that emotions are “visitors”. I have the sense that my time here is too short to allow them to take up residence and stay a long while. Even feelings of excitement and joy are fleeting, so why wouldn’t disappointment and sadness also be fleeting? I have a bird’s eye view of my own feelings and an easier time recognizing that everyone is experiencing these things now or at other times.
I participated in a Pema Chodron course on dying with a friend. I've also done reading, meditated on impermance, etc. I have a reminder on my phone that pops up randomly and says, "Don't forget - you're going to die." I observe the growing and dying in the natural world. With the observation is the recognition of the excitement at new growth, the deep appreciation of full flowering, the tenderness as the blossoms fade, and the acceptance of the end of that plant's cycle. This focus has helped the meaning of death to shift for me, feeling natural, not morbid. The lovely impact of that now is that I am able to greet new signs of aging (I'm 75) with a kind of wry humor instead of fear. Sometimes fear arises, and I can meet it with awareness and tenderness. All things arise and fall.
Have been reading here and there on Tibetan Buddhism and found it valuable, esp. Pema Chodron (whom I had the privilege of meeting long ago). Now am among several cancer patients and survivors. Dreading the known side effects - perhaps overly so - and wondering whether my oft-draining primary relationship is going to ultimately help or hinder. Thanks to all before for your comments.
Like many I lived with no thought of aging, even though at early age I lived in an aging uncle until he died. My great grandfather and grandmother died when I was about seven. I missed them and then off to growing up. Even in my sixties I had no feeling of being older. That ended with a back injury that changed everything. I was totally unable to handle the anger and rage at why did this happen to me. My blessing was to find Buddhist practice and the dharma. I’m at peace with myself and the way things are.
Aging has surely given me the view
that emotions are “visitors”. I have the sense that my time here is too short to allow them to take up residence and stay a long while. Even feelings of excitement and joy are fleeting, so why wouldn’t disappointment and sadness also be fleeting? I have a bird’s eye view of my own feelings and an easier time recognizing that everyone is experiencing these things now or at other times.
Impermanence, aging, death are subjects not often discussed in Western society. Avoided even. But how liberating these subjects can be when embraced!
Contemplating mortality gives me a deepening awareness of the present
I participated in a Pema Chodron course on dying with a friend. I've also done reading, meditated on impermance, etc. I have a reminder on my phone that pops up randomly and says, "Don't forget - you're going to die." I observe the growing and dying in the natural world. With the observation is the recognition of the excitement at new growth, the deep appreciation of full flowering, the tenderness as the blossoms fade, and the acceptance of the end of that plant's cycle. This focus has helped the meaning of death to shift for me, feeling natural, not morbid. The lovely impact of that now is that I am able to greet new signs of aging (I'm 75) with a kind of wry humor instead of fear. Sometimes fear arises, and I can meet it with awareness and tenderness. All things arise and fall.
Have been reading here and there on Tibetan Buddhism and found it valuable, esp. Pema Chodron (whom I had the privilege of meeting long ago). Now am among several cancer patients and survivors. Dreading the known side effects - perhaps overly so - and wondering whether my oft-draining primary relationship is going to ultimately help or hinder. Thanks to all before for your comments.
My skin is showing me how natural it is to let go.
Like many I lived with no thought of aging, even though at early age I lived in an aging uncle until he died. My great grandfather and grandmother died when I was about seven. I missed them and then off to growing up. Even in my sixties I had no feeling of being older. That ended with a back injury that changed everything. I was totally unable to handle the anger and rage at why did this happen to me. My blessing was to find Buddhist practice and the dharma. I’m at peace with myself and the way things are.
Chuck