Understanding Death, Life, and the Nature of Existence

Let me share with you how I understand these profound questions about life and death—questions that trouble so many of us.

What Is Death, Really?

You know, people often ask me about death because they fear it. They want to know what to contemplate when death approaches. But I want you to think carefully: what does it mean to be alive, and what does it mean to die?

When you’re asleep, do you know you’re sleeping? No, you don’t know. Similarly, when you die, do you know you’ve died? No, you don’t know anymore. So there’s no need to fear death—when you die, you simply don’t know. You don’t know that you know. There’s nothing left to fear.

Right now, we fear death because we’re alive and thinking about it. But I want you to examine this more deeply. What does “ being alive” actually mean? We say someone is alive—but what is this “ life” we’re talking about? Is it some special kind of water flowing through us? *[laughs]*

Let me tell you something: modern science doesn’t actually know what life is. Science has no idea where life resides or what it truly is. Don’t place too much faith in scientific knowledge when it comes to these ultimate questions. Science doesn’t know life. Science doesn’t know death. What do doctors do? They check whether the heart is beating. They check whether you’re breathing. They shine a light in your eyes to see if the pupils react. If these three signs stop functioning, they declare you dead according to worldly standards. But do they really know you’re dead? No. If somehow you revive on your own, you simply come back to life. We just make a determination based on observable signs and say, “ This person is dead.”

The same applies to brain death. They examine the brain, run tests. When they write medical reports and find nothing significant, they write “ NSS” —no significant abnormality seen. But does that mean there’s nothing there? Something might exist, but their instruments simply didn’t detect it. You can’t sue them for missing it. I’m just pointing out how limited our conventional understanding really is.

The Nature of Being Alive

So what is being alive? Through the Buddha’s teachings, we understand that there are only three types of feeling (vedanā): pleasant feeling (sukha-vedanā), unpleasant feeling (dukkha-vedanā), and neutral feeling (upekkhā-vedanā). That’s all there is.

When we talk about emotions, what we’re really describing is how these feelings become entangled with defilements (kilesa). Emotion arises when feeling transforms into craving (taṇhā) and clinging (upādāna)—when it moves toward greed (lobha), hatred (dosa), and delusion (moha). Once you slip from pure feeling into the realm of defilements, emotions take over, and they become very difficult to control.

Let me give you a practical example. In English, you have this beautiful word: “ enjoy.” To enjoy something means to experience it with awareness, without clinging. When you eat and drink, you can enjoy the taste, the atmosphere, the pleasant weather, the good conversation with friends. You can enjoy all these pleasant feelings with mindfulness (sati). Mindfulness can accompany everything. But clinging (upādāna) cannot accompany everything in a wholesome way.

Clinging Versus Enjoying

What’s the difference? When you eat with clinging, you think, “ I must have this!” You taste it and immediately react: “ Oh, I love this! This is amazing!” Then, if you can’t have it again, you become angry and upset. That’s upādāna—that’s clinging, that’s attachment.

Compare this to how people in some Western countries approach drinking. When they drink socially or for health reasons in cold weather, they enjoy it. They don’t compete over how many glasses they can consume. They don’t get into fights. They maintain their intelligence (IQ) and mental composure. For us, it often becomes a competition—” How many cups can I drink?” —and we lose ourselves in clinging rather than simply enjoying the experience.

The word “ enjoy” is quite profound. It’s not the same as mere happiness. To enjoy something means to experience pleasant feelings with awareness, without letting craving and clinging take over. Those who can do this maintain their mental power and live well in the world, even if they haven’t reached the ultimate reality (sacca) that the Buddha taught.

Accepting What Cannot Be Changed

Here’s another important principle I teach: accepting reality as it is. Some people say they like rainy weather. Others prefer sunny weather. But I tell them: whether you like it or not, when it rains, it will rain. When the sun shines, it will shine. You cannot change it.

If all the conditions for rain are present, it will rain—you can do nothing about it. If all the conditions for heat are present, the sun will be hot—you can do nothing about it. This is the worldly view: “ I like this, I don’t like that.” But when you bring in the Dhamma perspective, you see that these are simply natural phenomena (dhamma-niyāma). We cannot change them.

So instead of saying “ I like rain” or “ I don’t like heat,” just accept it as nature. When you accept this, you find peace. Rain is nature. Heat is nature. Cool breezes are nature. Storms are nature. Darkness is nature. Light is nature. Once you truly understand this, you know how to respond skillfully. When it’s dark, you light a candle or turn on a lamp—solar, battery, generator, whatever you choose. That’s your choice, your capability. When it’s hot, you might use a fan or air conditioning. That’s your choice.

But don’t complain. That’s what I want to emphasize. Why not simply accept (in English: “ accept” ) what you cannot change? Remember this word: accept. We find it so difficult to accept. When it’s dark, we can’t accept it. When it’s hot, we can’t accept it. When it rains, we can’t accept it. This inability to accept is what causes our suffering.

The Mirror of Reality

Let me share something that helps people understand the present moment. I use the analogy of a mirror. When you look in a mirror, an image appears. That image is neither the mirror itself nor the person looking—it’s a third phenomenon that newly arises.

I call this “ paying attention to the third phenomenon.” For example, when your foot touches the floor, a sensation of touch arises. If your foot is “ one” and the floor is “ two,” then knowing that sensation of contact is “ three.” This third phenomenon is the present moment.

When I clap my hands, the sound cannot come out earlier or later. The arising of this sound when the hands meet is precisely the present moment. We’ve heard sounds before. We’ve clapped before. But we haven’t truly recognized that the sound of clapping IS the present moment. It hasn’t been clear in our understanding.

Living With Dhamma Background

So what changes when you have Dhamma understanding as your background? Whether it rains or the sun shines, you see it as nature (dhamma). You cannot change it, so you don’t waste energy saying “ I like this” or “ I don’t like that.” Instead, you simply consider: “ When it rains, how should I respond? When it’s hot, how should I respond?” Suddenly, you have the answer. You accept rain as nature. You accept heat as nature. You accept cool weather as nature. You accept storms as nature.

You’re no longer creating problems for yourself. Rain is nature. Heat is nature. Darkness is nature. Light is nature. Once you know this, you respond appropriately: when it’s dark, you light a lamp. When it’s hot, you find shade or use cooling methods. That’s your choice, your capability.

The key teaching here is: stop complaining. Accept what you cannot change. This is how the Buddha’s teachings transform our daily experience. When you truly understand impermanence (anicca), suffering (dukkha), and non-self (anattā), you see that everything is simply mind-and-matter (nāma-rūpa) arising and passing away according to conditions.

With this understanding, you can enjoy the pleasant experiences that come your way—good food, pleasant weather, kind friends—without clinging to them. You can live skillfully in the world, responding appropriately to whatever conditions arise, without creating unnecessary suffering through resistance and complaint.

This is what I mean when I say: understand the Dhamma, accept reality, and live with wisdom.

Dr. Soe Lwin (Mandalay)