Thus have I heard...

http://www.newsfinder.org/site/more/jivaka_kumarabhacca

Loading mentions Retweet

I was greeted with an email recently from an old philosophy professor bearing sad news. Another long-time professor of the department is dying of cancer. He and his wife had decided they would not pursue chemotherapy, choosing instead to remain active until it was no longer possible. To the man who had lead so many fine discussions about Aristotle's "Ethics," and so many completely confusing as shit discussions about Hegel, I felt compelled to answer. Consistent with my slacker philosophy major habits, I wrote it up at the last minute but a surprisingly lucid manifesto seemed to tumble out of it. Here it is:

********

"What would you most want to do before you die?"

As a twenty-three year old, I hear that question as, “So what do you want to do with your life?” It's not quite the same question but I think they are both asking how we respond to the calling to live a meaningful life. The difference is that they are usually asked at two very different ends of life, one nearer the beginning, one nearer the end.

Asking what you want to do with your life often comes with the notion that a life is some kind of uncarved marble block, waiting for imagination, sweat and blood to work it into a masterpiece of art. Confusion and indecision are the least I would expect from the college grad faced with that kind of expectation, especially since so many of them, by disposition or from a little nudge from a liberal arts education, truly want to lead lives that make a difference. With all that pressure though, it somehow seems like making the wrong choice is so much worse than making no choice at all, than waiting indefinitely to be sure. It’s as if taking a “regular” job amounts to surrendering, a kind of death in itself.

I thought for sure I would spend a lot more time in that limbo too, feeling at least as much dread over answering The Question as any of my peers. But somehow, after a year in a new city, having followed a girl (and no, that did not work out), going to massage school, and getting my taste of a “regular” job, I found myself committing to a path of learning more about health and healing.

Ah, it was all coming together. Of course my academic and personal obsessions would lead to this! At last, I had a purpose.

But wait, what if I don't become a healer? That was a question I asked myself recently, and at first, my answer was viceral fear - fear of losing such a compelling persona. After much questioning, I reaffirmed my wish to assist people in their pain, whether physical or otherwise, but also had to admit to myself that my private fantasies about being a healer were feeding the part of me that desires recognition, the part of me that believes my worth is defined by my accomplishments. And I think, this is the hidden, shadow side of the question “what do you want to do with your life?” – justify your existence to the world, and to yourself.

I understand the deep suffering that comes from believing that love and acceptance are so conditional. I notice this same mental self-violence in others as well, and my heart breaks for them. This is why I am coming to a place where I can no longer believe that there is ANY number of victories or accolades sufficient to declare a life well-lived. There will never be one last thing that I get done where I can say to myself, “well, that’s it. I knocked off everything on my list. I can die happy now.” You might find that kind of scene in a movie, but as far as real life goes, it's a terrible model.

In my brief two decades or so of life, I can claim pride in a few things, and of course there are many more things I hope to do. However, even now, I realize it’s not so much my “doings” that make me content so much as my how I am “being.” Investigating the nature of my mind, learning to connect more deeply to others, discovering more about the world I live in, these are the things that keep me satisfied and balanced. I may not have begun my career, or found true love, or started a family, but if I die tomorrow, I refuse to judge my life as being deficient or impoverished or that it was wasted without reaching such milestones. What a miserable existence that would be.

All of that said, I do wonder if I’m depriving myself of a powerful motivation if I diminish the drive to build monuments of greatness, if the scare of death and limited time aren’t right in my face. Yes, maybe I could use a bit of that kind of fire lit under my ass and perhaps I would achieve my goals faster, and with more flare to boot. But I somehow suspect that I would be making fear my master, and I simply can't stomach the thought. My wish is that whatever I do, I want to do it purely for its own sake. I want my accomplishments to be expressions of my health and vitality, and not my primal insecurities. True, the gleam of the Reaper's blade is still invisible to me, so this might all be a young man's existential tough talk. All the same, I think I'll just go on tending the soil of my being, trusting that my legacy will grow big and tall from there.

There is a great story I once heard about Alexander the Great and the philosopher Diogenes:

Diogenes asked Alexander what his plans were. Alexander answered that he planned to conquer and subjugate Greece. "Then what?" Diogenes asked. Alexander said that he planned to conquer and subjugate Asia Minor. "And then?" Alexander said that he planned to conquer and subjugate the world. Diogenes, who was not easily dissuaded from a line of inquiry, posed the question again: "And what next?" Alexander the Great told Diogenes that after he had finished conquering and subjugating, he planned to relax and enjoy himself. Diogenes responded, "Why not save yourself a lot of trouble by relaxing and enjoying yourself now?"

So for now, if there is anything I wish to accomplish before I die, it is to live every day like Diogenes. Seems like my best shot at not going out kicking and screaming.

June 3, 2009

Loading mentions Retweet