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..:: Death ::..
By
Alan Schneider
People often find the concept of their ultimate
and final demise in death to be a matter of the utmost discomfort to
contemplate in any terms, whether rhetorical or literal. In this
article, we will be invited to explore this phenomenon, and this
exploration will include not only expositions regarding the end of life,
but the nature of life itself as experienced by the living.
The human physical body of flesh is the carrier of the experience of
human consciousness on the physical plane of manifestation. Now, that
consciousness may be both immanent – or self aware – and subtle – or
largely latent (unconscious) – but very few people seem to have no sense
of their presence in the physical continuum of experience –
consciousness, in a word. If we continue the investigation of this state
of things, we quickly discover that far and away the largest component
of our consciousness is derived from the activity of the physical senses
– vision, audition, tactility, olfaction, and taste. These various
systems of interface with the external environment all have their
respective frequencies of operation – sampling intervals – and there are
additionally dedicated areas of the brain that receive, log into memory,
and interpret the incoming signal/data streams. This is all quite
mechanistic in character, with some notable points to be made, among
them that at no point are we ever in contact with the true, literal
nature of the external world that the senses show us. All we ever really
“know” is the complex, composite impression that is assembled in the
brain – an impression of a “world” of sensation. It is this world that
we effectively “die” out of at the end of “life”.
And there is more
to this picture. There is a focus of awareness in the relatively large
brain that we support which supports our consciousness. The name given
to this focus by Freud was ego. My ego is my most direct sense of
manifestation in life. And this is a very complex expression of
consciousness, indeed. The ego is simultaneously the record of all my
acculturation (through memory), my ongoing sensory amalgam, the vaguely
(and sometimes not so vaguely) defined elements of my unconscious
impressions, and my thought constructs, beliefs, and emotions, to name
just a few areas present. No one can say how many areas may truly be
active in self perception. The ego has the primary task of augmenting
and enhancing survival, and the quality of experience, for the physical
organism. This is generally achieved by comparison of observed states of
manifestation – we are all always noting the relative quality and
quantity of our experiences of the world, in comparison to our memory of
experience in life, and our imagined impressions of the quality and
quantity of experiences of others. The ego is also capable of running
several background “programs” as well, including a more or less complex
ongoing threat assessment, ongoing assessment of the availability of sex
partners, and a floating monitor of available resources. Any of these
(and a variety of other) programs can be called into the forefront of
consciousness instantaneously in response to a dramatic mosaic of drive
states that is also both consciously and unconsciously monitored by the
same physical senses that monitor the external world. So, my personal
sense of self – my ego – is a complex, dynamic condition that
continuously oscillates in both intensity and variety.
This brings us to
the first point to be made in the question of existence. There is never
a fixed little “me” that I can point to as being “myself” present in
consciousness at any given time. There is only a region of “me-ness”
that I am aware of more or less directly through second hand observation
of “personal” phenomena, almost always referenced to my experience of my
physical body and its processes. What this all boils down to is: when I
look for myself intensely, I discover that “I” do not really exist! The
closest we come to existence is the ongoing physical sensation of the
central nervous system, which seems to more or less consistently report
to us on the presence of our body surrounded by a world – a body and
world that we can never really know as anything other than electronic
shadows in the brain. Even the brain is not directly experienced – we
only know that “part” of the brain called the mind, and generally only
that part of the mind called the ego! I am a chaotic blur of sensation
occurring somewhere...that is the reality of my existence. The apparent
structure of my ongoing self is the result of socialization with my
peers – we all “talk” ourselves into the shared perception of our life
and culture.
The next point to be made is that our “phantom existence” is
neurologically integrated as the result of our brain chemistry. Our
perception of things is inevitable. Even if I objectively know that my
supposedly concrete existence is a fallacy, my brain will still hold
that existence together as a real experience with “me” at its center! It
is the collapse of this perception in death that is so feared by so
many. What are we to do with such a condition that is at once
demonstratedly false, and so experientially real?
A possible inroad
to the dilemma of death begins with the understanding that something
which is inherently unreal must of necessity live in the fear of the
discovery of its own true nature – nonexistence. When we cease the
incessant inner dialog that holds our perception together, we begin to
confront the difficult truth of out lives – “reality” is not really
there, and we are not really there. The eventual advantage to this
challenging investigation is the discovery that death is not really
there either. So, the beginning of the answer to the ultimate riddle of
death begins in the rejection of the false truth of life.
Since logic is a mechanism of this “false truth”, we cannot use it as
anything more than a superficial support for the process. It is useful
only in so far as it enables us to understand the illusion of life. A
truly experiential process is needed to progressively decondition us out
of the acculturated illusion of our existence. This author knows of no
more effective way to proceed in this sense than the practice of
meditation – the intentional and progressive rejection of the senses by
turning within to seek what might be found in the vast, and frequently
untapped, reservoir of our extended consciousness.
The decision to
meditate requires a certain level of courage. We are, after all,
consciously rejecting what we have heretofore known as our reality, in
favor of what is initially a question mark of gargantuan proportions. It
is no wonder that many turn back to the comfort of their illusions! The
problem with this stance is that the answer to the riddle of death can
only be found in meditation. This author has spent his life in search of
this and many other “answers”, and has found that all of them are
revealed in the meditative state, and nowhere else! In order to know the
truth, we must step completely out of the illusion – out of the mind,
brain, and body – while still alive, and only meditation and certain
near death experiences make this possible. Of the two, meditation is
certainly the gentler route!
The Buddhists
have an interesting saying regarding meditation: “If I die before I die,
then I do not die when I die...” There is a profound
truth in this observation. Meditation amounts to relaxing the ego to
sleep – a sort of death of the senses – and with the onset of that
sleep-like trance state, the persistent background fear of death is also
lulled to sleep, permitting the contents on the deep unconscious mind to
begin to emerge. This is experienced as a “life-after-death” in an
altered state of consciousness. Most people have no conception of what
this experience is like, since they have never known freedom from the
ego and its incessant preoccupation with enforcing the illusion of
existence through fear and gratification.
The “other
worlds” of meditation are many and varied. A full discussion of all of
them, if such a discussion is indeed possible, lies well beyond the
scope of this document. Suffice it to say that the Buddhist “death
before death” opens the door to an enormous panorama of perception that
boggles the mind of not only the novice meditator, but the experienced
meditator as well. To this day, I am amazed at the apparently unending
expressions of consciousness thrust into my perception while meditating,
and this after decades of practice! The possibilities are endless...
Life and death
are partners in the illusion of existence – life by keeping us seduced
in an endless display of sensory distraction, and death by keeping us
afraid to leave the wheel of the mind even for an instant through the
fear of oblivion at abandoning the sensory continuum. But, if there is
any hope of ever surmounting death, it must lie in the acceptance of the
existence of some kind of experience that lies beyond the senses, and
meditation is something that can be experienced now, before physical
death arrives. Any sensible person will avail him or her self of this
option under that circumstance.
The essential
technique of meditation is quite simple. One must first find a quiet
space that will remain so for an extended period of time. If no other
quite space can be found, a library will usually suffice. Having found
such a space, one assumes a comfortable posture in some kind of
application – a chair will also suffice. It is advisable that one remain
upright for the interval – this is the only requirement. Having found a
comfortable seat, and quite space, settle back and close the eyes. Begin
to notice your breathing, as it settles out into a slow, deep rhythm.
Simply continue to observe your breathing as your state of relaxation
continues. This will induce an initial altered state of consciousness
that is ego-free. One may have visions while meditating. Simply note
them and allow them to pass by as the breathing continues. One may
experience agitation – particularly in the early stages of the practice.
The ego is very persistent, and will not let go of its grip on
consciousness easily. If the agitation becomes too severe, simply return
to your ego consciousness, and try again later. You can set a (quiet)
timer to bring yourself out of the meditation when first beginning the
practice. Perhaps fifteen minutes is a good first interval. Upon
returning to ego consciousness, take a few minutes to let your mind
“normalize” to the experience of the world. Then, go on about your day.
This is all there is to the practice!
This simple
exercise will, if undertaken with dedication, unlock the doors to all
the states of conscious experience, and release us from both enslavement
to the senses, and the accompanying fear of death. One must only take
the first step...
- With Love, Alan -
(CR2007, Alan Schneider)
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