Jara Sutta Old Age
	How short this life! You die this side of 100 years, but even if you live past, you die of old age. People grieve for what they see as mine, for nothing possessed is constant, nothing is constantly possessed. Seeing this separation simply as it is, one should not live the household life. At death a person abandons what he construes as mine. Realizing this, the wise should not incline to be devoted to mine. Just as a man doesn't see, on awakening, what he met in a dream, even so he doesn't see, when they are dead -- their time done -- those he held dear. Even when they are seen and heard, people are called by this or that name, but only the name remains to be pointed to when they are dead. Grief, lamentation, and avarice are not let go by those greedy for mine, so sages letting go of possessions, seeing the Secure, go wandering forth. Of a monk, living withdrawn, enjoying a dwelling secluded: they say it's congenial that he not, in any realm, display self. Everywhere the sage independent holds nothing dear or un-dear. In him lamentation and selfishness, like water on a white lotus, do not adhere. As a water bead on a lotus leaf, as water on a red lily, does not adhere, so the sage does not adhere to the seen, the heard, or the sensed; for, cleansed, he does not construe by means of the seen, the heard, or the sensed. In no other way does he ask for purity, for neither impassioned nor dis-passioned is he.