Any body is a Dying Bag of Bones!
All formations, all
constructions, mental as physical, are truly transient...
It is their nature to arise and cease right there, where they arose...
Having arisen these captivating
discrete mental states instantly pass away!
The calming, stilling & ceasing of these momentary appearances is happiness.
Therefore: Even in the present every being dies millions of times per
So also will they die in any possible future. So have they always died...
In the same way then: I shall surely die! There is no doubt in me about
Uncertain is life, but certain is death. I shall surely die. Death will be
termination of my life. Life is very insecure, but death is sure,
death is certain!
Not long, alas! This my beloved puppet-like body will lie
as frozen upon the
Rejected, void of consciousness, disgusting, and as useless as a rotten log
This very body, from the
skin soles of the feet up to the crown of the head,
is a just a bag of bones surrounded by skin, full of various mean
Hair of the head, hair of the body, nails, teeth, skin, flesh, sinews,
marrow, kidneys, heart, liver, membranes, spleen, lungs, bowel, intestines,
slime, excrement, brain, bile, lymph, pus, blood, sweat, fat, tears,
spit, snot, joint-fluid, and stinking urine... Just a bag of bones, flesh and skin,
heap of Suffering...
Keeping this precious and very
realistic imagery in mind, will then gradually
reduce and weaken these violent lusts, voracious greeds and uncontrollable
wanton desires, that attract beings into self-destructive forms of suffering
such as: Porno-mania, pedophilia, HIV-transmitting sexuality, over-eating,
abuse of drugs, alcohol, and pills, all addictions to the manifold and
forms, feelings, perceptions, mental constructions and variants of (doped)
consciousness... All this - though fascinating - remains just
an ensnaring and
enthralling Suffering (Dukkha),
disguised as pleasure and satisfaction....
More on this
Buddhist ultra-realism regarding the Death of the Body:
JUST A FORM OF FRAME
This body is always worn out, a fragile form, a nest of disease,
a rotting mass of deception, since its life surely and always
ends in Decay and Death ...
Background Story 148
A BAG OF BONES
Like withered leaves scattered by the autumn wind
are these pale and whitened bones. What happiness
can there ever be in them?
Background Story 149
MY PRECIOUS AND ADORED BODY!
It is a bag held up by bones, plastered with skin,
full of blood and flesh. In it lives only ageing, sickness,
death, pride and petty self-deceit...
Background Story 150
Wheel no 54 (Edited
The Mirror of the Dhamma. A Manual of
By Nārada Thera and Bhikkhu Kassapa. Revised By Bhikkhu