Category Archives: age
As long as I can think back, there was only one subject I ever pursued – with persistent commitment. Yes, there were other pathways, but they were picking-daisies kinds, never holding my attention for long. Nothing could quench that quest not even family and children. While I had a fabulous go at it, I was running a comprehensive experiment to supply me with data about my one and only question: what is life?
There is a dilemma though: how can you objectively look at life, while you’re alive? Yet what other chance have I? Or rather has my mind?
To life itself my being alive or dead is a negligible factor; it’s my mind that is making the difference and wants to understand life.
Obviously, the experiment isn’t over until I take my last breath, but I can always give an update as to the progress…
So the latest update is:
There is no life except in the body. All reality is in the body. And when you consider that the body functions without the mind most of the time, then the notion that life is in the world must be a construct.
It seems to me that the mind notoriously disrespects the body and there for creates reasons of its own. Perhaps it’s merely oblivious, but the mind has the gift of focusing on what’s important.
When the body is healthy the mind isn’t aware of it, turning outward to the world.
Maintaining awareness of the body is living, and living well.
Nowadays we don’t know if what we teach today will take the learners through the next year.
Naturally, rather than learning stuff, people learn to learn. Hurray… finally…
If I were asked to give one single advice to posterity, I’d say: STRETCH.
My life has changed by keeping two 15 minute sessions a day of stretching every and any muscle I can think of. The well-being that flows through a stretched body is better than sex. I was talented at sex and had my share. But this is better.
In fact, I’ve come to think that rather than going down the psychosomatic lane, that is our soul affects the health of our body, why not just inverse the whole deal? Since our minds are sooo creative, it stands to reason that for every little physical ailment, it creates a mental equivalent, sort of like explanations for a certain feeling in a way that makes sense.
I may feel restricted, stifled, assaulted, apprehended, bound, withdrawn, feeble, unloved, neglected, and a whole slew of other things that I lack the nerve to list now. Obviously the mind picks scenarios from my environment to explain those feelings. We are so good at looking everywhere but inside. But then how come, when I stretch, all those scenarios don’t feel valid any longer? When on a cellular level, my body doesn’t get the scope of expansion it is capable of, why make up misery? Why not just STRETCH?
Can you get your nose to your knees? Well, that’s the scope of stretching in the average toddler body. No wonder we all are nostalgic about how things used to be better when we were young…
There is something embarrassing about growing older. You’ll notice that most older people get quieter and quieter.
The longer you live, the more you realise that our lives are governed by age-old forces, the accumulated legacy of our ancestors. As a final member in that chain reaching into the distant past, we stand in the duty of linking up to the next generation who think, of course, that their lives are unique and special.
I’ve come that road. In my young days I determined to live anew, find better solutions and improve on my forefathers and mothers. As we go on in time, we realise that this quest for uniqueness is the prerogative of every individual, that it is the most common process in life. In fact, it might be vital to human functionality. So as we get older (and know better), we simply shut up and let the young ones have their way. They may believe, as we once did, that passions and desires, ambitions and quests are theirs to realise.
There comes a time, for some sooner than later, when we all realise that we stand facelessly in a universal endeavor of which most of us can’t say what the outcome shall be. The first inkling of this underlying force comes to us, when we bury our first childhood dream, because it doesn’t serve us well. The first time we turn traitor on ourselves, that’s when we start growing up.
You’ll find older people growing quieter and quieter.
We all are damn new at living, at every age.