Practical spirituality for a complicated world.
***image1*** I recently spent a very pleasant afternoon with an extremely interesting, intelligent person. For the purposes of today's column, I'll call him Rick. He has a doctorate in psychology, however most of his professional life has been spent in education. Rick came to see me in order to discuss my teachings about life, death, and life after death. For the past several years, he's been living with a life-threatening disease. Recently, Rick was told by the medical establishment that he has six months to a year to live. He continues to follow their recommended therapies, but also explores "alternative" treatment and studies different spiritual traditions. We discussed everything from Carl Jung to the Bhagavad-Gita. I think we both learned a lot. Rick also gave me a most special gift that afternoon. He asked me, "Robert, if you knew you were going to die in six months, what would you do differently?" I sat quietly for a moment, somewhat in shock. Today's column is about some of what I thought about that afternoon.
I, who am writing this column, and you who are reading it now, are all going to die one day. We don't like to think about it too much, and perhaps that is for the best. We don't need to become morbid, or depressed, always thinking about death. At the same time, we need to be aware that we live in a rational materialist society that denies our mortality at every turn. Youth is glorified, age is denied. We often hear, "Children are our future," but this is not true. Children are part of the present, and so are adults. You don't stop having value when you're not a child, or if you not cute, and young and thin any more. Becoming an elder, offering your wisdom to those generations behind you, has always been, until recently, an honored stage of life. Now, we find ourselves in the unenviable position of having several generations of adults who, for the most part, don't know any more about life than the youngsters they ought to be teaching. The discussion of spiritual topics is too often left to religionists, who seem more concerned with their organizations than with people. I don't want to add to the confusion, anger and meanness that seem so prevalent today. I choose to live in my truth and to share what I know with whomever wants to see it. It happens that I sometimes share my truth in a public way in this column, but it is freely offered. You can read my words, or tear them up and throw them away. I would never dream of trying to force my vision on anyone else, or threaten anyone with punishment if they didn't conform to my own spiritual vision. Personally, this is simply an issue of respect for myself and for others. Who am I to tell others how to live? Who are the Baptists, or Catholics, or Muslims, or Hare Krishnas, or any other group to threaten anyone else with spiritual ruin if they don't follow their guidelines? I share this with you today, for I have spent too many years of this lifetime trying to follow others, all the while being threatened by them. I don't do that anymore. So, keep in mind as you read today's column that there are plenty of religious organizations that have condemned me to everlasting hell, death by stoning, and rebirth as an insect! I believe they're wrong. If any of them are right about God being so hatefully judgmental, then I'm still okay, for I wouldn't want to spend time in heaven, or anywhere else with the mean-spirited God they teach about.
This is some of what Rick and I discussed that afternoon. After Rick left that day, I spent some quiet time reflecting on my life. I evaluated, and then reevaluated what seemed important to me and prioritized that to which I want to devote more time. I discovered that if I knew I had six months to live, there are a few things I'd do (or not do) differently. If that were so, then why not go ahead and live that way now? Here is some of what I came up with.
If I knew I had six months to live:
1. I would be up to watch every sunrise, study the starry night, and I would toast every sunset.
2. I would forgive everyone whom I perceived had harmed me and I would forgive myself for the times I hurt others.
3. I would write a note to every spiritual teacher who touched my life, thanking them for sharing their truth.
4. I would spend a day shopping for fresh vegetables in the mercado in Juarez.
5. I would keep Ravi Shankar's
Chants of India
playing continuously (which I do anyway).
6. I would write a fan letter to Stevie Nicks, urging her to record a duet with Garth Brooks.
7. I would refuse to spend even one single minute in self-doubt, or in criticism of myself or anyone else.
8. I would invite my special friends over for supper, and we would feast on extra-hot, red chile enchiladas. I would also eat Sunday lunch at Sadie's, in Albuquerque, as often as I could.
9. I would spend as much time as possible chanting the mahamantra
Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare
(which I do anyway).
10. I wouldn't spend any time worrying about bills, or bank balances, or which party controls congress.
We humans are peculiar creatures. We often wait until a life emergency or tragedy to discover what we truly value. Well, okay, I can accept that we're sometimes that way. The challenge is to use these painful times to evaluate where we are, and what matters to us. Life is too short to waste even one day being unhappy or unfulfilled. Of course, I also know that we have as many lifetimes as we want, but the present life is the most important one. This is where we are right now…right here. If we can't be happy today, right now, then we will never be happy one day when we're rich, or famous, or thin, or (fill in the blank).
Why don't you try making your own list? Oh, I almost forgot to mention one of the most important things I'd do. I'd thank everyone who reads my column and finds something of value in it. Thank you, and God bless you.
OM
To ask Robert a question, visit his Web site, RobertOdom.com, e-mail him at desertrj@msn.com , or write him at PO Box 33, Santa Fe, NM 87504.