Infinite Impermanence

The second of the 'Four Thoughts that turn the Mind to Practice' is contemplation on impermanence and death. We are encouraged to contemplate the precious human rebirth that we have succeeded in gaining and the fact that one day it will be lost through death. Does this inspire practise or despondency? I have noticed a tendency in the West toward despondency when death is mentioned. This is a shame, because it would be preferable to have a sense of hopelessness. The hopelessness we are aiming for is fearless hopelessness. Trungpa Rinpoche describes this as the ‘hopelessness that is beyond fear’ - the realisation that we do not need to fear death, because it happens in every moment, continually, endlessly. The endless stream of deaths and rebirths – within life – affords us great opportunities. We can begin anew in each moment. Every moment has the potential to be a moment of realisation.Reincarnation, metempsychosis*, or palingenesis* has never been a generally accepted tenet of Christianity. The Encyclopaedia Britannica states that it was held as a belief by isolated Christian sects in the 4th and 5th centuries but was always 'repudiated by orthodox theologians', and that it is also not found in early Jewish texts. Hence the idea of rebirth may seem like an Eastern cultural curiosity, and quite alien to Westerners. ‘Rebirth' is perhaps a misleading word. It suggests that something is being born again – re-born. In fact the birth is new form arising from the dissolution of old form. There is a continuity of connection, but no continuity of substance.* Metempsychosis is a philosophical term in the Greek language referring to the belief of transmigration of the soul, especially its reincarnation after death. It is a doctrine popular among a number of Eastern religions such as Hinduism, Jainism and Druzism wherein an individual incarnates from one body to another, either human, animal, or plant. Generally the term is only used within the context of Greek Philosophy, otherwise the phrase transmigration is more appropriate, but the term has also been used by modern thinkers such as Schopenhauer, Gödel, James Joyce,

and Nietzsche. Another term sometimes used synonymously is Palingenesia.** Palingenesis (Gr. palin-, again, genesis, becoming, birth) is a term used for analogous concepts in philosophy, theology, politics, geology and biology: In philosophy, the word palingenesis or rather palingenesia may be traced back to the Stoics, who used the term for the continual re-creation of the universe by the Demiurgus (Creator) after its absorption into himself. Similarly Philo spoke of Noah and his sons as leaders of a renovation or rebirth of the earth. Plutarch of the transmigration of souls, and Cicero of his own return from exile. In the New Testament the properly theological sense of spiritual regeneration is found, though the word itself occurs only twice; and it is used by the church fathers, e.g. for the rite of baptism or for the state of repentance. In philosophy it denotes in its broadest sense the equivalent of metempsychosis. The term has a narrower and more specific use in the system of Schopenhauer, who applied it to his doctrine that the will does not die but manifests itself afresh in new individuals. He thus repudiates the primitive metempsychosis doctrine which maintains the reincarnation of the particular soul. This principle is that each moment of being leads to the next moment of being. This moment may be the moment of living that leads to the next moment of living; the moment of waking consciousness that leads to the next moment of sleeping consciousness; the moment of living consciousness that leads to the next moment of dying consciousness; or the moment of dying consciousness that leads to the next moment of living consciousness. ‘Dying’ here is understood as the end of the animation of a particular physical form. Consciousness continues. There is a stream or continuum of being moments, even if those being moments result in a movement from one state of being to another state of being in terms of our physicality. Like a stream of water. If I dip a cup in a stream to examine the water, the water contained in the cup will be different from the water extracted a few minutes later. The individual drops of water move, change, arise, and dissolve, but the integrity of the continuity of the stream itself is not compromised. The stream can be seen and known and understood as a continuum,

despite the movement and change that denies its existence as a fixed entity named 'stream'.In the same way we recognise a definition of ourselves in terms of a lifetime. I am Nor'dzin and have always been this same person – or so it seems – even though I am aware of the major physical changes that have occurred to my body over the course of time. I may also be aware on a more subtle level of the psychological changes that have happened over the years of my life. I am not the same person at nine months old as I was at nineteen years, forty years, or ninety, even though I may feel a continuity of being. The sense of continuity is real, but is not due to 'something' that has existed continually without change. The continuity has a stream-like nature, but owing to the definitions I place upon myself, and the relative longevity of experiencing myself as this particular being, I become rather attached to existing in this form, and frightened about losing it. Death appears to us like a full stop at the end of a long and valued story. It seems final. Yet death is simply the moment when the stream begins to travel through a new land.Rebirth denies the possibility of a full stop. From the perspective of our experience of the continuity of mind-moments, the possibility of a full stop occurring becomes meaningless. At the moment of death of the tangible body, the movement of intangible mind is followed by another movement of mind – as has always been the case. This movement of mind however, will be without the reference point of the familiar physical body. Clouds arise and dissolve in sky mind continually, and this movement is not limited by physicality. The stream flows and is not limited by the landscape through which it moves. It may be in a rich and verdant valley where it flows fast and full. It may be trickling through limestone in an underwater cavern. It may be struggling through a barren wasteland as a tiny remnant of its former power. Movement of mind continues. After the death of this body however, these moments are experienced in connection with a new and different physical form. This change can be frightening and confusing for us to consider – but only because we

have been so fixated on associating our experience with a specific definition of form. In our attachment to this specific form, we have forgotten that mind does not depend on physicality. We often find change extremely challenging – even within the context of our everyday lives. It is not surprising therefore, that the idea of change at such a radical level is experienced as threatening and traumatic.Teachings on death and rebirth describe a stage of disembodied consciousness between death and rebirth called bardo1. Bardo means 'gap' or 'space'. 'Bar' is a flow or stream, and 'do' is an intermediate place or island in the stream. Between the consciousness of the dying physical being and the consciousness of the reborn physical being – a dream-like state of consciousness is experienced, and this is called Bardo. This is a disorientating or frightening experience if the consciousness has had no experience of the empty nature of Mind. Through attaching all experience to the sphere of our physicality, we limit our awareness of the nature of Mind. When mind is free-flowing, no longer connected to familiar physicality, we can feel lost and disorientated. When we no longer have the context of our physicality, we can be overwhelmed, and experience fear and confusion in relation to the intangible manifestation of disembodied consciousness. Disembodied distraction is more potent and wild than embodied distraction and we therefore can find it overwhelming. Eventually the power of our psychological patterning blows us like the wind, toward habitual formulations in which we grasp at physicality as a secure reference point. We become embodied and once again and begin the process of identifying with physicality in which we ignore the nature of existence as a stream of moments of emptiness, energy, and form.1 Tib. Bar do, Skt. antarabhava

This is an extreme simplification of the subtle process of dying, bardo, and rebirth, but gives some idea of the principle of what Ngak'chang Rinpoche describes as ". . .the continuity of beads of existence on the thread of non-existence" which is the same moment to

moment as it is life to life. If we have any feel for the experiential sense of this continuity, we can begin to grasp the importance of engaging in spiritual practice. Any practice that hones awareness and the ability to allow mind to be free in complete identification with the present moment will be of immense benefit. Practice enables us to experience Sky mind, rather than remaining trapped in cloud mind with its referential need to grasp at physical form. If we have not familiarised ourselves with emptiness through spiritual practice, we continue our referential addiction to form as the factor which defines our existence. The direct experience of non-dual emptiness and form in the bardo is overwhelming for the style of perception desperately seeking form, and therefore we miss the opportunity to see form and emptiness as undivided.However, if I have confidence that the stream of my consciousness will continue, I need never be frightened of death. I need not be frightened because I can recognise death as a natural process occurring in each moment. I can celebrate the fact that I never need be confused or overwhelmed by the process of death, once I learn to exist in the liberated spontaneity of the present moment. Then thoughts of death can become a valuable incentive to engage in spiritual practice. Death makes me aware of the necessity of gaining experience of the nature of Mind and of presence2 while in my physical form, in order to retain this awareness through the process of dying, death, and rebirth. I can begin to practise by learning to remain aware during the dissolution of waking consciousness into sleep consciousness. If I know how to retain awareness through the process of falling asleep, dreaming and waking, then I stand a real chance of retaining a degree of awareness through the more profound transition of falling into death, experiencing the dream-like state of the bardos between rebirths, and waking into a new physical being.2 The word presence in this context is used to denote naked, direct, spontaneous awareness that is without distraction, distortion or dullness. It is awareness that is vibrant and clear in the moment, without concern for past or future.

To be aware through the process of death and dying means that I maintain awareness of the empty thread of my continuity. The endless stream of present moments is the nature of our beginningless enlightenment. I retain memories – but do not manipulate them to filter present experience. I retain awareness of the love I feel for others – but do not convert it into a reference point to establish existence. Presence is an unending stream of moments of potential love and appreciation. Existing in the present moment, I can truly know myself. Knowing myself in this way – without the limitation of viewing my being as a singular isolated entity – I can know others in a new way. I can experience relationships with other beings at the levels of emptiness, energy, and form. I can recognise the intrinsic, beginningless nature-of-being of others and of myself. I can appreciate the multifarious manifestations that arise, without losing the knowledge of their intrinsic, beginningless empty nature. We can know and recognise one another in a totally expansive manner that need never be lost.Impermanence and death are not two separate concepts. All form is impermanent. All form will die. All form – from the chocolate bar you just bought, to the idea in your head, the sensation of wind on your skin, the Statue of Liberty, the Himalayas, and the cells of your body – they will all die. Reality is a continuing flux of emptiness and form, of arising and dissolving, of being born and dying. Death and impermanence encompass ending, cessation, loss, change, evolution, discontinuity, severance, consummation, termination, separation, rupture, completion, arrival, culmination, and achievement. Rebirth encompasses beginning, starting, change, evolution, inception, kindling, birth, debut, conception, inspiration, invention, initiation, embarkation, origination, and precipitation.Impermanence and death are the joy of being. Impermanence and death are the continuity of existence. How wonderful. How wonderful that every moment is an opportunity for something new to arise. How wonderful that the selfish moment in which I just indulged can die, and that a new moment of generosity

can arise. How terrible (not to mention fundamentally impossible) it would be if there were only permanence and eternity. How terrible to be trapped in a particular mind-moment forever. What endless suffering that would be. How wonderful that a moment of appreciation cannot wither and lose its sparkle by becoming fixed and permanent.This sense of wonder reminds me of a poem by Ngak'chang Rinpoche called 'Dharma Dogs in the Dregs* of Time' which deals with appreciation and non-appreciation. I include a couple of stanzas:* dreg – the sediment in a liquid; lees (often in plural); the basest or least desirable portion (often in plural); a small amount; a residue

Chögyam sighs: It really is rather sad. Chögyam wishes that dogs could become wolves.Dog would really like to be wolf. Wolf is: free – has: dignity. Has: fierce gaze. Has unblinking eyes.Wolf has: perfect sharp white teeth. Has: luxurious bristling fur. Wolf sings to the moon!Wolf is: magnificent! But, – somehow – dogs never make the grade; never get to devour a sheep;Never nibble on an elk or taste the porky savour of precious human rebirth.Chögyam Sits and watches the sad sight of sheep dog trials like a horn-rimmed owl. – Chögyam says:This Mont Briac is wonderful! This oaky tannins of this Ravenswood Zinfandel are magnificent!”Chögyam says: “How splendid to taste flavours! How delightful to quaff* the electricity of existence!But, how very sad, that all beings cannot share it – now! How sad to have some sort of integrityBut squander it on second-class postage stamps, and run after sticks as if they had some sort of – meaning.

* to drink (a liquid) heartilyIndeed. ‘How delightful to quaff the electricity of existence!' With appreciation I cannot become so accustomed to this sparkling moment that I fail to see

it. Habitually we allow the people and objects in our lives to merge into the background sludge of indifference – once they are familiar and we feel we can depend upon them being there. The pleasure and excitement I felt climbing into the driving seat of the new car diminishes over time. I lose appreciation and find myself wishing I had bought a different model, or occupy myself deciding on the next vehicle. The wonder I experienced as a child at the beauty of a spectacular sky, or the sensation of rain on my skin, or the sting of hail, may be lost as I plod, head down on my way to wherever. A cynic once described life as 'One damn thing after another' – and so it is when there is no appreciation. The warmth of melting into delightful appreciation of my loved one may fade if I take their love for granted and forget to fall in love with them every day. Love is a dance of communication and shared experience – its existence depends on each arising moment of appreciation.In 2002 Traktung Rinpoche3 visited the UK and gave teachings. When talking about our habitual fixation on form and inability to appreciate in the present moment, he said that if we woke up one morning and discovered that the grass was a different colour, we'd all race outside and cry: “Wow! Look at that! The grass is blue!” Whereas in fact we could all gaze outside in wonder every morning and say: “Wow! Look at that! The grass is green!”3 Traktung Rinpoche and his wife A'dzom Rinpoche are Vajrayana masters who reside in Michigan, USA. They have founded the Tsogyelgar organisation of Vajrayana practitioners.If we consider the idea of an existence of permanence and eternity, it becomes ridiculous. At which point would it become fixed? At conception, one year, twenty, fifty? How could existence be fixed? We would become frozen in time and space. Impermanence and death are the emptiness of form. Impermanence and death are change. I could reiterate the suggestions made in the chapter 'Sky Mind’ – of life without emptiness as life without death and change. The food in our gut would not break down, but remain solid – forever. Breathing,

and circulation would cease because breathing in could not die to allow breathing out to be born. We would only be able to see whatever person or thing we happened to be looking at in the moment that dying stopped. There would be no more flow of communication as one phrase died to allow the birth of the next. We would not be able to move, because the position we found ourselves in could not cease to allow a new one to arise.Life-without-death would mean that it was always today and never our birthday. The spring daffodils would remain resplendent, but the summer roses would never grow and blossom. Our children would not be able to grow up and become independent, because their childhood could not end. We could no longer enjoy music, as the sound of one note could not die to allow the birth of the next. The sick would be trapped in their pain and infirmity without the promise of a cure, relief and a better quality of life.I have always felt that impermanence and death are rather weighty topics because of my personal history. I was first drawn to attend a Buddhist retreat by my inability to come to terms with the death of my father and brother. Dwelling on death was something I was trying to avoid as I felt it would add to my depression, rather than become a reason for hope. Like myself, many people actively avoid thinking about death and loss. Yet avoidance does not change the fact of death as reality. We are bombarded with examples of the many ways we can die every time we watch the news or read a newspaper. War, starvation, murder, cancer, car crashes, terrorist attacks – so many ways to die; so many ways to experience pain. We empathise with the sufferers and their families. We experience the shock of knowing that this could easily happen to us. We feel helpless in the face of world suffering.In the face of death we feel small, vulnerable, and powerless – yet these are simply facts of life and dwelling upon them will not make it better or worse. We cannot run away from death and impermanence just because thinking of it frightens us. People die every moment of every day. Things get lost or broken; events

are concluded; relationships end – impermanence happens every moment of every day. This is inevitable because form is inherently impermanent. It is the nature of form to move, change, arise and dissolve. By the time you finish reading this sentence, several people in the world will have died. In fact approximately one person dies every 0.6 seconds – about ten for every sentence in this book4. The end of what we conceive of as 'life', in the particular physical form we inhabit at the moment, is definitely going to occur and we do not know when this will happen. The only thing we can say about life with absolute certainty is that it will end in our death.4 Source: Population Division of the Department of Economic and Social Affairs of the United Nations Secretariat, World Population Prospects: The 2002 Revision and World Urbanization Prospects: The 2001 Revision, http://esa.un.org/unppWhen I say goodbye to my loved ones as they set off to work or school I do not know whether they will return. It is quite possible that I may never see them again. I may die of a heart attack this day. They may meet a fatal accident. These are sad and upsetting thoughts which we usually try to avoid, because we do not like to think of being separated from our loved ones and this life coming to an end. I may try to avoid thinking such thoughts as much as possible, and find it upsetting when circumstances make this impossible. I may find it almost unbearable when forced to face my own mortality, or the mortality of my loved ones. However, avoidance of the fact of death does not change it any more effectively than thinking about it all the time.Some people use that as a coping strategy. They think about death a great deal and rehearse scenarios of how it may be dealt with it. I found myself imagining losing my children when they were little. These imaginings of what would happen if I died, or about losing my husband or one of the children dying, somehow made feel that I had gained some power over death and reduced its capacity to impact upon me. ‘I’m totally miserable thinking about death, so when it does happen I can’t be any more miserable than I am now.’ However,

the reality of loss, illness, catastrophe, and death are never quite as we imagine them to be, and living in what might be can be most detrimental to what is. The fact is that death is certain and the time and nature of death is unknown.We cannot effectively rehearse death, because our thoughts around death always dwell in past or future. We think of what might be or look at what has been. If I think about my father and feel sad for things we were never able to share, I am grieving for what might have been. I may imagine walks in the county together, or him playing with his grandchildren, or seeing his pride in my achievments as an adult. But all this is imaginary. It is natural to feel sorry for things we might have shared and to miss him, but nothing of what we actually shared together can ever be lost while I still remember it.Another strategy to cope with thoughts of death may be to limit ourselves to try to avoid opportunities for loss and death. So I do not engage in anything too adventurous and am overly protective of my loved ones. I require statements of health and permanence from my loved ones at increasingly frequent intervals in order to assure myself of their security. I may fly into a panic if my partner is just a few minutes late coming home – after all, I know what terrible things can happen, I have thought about them so often – perhaps one of those awful imaginings has come to pass.Alternatively, I may continually challenge death. I may flirt with impermanence to demonstrate it holds no fear for me. Perhaps I take up a high-risk activity, increasing the danger factor every time I succeed in flouting death. I find a higher mountain to climb, or search for a more difficult approach. In fact the closer I come to death the better, because then I know I am really safe, having survived. I may avoid close relationships so that I never have loved ones to lose. I try to own as little as possible so that I have hardly any possessions to lose.However, all strategies to embrace or avoid death, to actively cultivate near-death situations or to attempt to dissolve the fear of death through familiarity, involve

avoidance of the uncertainty of the moment of death. These strategies attempt to make it nearly now or nearly never, but cannot succeed in addressing actually now. When the moment of death arises it will be now. The only preparation we can engage in is to become accustomed to dwelling in now. If we are so preoccupied with our fantasies of what might be and our experiences of what nearly was, we ignore what is.The important thing to recognise is the present moment. If we are alive in the present moment then past loss or future loss are irrelevant; past potential moment of death and future potential moment of death are also irrelevant. Whenever death occurs, be it in sixty seconds time or in sixty years’ time, the moment of death will be now. It will happen in the present moment – whenever that is. Our experience of death or loss will be felt in that present moment of time. It can never be like anything rehearsed or imagined. It can only ever be a new, fresh, unique moment of now-ness, and the only preparation that can help us is a familiarity with now-ness.Many of our worries and fears around death and loss have to do with what will be missed, what will never be achieved and experienced because of death, and what pain and suffering may be experienced around death. These worries and fears are projections grounded in previous experience or imagination. It is never possible for our ideas about loss and death to be anything like the actual experience. I can only experience my death at the time it is happening. I can only experience the death of a loved one at the time it is happening. I risk losing the joy and happiness of life and living with my loved ones through dwelling on death and loss. If I am truly present in this moment, there need never be regret or fear. If I am truly loving and appreciative of my dear ones in this moment, there can no be loss or regret about what is. There will still be the pain of loss – this is inevitable – but it will be pain without the sticky complications of regret or guilt, reproach or remorse. Each moment of time is the reality of what is and to be present with those we love, and share genuine present

moments of love and companionship with them, is to never need to feel regret or fear of their loss.It is natural to feel sad and shocked when a loved one dies, but any regret and sadness we feel about their not being present in our future is grounded in imagination. I yearn and grieve for a future that never existed. I cry for a future that cannot be shared. This is not 'wrong', but is a hindrance to presence. When I dwell too much on death and loss through fear of my own death, or worry about the loss of loved ones, I limit my experience of the shared present moment because of the projection of my fear. When I continually challenge my capacity to face the reality of my own death and the loss of loved ones, I limit my experience of the present moment through self-obsession and an inability to connect at a basic human level.To live in the present moment is to balance the reality that it could be our last moment of life with the understanding that it is also the basis of the next moment of life. This attitude affords an opportunity to view each moment as the precious last moment of experience, and also as the precious seed of new experience. We can let go of limitations we impose upon ourselves because of a projected future, whilst also enjoying the moment as the ground of a possible future. We can let go, but also appreciate. We can be free and spontaneous. We can engage with the death and birth of the present moment – the emptiness and form of the present moment.When I harbour grudges or resentment towards people, I am not living in the present moment. I am living in a conceptual construct that I have created myself. I am mediating my experience of now. Through this conceptual construct I keep resurrecting the experience of the hurt I have suffered. I feel that I must protect myself from a projected future where this person may hurt me again. I fail to engage with the unique unrepeatable present moment of potential enjoyment and appreciation with that person because of my projection. I justify my emotion, because the projection of maintaining it into a future moment makes me feel substantial and secure. I feel that through holding on to

a past emotional memory, I can protect myself in a future situation. It is as if I am attempting to project a substantial sense of myself into the future through hoarded emotion. This feeling of substantiality insulates me from the emptiness of letting go of my emotion in the present. Through holding on to my emotion by generating concepts, I miss out on the potential of the present moment that can only be fully engaged from the perspective of its imminent loss. Through attaching to the illusion of security I gain by holding on to a past hurt, I lose the possibility of experiencing open-hearted joy and appreciation in the present.The remembered past is already lost. The future could be a rewarding, loving relationship with the person who has hurt me. At some point I have to let go of the grudge if I wish to have a continuing, pleasant relationship with them. Whenever I am able to let go of the grudge it will be now. So why not make this moment the now moment.If we grasp the importance of complete identification with the present moment, then the notion of impermanence as something about which we need to be sad or discouraged starts to seem nonsensical. Present moments are infinite. They will never end. The arising of present moments is eternal and will never end. It is the latching on to the content of a particular moment of remembered past or imagined future, to the detriment of the current moment that causes us problems.Once we are able to view death and impermanence simply as loss of the present moment, a great deal of energy can be liberated. We can discover the energy of the flow of the stream. It may be that our 'present moments' are rather 'clumpy' to begin with. We have the ‘present moment’ of this meeting, or this argument, or this day or this evening. Let us imagine I have an hour-long meeting with someone I feel does not like me. This hour is my clump of ‘present moment’. I attempt to approach my interaction with the person as if it is the last hour I will ever see them, have any association with them, or have them exert any influence on my life. I also approach the meeting as if it

was our first ever meeting, new and fresh, and the basis for many future meetings. From the perspective of a last-ever meeting, I may not care what they think of me and feel free to be spontaneous; I may let go of past experiences of them because they cannot affect my future; I may decide that the important thing is to be nice to them now because there will never be another opportunity. From the perspective of a first meeting that will be the basis of future meetings, I may feel free to be spontaneous because this person knows nothing about me; I may be careful to listen and hear their point of view to ensure a basis of understanding for the future; I may delight in the opportunity to meet someone new and appreciate their individuality.It does not matter whether I succeed or fail. It does not matter whether the person is totally unreasonable and nasty to me. I have no past to hold on to, or future to project. When the meeting is over it is over, and the next time we meet I can approach it in the same way. This might sound an extraordinary thing to do at first. ‘But they were horrible to me,’ I splutter. ‘I have to remember that in case they are horrible to me next time. I have to protect myself.’ There is nothing to protect except memory and projection. The next time I meet that person will be a new, fresh present moment opportunity – unless I decide to approach it from the perspective of protecting a remembered ‘me’ projected into the present moment.As we become familiar with viewing impermanence in this way and embracing the present moment, our mind-moment experiences can become less clumpy. We can start to develop awareness in every actual mind-moment. At first we experience presence in a clumsy, artificial way like the flickering frames of an old black and white movie. We continually attempt to apply awareness to our experience and arise with presence, so that we can act from the liberated energy of spontaneity rather than the stilted constriction of expectation and anticipation. We stutter through periods of loss of presence, awareness of presence, loss of presence, awareness of presence... Gradually our ability to dwell in the present moment develops and our

experience of present awareness becomes smoother and less stuttering. Eventually our ability to dwell in the present becomes complete. Then our experience of presence emerges with the flow and brilliance of a 3D holographic Technicolor super-movie.The nature of be-ing is impermanence and death, as much as it is living. To read the next chapter, the reading of this chapter has to die. This is something to be wondered at, enjoyed, and embraced. To be offered a method which teaches us how to dwell in the presence of each moment is an extraordinary opportunity, so rare and precious. Turn your mind to the thought of the opportunity offered by impermanence and death – and joyfully, enthusiastically practise.Impermanence is a cause for celebration. Impermanence is our opportunity to discover presence. Present moments are infinite. They will never end. We will never cease to have opportunities to start again. We will never cease to have opportunities to experience presence. We will always have the opportunity for this moment to be the moment when we dwell in presence. The hate and anger of the past moment is gone, over, lost forever and never need be revisited. The potential for love and appreciation in the present moment can never be destroyed, and leads into another moment of potential love and appreciation. How wonderful!Once I get a feeling for living in the present moment I can be whatever I wish to be. I can dissolve the mind that constrains the present with concepts of the past. I can let go of the churning over of remembered moments that feign permanence through arrogated* re-living. I can dissolve the mind that wishes to influence the future through projection of expectation, to feign permanence through arrogate fantasy. I do not have to be defined by who I was in the last moment, or who I think I might be in the next. If I wake up in a bad mood, I can simply allow that mood to die and allow a good mood moment to be born. I can shout the yogic syllable 'Ha' to explode the bad-mood-mind-moment and be reborn in good-mood-mind-moment. I am liberated! I am free to be kind-mind-moment-person, ecstatic-mind-

moment-person, and brave-mind-moment-person. If I am unfortunate to be experiencing sadness in my life, I know that sad-mind-moment-person is only a temporary definition, and that it can and will change. I am free of permanent definition. Knowing the emptiness of present mind-moment I can fully enjoy its form. Enjoying the form of present mind-moment, I can be ecstatic in the understanding of its emptiness.* to arrogate – to claim or seize without justification [Latin arrogare]Questioner: Joy and appreciation die too . . .?Ngakma Nor'dzin: It is interesting that we have a different relationship with death and impermanence depending on whether we’re talking about something we like or something we don’t like. When we see joy and appreciation naturally dissolve, we fear they will never arise again. When we see pain and sorrow naturally dissolve, we fear they will be back to trouble us again quite soon! Joy and appreciation in the present moment can be followed by joy and appreciation in the next present moment. There is no need to fear its natural dissolution. It can always arise again.Q: Oh I see – yes I can see how we do that.NN: Each mind moment can be joy and appreciation, but not if we cling to its dissolution. If we cling to that moment of dissolving, and try and grab the joy and appreciation to keep it with us, we have lost the reality of joy and appreciation and clung to a concept of it. Our lives could be a stream of continually arising and dissolving moments of joy and appreciation.Q: Earlier on you talked about seeing ourselves as emptiness, energy, and form. How does energy fit in with the death of the body?NN: Energy is intangible manifestation. It is the subtle body of consciousness. When physical form dies, we experience the energy of being more potently and vividly than usual, and this can be a frightening experience if we have no view to allow us to understand it. If mind is like a wild elephant, we experience this as the turmoil of consciousness without physicality. Bardo

can be something of a nightmare experience. Even if we see pleasant images, we still may feel lost, confused, and desperate for form.Q: What about killing yourself to experience death?NN: What do you think?Q: [Laughter] I know it’s not a good idea – it was just something that occurred to me.NN: Always worth asking [laughs]. Suicide is a highly negative act if you have not practised sufficiently to have gained control of the death process. There were Lamas in Tibet who committed suicide through Phowa because they knew that death by execution or through torture would not enable them to maintain awareness of the death process. If we cannot experience awareness in the dream state, then it is unlikely that we will experience awareness in the bardo state. If we cannot maintain awareness into sleep, through dreaming, and into waking, then we stand little chance of maintaining awareness through the more profound experience of death, bardo, and birth. For those of us who have not developed such practice, the state of mind at the moment of death is important. Dying with a happy mind is beneficial.Q: Is that like if you go to sleep after an argument, still feeling all cross and churned up, you might have nightmares or at least unsettled sleep?NN: Yes, that's right. The best way to ensure a happy mind at death is to have a happy mind all the time, as we don't know when death will occur.