There is something about death and dying that has a powerful draw.
It's certainly palpable. On the rare days that I venture into discussions anymore, I would passionately argue that it borders on tangible. It's all around us, meant for each of us, and indeed, for all our whimsical projects. And yet as topics for consideration go, it is so easily overlooked.
We're just so busy living, making things work, trying something different; reinventing the wheel in the hopes that the rust that has gathered won't matter in the long run. We take the idea of a "long run" for granted, because what other way is there to move forward? How does one not move forward? Is it even possible to stand still without the lurking guilt of stagnation, let alone to take a few steps backward merely to reassess your trajectory?
As a society, as a species, it is ingrained in our cores that we must strive to survive. Get ahead, because that's what we do. Outdo the other's accomplishments, but retain the human courtesy of respecting the other. So engrossed are we in this continuing human pursuit that we would float rudderless if forced to stand still and taking account of time.
The powerful draw of death and dying has much to do with how I understand life and living. Some days, I suspect I don't understand it very much. On all other days, I know I don't. It is a recurring theme in what I write publicly, and yet one that I have few illusions of "decoding".
The 'purpose of life' could consume many lifetimes spent in the cradles of literature, philosophy, metaphysics, and in the knowledge and instincts that govern the vocations of rabbis, sadhus, doctors and counselors. Quite the disbeliever, those are not lifetimes I believe I have the time for, or the time for. I excuse myself from the burden of plotting a blind, arrogant route through these disciplines.
In an uncharacteristic move, I open up to learning from man's follies instead of making experience my guru. I trust that those who have come and gone before me penned their thoughts on the matter - and of course they did, eloquently so. So I dip my toes in, test the waters a little. And within a few texts born of raw prose that is nothing short of a legacy, I come away having re-learnt that one truth:
I do believe there is a certain rhythm, a set of values each one of us unknowingly puts together over time, and that dictates how we execute the grand task of living. I would think that our personal philosophies of how we live are inextricably linked with how we would conceive dying, were the process to be laid out before each of us as the task of utmost priority, replete with a timeline and a plan of agenda. The connect is so simple and obvious that it amazes me how everyone doesn't bring it up right away. To be in death as you are in life.
Perhaps these values are only exposed in trying times, when there is more at stake than the forgettable priorities that make up the daily mess. Trying times that can befall you directly and indirectly. Perhaps it is only a matter of how hard you are hit. And how vulnerable you let yourself be to this impact has got to be a marker of how strong your core is.
'Survival of the fittest' is a difficult ideal to keep in sight if you no longer rank among the fit, in the conventional sense of the word.
It's certainly palpable. On the rare days that I venture into discussions anymore, I would passionately argue that it borders on tangible. It's all around us, meant for each of us, and indeed, for all our whimsical projects. And yet as topics for consideration go, it is so easily overlooked.
We're just so busy living, making things work, trying something different; reinventing the wheel in the hopes that the rust that has gathered won't matter in the long run. We take the idea of a "long run" for granted, because what other way is there to move forward? How does one not move forward? Is it even possible to stand still without the lurking guilt of stagnation, let alone to take a few steps backward merely to reassess your trajectory?
As a society, as a species, it is ingrained in our cores that we must strive to survive. Get ahead, because that's what we do. Outdo the other's accomplishments, but retain the human courtesy of respecting the other. So engrossed are we in this continuing human pursuit that we would float rudderless if forced to stand still and taking account of time.
The powerful draw of death and dying has much to do with how I understand life and living. Some days, I suspect I don't understand it very much. On all other days, I know I don't. It is a recurring theme in what I write publicly, and yet one that I have few illusions of "decoding".
The 'purpose of life' could consume many lifetimes spent in the cradles of literature, philosophy, metaphysics, and in the knowledge and instincts that govern the vocations of rabbis, sadhus, doctors and counselors. Quite the disbeliever, those are not lifetimes I believe I have the time for, or the time for. I excuse myself from the burden of plotting a blind, arrogant route through these disciplines.
In an uncharacteristic move, I open up to learning from man's follies instead of making experience my guru. I trust that those who have come and gone before me penned their thoughts on the matter - and of course they did, eloquently so. So I dip my toes in, test the waters a little. And within a few texts born of raw prose that is nothing short of a legacy, I come away having re-learnt that one truth:
A little learning is a dangerous thing ; |
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring |
I do believe there is a certain rhythm, a set of values each one of us unknowingly puts together over time, and that dictates how we execute the grand task of living. I would think that our personal philosophies of how we live are inextricably linked with how we would conceive dying, were the process to be laid out before each of us as the task of utmost priority, replete with a timeline and a plan of agenda. The connect is so simple and obvious that it amazes me how everyone doesn't bring it up right away. To be in death as you are in life.
Perhaps these values are only exposed in trying times, when there is more at stake than the forgettable priorities that make up the daily mess. Trying times that can befall you directly and indirectly. Perhaps it is only a matter of how hard you are hit. And how vulnerable you let yourself be to this impact has got to be a marker of how strong your core is.
'Survival of the fittest' is a difficult ideal to keep in sight if you no longer rank among the fit, in the conventional sense of the word.
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