Falling Apart
Richard Freeman said that even if you do yoga every day, you will still grow old and die. I’ve certainly arrived at the first, if not yet the second.
Today was one of those days when the meat husk in which “Dave” resides (the dualist in me can’t resist thinking of it in such terms) was giving me all sorts of problems: left knee totally fucked; upper back surprisingly sore; nose stuffed up for no reason whatsoever. Asana practice this morning was depressing as hell: poses I’ve been able to do for a long time were beyond my reach; even lotus was pushing it. I felt like some old guy, stiff as a board, though far from light as a feather.
And it got me to wondering who I would be if I couldn’t do most of the things that I currently do, those activities by which I define myself. Suppose I no longer did yoga, rode a bike, didn’t eat meat, wrote this blog, taught community college classes, engaged in occasional soft drug use, etc., etc. Who would I be?
Sure, I’d still physically be the same collection of genes and their phenotypical expression, but would I still be this guy? Maybe instead, I’d be a pot-bellied fundamentalist with a beard. Who knows? Perhaps I’d be a bald-headed cigar smoker at an Italian restaurant. Or I could even be a gentleman with a moustache.
Mainly, I wonder if this person whose capabilities are constrained is the person I’m going to be from now on. For some time, I’ve fancied myself as having this or that ability that now, at this point, eludes me. So, will I have to adjust my self-conception or is it possible that I will regain those lost abilities?
If I were a car or computer, it might be time to simply trade me in for a new model; if I were a horse, would it be time for the glue factory?
Today was one of those days when the meat husk in which “Dave” resides (the dualist in me can’t resist thinking of it in such terms) was giving me all sorts of problems: left knee totally fucked; upper back surprisingly sore; nose stuffed up for no reason whatsoever. Asana practice this morning was depressing as hell: poses I’ve been able to do for a long time were beyond my reach; even lotus was pushing it. I felt like some old guy, stiff as a board, though far from light as a feather.
And it got me to wondering who I would be if I couldn’t do most of the things that I currently do, those activities by which I define myself. Suppose I no longer did yoga, rode a bike, didn’t eat meat, wrote this blog, taught community college classes, engaged in occasional soft drug use, etc., etc. Who would I be?
Sure, I’d still physically be the same collection of genes and their phenotypical expression, but would I still be this guy? Maybe instead, I’d be a pot-bellied fundamentalist with a beard. Who knows? Perhaps I’d be a bald-headed cigar smoker at an Italian restaurant. Or I could even be a gentleman with a moustache.
Mainly, I wonder if this person whose capabilities are constrained is the person I’m going to be from now on. For some time, I’ve fancied myself as having this or that ability that now, at this point, eludes me. So, will I have to adjust my self-conception or is it possible that I will regain those lost abilities?
If I were a car or computer, it might be time to simply trade me in for a new model; if I were a horse, would it be time for the glue factory?
posted by Professor Dave at 8:36 PM
1 Comments:
Hi there, "Dave". (that period wouldn't look right in those quotes would it? the coder in me refuses to put there)
Nice blog you have here. It gets read every day. And if you defined yourself some other way which didn't include writing it, well, shit, man, the world would be a lesser place.
:-)
On the other hand.
I've lately been contemplating the phrase, "today is a good day to die." I've run it through my mind so many times it's become a koan.
There's really no point to any of this. I just like your blog.
thanks,
Sal
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