there's an ancient vedantic tale passed down from guru to chela, from generation to generation. i'll loosely translate it from the original sanskrit and put it into a more contemporary context. it goes something like this:
frank was fiercely attached to his cat. and so, when he went on a european holiday, he left his cat in the care of bob, his very best and most trusted friend. after a week or so he called and of course asked how his cat was doing. and bob blurted out: "i'm sorry but your cat's dead." frank was so devastated, so upset by the news that he couldn't even finish his holiday. he just turned around and went home.
once back at home frank confronted bob: "why did you just blurt such terrible news out like that? it was too harsh, too rough. you should've started by simply telling me, for example, that my cat's up on the roof and you're having trouble getting him down. then maybe a day or two later you could've mentioned that the cat fell off the roof and was at the vet's. only then, the next time, then you could've told me gently that the cat did not survive. that would've been better, a much easier and nicer way to break the news."
anyway, a year later frank decided to set out again on the same trip, this time to complete the journey since he didn't have any cat to worry about. nevertheless, around halfway through the trip he called bob and just asked how everything was back at home. and bob said: "your mother's up on the roof and i'm having trouble getting her down."
ok, so maybe it's not a story handed down from guru to chela throughout the ages, only my guru loved it. i don't know where he got it from, but he'd repeat it often and laugh each time. i honestly don't know what the moral of the story is or if there really is one. he seemed to think it was a clear indication of the illusory nature of our individual ego-consciousness. guruji would point out that frank was fine until he was told about the death of his beloved cat. in frank's mind his cat was very much still alive until he was made to believe otherwise.
somehow, guruji likened that story to how we're horrified of death simply because we've been made to believe in it. in reality, he'd insist, there's no death because there never has been any birth: only life, one all-permeating life. and, as much as i may struggle with the concept, i do love it. i only suggest that our enquiry into the source of life must necessarily continue. and of course while our investigation continues we must also do everything possible to keep our dear-ones off the roof.