Marpa Lotsawa’s statement, “My religion is to live and die without regret,” points to a vision of spiritual life in which practice and daily existence are completely inseparable. “Religion” here does not primarily denote ritual or institutional affiliation, but the manner in which one lives from moment to moment. To live without regret means to shape one’s conduct in accordance with Dharma—truth, compassion, and wisdom—so that nothing essential is left undone. In this sense, the authenticity of one’s path is measured not by outward observances, but by whether one can face death without the inner sting of having neglected what truly mattered.

This perspective implies a life of full responsibility and wholehearted commitment to the path. Regret arises when spiritual practice is postponed, when one clings to impermanent pleasures, or when ethical responsibilities are evaded. To live without regret, therefore, is to engage diligently in practice, to act from genuine spiritual motivation rather than social convention, and to accept the consequences of one’s choices without self-deception. Such a life integrates worldly roles—family, work, relationships—with continuous inner cultivation, so that nothing is split off as “merely secular” or “outside” the Dharma.

The phrase also gestures toward a mind trained to meet death with clarity, confidence, and freedom from fear. In the Tibetan Buddhist understanding, dying without regret indicates that one has prepared inwardly: karmic responsibilities have been faced, necessary practices have been undertaken, and one’s capacities for wisdom and compassion have been developed as far as possible. At that point, both positive and negative experiences are recognized as part of the path, and there is no need to cling to outcomes or rewrite the past. The transition of death can then be approached as the natural culmination of a life lived in alignment with one’s deepest understanding.

Finally, the quote reflects a tantric sensibility in which samsara and nirvana are not two separate domains, but different ways of relating to the same life-stream. Marpa, as a lay yogi, embodied the view that farming, family life, teaching, and spiritual discipline can all become vehicles of realization when embraced with awareness. To “live and die without regret” is thus not a call to perfectionism, but to a radical integrity: a life so ethically grounded, so thoroughly suffused with practice, that at the final moment there is no sense of having betrayed one’s own heart or squandered the opportunity of this human existence.