Submitted by Astudent01 on Sun, 09/21/2008 - 02:51
A Living Legacy
There's a phenomenon of the body which I find particularly fascinating: it's called the Charley Horse (See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charley_ho
http://i.ixnp.com/images/v3.47.0.1/theme/silver/palette.gif
for more information). I learned today that one can experience a
Charley Horse--intense cramping of a muscle, in my case the left
calf--as a result of dehydration. Massive consumption of alcohol with
too little water to counteract the dehydration effect of alcohol can
result in muscle cramping. So, this morning when I was in my bed and my
leg cramped up and my entire body tensed to brace itself for the
intense pain which resulted from the leg's paralysis, I found myself
asking, "What would happen if I die right now? What would I leave
behind?" An odd question at 7:15 in the morning, but that's not so
unusual.
It's a good question, though. What legacy--if
any--would I leave behind? What damage have I done and what have I not
said that I need to? If I were to die now, to leave this body behind,
what would people know about how I felt about them? These are, to some,
morbid questions. To me, they become a reflection of how I am living my
life and how I feel about that living experience. Death, which is as
much as an end as it is a beginning point, functions as a sounding
board for my existence in this world. I am not afraid of talking about
the world without my physical presence, nor am I frightened of thinking
of the world without those I love in it. Rather, I see it as an
opportunity to understand in a direct manner what it is that we are
doing here, how we are co-existing, what we are doing and why.
What
I often find most remarkable in taking on this question is how aware I
become of the games we play and how we think we're here to survive.
We're not. We're here for a purpose, a reason that is frequently beyond
verbal comprehension. Along the way we interact with material goods and
we are given the choice to have present, conscious interactions with
others or to live superficially. Either way, these are choices and so
are the opportunities in-between these two extremes. This life which we
live, the way in which we live it, that is ours to control. The
attitude, the questions, the consciousness with which we approach our
living on a daily basis says a lot about who we are.
The other
day, Grant and I were sitting about waiting for the thesis desk lottery
when we got to talking about the matters of the heart. I shared
candidly how I was feeling within my heart of hearts and how I was
disconcerted by the contraction which would seize my heart muscle at
the thought of certain people, experiences, realities. I found myself
cradling a line between constant jubilation and sadness and it was a
strange, often dualistic, balance. But then Grant, mulling on my
thoughts, said, "It seems as though are you maintaining." And while
Grant meant this in one regard, I took that feedback and applied it to
other areas of my life. And I could see areas in which he was right: I was maintaining. And that was no good....
So,
the contractions of my muscles, both heart and calf, tell me something
important: they tell me how well I am taking care of myself, how well I
am living my life. When my heart contracts, it reminds me that I am
alive but it also explicitly highlights how I am maintaining and that
may or may not underline parts of my life which need some vigorous
work. Maintenance can hide the broken, fragmented bits just enough so
that things appear functional but not right. At the end of my life,
with my last breath, I'd like to know that I did all I could to make
sure that things were healthy, alive, conscious and not that they were
being maintained. Life is far too precious, and miraculous, an
experience to leave it at that level.
So, when I die, what will
people think of when they think of me? A somewhat ego-centric question
but my hope is that they will have a better understanding of who they
are in the world, confidence in their ability to fulfill their task and
a zestful zeal for life that is inspiring to those around them. A high
bar of standards, but it's a good one to strive for.
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