Q: It intrigued and tickled me Robert when you said, on the Zoom discussion with Jim Newman, that you can just sit on a park bench and starve to death Ha! How did you mean that? It seems like it would be quite a willful act unless one was deeply depressed or very chilled and equanimous about one's existence, unless I'm taking what you said too literally?
Also, another time I recall you saying that you think about death every day; I'd be interested to know what kind of thoughts you have about death. When I try to contemplate my death, sometimes it seems to touch something deep and expansive in me, but mostly I either draw a blank or just nod off.
A: I guess you must wait to see what you feel about all that, Vic. There are no shortcuts.
Q: Sorry Robert, not clear what you mean about “shortcuts.” Wait for what? To see what I feel about all that?
A: Yes, feel about old age.
Q: When does old age start to begin feeling this? Maybe I'm feeling it now.
A: How old are you?
Q: Forgive me for appearing a bit secretive about my age Robert but I feel I’m old enough to be very conscious of my inevitable death and dying.
A: Oh, well, in that case, as a member of the club, so to speak, I do not have to remind you that this body and brain--without which there is no “myself” in the way most of us use that word (even if we labor not to)--is declining, breaking down, and decaying in the same fashion in which it grew and developed at an earlier physiological stage--by which I mean naturally.
Eventually--assuming accident or acute illness does not intervene, or even murder, for that matter--all will be lost, but more or less gradually. You will witness this entropy, willy-nilly. Unless you fall into total senility or profound delusion, the longer you live, the more loss you will witness.
Some people try to deal with the weight of old age, illness, and death--suspended above every moment like the sword of Damocles--by convincing themselves that "myself" is deathless, whatever that means. They claim that all this "spirituality" is about finding "Truth." Oh, please! Balderdash!
From my point of view, that spiritual chit-chat seems primarily focused on self-calming, avoiding depression, and suppressing fears of meaninglessness, fears of missing out, and the fear of not being at all.
The vehemence with which the idealists advocate for whatever metaphysics seems to promise “deathlessness, however far-fetched, indicates how desperate they are to escape.
People at ease with nature may have views about life and death, but those views are held lightly, not vehemently, nor ever sanctified. Any view could be mistaken, and no one stands outside of life to be certain of anything.
At ease with nature, one does not cling. As my dear friend John Troy reminds us, our being is systemic, organic. Some seeds fall on barren ground, and some produce flowers. No one is responsible for that; none of it belongs to us in particular. I feel no need to judge which flower is better and then confer the blue ribbon. In the words of Kurt Vonnegut, "I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you different.”
That is what the park bench business is all about: a metaphor pointing to a willingness to just be. This is not a death wish or the fruit of some profound depression. This is not a desire to die, but an aspect of Vairagya--of non-clinging--which is how I saw the interview with Jim--a conversation about that.
Regarding jargon: I just used a Sanskrit word because it says more about what I mean than the English one does. It appears to me that Jim is not being tricky or obscurantist in his language but earnestly expressing a certain point of view as best he can.
I like Jim. At least he does not try to sell that shopworn "deathless" meme. He meets the human situation with the view that the apparent "myself" that ages, sickens, and dies does not truly exist at all--in any sense that he would admit anyway--which is a point of view that I can appreciate philosophically and even at times psychologically. Although it's far from the only apple on the tree, it does have a certain elegance.
I am 77. I seem to be alive. Death is my favorite subject.
All this is so true. And you don't really need to be "old" to ponder the subject of dying. I've been thinking about this since I was a child and couldn't understand why people make such a big deal of it.
Now I'm middle-aged, witness some physical decline as it happens, think about death, and still can't understand all the taboo around it as well as the desperation to convince oneself and others that it's not true, that it can be transcended and it's not going to happen, and so on.
Just like birth, death seems a most natural part of life - nothing to get so excited about.