| I'd advise not looking for a coping mechanism. But feel deeply into it. It's heartbreaking yes, but love is underlying that heartbreak. The love of experiencing life. Death is a doorway really. It grants freedom from the tyranny of the beliefs that things are permanent or they have to be a certain way. Every moment dies to the next and we are the constant awareness, aware of ourselves and the "things" we name that is actually just one thing - the totality of experience. As experience continuously morphs, we remain at peace as that which hears these words. That which knows the thoughts that arise. Death, in how we conceptualise it, is illusory. There is no evidence of anything apart from our awareness of it. Think of it like a move screen. To the characters in the movie, death is real. To the observer of the character it's a play. And what is a play with no stakes? There are structural beliefs that we are this body. Are you this body? Does the body contain consciousness or is the body made up of consciousness (as in, without awareness of a body, how can it be known to exist). Same with our thoughts and feelings. All concepts arise within this (whatever this is) but do not colour the colourless canvas that we are. Yes, death is an experience but is it really the awareness, that which you are, that dies? Or is the thoughts of a body to which we attribute the thought of death? I'm not talking about personal awareness. What would that mean? Awareness would be both aware of the term "personal" and "impersonal". Leaving the awareness still colourless as these thoughts come and go within it, inseparable from it. So don't shy away from this, look closer and see it clearly. It's okay to have the beliefs we have about being the body but we cannot confuse it for our direct experience. And our direct experience of death, which is a thought. |