Acceptance and the end of the world

Last night as I was lying in bed, I found my mind dancing through the past, revisiting incidents from different parts of my life.  Not the significant events, just moments from childhood, adolescence, young adulthood.  And suddenly I realized: I'm at the stage of life when I have more past than future.  I've been at this stage for a while, of course.  But it never quite came home until last night.  I understood it in one of those lights-turning-on sorts of insights.  And I don't find it distressing at all to think that quite a bit more than half my life is behind me.  In fact, I find I'm feeling quite calm about my approaching end of life, in this moment at least.  I certainly don't feel ready to check out, not yet.  But I also don't know how hard I want to fight to stay in this world.  Of course I don't want to leave Sweet Hubby, my friends and family.  There are plays I'd like to finish writing, states and countries I'd like to visit, and I'd like to keep learning, trying new things, meeting new people.  

But along with the acceptance of the coming of old age and eventual death has come the understanding that it's too late for the human race.  We were doomed, we doomed ourselves in fact, as soon as the Industrial Revolution happened.  We've been poisoning ourselves and the planet since, and it's clear we're not going to stop.

I say it's clear because I look at my own life, the way I live, the choices I do and don't make.  Supposedly I'm one of the smart, informed, educated people who understands the dangers of climate change and the role of humans in that change.  SH and I take the right actions of composting and recycling.  We bring our own doggy bag containers when we go out to eat.  I reuse plastic bags for as long as possible.  But I still use them.  There is plastic everywhere in our home.  We drive a hybrid, very fuel efficient.  But I still fly when I want to go somewhere farther from home.  Air travel is supposed to be one of the major causes of air pollution.  And what materials did it take to make my car and the billions of other fuel efficient cars on the road and how are those materials mined?  And the battery in the car is eventually going to go into landfill.  In fact, ultimately, everything is going to go into landfill.  As was said in a documentary, we throw things away, but there's no such place as 'away'.  Everything goes somewhere, and somewhere is either the land, the air, or the water.   Thwaites Glacier, also called the Doomsday glacier, is melting and will collapse.  It is inevitable now.  And I know it, and still, I continue to live the way I live.  So much easier than to make the drastic changes which every single person would have to make if the human race were truly to reverse or even slow the decline of our environment.

I know this must seem dire and depressing, but for some reason, I'm not depressed about it.  I accept that my end is coming and that the end is likely near for all of us humans.  Not for the planet, which will immediately begin to heal once we aren't around to frack and strip mine and pollute.  That's part of why I feel sort of sanguine about this all; the Earth is going to be fine, because the Earth has all the time in the Universe.  We humans, despite these great big brains and our wonderful, dangerous imaginations, despite our amazing technologies and industries, are primitive beings who are able either see trouble coming and just not do anything about it or simply don't/can't see it because we're so busy thinking about our little selves.  Just as I am.  And that's just how it is.

Reflections on death and stuff

About a week before Christmas, Sweet Hubby and I flew to Santa Barbara to say our final good-bye to Chris, my brother's wife.  She had been diagnosed with cancer five years ago and given a two year prognosis, and although she had beat the odds and lived several more mostly good years, it was clear that this was going to be her last.

Chris was someone who was able to talk openly about how she was feeling, what she was thinking about, how this journey has affected her sense of herself.  These last few years have been for her a process of letting go: letting go of things, of relationships, of long-held spiritual beliefs, of all kinds of attachments.  We had several conversations with her which lasted as long as her waning energy allowed.  Finally, it came time to say good-bye and walk out the door, knowing it was our last time to be with her.  I had to work on my own sense of attachment, my own hard, reluctant letting go of someone who has been a central figure in my life for about a quarter of a century.

I came away from that precious good-bye reflecting on how much I hold onto that is completely unnecessary.  Mostly I have reflected on the things, the stuff, that clutter my life.  I've got a huge box of photograph prints, for example.  I don't look at them, have no intention of organizing them into albums. Those who have to clean up after me, my nieces and nephews, aren't going to want any of them.  Why do I keep it all?

I will admit that a lot of what I've held onto, such as photos, journals and diaries, etc. I've kept because of the crazy notion that someday I will be famous enough that someone will want to write my biography and will need research materials.  Finally, at 73, I'm ready to give up on that fantasy.  Time to let go of these useless things.

Useless yes, but also precious in a certain way, because they are the evidence of the unfolding of my life, of my evolution as a person, of the experiences I've had.  But it's time for me to acknowledge that this evidence is precious only to me.  And so I avow here and now that one of the major projects for this new year will be to let go and let go and let go.  It's clear to me that I will not be diminished in any way by no longer having these boxes which give evidence of my life, because the evidence doesn't matter.   What matters has been, is being, the living of this life.  

Chris died the day after Christmas.  

The only god I could believe in

 A friend sent me this, and it's too good not to pass along:

When Einstein gave lectures at US universities, the questions students asked him most was: Do you believe in God?  And he always answered: I believe in the God of Spinoza.  (Baruch de Spinoza, Dutch philosopher)

According to Spinoza, God would say:

Stop praying.  I want you to go out into the world and enjoy your life.  I want you to sing, have fun and enjoy everything I've made for you.

Stop going into those dark, cold temples that you build yourself and saying they are my house.  My house is in the mountains, in the woods, rivers, lakes, beaches.  That's where I live and there I express my love for you.

Stop blaming me for your miserable life; I never told you there was anything wrong with you or that you were a sinner, or that your sexuality was a bad thing.  Sex is a gift I have given you and with which you can express your love, your ecstasy, your joy.  So don't blame me for everything that others made you believe.

Stop reading alleged sacred scriptures that have nothing to do with me.  If you can't read me in a sunrise, in a landscape, in the look of your friends, in your son's eyes - you will find me in no book!

Stop asking me "Will you tell me how to do my job?"  Stop being so scared of me.  I do not judge you or criticize you, nor get angry or bothered.  I am pure love.

Stop asking for forgiveness, there's nothing to forgive.  If I made you, I filled you with passions, limitations, pleasures, feelings, needs, inconsistencies, and best of all, free will.  Why would I blame you if you respond to something I put in you?  How could I punish you for being he way you are, if I'm the one who made you?  Do you think I could create a place to burn all my children who behave badly for the rest of eternity?  What kind of god would do that?

Respect your peers, and don't give what you don't want for yourself. All I ask is that you pay attention in your life - alertness is your guide.

My beloved, this life is not a test, not a step on the way, not a rehearsal, not a prelude to paradise.   This life is the only thing here and now - and it is all you need.

I have set you absolutely free, no prized or punishments, no sins or virtues, no one carries a marker, no one keeps a record.  You are absolutely free to create in your life.  It's you who creates heaven or hell.

Live as if there is nothing beyond this life, as if this is your only chance to enjoy, to love, to exist.  Then you will have enjoyed the opportunity I gave you.  And if there is an afterlife, rest assured that I won't ask if you behaved right or wrong, I'll ask, "Did you like it?  Did you have fun?  What did you enjoy the most:  What did you learn?"

Stop believing in me; believing is assuming, guessing,  imagining.  I don't want you to believe in me, I want you to believe in you.  I want you to feel me in your when you kiss your beloved, when you tuck in your little girl, when you caress your dog, when you bathe in the sea.

Stop praising me.  What kind of egomaniac God do you think I am?  I'm bored with being praised.  I'm tired of being thanked.  Feeling grateful?  Prove it by taking care of yourself, your health, your relationships, the world.  Express your joy!  That's the way to praise me.

Stop complicating things and repeating as a parrot what you've been taught about me.  Why do you need more miracles?  So many explanations?  The only thing for sure is that you are here, that you are alive, that the world is full of wonders.

The human mess

I was rather shocked recently to discover that I have become one of those people who have a lot of things wrong with them.  Shocked because I have always been (or thought of myself as) extraordinarily healthy and strong.

I've had well-behaved bunions on both feet for ever so long, but recently one of them has swelled to the point that it looks as though there is a marble under my skin.  It's pushing my toes out of alignment, causing painful calluses and corns to develop.  This is a problem because of how much I love to walk, which is now more challenging on some days.  I've got an appointment with a podiatrist in my calendar and am hoping for some relief, although I'm pretty certain I want to avoid surgery if at all possible.

A few weeks ago I discovered a hard, rough little bump on my forearm.  It didn't itch or hurt and was annoying mostly because of just being there.  Recently it began to look infected and to be painful whenever I would accidently bump against something.  Last week I went to my dermatologist to have it removed so now I have a big old divot in my arm.

On the same day as that derm. visit, a sore place on my gums developed into an abscess, which grew until it burst.  Fortunately my dentist was able to see me the next day.  The swelling is mostly gone and there doesn't seem to be anything to be concerned about, although he couldn't say what had caused it.

It didn't help that these second two issues occurred at the same time Sweet Hubby and I were going through a 3 day power outage, so moving from our cold dark house into a motel room.  I also had an acting audition for a role in a feature film, which had to be recorded and submitted by the end of that very bad day.  It all felt like a lot at once.

I promise this will be my only organ recital in this blog (although if we have lunch together you might hear about some of it again).  I'm mostly writing about all of this because of how it has affected my spirit.  I feel more vulnerable now, less assured of my health and strength.  These issues have all been, or soon will be (I hope) successfully resolved and my energy is restored, with a few adjustments for my aching feet, but I am keenly aware now that there will be more issues to come.  I don't know what they will look like, when they will show themselves, how bad they might become.  I just know that they are waiting for me.

Okay.  I'm human and mortal and it's messy.  Okay.   Bring it on.

 

Time to talk about it

Here are some random thoughts that have been floating through my mind since the election:

It's time for me to give up the idea that I can change anybody's mind.  I've known that for a long time, but now I really get it on a deeper level of insight.  People have to change their own minds.  Because of that, I'm hoping the country goes to shit right away.  That will be bad for everyone, but maybe - only maybe - it will wake up the people who have become entranced by what they believe Trump to be, or what they believe he will do.

Although I will certainly take part in symbolic actions, such as marches, I am going to be vigilant in searching for concrete actions I can take.  Action is the great antidote to depression and feelings of powerlessness.  Very important for me/all of us to remember that we are not powerless and voiceless.

Things are going to go very badly for Ukraine, with probable withdrawal of U.S. military support, so one of those actions I'm going to take is to write to NATO to urge that body to accept Ukraine as a member.  If Russia takes over Ukraine, especially after its almost uncontested Crimean grab, Putin will no doubt be emboldened to take over other countries/territories as well.    https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/198183.htm  

At my best, I've very, very curious to see how these next couple of years unfold.  At my worst, I'm full of despair.  But my despair doesn't help anything and hurts me.  My rage only adds darkness to the world.  That's not who I want to be.  So I'm working on curiosity.

I'm currently reading "Killers of the Flower Moon", an excellent nonfiction account of the investigation into the murders of Osage Indians, which were orchestrated mostly by one man who wanted the rights to their oil-rich land.  This book has reminded me that throughout all of human history there have been men (maybe some women, too, but mostly men) greedy for power and money.  This era is not an anomaly.  It just happens to be the era I/we are living through, so it feels more real and urgent, disgraceful and wrong.  Corruption in business and government is nothing new.

I believe, and my experience is, that most people are good and kind and friendly and honest.  But kindness is quiet; anger and bullying are noisy.  Noise makes the news, which is why it's so easy to have a skewed perspective on what's going on in the world.  I need to continue to approach people with an eye to their humanity, to reach across whatever divide there might be between us.

"A defeat doesn't mean you're defeated."  Joe Biden  

The patient died

 A friend shared this a few days before the election:

HOLDING VIGIL

 My cousin asks if I can describe this moment,

the heaviness of it, like sitting outside

the operating room while someone you love

is in surgery and you’re on those awful plastic chairs

eating flaming Doritos from the vending machine

which is the only thing that seems appealing to you, dinner-wise,

waiting for the moment when the doctor will come out

in her scrubs and face-mask, which she’ll pull down

to tell you whether your beloved will live or not. That’s how it feels

as the hours tick by, and everyone I care about

is texting me with the same cold lump of dread in their throat

asking if I’m okay, telling me how scared they are.

I suppose in that way this is a moment of unity,

the fact that we are all waiting in the same

hospital corridor, for the same patient, who is on life support,

and we’re asking each other, Will he wake up?

Will she be herself? And we’re taking turns holding vigil,

as families do, and bringing each other coffee

from the cafeteria, and some of us think she’s gonna make it

while others are already planning what they’ll wear to the funeral,

which is also what happens at times like these,

and I tell my cousin I don’t think I can describe this moment,

heavier than plutonium, but on the other hand,

in the grand scheme of things, I mean the whole sweep

of human history, a soap bubble, because empires

are always rising and falling, and whole civilizations

die, they do, they get wiped out, this happens

all the time, it’s just a shock when it happens to your civilization,

your country, when it’s someone from your family on the respirator,

and I don’t ask her how she’s sleeping, or what she thinks about

when she wakes at three in the morning,

cause she’s got two daughters, and that’s the thing,

it’s not just us older people, forget about us, we had our day

and we burned right through it, gasoline, fast food,

cheap clothing, but right now I’m talking about the babies,

and not just the human ones, but also the turtles and owls

and white tigers, the Redwoods, the ozone layer,

the icebergs for the love of God—every single

blessed being on the face of this earth

is holding its breath in this moment,

and if you’re asking, can I describe that, Cousin,

then I’ve gotta say no, no one could describe it

we all just have to live through it,

holding each other’s hands.

 

—from Poets Respond.   Rattle Magazine Alison Luterman

Trying to understand

Every election year Sweet Hubby and I re-watch "The West Wing".  Last night we were watching an episode in the final season, which is about the campaign for a new President.  Both the Democratic and Republican candidates were men of intelligence and integrity.  When the Rep. lost the race, his staff urged him to contest the vote, but he refused, even though he had possible cause (the sudden death of the Dem. VP candidate). 

Watching this, I was suddenly overcome by an anguish which has been simmering below the surface of my soul since 2015, when it felt to me that half the country had gone insane and embraced a vile, lying, ignorant, narcissistic, mean-spirited bully as their hero and President.  Sometimes this anguish boils over, as it did last night.  "How is this possible?  How is this possible?  How is this possible?" I sobbed.  "I don't understand."

When I went to the back of the house to compose my mind, I found myself thinking of a minor incident from earlier that day.  During a workout class, I had mentioned to the instructor that my thigh muscles were cramping during one exercise.  She said "That's because they're working.  You're just not used to exercise."

I instantly felt insulted and defensive.  How dare she?  I workout 5-7 times every week.  I'm extremely fit for someone my age.  She's young, she doesn't understand that muscle cramps are a fact of elder life.  I didn't say any of that, of course, because that first reaction was followed almost at once by  some clearer thinking.  I knew she meant no harm, was responding to my comment in the way she knows to.  That first reaction was purely visceral; then my brain kicked in and smoothed my ruffled feathers with perspective and understanding.

I realized that every one of us is subject to those instant visceral reactions of fear and anger.  And I thought: maybe some people simply get stuck in those reactions, aren't able to move past them by examining them, thinking more critically, more wisely and clearly.

And so I began to have some understanding of how it is that a massive portion of the population can get excited about shallow, inflammatory  rhetoric full of dog whistles and triggers and simple answers.  That understanding  really helped me.  I could see that the main source of my anguish isn't because of how these Trump fanatics are behaving (however egregious that might be).  It's because of how hard it is for me to understand their behavior.  Once I can understand something, I can deal with it.  It's the not understanding that makes me feel so loony.