We all know that we will die, and yet death is often pushed to the margins of awareness. In the Buddhist tradition, mindfulness of death, or maranasati, is not morbid. It is a practice of turning toward impermanence so that we may live with greater clarity, presence, and care.
In January, BCBS hosted Befriending Mortality: Living An Awakened Life Through Mindfulness of Death (Maranasati) with Nikki Mirghafori. Several participants generously shared reflections from their experience.
Roger Lopata
Having always found the Maranasati Sutta difficult to practice and resonate with, I wasn’t sure where this retreat would lead… Who would’ve expected its gentle guidance would land me right where I was, in the sublime beauty of each moment, the concomitant easing of my clinging mind, and, yes, even some erosion of that big old Self (yeah, with a capital S)? Who would’ve expected? I guess if I paid more attention all the time, I would’ve known… Thanks to Nikki, my fellow yogis, and the wonderful staff at BCBS.
Susan Gilday
“Hello fellow mortals! We are all going to die.” These were teacher Nikki Mirghafori’s opening words for Befriending Mortality: Living An Awakened Life Through Mindfulness of Death.
What made me decide to attend this crazy retreat? Two reasons, actually. First, being in the third trimester of my life, I’ve been thinking of death a lot. Between the physical decline of my Dad, life-shortening diagnoses among my contemporaries, the sudden death of a college friend, and my own aging body, I need to accept that this ride isn’t going to last forever.
Secondly, I’ve been realizing how mindlessly I rush through my days—trying to finish this project, fulfill that obligation, quickly get from point A to point B. What am I rushing toward? The big dirt nap? That’s nuts! I’ve got to find out what’s so great about life and quit treating it like it’s something to get over with.
Nikki’s next line after those first words was “And we’re all alive right now!” That was really the crux of the retreat: the circular relationship of life to death. Scared of death? Live your life like you mean it. Looking for meaning in your life? Contemplating your own death will help clarify what’s important. Easy, right? Nope—it takes practice. So practice we did.
The mornings included a dharma talk and both walking and sitting meditation. Afternoons were given over to exploring different concepts (living with uncertainty, “don’t know” mind) in dyads or triads. I enjoyed these interactions the most. Partly because talking with others helps me clarify my own thoughts, and partly because I enjoy hearing what others have to say. I find there’s a commonality to the human experience that you only find out when you talk to other humans. We all come from different circumstances but seem to struggle with the same things. It is so affirming to know that you’re not weird and you’re not alone.
The final exercise was to write our own obituary. Nikki set the stage by reporting that NASA had called to say that a meteor was barreling toward Earth, due to hit in 15 minutes. BCBS was at ground zero. Instructions were very loose: It could be factual, it could be insights, it could be an emotional biography. The point was to feel the urgency of the situation and write about what was most important to you in that moment. Then we broke into triads to discuss. Approaches within my triad were very different. But as usual, the sharing was deep, the vibe was supportive, and each of the stories resonated among us.
What I took home with me was not only the deep feeling of interconnectedness, but the truth that life is short and therefore precious. People are important and I need to let them know that. I need to live in and savor each moment. Because one never knows when that meteor is going to hit.
Lucy Brown
I arrived at the Barre Center on a cold January afternoon, when the whole place was covered in snow. To get there, the car ride through snow-covered woods lit with winter sunlight was centering. It was the first time I had come there, and it felt like “home” immediately, with the New England Farmhouse and stone walls. It was important to me that the surroundings were welcoming, because the title of the retreat was a bit scary: Befriending Mortality.
I had participated in a Zoom retreat of the same title with the teacher, Nikki Mirghafori, and in another in-person retreat with her. I knew she would be a great teacher for the topic of mortality; she has taught it many times, Living an Awakened Life through Mindfulness of Death. Still, it was daunting.
I came because I had experienced three major family and friend losses in the past year, and my husband had died just two months before. I’d been thinking about death a lot, and the idea of “befriending” mortality and “mindfulness of death” leading to an awakened life sounded like just what I needed. And it was.
It’s good to be with people who understand the loss of someone important in one’s life and what that means to one’s sense of stability and impermanence of life. There are so many emotions and questions that come up about death, and of course the loss of one’s own life, too. But research shows that components of well-being in the face of these emotions include seeking answers to existential questions, especially through storytelling and our actions. This retreat involved storytelling and other helpful activities.
I especially loved Nikki’s emphasis on her interpretation of one of the Buddha’s statements that our actions are our inheritance, not our parents’ stature or wealth.
I came away from the retreat realizing that I had been wanting to befriend mortality for many years, and I had finally made a lot of progress toward that easeful state. For me, there is a lot to remember about this retreat, and to incorporate into my life.
