“The sacred Raskoano (death) is full of inner beauty. The Truth about death is only known by the one who has experienced its deep significance. The Moon carries away the deceased and brings them back. The extremes touch each other. Death and conception are intimately united. The path of life is formed by the tracks of the hooves of the Horse of Death.”
-Samael Aun Weor, Esoteric Treatise of Hermetic Astrology
The seed of death is sown at the moment of birth. All things are born, grow, mature, become old and die, to be reborn again in some form. Death is a natural part of life, and all things are impermanent with the passage of time. We may often find ourselves fight against impermanence, either by wanting nothing to change or by having constant change and upheaval but still repeating the same patterns.
The purpose of life is the awakening of consciousness. This means awakening, being aware in life, not afraid to live, interact, make mistakes, and take risks, but also to pray and reflect on our actions. True healing is this awakening in life.
Tibetan Buddhism teaches that life is merely a preparation for death, always remember death, do not be surprised when it comes. As an exercise we can reflect on what we would do if we had one year left to live. Often that prognosis will give people more reason to live fully, to get out of that dull sleepwalk of life.
What would be change in our lives? How would we interact differently with those close to us? With those we don’t know, just see on the street or at the store? With those we have problems and difficulties with? What would our relationship with our inner Being be? What would we do first thing tomorrow? How would we feel about our current most pressing problems? Can we face fears? Can we show more love and gratitude?
When Death Comes
by Mary Oliver
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps his purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.