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may/june 2018yogajournal.com.auA meditation on impermanence showed teacher
Max Strom how to make the most of his life.
PHOTO: OLMOROZ/ ISTOCKPHOTO.COMFROM TIME TO TIME, nearly all of us
are prompted to reassess our priorities.
The trigger is usually an event or an
interaction that leads to an epiphany.
In that moment, we see the essence
of who we really are. This can spark
spontaneous and sudden growth at
a deep level, altering the course of
our lives.
One of the events that helped jolt
me awake happened in India, almost
15 years ago.
My travelling companion and I had
arrived by train at the teeming city of
Varanasi—a pilgrimage destination
for Hindus of all denominations who
believe that bathing in the water of
the sacred Ganges River remits sins,
and that dying in Varanasi ensures the
release of a person’s soul from the
cycle of death and rebirth. Many
Hindus travel to this holy city to die
and be cremated on the series of steps
leading down to the river, called ghats,
and to have their remains scattered in
the water.On our first sojourn down the ghats,
we found ourselves near billowing
smoke. We were taken aback at the sight
of seven bodies wrapped in muslin cloth,
set ablaze. The families in mourning sat
only a few feet from the flames.
My friend and I looked for just a
moment, and then thought we should
move away. We felt like we were
intruders disturbing something very
personal. But as we turned to leave,
one of the attendants in charge of the
burning approached us and asked us
to stay. He ignored our objections and
discomfort. Instead, he led us through
the crowd and gestured for us to sit on
the steps about 40 feet from the corpses.
He left us to observe the sacred event
after pointedly delivering the phrase
“cremation is education”—an axiom
I instantly memorised.
We both sat in silent contemplation
as the afternoon sun glared through the
thick smoke. I watched the attendants
stoke the fire with long poles and even
break off charred limbs from the bodies.HOW TO LIVE more
FULLY
As the muslin cloth burned away, I saw
the feet and hands of the bodies turn
black, and I felt moved by the weeping
of the grieving families nearby.
I decided to use this extraordinary
opportunity to engage in a form of active
meditation I had read about many years
earlier—a practice common in Tibetan
Buddhism, Hindu asceticism, and
Sufism aimed at helping one realise the
impermanence of the body. The
concept dictates that when a person truly
understands how short mortal life is,
he or she is launched into a deeper state of
reality, able to live a profoundly richer life.
The practice was simple: imagine
that the corpses were the bodies of the
people you love the most. In other
words, make it as personal as possible.
After focusing my imagination for
a while, the vision became very real.
With open eyes brimming with tears,
I imagined seven of the most beloved
people in my life engulfed in flames. It
was profoundly moving, and I found
myself grieving deeply.