80 years, 1 sheet of paper
On the flight home to Denver from Houston yesterday I watched an episode of This American Life by Ira Glass. The film tracks the lives of seven men who share something: a name. They were all named John Smith.
I've never cried so much in-flight. Ira Glass is a formidable storyteller. There is nothing fancy about the story. It was, as usual, how Glass allowed the storytellers to share a glimpse into their lives. It reminded me of the story of the Buddha and the mustard seed. The story goes that a woman visits the Buddha one morning with a tale of deep sadness after watching her son die. He tells her he wants to help her but first she should go back to the village and knock on the doors of all the villagers. She is to find a family that hasn't experienced suffering and ask them to give her a mustard seed.
That evening, when she comes back to see the Buddha the woman tells him she went from door to door until the sun set. At every house she found tales of suffering and sadness. She didn't have a mustard seed but she had discovered the answer to the question she asked that morning. We all suffer.
"It's hard to fit 80 years of life onto one sheet of paper," says the son of the eldest John Smith shortly after his death. He is writing his father's eulogy. Reflecting, simultaneously, on his own mortality.
Although I didn't prepare a eulogy for my mom, it was on the agenda for me to sing at her funeral. At the time I was active in the church choir and was frequently asked to sing solos (I would later use this gift to sing karaoke and entertain crowds at dive bars). I was going to sing a solo at my mom's funeral but my grandmother and I decided it would be too emotional.
This morning the New York Times ran a story that the world's oldest person, Gertrude Baines, died at age 115. Today is also the eighth anniversary of the September 11 attacks. So much suffering.
Yet. I had a moment on the plane yesterday in which it clicked for me. Knowing we will die compels us to do something today with our lives. Without the bookend of death we would forget what compels us to live.
At the airport yesterday I picked up a copy of this month's Yoga Journal. I bought it for one reason. An article, "The Art of Staying Young," profiles yogis and yoginis who have had "at least 58 birthdays." In the article (worth buying for just that article, really), Patricia Walden (the 62 year old yogini pictured above) says, "When I was younger, I would think, 'When X happens, I'll be happy.' When, when, when. At a certain stage in practice, you see that you can't base your life on contingencies. Things can change at any moment. Why not be happy now?"
Things can change at any moment. Why not be happy now?
Friday, September 11, 2009
Reader Comments (6)
This seriously challenges me all the time - live for the now - be happy now. I recently realized that I am a total "when, when, when" person. So, in response, I've decided to make my own happy. I'm creating it - step by step - and I'm discovering that I'm happier just for being involved in the process.
Inspiring post, Gwen! And good luck getting into the pose - I think I could do yoga for 100 years and never hit that one. ; )
That is SO inspiring, and so perfectly timed right now. Thanks so much for your insight, and I can't wait to grab a copy of that article.
Fantastic post! I love that you choose to look to the light and think that is why you have such a radiant spirit. This reminds me of two quotes:
One from my mother, "I choose joy" which is basically her life motto (if she had something like a life motto.)
The other is "In my suffering, I found my purpose" from a Holocaust survivor who spoke at both the junior high I attended and then later at the middle school where I was teaching. In relating his horrific, heartbreaking experiences in concentration camps in which he lost his entire family, he was surprisingly without bitterness or rancor. Kids were fascinated by how he could relate his story over and over again without anger. He said that he wanted his life to mean something - to be about more than his suffering, and to use it to defeat the evil that exists in the world. His name was Mike Jacobs and though I only met him twice, I'll never forget him.
AMEN! What a beautiful post. Might sound morbid, but I think about death quite a bit. The finality of it is really sobering. It propels me into action (almost) daily. I'm sitting here listening to Gospel on a Sunday morning, reaching out for inspiration. I've had you're blog up for weeks now. I click today and read this post.
Why NOT be happy now? A simple and profound question.
Great post. I have two somewhat conflicting thoughts on this. One..yes...be happy now. If not happy, be joyful...they are not the same thing. Joy for me is the steadfast knowledge that God is in control. I am not a when, when, when person...I am so blessed by that. My life lately is considerably short on suffering...not that I haven't suffered a great deal in my past, but I am able to move on productively from that pretty quickly. My other thought though, is that it is not all about today, about being happy in the moment. Sometimes the whole Live for Today thing can hurt people who refuse to think at all about the consequences of tomorrow. And so there is balance. Llive for today AND plan for tomorrow :)
This is so lovely and so right on. Fantastic post. Thank you.