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On a trip to Thimphu, the capital of the Kingdom of Bhutan, I happened to sit across from a man called Karma Ora, to empty my sleeve in front of him. Perhaps because his name meant “emptiness” in the local language, or perhaps it was travel that made my heart turbulent. But I decided to confess something very personal. It wasn’t that long ago, but it happened suddenly. I felt uncomfortable symptoms; Shortness of breath, dizziness in the head, and numbness in the hands and feet. At first, I feared that I was having a heart attack, or that I was going crazy, so I consulted a doctor who ran some tests, and he told me: “Nothing.” That doctor, “Aura,” said it even before I had time to finish what I wanted to say. He knew that my fears were misplaced. I was not facing my death, at least not as quickly as I feared. I was having a panic attack.
🇧🇹See school girls in Bhutan in their traditional clothes
All I wanted to know was, why did this happen now, my life was so uncharacteristically good. What can I do about it? Ora answered me: “You should think about death for five minutes, every day, that will cure you.” I was shocked, and said: “And how?” He replied: “It is that thing. It is the fear of death, the fear that we will die before we achieve what we want, or see our children grow up. That is what concerns you and worries you.” My response was: “But why would I want to think about something so depressing?”
Thimphu, the capital of the Kingdom of Bhutan, replied: “The rich in the West did not touch corpses, bleeding wounds, or rotting things. Here lies the problem. This is the human condition. We must be prepared for the moment we cease to exist.” Places too, like people, have a way of astonishing us, provided that we are prepared for the possibility of being astonished, rather than burdened by preconceived notions about those places. The Kingdom of Bhutan, or the Himalayan Kingdom as it is called, is known for its innovative policy of Gross Domestic Happiness (similar to Gross Domestic Product), a land where contentment is supposed to prevail and sadness is forbidden. The Kingdom of Bhutan is truly an exceptional country (and so is Mr. Ora, Director of the Center for Bhutan Studies, an exceptional person). However, this privacy has a slight difference, as the city we overlook is frankly less bright than our perception of the fictional city of Shangri-La. In fact, when Dr. Ora advised me to contemplate death once a day, he was complimenting me that, in the culture of Bhutan society, one is expected to contemplate death five times a day. This is remarkable for any people, especially those who are closely associated with happiness. Like the citizens of Bhutan, does it, in secret, represent the land of darkness and despair? Not so. Recent research suggests that Bhutanese, by contemplating death so often, may be onto something. In a study conducted in 2007, two psychologists from the University of Kentucky in the United States of America, Nathan Deol and Roy Baumeister, divided dozens of students in Bhutan into two groups.
Members of one group were asked to think about the pain they experienced when seeing a dentist, while members of the second group were instructed to think about the way they would die. Then the members of both groups were asked to complete the rest of the words, such as “fer–.” Members of the second group, which thought about death, were more likely to use positive words and meanings, such as “joy.” This is what led the researchers to conclude that “death psychologically embodies a reality that threatens survival, but when people think about it carefully, the automatic system of the human mind seems to begin to search for other pleasant thoughts.” I’m sure such information would astonish Dr. Ora, or any other Bhutanese. They realize that death is an integral part of life, whether we like it or not. Realizing this basic truth is psychologically expensive, and there are those who realize the meaning of this as well. “I realized that thinking about death doesn’t make me depressed,” Linda Leeming, author of the wonderful A Field Guide to Happiness: What I Learned in Bhutan About Life, Love, and Awakening, wrote in her book: “It makes me seize every opportunity, and see things I wouldn’t normally see.” My best advice is: travel there, contemplate something unthinkable, that terrifies you several times a day.” Unlike many in the West, Bhutanese are not averse to death. Death – and its images and shapes – appear everywhere there, especially in the manufacture of Buddha statues, where you will find horrific colors and decorations. No one, not even children, stays away from these images and shapes, or from the ritual dances that embody death.
Following the death of a person, there is a 49-day mourning period that includes elaborate and carefully arranged rituals. “It is better than any treatment for depression,” Tsewang Dindup, a Bhutanese actor, told me. Perhaps the Bhutanese will seem isolated during this period of mourning. However, this is not the case. They perform rituals of grief and grief. Why such a different attitude towards death? One of the reasons Bhutanese often think about death is that it is all around them. For a small people, death comes to them in many ways. You may meet your death on their twisted and deceitful ways, perhaps a bear will attack you; Or eat a poisonous mushroom plant; Or you may die of cold. Another explanation is the deeply held Buddhist beliefs throughout the country, especially their belief in reincarnation (or the return of the soul into another body according to Buddhist beliefs). If you believe that you will be resurrected to have another chance at life, you will be less likely to be terrified by the end of the life you are living now. As the Buddhists say, you should not fear death any more than you fear throwing away your rags. This does not mean, of course, that Bhutanese do not experience feelings of dread or sorrow, of course they do, but as Liming tells me, they do not escape these emotions.
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