometown and went to the hospital to see her. She was unconscious, in the ICU, tubes going in her mouth, covered by a dark green sheet. The doctor came in and asked me if I could remove the tulsi mala,
if not, they would have to cut it.
At that moment I sensed her presence, talking through him, acknowledging me, saying hello.
It was a very beautiful, very special communication I have had in my life. And, it has stayed with me.
Something happens in the air when a person is dying. If one is open to it, one can feel the 'vibration of utmost freedom', that Ramesh talks about.