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Guided Meditation: The Buddha's Five Daily Recollections: Aging; Dharmette: The Buddha's Five Daily Recollections (1 of 5): Aging - Mei Elliott

The following talk was given by Mei Elliott at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on May 13, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Guided Meditation: The Buddha's Five Daily Recollections: Aging

Let's go ahead and get started. For those that I don't know, my name is Mei Elliott, and this week we'll be exploring the Buddha's Five Daily Recollections, sometimes called the Five Remembrances or Five Reflections. These are a series of reflections that the Buddha recommended we actively bring to mind daily.

When I learned that there was a practice that the Buddha actually recommended daily, it really caught my attention. I thought, "Oh, well, this must be important." However, when I learned what they were, I realized they weren't easy reflections. But I could see how tremendously beneficial they could be, and when I actually practiced them, that's what I found. Hopefully, you will think so as well.

Here are the five, and we'll start with the first one today:

1. I am subject to aging; I have not gone beyond aging.
2. I am subject to illness; I have not gone beyond illness.
3. I am subject to death; I have not gone beyond death.
4. I must be parted and separated from everyone and everything dear and agreeable to me.
5. I am the owner of my deeds and heir to my deeds. Deeds are my womb, my relative, my refuge. I shall be the heir of whatever deeds I do, whether good or bad.

We will do one each day, and during the meditation period, we'll actually practice with the remembrances. Today I'll provide a slightly longer pre-meditation intro just to share about how we'll actually practice with them.

We'll begin with some quiet breath meditation so that your minds can settle a bit and become a little more calm. Then I'll offer two ways to practice with the recollection.

We'll start by dropping the phrase into the meditation, kind of like dropping a pebble into a pond. Without conceptualizing a response, just see what naturally ripples through the mind and heart. That can be a complete practice in and of itself.

Just to offer you a variety of ways to practice with these teachings, we'll do a second method. During the second method, we'll actually do an engaged contemplation. A word on contemplation: in these sorts of meditations, we are intentionally inviting thinking to occur around a specific theme. But given that the mind can be very discursive—and one thought can easily lead to another—we're going to keep a short leash on the thinking. Keep that in mind as we do the contemplation, and I'll remind you of that during the meditation.

That might sound like a lot, but we'll keep it very simple, just these two different practices.

Returning to our phrase for today: I am subject to aging; I have not gone beyond aging. While we all know this, the purpose of this reflection is to help it sink more deeply into the heart, to help us realize it more fully. Let's see what happens during the meditation.

Go ahead and find your meditation posture, a position that allows you to be both alert and relaxed. Maybe begin by taking a few deep breaths.

Connect with your meditation anchor. That might be the breath, maybe listening to the soundscape, maybe a global sense of the body sitting or lying down in whatever posture you're in. Invite the mind to rest, to settle on your anchor.

We'll have some time in silence now just to land, to connect with the here and now, to settle.

If you notice that the mind is wandering, gently and kindly bring your attention back. You might slide your attention back to the anchor, especially if you're noticing that you're jerking or tugging the mind back to the present. Just a smooth, non-reactive slide back to the now.

We will shift now to introduce our contemplation. Just like dropping a pebble in a pond, we'll drop in our reflection, allowing the words to move through the mind, heart, and body, and seeing what ripples out. No effort to make anything happen or to squint or look too hard.

Here's the phrase, dropping this in: I am subject to aging. I have not gone beyond aging.

Just seeing what happens. Maybe nothing, maybe something.

I am subject to aging. I have not gone beyond aging.

Sometimes it is translated as old age: I am subject to old age. I have not gone beyond old age.

Take a minute or two to play with this on your own, at your own pace.

Maybe there are sensations in the body. Maybe certain thoughts come to mind. If they do, you can include them; you don't need to push them away. You can see what sorts of images or words arise in the mind. It's part of the ripple.

When you're ready, let go of the phrase and come back to your anchor. Allow the mind to collect and settle once again.

I will introduce our second form of contemplation. This will include a little more thinking. This is our engaged contemplation. We'll offer the phrase again, and this time with some questions to allow you to think about the phrase. See what comes up for you. I'll offer several questions, and you don't need to reflect on each one; just pick up whatever stands out to you.

I am subject to aging. I have not gone beyond aging.

How deeply do you know this? Do you know it conceptually only, or do you know it in your core?

When you visually see that aging is happening, how is it for you? Maybe wrinkling skin, sunspots, graying hair. Maybe a change in ability levels. How is that for you?

It might be thinking that arises out of these, of course, but don't forget to include the body. There may be some thoughts, and there may be physical sensations or emotions that arise. We're including it all.

When you feel aging in the body, how is that for you? Maybe less strength, less functionality.

Maybe memories come to mind. A tenderness in the heart. Just holding all of this with gentleness and kindness.

When you consider old age, is there fear? If so, what are you afraid of?

What are you looking forward to? What are you looking forward to as you age? Some of you, of course, may identify as already being in deep old age. We're all getting older. We're lucky. So as you get even older, is there anything you're afraid of or looking forward to?

Imagine yourself in your ideal old age. What does that look like? What does that feel like? Reflecting on this, what does it feel like in the body, your ideal old age?

Coming back to the breath, the body. Letting go of the inquiry. Settling back into silence.

If there's any tenderness in the heart, whatever may be reverberating from the contemplations, include those in these moments of silence together. Making space for them, holding them with kindness, compassion, and gentleness.

Knowing that all beings are subject to aging: May all beings be joyful and happy. May all beings be strong and healthy. May they be safe and protected. And may they live peaceful and at ease.

Thank you for your meditation.

Dharmette: The Buddha's Five Daily Recollections (1 of 5): Aging

Welcome back. For those who are just arriving, welcome to you. My name is Mei Elliott.

I'd like to start with a poem by Kay Ryan. It's called "The Niagara River."

As though the river were a floor, we position our table and chairs upon it, eat, and have conversation. As it moves along, we notice—as calmly as though dining room paintings were being replaced— the changing scenes along the shore. We do know, we do know this is the Niagara River, but it is hard to remember what that means.

So here we are, all floating down the Niagara River. We're all on this boat, calmly rearranging the furniture, watching the passing scenery. And as Kay Ryan wrote, we do know that we're all on the Niagara River, but it's hard to remember what that means.

It's hard for us to remember that as we live our lives, we're all making our way to Niagara Falls. We all have an expiration date; we just don't know what it is yet.

It's not news to any of you that there's aging, sickness, and death. And yet, we don't often live with this understanding. The Buddha provided us with a teaching so we could remember what's hard to remember. What he offered us are these five phrases, the Five Daily Recollections.

For those just tuning in, I'll share them again:

1. I am subject to aging; I have not gone beyond aging.
2. I am subject to illness; I have not gone beyond illness.
3. I am subject to death; I have not gone beyond death.
4. I must be parted and separated from everyone and everything dear and agreeable to me.
5. I am the owner of my deeds—sometimes translated as actions—and heir to my deeds. Deeds are my womb, my relative, and my refuge. I shall be the heir of whatever deeds I do, whether good or bad.

These are the five, and clearly, they're not easy reflections. We'll be talking about that over the next couple of days. These come from the Anguttara Nikaya 5.57, the Upajjhatthana Sutta¹, and they appear elsewhere in the suttas as well.

This first phrase today: I am subject to aging; I have not gone beyond aging.

We're all growing older, and yet we forget or actively deny aging. This is common—trying to look young forever with products and surgery and all number of things. I had an elderly aunt who was very into making herself look young, and she went to great lengths and great expense to do so. She wasn't married, and she was dating well into her 80s. When she'd go on a date and a man would ask her how old she was, she would say, "I'm closer to 60 than 50." She'd say this when she was in her 80s. Technically it was true—she was closer to 60 than 50—but it was also a little misleading.

People do all sorts of crazy things to keep aging away, and it makes sense because Western culture rejects aging. That further amplifies our tendency to forget. But something I find intriguing is that this tendency isn't just a present-moment phenomenon. 2,600 years ago, during the time of the Buddha, people were also forgetting. Forgetting that aging, sickness, and death are coming—that I am of the nature to grow old, to get sick, to die.

The Buddha must have realized that for most people, these truths had not fully penetrated the psyche. The conceptual mind knows this, but the heart doesn't. These phrases function to move these truths from the head to the heart. Through daily reflection, we can learn to live more in harmony with aging, not go to war with aging and these different experiences of life.

In a lot of ways, we might say this is an acceptance practice. We're coming to terms with the way things are, because so much of our suffering actually comes from being in contention with the way things are—with the way things have come to be. Part of learning to accept the truth of aging, sickness, death, and loss is a shift in our expectations such that we're no longer surprised when they come for us.

The former abbot at Green Gulch, Norman Fischer², used to say, "When firemen get to a fire, they don't scream, 'Oh my God, it's a fire!'" No, they've expected that's where they're going. Of course there's a fire there; no surprise. One way we suffer with aging, sickness, and death is that somehow we're surprised by it. It's like, "Oh no, what's happening? Something has gone terribly wrong."

Frank Ostaseski³, the co-founder of Zen Hospice, tells a story about a very elderly woman on her deathbed. I don't recall exactly, she could have been in her late 90s or 100, something like that. From her deathbed, she whispered, "Why me? Why me?"

How can we shift our expectations such that we don't take aging and death as a personal affront? On the contrary, when we age, things are actually going right. This is actually how it's supposed to happen, will happen, and has been happening since humans existed. One way these recollections function is that in remembering them daily, we become much less surprised, and with it, less fearful.

Charlotte Brontë wrote: "To see and know the worst is to take from Fear her main advantage."

When we've come to terms with the worst-case scenario—I am going to get old, I am going to get sick, I'm going to die, I'm going to lose everything I love—when we've come to terms with this, fear has lost its power over us in a lot of ways. And with it, of course, aversion has a whole lot less power over us because this practice invites acceptance.

At one point I was exploring this practice more rigorously, and I discovered a phone app called AgingBooth. You put a photo in, you press a button, and it will age you by about 40 years or so. Depending on how old you are—some of you are already in your elderly years and may not feel like you need any help visualizing what you'll look like in old age—but for those who don't look so old yet, this can be a striking experience. To face the reality of what's to come.

Remember, there's only one thing that can prevent aging, and that's death. So with this in mind, maybe we should be delighted to age? Of course, that's not the typical response.

By realizing these truths—aging, sickness, death, loss—one of the effects is that we actually can learn to live differently. How does remembering these things affect what you prioritize? How does it affect what you allow yourself to become entangled in or get upset over? Does it bring perspective? How would you spend your time if you really knew that death could happen at any moment? That you won't have your faculties forever? How does it impact your relationships, your willingness to forgive?

This is one of the fruits of this practice: it changes our priorities and it changes how we engage in the present moment.

Another function of this practice—the Buddha named a different function for each phrase—is that "I am of the nature to age" has the function of overcoming the conceit of youth. In other words, the sense of immortality. The sense that this energy, this vitality will be here forever. Instead, realizing that vitality is a temporary resource, can we appreciate any vitality that we currently have? Any vitality that remains?

As I mentioned earlier, as we do this practice, it can be difficult. I'm not sure these phrases can be treated lightly; on the contrary. Especially as they progress, they seem to get a little hard—one through the fourth—and get a little harder and a little harder as they go for people. Not for everyone.

With this in mind, please be gentle with yourself when engaging in this practice. "I am of the nature to age" may not push any buttons for you, but some of the next ones might. Please be gentle with yourselves. Titrate this practice little by little, in small ways. We really don't want to weaponize these phrases and use them in a way that takes us out of our bandwidth of tolerance or that provokes grief in any way that overwhelms our capacity to be mindful.

If difficult emotions do arise, you can just practice by recognizing them, allowing them, and remembering that these feelings are the same that move through all human hearts. This is the natural purification process that humans experience when they come to terms with these truths. Not my grief, but the great grief that belongs to no one and visits us all.

If it's supportive as you do these practices, you might close with some metta⁴ or self-compassion practice, something to soothe the heart if it's become agitated. Let's close together in that way.

May all beings be happy. May all beings be healthy. May all beings be safe. And may all beings be at ease.

Thank you so much for your kind attention today. It's so nice to be back with you, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Take care everyone.