Switching between recollection of death and the brahmaviharas is an interesting way to go through the day and, strangely enough, very complimentary. Walking down the street, repeating the parikamma “None of us will escape death” as my gaze falls upon different people is both chattering and, when seen with the eye of compassion, creates an almost filial bond of sympathy.
We know that we all must die, it is only the hour that is uncertain. May we treat one another with kindness and never forget how close each one is to death.
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