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From the Buddhist point of view, the body, being merely a collection of five aggregates ( form, feelings, perceptions, karmic formations, and consciousness ) has no usefulness after death. Theravada followers tended to emphasize this point of the teachings. They told me that at the time of death, the consciousness leaves the body and there is no harm in touching, washing, or cutting the body, since it is nothing but a heap of dead skin, bones, flesh, and other rotting ingredients. It seems to be the custom in Thailand, for example, to wash the dead person's body and dress it in fresh ( usually white ) clothes. Nevertheless, it also seems to be the custom to leave the body lying in state for a certain length of time, whether it be one, three, or eight days, depending on the country, the status of the person, and the wishes of the person's family.

Mahayana informants answering my query tended to emphasize the teaching on the precious human rebirth. Since a human rebirth is difficult to attain, easily perishable, and the most desirable state in which to make progress toward enlightenment, they saw donating bodily organs as an excellent way to contribute to human happiness. By donating a liver or kidney, we may extend another person's life and give the person a chance to practice Dharma and " take the essence " of the human opportunity. To put the welfare of another human being above one's own by giving away an organ would be the ultimate act of self-sacrifice and an excellent opportunity for practice.

Since the Mahayana path stresses the conjunction of wisdom and compassion as essential for attaining enlightenment, no chance for developing these two qualities should be missed. The bodhisattva ethic is to sacrifice oneself for others, including postponing one's own enlightenment for their sake. We find many examples of such heroism in the past lives of the Buddha when he was practicing on the paths and stages as a bodhisattva.

In the Jataka Tales , we read of him giving his eyes and his flesh. One of the most well-known instances was when he gave his body to the hungry tigress at the spot now called Namo Buddha in Nepal. We also find examples of self-sacrifice in the lives of the Buddhist saints. For example, we read the famous story of Asanga who cut flesh from his own thigh to entice maggots away from the vermin-infested body of a dying she-dog. By this act of great compassion he achieved the direct vision of Maitreya.12

In China, textual references to sacrificing the body were often taken literally. Occasionally a young monk would burn off a finger or two as and offering to the Buddhas and a symbol of his dedication to the welfare of sentient beings. Even today in Chinese Buddhist communities, sacrificing the body for the welfare of others is symbolically enacted by burning small cones of incense on the heads of bodhisattva candidates. After all, it is reasoned, if a person makes a commitment to descend to the lowest hells for eternity to benefit even one living creature, she should be willing to undergo a few minutes of discomfort on their account. Once in a while this custom even led to self-immolation. I remember seeing signs posted around a particularly tempting site at Pu-tou-shan, the sacred " Potala mountain " of Avalokitesvara 13 in China, that said " Please do not immolate yourself here " and " Sacrificing of fingers and other body parts forbidden. "

For the reasons explained in connection with the preciousness of the human rebirth, however, suicide is certainly not sanctioned in Buddhism. To take the life of any sentient being, especially a human being, including oneself, violates the cardinal principle of Buddhist ethics. While taking the life of sentient beings is prohibited, we nevertheless find numerous references in the Mahayana texts to giving up one's life for others. To sacrifice one's life with the bodhicitta motivation ( the wish to achieve enlightenment for the sake of others ) is particularly excellent. To make such a vow, however, one's resolve must be strong and unwavering. Otherwise, there is a danger of regretting one's decision at the crucial time -- the actual moment of death.

There is a story, for instance, of a raka, or wrathful being, who came to test a practitioner's resolve. When he asked for his eyes, the practitioner plucked them out without hesitation. When asked for his right arm, he sawed that off and offered it, too. When he offered it to the raka with his left hand, the only one he had left, however, the raka got offended.14 At this, the practitioner lost his temper, destroying all the merit of his virtuous deed of generosity. Thus, we see that the motivation behind our actions must be both positive and stable.

( In the Chöd practice of the Tibetans, we also find the symbolic offering of the body. This is a visualization practice which, though vivid and realistic, generally does not entail the actual giving of organs and limbs. This symbolic ritual of offering our body parts to others is regarded as a very effective means of cutting through mental defilements, especially attachment to our physical components. In addition, it is seen as an excellent method for cultivating the perfection of generosity. )

In the Tibetan tradition, particular attention is given to an awareness of death and impermanence. That " death is definite, but the time of death is indefinite " is repeatedly reaffirmed. Only one breath separates us from the next life. If we do not reflect on death in the morning, we will waste the day; if we do not reflect on death in the evening, we will waste the night. Attention is similarly given to the actual process of dying. As in other Buddhist traditions, the so-called " self " is considered merely a name given to the grouping of the five aggregates. At the time of death these aggregates dissolve without leaving a trace. Only the very subtle, momentary stream of consciousness, imbued with imprints of the actions we have created, " travels " from this life to the next.

The state of mind at the moment of death is therefore considered of crucial importance in determining the quality of the next life. For example, to die in an angry state of mind will lead to a hellish rebirth. Thus, we find manuals such as The Tibetan Book of the Dead ( Great Liberation through Hearing during the Intermediate State ) which help to direct the dying person's consciousness through the bardo, or intermediate state between this life and the next.

Such guidebooks describe in vivid detail the stages of dissolution of the mental and physical elements during the death process. By learning to recognize these stages, including the terrifying visions and bizarre experiences that might be encountered, we can train our minds intelligently and learn to die consciously. Unless we are mindful during this process and can skillfully control our minds, we will simply be " thrown " by our karma into the next state of rebirth which, judging from our present performance, is likely to be an unfortunate one.

The length of the bardo, or intermediate stage, varies depending upon the person and situation. It is said to last anywhere from an instant to a period of forty-nine days. In the case of a sudden accidental death, the elements are said to dissolve quickly, the consciousness leaving the body and taking another rebirth almost immediately. In the case of an ordinary person dying a natural death, the bardo experience lasts from one to three days on the average. Among Tibetans, surviving family members will normally request a divination to determine the appropriate time for performing the sky burial or cremation. This is to ensure that the person's consciousness has already departed from the body. The family will also seek advice as to what prayers should be said for the benefit of the deceased.

In the case of serious Dharma practitioners, the bardo may last longer, affording numerous possibilities for realization and even enlightenment. It is in this sense that life is seen as preparation for the moment of death. If one has practiced meditation well and purified the mind of defilements, the clear light nature of the mind and the emptiness of all phenomena may be recognized during this interim and the individual liberated from bondage within the cycle of existence.

During my twelve-year stay in the Tibetan community of Dharamsala, India, cases of practitioners remaining in a state of meditation for several days after their heartbeat and breathing had ceased were quite common. One such person, my Tibetan calligraphy teacher, was a monk of Nechung Monastery named Sonam. Friendly and easy-going, he appeared to be just an ordinary monk doing Dharma practice and strolling to the bazaar everyday. When he remained for three days in meditation after death, however, everyone realized that he had actually been a great practitioner. Another well-known example, of Gyalwa Karmapa remaining in meditation after clinical death in Mt. Zion Hospital in Illinois, has been medically documented. Another astonishing case was that of the senior tutor of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, Kyabje Ling Rinpoche. When he passed away in Dharamsala some years ago at the age of 82, he remained in meditative equipoise for thirteen full days, an event that was witnessed by countless people.