Getting older
One evening, as the Buddha sat with his back to the setting sun, Ānanda said aloud what was plain: his skin had lost its glow, his limbs had gone slack and lined, and he was bent. The Buddha agreed, and added that youth gives way to age and health to sickness. The canon asks everyone, lay or ordained, to reflect often that they too will age, so that it is familiar when it comes, and it gives a king the image of mountains closing in from every side with the question of what is worth doing now. The suttas do not say that aging is unimportant or that grieving what it takes is a mistake. They say it happens to everyone, the Buddha included. If a particular change frightens you, such as a new pain, a fall or a lapse of memory, your doctor is the person to tell: they can tell you what it is and what can be done.
What the suttas say
Then in the late afternoon, the Buddha came out of retreat and sat warming his back in the last rays of the sun. Then Venerable Ānanda went up to the Buddha, bowed, and while massaging the Buddha’s limbs he said: “It’s incredible, sir, it’s amazing, how the complexion of your skin is no longer pure and bright. Your limbs are flaccid and wrinkled, and your body is stooped. And it’s apparent that there has been a deterioration in your faculties of eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body.” “That’s how it is, Ānanda. When young you’re liable to grow old; when healthy you’re liable to get sick; and when alive you’re liable to die. The complexion of the skin is no longer pure and bright. The limbs are flaccid and wrinkled, and the body is stooped. And it’s apparent that there has been a deterioration in the faculties of eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body.”
The Buddha's own old age, noticed by Ānanda while massaging his limbs and admitted plainly, without consolation.
Where this stops: The verse that follows curses old age; cite the prose, which states the facts plainly, and do not offer it as reassurance.
SN 48.41:1.3–3.4 · Old Age
Tena kho pana samayena bhagavā sāyanhasamayaṁ paṭisallānā vuṭṭhito pacchātape nisinno hoti piṭṭhiṁ otāpayamāno. Atha kho āyasmā ānando yena bhagavā tenupasaṅkami; upasaṅkamitvā bhagavantaṁ abhivādetvā bhagavato gattāni pāṇinā anomajjanto bhagavantaṁ etadavoca: “acchariyaṁ, bhante, abbhutaṁ, bhante. Na cevaṁ dāni, bhante, bhagavato tāva parisuddho chavivaṇṇo pariyodāto, sithilāni ca gattāni sabbāni valiyajātāni, purato pabbhāro ca kāyo, dissati ca indriyānaṁ aññathattaṁ— cakkhundriyassa sotindriyassa ghānindriyassa jivhindriyassa kāyindriyassā”ti. “Evañhetaṁ, ānanda, hoti— jarādhammo yobbaññe, byādhidhammo ārogye, maraṇadhammo jīvite. Na ceva tāva parisuddho hoti chavivaṇṇo pariyodāto, sithilāni ca honti gattāni sabbāni valiyajātāni, purato pabbhāro ca kāyo, dissati ca indriyānaṁ aññathattaṁ— cakkhundriyassa sotindriyassa ghānindriyassa jivhindriyassa kāyindriyassā”ti.
Mendicants, a woman or a man, a layperson or a renunciate should often review these five subjects. What five? ‘I am liable to grow old, I am not exempt from old age.’ A woman or a man, a layperson or a renunciate should often review this. ‘I am liable to get sick, I am not exempt from sickness.’ … ‘I am liable to die, I am not exempt from death.’ … ‘I must be parted and separated from all I hold dear and beloved.’ … ‘I am the owner of my deeds 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.’ A woman or a man, a layperson or a renunciate should often review this.
The reflection the Buddha asked everyone, monastic or lay, to make often.
Where this stops: Never preached at someone frightened or grieving; owning one's deeds is never a reason to call an illness or a loss someone's kamma.
AN 5.57:1.1–1.9 · Subjects for Regular Reviewing
Pañcimāni, bhikkhave, ṭhānāni abhiṇhaṁ paccavekkhitabbāni itthiyā vā purisena vā gahaṭṭhena vā pabbajitena vā. Katamāni pañca? ‘Jarādhammomhi, jaraṁ anatīto’ti abhiṇhaṁ paccavekkhitabbaṁ itthiyā vā purisena vā gahaṭṭhena vā pabbajitena vā. ‘Byādhidhammomhi, byādhiṁ anatīto’ti abhiṇhaṁ paccavekkhitabbaṁ itthiyā vā purisena vā gahaṭṭhena vā pabbajitena vā. ‘Maraṇadhammomhi, maraṇaṁ anatīto’ti abhiṇhaṁ paccavekkhitabbaṁ itthiyā vā purisena vā gahaṭṭhena vā pabbajitena vā. ‘Sabbehi me piyehi manāpehi nānābhāvo vinābhāvo’ti abhiṇhaṁ paccavekkhitabbaṁ itthiyā vā purisena vā gahaṭṭhena vā pabbajitena vā. ‘Kammassakomhi, kammadāyādo kammayoni kammabandhu kammapaṭisaraṇo. Yaṁ kammaṁ karissāmi—kalyāṇaṁ vā pāpakaṁ vā— tassa dāyādo bhavissāmī’ti abhiṇhaṁ paccavekkhitabbaṁ itthiyā vā purisena vā gahaṭṭhena vā pabbajitena vā.
I’m now old, elderly and senior. I’m advanced in years and have reached the final stage of life. I’m currently eighty years old. Just as a decrepit old cart is kept going by a rope, in the same way, the Realized One’s body is kept going as if by a rope.
The Buddha on his own body at eighty, in the plainest image the canon has — an old cart held together with rope.
Where this stops: Spoken near the end of his life, and followed by a description of a meditation that eases his body; it is a statement of fact, not a model for how anyone should feel about their own aging.
DN 16:2.25.9–2.25.12 · The Great Discourse on the Buddha’s Extinguishment
Ahaṁ kho panānanda, etarahi jiṇṇo vuddho mahallako addhagato vayo anuppatto. Āsītiko me vayo vattati. Seyyathāpi, ānanda, jajjarasakaṭaṁ veṭhamissakena yāpeti; evameva kho, ānanda, veṭhamissakena maññe tathāgatassa kāyo yāpeti.
But some of those liable to death are not frightened and terrified of death. Who are those frightened of death? It’s someone who isn’t free of greed, desire, fondness, thirst, passion, and craving for sensual pleasures.
Four reasons people fear death — craving for pleasures, for the body, having done harm, and doubt — which makes fear legible rather than shameful.
Where this stops: This is an analysis, not a reassurance; the fourth cause (doubt about the teaching) should not be used to pressure belief.
AN 4.184:2.4–3.2 · Fearless
atthi pana, brāhmaṇa, maraṇadhammo samāno na bhāyati, na santāsaṁ āpajjati maraṇassa. Katamo ca, brāhmaṇa, maraṇadhammo samāno bhāyati, santāsaṁ āpajjati maraṇassa? Idha, brāhmaṇa, ekacco kāmesu avītarāgo hoti avigatacchando avigatapemo avigatapipāso avigatapariḷāho avigatataṇho.
Suppose there were vast mountains of solid rock pressing against the sky drawing in from all sides and crushing the four quarters. So too old age and death advance upon all living creatures— aristocrats, brahmins, peasants, menials, corpse-workers, and scavengers. They spare nothing. They crush all beneath them.
King Pasenadi and the mountain simile — what is worth doing when death is certain.
Where this stops: Not to be preached at someone frightened or newly diagnosed.
SN 3.25:6.1–7.6 · The Simile of the Mountain
Yathāpi selā vipulā, nabhaṁ āhacca pabbatā; Samantānupariyāyeyyuṁ, nippothento catuddisā. Evaṁ jarā ca maccu ca, adhivattanti pāṇine; Khattiye brāhmaṇe vesse, sudde caṇḍālapukkuse; Na kiñci parivajjeti, sabbamevābhimaddati.