Happy belated birthday, Jacque. Long ago you made a decision that you would love and learn all the days of your life. And so how you walk in the world inspires us all. With loving wishes that you have many more decades ahead of happiness, wonder and love.
Reading your essay made me think of a book I read several years ago from Simone de Beauvoir: 'All men are mortal (Tous les hommes sont mortels)'. It tells the story of a man born in the 13th century who at the age of 52 drank a magical potion and became immortal. He lives on for centuries and get more and more detached from future generations. As live is filled with saying goodby and therefor with sorrow and grief. In the end he is incapable of giving and receiving love because he knows it is not going to last.
This book had a great impact on me and it made me realise that I want to live a healthy life as fulfilled as possible, but when it is my time, I will put my head down without fear.
Everytime I read about transhumanisme I get the impression that death is no longer allowed to be part of life. And that of all things is the only certainty in life. Although not the same, but having common grounds, I strongly decline transhumanism.
"Scientists have never been able to prove the brain is the seat of consciousness."
I consider any suggestion that consciousness exists separately from the brain to wishful thinking. Humans are blessed with thinking power which greatly outpaces our animal cousins, but with that blessing comes a terrible curse: we are aware that each of us will, one day, die. The mind rebels against such knowledge, and religions are formed which preach that, in one form or another, death is not the end of consciousness. One religion talks about being reunited with lost loved ones in "heaven". Another posits reincarnation. I am, to say the least, highly skeptical of such speculations.
This is not to disagree with the overall thrust of the column, which makes the important point that knowledge of our own finiteness in this life can be used to better approach life and the choices we do have. The futility of trying to "do everything" or "know everything" can be thought of as depressing, or, better, as liberating.
As always, I look forward to reading each work you publish.
JdL, I always appreciate reading your insights. I suspect we are not using the word consciousness' in the same way but let's leave it at and focus, as you say, on the importance of using our time wisely.
I'd be interested in exploring what meaning the word might have beyond my understanding of it. My sense is that it gets very slippery very fast, among adherents of the idea of consciousness outside the brain. Is it fair to say that the criterion of "After I die, my consciousness will continue to exist and that consciousness will remember events from prior to my death" could be applied to such beliefs? Or is the meaning something weaker? If weaker, I start to think the notion is pretty much piffle. It's true that scientists can't disprove the concept: science can't disprove anything; it can only suggest plausible theories that fit with reproducible observations.
Also, if this consciousness outside the brain exists in humans, does it also apply to our cousins in the animal kingdom? Or are humans so extra special that we connect to a mechanism that our poor brain-bound relatives can't touch?
I won't pretend to know what happens after death by pointing you to what others claim.
Here is my simplest pointer. There is a neutral awareness upon which you have experienced all of your thinking for your entire life.
That consciousness allows you, if you like, to sit in the audience neutrally and watch your antics as a character on the stage. I assigned that exercise to leadership students and for many it was eye-opening. They separated themselves from their ongoing mental narrative for the first time.
Steven Pressfield is a wonderful author of fiction and non-fiction. In his book the Legend of Bagger Vance (much better than the movie) the mystical caddie asks the troubled golfer:
"Tell me who you are Junah? Who, in your deepest parts when all that is inauthentic has been stripped away. Are you your name, Rannulph Junah? Will that hit this shot for you? Are you your illustrious forebears? Will they hit it? ... Are you your roles, Junah? Scion, soldier, Southerner? Husband, father, lover? Slayer of the foe in battle, comforter of the friend at home? Are you your virtues, Junah, or your sins? Your deeds, your feats? Are you your dreams or your nightmares? Tell me, Junah. Can you hit the ball with any of these?"
There is something beyond all of that. In my book The Inner-Work of Leadership, I take a deep dive.
Happy August to you Barry, in a few precious hours!
I loved your essay today, as I often do.
Very timely for me as I achieved my 80th birthday in June and have thought more about the meaning of time for the rest of my precious days!
Staying well and savoring.
Thankyou...love to you and Deborah.
Jacqueline
Happy belated birthday, Jacque. Long ago you made a decision that you would love and learn all the days of your life. And so how you walk in the world inspires us all. With loving wishes that you have many more decades ahead of happiness, wonder and love.
Thankyou, Barry
For your kindest of words.
What a great essay. It’s this sort of contemplation that expands the ‘present’ experience and makes it more precious.
You are very kind and wise, Celestra. Thank you.
Reading your essay made me think of a book I read several years ago from Simone de Beauvoir: 'All men are mortal (Tous les hommes sont mortels)'. It tells the story of a man born in the 13th century who at the age of 52 drank a magical potion and became immortal. He lives on for centuries and get more and more detached from future generations. As live is filled with saying goodby and therefor with sorrow and grief. In the end he is incapable of giving and receiving love because he knows it is not going to last.
This book had a great impact on me and it made me realise that I want to live a healthy life as fulfilled as possible, but when it is my time, I will put my head down without fear.
Everytime I read about transhumanisme I get the impression that death is no longer allowed to be part of life. And that of all things is the only certainty in life. Although not the same, but having common grounds, I strongly decline transhumanism.
"Scientists have never been able to prove the brain is the seat of consciousness."
I consider any suggestion that consciousness exists separately from the brain to wishful thinking. Humans are blessed with thinking power which greatly outpaces our animal cousins, but with that blessing comes a terrible curse: we are aware that each of us will, one day, die. The mind rebels against such knowledge, and religions are formed which preach that, in one form or another, death is not the end of consciousness. One religion talks about being reunited with lost loved ones in "heaven". Another posits reincarnation. I am, to say the least, highly skeptical of such speculations.
This is not to disagree with the overall thrust of the column, which makes the important point that knowledge of our own finiteness in this life can be used to better approach life and the choices we do have. The futility of trying to "do everything" or "know everything" can be thought of as depressing, or, better, as liberating.
As always, I look forward to reading each work you publish.
JdL, I always appreciate reading your insights. I suspect we are not using the word consciousness' in the same way but let's leave it at and focus, as you say, on the importance of using our time wisely.
I'd be interested in exploring what meaning the word might have beyond my understanding of it. My sense is that it gets very slippery very fast, among adherents of the idea of consciousness outside the brain. Is it fair to say that the criterion of "After I die, my consciousness will continue to exist and that consciousness will remember events from prior to my death" could be applied to such beliefs? Or is the meaning something weaker? If weaker, I start to think the notion is pretty much piffle. It's true that scientists can't disprove the concept: science can't disprove anything; it can only suggest plausible theories that fit with reproducible observations.
Also, if this consciousness outside the brain exists in humans, does it also apply to our cousins in the animal kingdom? Or are humans so extra special that we connect to a mechanism that our poor brain-bound relatives can't touch?
I won't pretend to know what happens after death by pointing you to what others claim.
Here is my simplest pointer. There is a neutral awareness upon which you have experienced all of your thinking for your entire life.
That consciousness allows you, if you like, to sit in the audience neutrally and watch your antics as a character on the stage. I assigned that exercise to leadership students and for many it was eye-opening. They separated themselves from their ongoing mental narrative for the first time.
Steven Pressfield is a wonderful author of fiction and non-fiction. In his book the Legend of Bagger Vance (much better than the movie) the mystical caddie asks the troubled golfer:
"Tell me who you are Junah? Who, in your deepest parts when all that is inauthentic has been stripped away. Are you your name, Rannulph Junah? Will that hit this shot for you? Are you your illustrious forebears? Will they hit it? ... Are you your roles, Junah? Scion, soldier, Southerner? Husband, father, lover? Slayer of the foe in battle, comforter of the friend at home? Are you your virtues, Junah, or your sins? Your deeds, your feats? Are you your dreams or your nightmares? Tell me, Junah. Can you hit the ball with any of these?"
There is something beyond all of that. In my book The Inner-Work of Leadership, I take a deep dive.