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Living, dying, and so on
Oct. 25th, 2011 09:56 amA friend says that the point of living is not living for ever but "living in the now." This is a phrase one hears a lot. What exactly does it mean?
For instance, I am living in the now right, as it were, now. There are things that need to be done, like laundry, shopping, cleaning the house, but that's all future stuff, and I'm living in the now. Maybe I'll do some music, or read a book, or go back to bed, or just carry on wasting time on this computer. Experiencing the moment in all its intensity. Just passing on the thoughts as they flow through my head. Making no plans. Living in the now.
Obviously that's completely unworkable as a lifestyle, especially if you're married. But it's hard to see what else "living in the now" could mean, beyond the frodding obvious fact that I am physically alive, awake, moving, perceiving and thinking now. If I weren't I'd be dead.
Cats, now, cats live in the now. They want the food now. They want fuzzles now. They want your lap now. Is that how I should be? I don't think so. I think I have to be people (sometimes very many people) and part of being people is letting your awareness extend into the past and the future, having memories and making plans, thinking about things, being responsible and all that sort of rot. And part of making plans is wanting to live for ever, because life, like art, is never finished, only abandoned. (Okay, make that rarely. Maybe some people do round off their lives, stand back and look at them appraisingly, give a little nod and a "yup, that's good" and then pass away. I don't know, but I know that won't happen with me.)
Whenever that song from Highlander comes on there's usually a chorus of "We do!" from this house, which given the current state of our lives might seem incongruous, but to me it's an indication that somewhere in our crabbed and shrivelled hearts we still cherish an obstinate nub of hope. That things might get better one day, rather than worse. That they might find a way to reverse neuropathy and restore wrecked sight. That one of us, one day, might still write the Reasonably Good British SF Story. We've heard all the arguments, about "oh, you'd get bored" and "oh, you'd have to watch all your loved ones die" and "oh, but you'd use up all the resources" and, yes, we do that already, but it would take us many lifetimes to run out of interesting things that we could do on just this planet if we only had the time, and yes, we do that too, far too often, and in the meantime we find new people to love and be loved by, and yes, you mean like we mortals are doing now? (Maybe if there were a bunch of immortals around using up the resources it might spur us on to go out and find some more like we should have been doing thirty years ago.)
Fact is, nobody knows what it's like to be immortal, but (quite reasonably) nobody wants anybody else to have it and not them, so the sour grapes get passed around and we are told to "live in the now" and be content with the fact that the nows will suddenly run out some random day and that will be that. Which is absolutely fine. Not a problem at all. The only teeny tiny little problemette I have is that, every so often, I find myself being made to feel guilty and ashamed and in the wrong because the idea of living for ever does nonetheless appeal to me.
There's more about this--these thoughts have been boiling up inside me for several days now and I really need to get rid of them--but right now I need to stop living in the now and get on with important stuff. See you in the later.
For instance, I am living in the now right, as it were, now. There are things that need to be done, like laundry, shopping, cleaning the house, but that's all future stuff, and I'm living in the now. Maybe I'll do some music, or read a book, or go back to bed, or just carry on wasting time on this computer. Experiencing the moment in all its intensity. Just passing on the thoughts as they flow through my head. Making no plans. Living in the now.
Obviously that's completely unworkable as a lifestyle, especially if you're married. But it's hard to see what else "living in the now" could mean, beyond the frodding obvious fact that I am physically alive, awake, moving, perceiving and thinking now. If I weren't I'd be dead.
Cats, now, cats live in the now. They want the food now. They want fuzzles now. They want your lap now. Is that how I should be? I don't think so. I think I have to be people (sometimes very many people) and part of being people is letting your awareness extend into the past and the future, having memories and making plans, thinking about things, being responsible and all that sort of rot. And part of making plans is wanting to live for ever, because life, like art, is never finished, only abandoned. (Okay, make that rarely. Maybe some people do round off their lives, stand back and look at them appraisingly, give a little nod and a "yup, that's good" and then pass away. I don't know, but I know that won't happen with me.)
Whenever that song from Highlander comes on there's usually a chorus of "We do!" from this house, which given the current state of our lives might seem incongruous, but to me it's an indication that somewhere in our crabbed and shrivelled hearts we still cherish an obstinate nub of hope. That things might get better one day, rather than worse. That they might find a way to reverse neuropathy and restore wrecked sight. That one of us, one day, might still write the Reasonably Good British SF Story. We've heard all the arguments, about "oh, you'd get bored" and "oh, you'd have to watch all your loved ones die" and "oh, but you'd use up all the resources" and, yes, we do that already, but it would take us many lifetimes to run out of interesting things that we could do on just this planet if we only had the time, and yes, we do that too, far too often, and in the meantime we find new people to love and be loved by, and yes, you mean like we mortals are doing now? (Maybe if there were a bunch of immortals around using up the resources it might spur us on to go out and find some more like we should have been doing thirty years ago.)
Fact is, nobody knows what it's like to be immortal, but (quite reasonably) nobody wants anybody else to have it and not them, so the sour grapes get passed around and we are told to "live in the now" and be content with the fact that the nows will suddenly run out some random day and that will be that. Which is absolutely fine. Not a problem at all. The only teeny tiny little problemette I have is that, every so often, I find myself being made to feel guilty and ashamed and in the wrong because the idea of living for ever does nonetheless appeal to me.
There's more about this--these thoughts have been boiling up inside me for several days now and I really need to get rid of them--but right now I need to stop living in the now and get on with important stuff. See you in the later.