As my father was dying, the phrase, "Life and death are one," repeatedly arose in my thoughts. One hears these sorts of things when reading around Zen, but to consider this when sitting next to the corpse of a loved one brings it into sharp relief. At that moment, looking at his face, I thought it over and over again like a mantra. It made an intuitive sense to me that I've struggled to explain to myself in the ten days since then.
In the Shobogenzo is a fascicle called "Shoji" or "Life and death". It's short, but here's an excerpt:
To understand that we move from birth to death is a mistake. Birth is a state at one moment; it already has a past and will have a future. For this reason, it is said in the Buddha-Dharma that appearance is just non-appearance. Extinction also is a state at one moment; it too has a past and a future. This is why it is said that disappearance is just non-disappearance. In the time called life, there is nothing besides life. In the time called death, there is nothing besides death. Thus, when life comes it is just life, and when death comes it is just death; do not say, confronting them, that you will serve them, and do not wish for them.
This life-and-death is just the sacred life of buddha... There is a very easy way to become buddha. Not committing wrongs; being without attachment to life-and-death; showing deep compassion for all living beings, venerating those above and pitying those below; being free of the mind that dislikes the ten thousand things and free of the mind that desires them; the mind being without thought and without grief: this is called buddha. Look for nothing else. (Trans. Nishijima & Cross)
When dying comes, it is just dying, and does not belong to the realm of living. Dying is complete on its own. To be non-attached is not to be empty of grief or other emotions; when grief comes, it is just grief. And when we sit round the table and tell silly stories about dad's life, laughter comes and it is just laughter. We have thrown ourselves into these moments.
I miss you, dad.
