A note on Death
In my neighborhood in Chiang Mai, there were three funerals in the past three days. Over the last ten days, I’ve seen four dead butterflies — something that has never happened in my life. I spent much of December and January immersed in learning about death. I attended a course on Thanatology, spending eight hours a day for five days just talking about death, pretending to be dying, and contemplating the deaths of my loved ones. I finished reading The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying. At one point, I almost convinced my teacher to connect me with the Lord of Death, but thankfully, he changed his mind and said, “Maybe next year.”
Many people have asked me about my experience learning Thanatology. It took me some time to reflect on it. The course was gentle — much like the concept of ‘gentle dying.’ We covered all aspects of death in the living realm: organ donation, miscarriage, children’s deaths, preparing for funerals, the importance of having a body when dead, supporting the loved ones who remain, and the art of listening without judgment. These were practical preparations for death. I was deeply curious about the spiritual transition at death, but that wasn’t part of the course. As our teacher said, “I’ve never died, and no one dead comes back alive to talk about their experience. Anything beyond death is stories, beliefs, and concepts; they can’t be proven.”
Something felt missing for me after the course. While it opened and expanded my perspective, I craved more.
Since the spiritual aspect of death fascinates me most, I dove into The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying. There, I found exactly what I was seeking — or did I? The book explored the spiritual dimensions of death: transitioning each element at death, what happens after death, how to achieve a good reincarnation, how to ascend, how to follow the light of deities, the milestones after each seven-day interval of death, and the associated practices. It even explained how reincarnation works. I devoured the book in a week. But then I asked myself, “How much of this is truth?”
I don’t know. You don’t know. No one knows. In the end, my teacher was right: “These are just myths that can’t be proven.” So, what was I searching for?
There are, however, a few things I know for certain:
You deal with death by accepting it.
You need strong mental power to navigate the realm between death and reincarnation (lucid dreaming is excellent practice for this!).
Your life, death, and rebirth are governed by karma. There is no escaping it, so live a conscious life.
Death is not the end; it’s the beginning of transformation.
As things stand now, I hope to have many more conversations with people about death. There is still a calling for me to become a death doula. I don’t know how it will happen, but we’ll see what the universe has planned for me.
As for the dead butterflies… a wave of sadness washes over me when I think about them. Are they an omen, a sign of something? I don’t know. I just know that something is changing in the environment. The butterflies, the birds, the trees, the flowers — the collective nature is going through a significant shift. Hug a tree today if you can.
Alex
