第九章:死亡與永恒
Death and the Eternal
When you walk though a forest that has not been tamed and
interfered with by man, you will see not only abundant life around you, but you
will also encounter fallen trees and decaying trunks, rotting leaves and
decomposing matter at every step. Wherever you look, you will find death as
well as life.
穿越一座尚未為人類所開發與幹擾的森林,你看見的將不隻是周遭豐沛的生命,同時也會有倒木和枯幹,舉步之間,處處皆是腐葉與正在分解的物質。無論你往哪邊看去,都會看到生命,同時也發現死亡。
Upon closer scrutiny, however, you will discover that the
decomposing tree trunk and rotting leaves not only give birth to new life, but
are full of life themselves. Microorganisms are at work. Molecules are
rearranging themselves. So death isn’t to be found anywhere. There is only the
metamorphosis of life forms. What can you learn from this?
然而,若是上前仔細檢查,你將發現那些分解中的樹幹及腐葉,不僅帶來新的生命,它們本身也充滿了生氣。微生物正努力工作,分子們也正自我重組中。所以,哪裏都找不到死亡,隻有生命形態的不同變態。你,從這一切學到了什麽?
Death is not the opposite of life. Life has no opposite.
The opposite of death is birth. Life is eternal.
生命的相對並非死亡,生命是沒有對立麵的。死亡的相對是誕生,生命是永恒的。
Sages and poets throughout the ages have recognized the
dreamlike quality of human existence–seemingly so solid and real and yet so
fleeting that it could dissolve at any moment.
自古以來的聖賢哲人與詩人墨客,都曾道破人的存在有著如夢似幻的特質,它看起來如此地堅固與真實,卻又如此地短暫,能於轉瞬間煙消雲散。
At the hour of your death, the story of your life may,
indeed, appear to you like a dream that is coming to an end. Yet even in a
dream there must be an essence that is real. There must be a consciousness in
which the dream happens; otherwise, it would not be.
瀕於死亡之時,你一生的故事確實有可能感覺像夢一般地即將結束。然而即使在夢中,也必須有真實不虛的本質,必得有覺識的存在,夢才能於其中發生;否則,哪裏會有夢呢?
That consciousness – does the body create it or does
consciousness create the dream of body, the dream of somebody?
究竟是身體創造了這覺識?或是覺識夢見了身體、覺識夢見了有某個人?
Why have most of those who went through a near-death
experience lost their fear of death? Reflect upon this.
為何大部分具有瀕死經驗的人,不再恐懼死亡?為什麽?請仔細想想看!
Of course you know you are going to die, but that remains a
mere mental concept until you meet death “in person” for the first time:
through a serious illness or an accident that happens to you or someone close
to you, or through the passing away of a loved one, death enters your life as
the awareness of your own mortality.
你當然知道自己正在邁向死亡,但那都僅隻是心理上的一個概念,直到有一天你“親身”與死亡相遇,也許是你或你身邊的人得了重病或發生意外,也許是摯愛的人辭世,你才覺知到自己也不免一死,這時死亡便進入了你的生命。
Most people turn away from it in fear, but if you do not
flinch and face the fact that your body is fleeting and could dissolve at any
moment, there is some degree of disidentification, however slight, from your
own physical and psychological form, the “me.” When you see and accept the
impermanent nature of all life forms, a strange sense of peace comes upon you.
大多數人在麵對死亡時,會因恐懼而別過頭去,但如果你不退縮,勇敢地麵對肉體是暫時的,極可能在任何一刻消失,那麽,你多少會對自己生理與心理上那表相的“我”,有某種程度的“認同解構”。當你了解並接受所有生命形態都是無常的,一種奇異的內在和平感便降臨了。
Through facing death, your consciousness is freed to some
extent from identification with form. This is why in some Buddhist traditions,
the monks regularly visit the morgue to sit and meditate among the dead
bodies.
藉由麵對死亡,你的覺識將在某種程度上,擺脫了對於表相的認同。所以,在有些佛教傳統中,僧侶才會定期造訪停屍之處,並在屍體之間打坐與禪修。
There is still a widespread denial of death in Western
cultures. Even old people try not to speak or think about it, and dead bodies
are hidden away. A culture that denies death inevitably becomes shallow and
superficial, concerned only with the external form of things. When death is
denied, life loses its depth. The possibility of knowing who we are beyond name
and form, the dimension of the transcendent, disappears from our lives because
death is the opening into that dimension.
在西方文化之中,還是普遍存在著對於死亡的否定,即使是老人也避諱去談論或思考死亡,死去的軀體更被遠遠地藏了起來。一個不承認死亡的文化,必然會變得膚淺與迷信,變得隻在意事物的表相。否定了死亡,生命將失去它的深度,我們將失去了解那名稱與表相之後的自己究竟是誰的可能性,我們更失去了解那超越一般人類心智經驗的境界的機會,因為死亡就是通往那裏的一扇門。
People tend to be uncomfortable with endings, because every
ending is a little death. That’s why in many languages, the word for “good-bye”
means “see you again.”
人們對於各種“結束”總是感到不自在,因為每個結束都是一次小的死亡。這就是為何在許多不同的語言之中,“再見”這個字的意思是指“下次再見到你”的原因。
Whenever an experience comes to an end–a gathering of
friends, a vacation, your children leaving home–you die a little death. A
“form” that appeared in your consciousness as that experience dissolves. Often
this leaves behind a feeling of emptiness that most people try hard not to
feel, not to face.
朋友聚會、假期、孩子要離家了,無論何時,事情每到了尾聲,你也小小地“死”了一次。你的覺識之中會生起一個“感受”,而那通常是一種“空虛”的感覺,大多數人都努力不去感覺它,不去麵對它。
If you can learn to accept and even welcome the endings in
your life, you may find that the feeling of emptiness that initially felt
uncomfortable turns into a sense of inner spaciousness that is deeply
peaceful.
如果你可以學著去接受,甚或迎接生命的結束,你或許將發現那原本讓你不自在的“空虛”感覺,已轉化成一種深沉平靜、內在寬廣無垠的感受。
By learning to die daily in this way, you open yourself to
Life.
每天學著這樣死去,你對生命就開放了。
Most people feel that their identity, their sense of self,
is something incredibly precious that they don’t want to lose. That is why they
have such fear of death.
大多數人認為自己的身份、自我感,是及其珍貴且不能失去的東西,因此,他們對死亡是如此地恐懼。
It seems unimaginable and frightening that “I” could cease
to exist. But you confuse that precious “I” with your name and form and a story
associated with it. That “I” is no more than a temporary formation in the field
of consciousness.
“我”的存在終止了,這似乎無法想象,又讓人害怕。其實,你把那珍貴的“我”與我的名字、我的形相身體和我的故事搞混了。那個“我”充其量不過就是覺識場上一個暫時的構成罷了!
As long as that form identity is all you know, you are not
aware that this preciousness is your own essence, your innermost sense of I Am,
which is consciousness itself. It is the eternal in you–and that’s the only
thing you cannot lose.
如果你所知道的隻是對這些對外在形相的認同,那你就尚未覺察到,最珍貴的其實是你的本體,是你內心深處“我本是”的存在感,也就是覺識本身。它是你內在的永恒,也是你唯一不會失去的東西。
Whenever any kind of deep loss occurs in your life – such
as loss of possessions, your home, a close relationship; or loss of your
reputation, job, or physical abilities – something inside you dies. You feel
diminished in your sense of who you are. There may also be a certain
disorientation. “Without this...who am I?”
生命中如果發生了嚴重的損失,例如失去財產、你的家、一段親密關係;或者失去你的名聲、工作或身體功能等,你內在某些東西也會死去。你的自我感會縮小,甚至還會有些迷茫:“沒有了這些......我是誰?”
When a form that you had unconsciously identified with as
part of yourself leaves you or dissolves, that can be extremely painful. It
leaves a hole, so to speak, in the fabric of your existence.
那個在你無覺識的狀況下被認定為自己的一部分的有形的我,如果棄你而去,或化為烏有,會造成極大的痛苦,好像是在你的存在結構上,留下了一個空洞。
When this happens, don’t deny or ignore the pain or the
sadness that you feel. Accept that it is there. Beware of your mind’s tendency
to construct a story around that loss in which you are assigned the role of
victim. Fear, anger, resentment, or self-pity are the emotions that go with
that role. Then become aware of what lies behind those emotions as well as
behind the mind-made story: that hole, that empty space. Can you face and
accept that strange sense of emptiness? If you do, you may find that it is no
longer a fearful. You may be surprised to find peace emanating from it.
當它發生了,請不要否定或忽略你所感受到的痛苦或悲傷,接納這一切,謹防心智據此損失構出一個故事,一個你在其中扮演受害者角色的故事,恐懼、生氣、怨恨或自卑,都將伴隨此角色而來。請覺察在這些情緒與由心智所打造的故事背後隱藏了什麽:那個空洞,那個什麽都沒有的空間。你能夠麵對並接納那“空”所帶來的奇異感受嗎?如果你真的可以,你就會有可能發現那“空”不再是個令人害怕的地方,甚至能驚訝地發現從那之中所散發出的平靜安祥。
Whenever death occurs, whenever a life form dissolves, God,
the formless and unmanifested, shines through the opening left by the
dissolving form. That is why the most sacred thing in life is death. That is
why the peace of God can come to you through the contemplation and acceptance
of death.
無論死亡何時發生,無論生命形體何時消失,神--那無形、無相且未顯化的狀態,將透過形體消散後留下的開放空間發出光芒。那就是為何生命中最神聖的事情就是死亡,那也是為何神的祥和,可以透過沉思和接納死亡,來到你麵前。
How short-lived every human experience is, how fleeting our
lives. Is there anything that is not subject to birth and death, anything that
is eternal?
人的經曆是如此短暫,生命轉瞬即逝,有什麽是不受限於生死的?有什麽是永恒的?
Consider this: if there were only one color, let us say
blue, and the entire
world and everything in it were blue, then there would be
no blue. There needs to be something that is not blue so that blue can be
recognized; otherwise, it would not “stand out,” would not exist.
想想看,如果世上隻有一種顏色,假設是藍色,整個世界與其中所有一切都是藍色,那藍色就不再是藍色了。必須要有某樣不是藍色的東西,藍色才能被襯托出來;否則,它將無法“顯現”,無法存在。
In the same way, does it not require something that is not
fleeting and impermanent for the fleetingness of all things to be recognized?
In other words: if everything, including yourself, were impermanent, would you
even know it? Does the fact that you are aware of and can witness the
short-lived nature of all forms, including your own, not mean that there is
something in you that is not subject to decay?
同樣地,不也必須有某些並非短暫、不持久的東西,才能讓人們認清萬事萬物皆是無常的?換句話說,如果所有的一切,包括你自己,都是瞬間即逝的,你還能知道這些嗎?你從萬物無常的本質,從你自己身上所覺知到的、所見證到的真理,不正意味著你內在存在著某些東西,是永不衰去的嗎?
When you are twenty, you are aware of your body as strong
and vigorous; sixty years later, you are aware of your body as weakened and
old. Your thinking too may have changed from when you were twenty, but the
awareness that knows that your body is young or old or that your thinking has
changed has undergone no change. That awareness is the eternal in
you–consciousness itself. It is the formless One Life. Can you lose It? No,
because you are It.
二十歲時,你覺得自己身強體壯、精力充沛;六十年後,你覺得自己既衰老且虛弱。你的想法可能也和身體一樣,自二十歲以來改變了許多,但是那覺知到身體是年輕或衰老,覺知到想法已改變的覺性本身,卻從未改變,那覺性是你內在的永恒,是覺識本身。它是無形、無相的宇宙共同生命,你會失去它嗎?不會,因為你就是它。
Some people become deeply peaceful and almost luminous just
before they die, as if something is shining through the dissolving form.
有些人臨終前十分平靜安祥,甚至透著光彩,好似有什麽東西從他那即將消逝的形體裏照射出來。
Sometimes it happens that very ill or old people become
almost transparent, so to speak, in the last few weeks, months, or even years
of their lives. As they look at you, you may see a light shining through their
eyes. There is no psychological suffering left. They have surrendered and so
the person, the mind-made egoic “me,” has already dissolved. They have “died
before they died” and found the deep inner peace that is the realization of the
deathless within themselves.
有時,在一些重症患者或老人身上,也可看到他們在生命的最後數周、數月,甚至數年之間,變得清透。當他們凝視著你,你可能會看見他們眼中閃耀著光芒。那裏沒有了精神上的痛苦,他們已然臣服了,而那個心智小我也已然消失不見。他們在“死前先死過”了,並找到了內心深處的和平,了悟了他們自己內在是永恒不朽的。
To every accident and disaster there is a potentially
redemptive dimension that we are usually unaware of.
每件意外與災難,都存在著一個可能的救贖,我們卻經常未能察覺。
The tremendous shock of totally unexpected, imminent death
can have the effect of forcing your consciousness completely out of identification
with form. In the last few moments before physical death, and as you die, you
then experience yourself as consciousness free of form. Suddenly, there is no
more fear, just peace and a knowing that “all is well” and that death is only a
form dissolving. Death is then recognized as ultimately illusory–as illusory as
the form you had identified with as yourself.
突如其來的死亡所帶來的震撼,將迫使你的意識脫離對形相的認同。肉體死亡前的最後時刻,以及死亡的那一刻,你將體驗到自己不再是那軀殼,而是意識本身。刹那間,再也沒有恐懼,隻有平靜以及知道“一切安好”,知道了死亡隻是形體的消失。死亡於是被認出來它終究是虛幻不實的,就像你曾認同過的形體一樣虛幻不實。
Death is not an anomaly or the most dreadful of all events
as modern culture would have you believe, but the most natural thing in the
world, inseparable from and just as natural as its other polarity–birth. Remind
yourself of this when you sit with a dying person.
死亡並不像現代文明要你相信的那樣,是違反常態,或是人生中最可怕的事。其實,它是世上最自然不過的一件事,與它所對應的“生”同樣自然,而且密不可分。當你坐在瀕死之人身旁,請記得這點。
It is a great privilege and a sacred act to be present at a
person’s death as a witness and companion.
見證並陪伴他人步向死亡,是神聖的行為,更是莫大的恩典。
When you sit with a dying person, do not deny any aspect of
that experience. Do not deny what is happening and do not deny your feelings.
The recognition that there is nothing you can do may make you feel helpless,
sad, or angry. Accept what you feel. Then go one step further: accept that
there is nothing you can do, and accept it completely. You are not in control.
Deeply surrender to every aspect of that experience, your feelings as well as
any pain or discomfort the dying person may be experiencing. Your surrendered
state of consciousness and the stillness that comes with it will greatly assist
the dying person and ease their transition. If words are called for, they will
come out of the stillness within you. But they will be secondary.
當你坐在瀕死之人身旁,不要對這經曆有任何否定,不要否定正在發生的事情,也不要否定你的感覺。發現自己幫不上忙,或許讓你感到無助、難過或生氣,但你要接納這樣的感受,然後更進一步地,接納自己的無能為力,徹底全然地接納。事情不受你主導,深深地臣服於眼前的一切與你的感覺,以及臣服於那瀕死之人可能經曆的任何痛苦或不適。寂照伴隨著你已臣服的覺識狀態,將會對臨終者助益良多,而使得這段死亡的轉化過程更容易一些。若有必要說話,那也必發自你內心深處的寂照,但那不是最重要的。
With the stillness comes the benediction: peace.
隨著寂照而來的是祝禱的恩賜--內在深邃的平靜。