Die When It Is Time; Fight for Every Step of Life

Why was Tao Yuanming so open-minded? One of his poems gives the answer: “Drifting freely in the great transformation of nature, I feel neither joy nor fear. What should end must end; there is no need for further anxious thought.” Many people fear death, but he did not. He regarded death as the work of nature's “great transformation”; he wrote about death quite poetically, and “drifting freely in the great transformation” is like a wave-rider riding the surge.

This has a touch of Zhuangzi about it. When Zhuangzi's wife died, Huishi criticized Zhuangzi for being heartless: his old wife had accompanied him all her life, and though he need not weep at her death, beating on a tub and singing went too far. Zhuangzi replied: at first I grieved, indeed, but then I reflected that the physical body is merely a shell borrowed from nature, destined to be returned; death is like going home—why grieve? When Zhuangzi lay dying, his disciples discussed how to bury him; Zhuangzi said simply to throw him out into the wild and let the vultures peck at him. Why go to the trouble of making me a coffin and burying me in the earth, only to be eaten by ants and mole crickets underground? This foul body is in any case doomed to be devoured by ants or vultures; why favor the ants over the vultures?

Their open-minded attitude toward death both appeal to me, and that is how I see death too. Lu You said that in death one knows all is empty, and I agree, but I am not like him in forever ‘mourning that the nine provinces are not united.’ I do not have such grand ambitions, nor do I think the unification of the nine provinces is such a wonderful thing; reading Lu You's poetry, I always suspect he had depression. I am just a doctor. I have already signed a body-donation directive: when I die, this foul body goes to a medical research institution, to use as they please—as long as it is put to good use and not wasted.

Only by fearing death not at all can we enjoy the joys of life to the fullest. If one fears death every day, one inevitably lives in constant dread. The Japanese centenarian physician Shigeaki Hinohara, in his posthumous work Ikikata (Living Well), expressed his attitude: ready to die at any time, yet striving to survive at every step. I love this attitude toward life and death. Having no fear of death does not mean seeking death like a reckless fool; we need not fear death, but we must also love life—live on as long as we can. Avoid every risk that could end our lives as much as possible; live one more day for each day we can, and when living is no longer possible, let go calmly at any time.

Buddhism often says, “Birth and death are great matters; impermanence comes swiftly.” Impermanence means the unexpected; no one can foresee what accidents will befall them in a lifetime. Especially in an age of excessive population density, dirty politics worldwide, and rampant plagues and natural and man-made disasters, impermanence is all the more common. So for anyone, death can come at any time—whether or not one now has an incurable disease, and whether one is young or old.

The Dutch brain scientist Dick Swaab says human lifespan depends to a large extent on the brain; people with a normally and fully developed brain live longer than those whose brain development is abnormal or less advanced. He even put forward an interesting view: he believes physical exercise does not make people live longer, but exercising the brain does, and it improves quality of life and makes people happier. I largely agree with him, but I have no intention of being misled into giving up physical exercise.

We often say that people like Tao Yuanming and Zhuangzi are open-minded; in the eyes of brain scientists, both were people with relatively well-developed brains and mature minds. Of course, brain scientists would note that a man like Tao Yuanming, addicted to wine, exhibits addictive behavior and that certain parts of his brain sustained some damage—not that his whole brain was intact.

Zhuangzi and Tao Yuanming were indeed men who loved to use their minds; few people through history have commanded their native tongue to the degree they did, and this skill was forged through constant reading and reflection. They loved the extreme sports of the mind and liked to ponder questions ordinary people rarely consider. Thinking more developed their brains, broadened their hearts, and gradually freed them from the fear of death—after all, death is merely an inescapable law of nature that no one can avoid, our final resting place; what is there to fear? And what is there to grieve when a loved one dies? To sing a song before the grave of someone you loved, recalling the happy days when they were alive, and smile—that is better than wailing.

So only by overcoming fear and grief can we avoid being destroyed by them. It is right to be cautious and on guard, right to care for one another, and right to live well; but there is simply no need to fear death.