Conference quark::human_relations-v1

Eric -

Where did you get the 40-50 years left to enjoy sunsets??

Is that your own life expectancy?? Or are you doomin' and gloomin' ??

Grins,

Clark.

BTW - 50 years gives you 18,250 sunsets to enjoy....

Eric,

I've been going through some very similar things over the past several months,
especially when I'm enjoying being me. I sometimes feel split in two - like an
eternal self that's part of the universe looking down at *ME* the person, 
thinking, "I'm really fond of you - I'll miss you when you're gone."

I don't know how old you are - in your 30's, aren't you?  Since passing 35 I've
noticed myself aging, frustrated that I can't stop it, and sad and frightened
that someday I won't be around anymore.  Makes me wish that I could at least
contribute something significant to the world before I go.  The older I get the
more I learn, the wiser I feel,and the more I think I'm improving - I wish
it didn't have to stop.

There are a lot of beautiful days here in Colorado - blue skies, warm
sunshine, snow-capped mountains, green forests, golden aspens in the fall.
Sometimes I wonder how it all evolved the way it did, and wonder at the joy
it fills us with inside when we look upon it.

We really don't know very much about the world we live in, or even about 
ourselves.

Paula

    Eric,
    
    Instead of getting bummed out on the future try to enjoy what you have
    and take one day at a time.
    
    -Lynn
    

    I think the 18,000 sunsets was a great way to look at it.  I live in
    Santa Barbara, CA, and in the Fall on my drive home from work I also
    marvel at the most gorgeous sunsets.  It looks like a painting with
    fluorescest colors like from the stroke of a brush.  I just have to be
    careful not to get in a wreck.
    
    In regards to time passing I try to make the most of it, but I am
    getting to 35 and realizing that a time will come eventually when I
    will have no choice in leaving this world.  I would like to leave
    something important, even better, to enjoy what I will contribute in my
    lifetime.  If this life has so many beautiful attributes of nature can
    you imagine what is in store for us in our next life which is supposed
    to be better?  I'll just miss my family.
    
    As for now I'll enjoy the sunsets and wish I didn't have to spend all
    the valuable hours each day closed off from it all under artificial
    lighting in artificial air while all the wonders of nature pass me by.

    Eric,
    
    For me, whenever I see something that is truly, totally breathtaking, I
    take it as a gift.  I also take it as a glimpse of what heaven must be
    like.  So I that changes my outlook, I guess.  I know this sounds
    REALLY silly, but, hey, it's part of my belief system  ;^)
    
    ---Becca 

    There are certain stages in life where we begin to question different
    aspects of our existence.  It sounds as if you have reached one
    of those points, Eric.  If you can face your present fears, you
    may discover that you have a new awareness you never knew was there.
    These concerns are normal and everyone experiences them sooner or
    later--most of us at many different stages in our lives.  Try to
    look at this as a time of growth for you and learn what you can
    from the experience.
    
    Barb

    My inspiration for facing my inevitable death comes from watching my
    four grandparents age and eventually take that step into the unknown. 
    Each of them, to a greater or lesser degree, lived life fully EACH DAY. 
    While none of them ever expressed the goal of "living each day as if it
    were your last," they made sure they took care of the important things
    on a daily basis (saying "I love you" to their loved ones; enjoying the
    sunsets and the natural beauty around them; taking/making the time to
    pursue personal growth and fulfillment).  Each of them went to their
    death without regrets or might-have-beens.
    
    Because they all lived to a ripe old age (87 being the youngest death
    age), they also were able to demonstrate to me that life and living
    don't have to end at 30, at 40, at 50, or at retirement.  They made
    just as productive use of their old age as they did of their youth.
    
    Thanks to their example, I have no fear of death.  I welcome it as a
    big step into the next adventure.
    
    Karen

    I've thought more than once the terrible feeling it MUST BE of being
    locked up in a box and burried under 6 feet of earth... I know we all
    have to die someday but... boy, it is hard to accept it! I'm pretty
    much alive and appreciate being "still around" for as long as can
    possibly be... life is good and being alive is great! I wish I could
    live forever........

    But isn't dying what really gives life such great value? Suppose that
    you were (barring accidents, etc) going to live forever. How long
    before you got so bored with it all that you were ready to give it up
    anyway? What incentive is there to pay attention and "smell the
    flowers" if you have infinite tomorrows to do it in?
    
    Have you read any of Anne Rice's vampire stories? Here are creatures
    that can exist forever without aging at all. And yet virtually none
    of them survived more than a few hundred years. They got bored, or
    lonely, or simply couldn't cope with the way the world changes over
    that much time. I think we would all face pretty much the same fate.
    Immortality would lead us all to suicide.
    
    But mortality! That's different. Suddenly each day is a treasure beyond
    accounting. To me, death seems a fair price to pay.
    

    
    
    
    
    
    I believe, as appears others do also, that there is another life
    waiting for me after this one. IMO we should enjoy, cherish, nurture
    ourselves and others as we live each day.
    
    Sometimes I too have the "wow where has the time gone?" feeling. I am
    44 this year. I have finally run into aging, my vision is in need of some
    assistance(I will use training first then give into glasses later).
    I ache from activities that never bothered me before.
    
    When I get to thinking about all this, I remember the incredible events
    I have been part of: my incredible good fortune at finding and marrying
    my wife, to be present for the births of my children, come face/face
    with death in Vietnam and walk away, A triple rainbow in the Wilkinson
    Pass west of Colorado Springs, a raging typhoon, the gentle time of
    holding a cousin while we said our goodbyes to his father, the
    fierce competition of my high school football days. Wow!
    
    Whatever the rest of my life my bring, I have these and other wonderful
    things to cherish.
    
    Take life as it comes, change what you can for the better, accept
    gracefully that which you cannot change for the better, ask for the
    wisdom to know the difference.
    
    Richard

    
    Eric,
    
    Thanks for a provocative note. 
    
    Sunday night the sunset was gorgeous where I live.  I live in
    Sterling Mass on 3 acres of land, 2 rolling acres of grass surrounded
    on by woods.  The trees looked gorgeous in their autumn colors,
    a fog was settling over the grass and the sky was pink and blue.  I
    thought about how pretty it all looked.
    
    Instead of thinking where I was going, I thought of where I've been.
    There were many times in my life when I wouldn't care about a sunset or
    wouldn't have a nice home with such scenery right outside the door. 
    There were times in my life I had no where to go or was in such dire
    straits in my personal life that I would have missed it.  There are
    people in this world who did not know peace on Sunday night, the way I
    did.  There were times in my life I did not know it either.  The sunset
    was a gift and as you said, I won't be around forever to see them.  But
    if I worry about forever, I'll miss Sunday and what it means to me. 
    Knowing I don't have forever makes each day and the actions I take that
    day more important and more meaningful as someone else already said in
    a previous reply.  If I had forever, it would get boring indeed and
    things would just not have the impact on me that they do. 
    
    I took the opportunity, on Sunday night, to be grateful for the sunset,
    for my home and for my life as it stands today.  And when my life ends
    someone can ask "Did you stop and smell the roses (see the sunsets)?"
    and I can say "Yes I did."  Sunday night was one of those times and I
    gave thanks for that day and for the brilliance of nature and for my
    opportunity to enjoy it.
    
    Living just for today,
    Susan

    Re: the note that mentioned being 6 feet under...

    There was a movie out with Burt Lancaster (I think) called "Rocket
    Gibralter" that was a very touching look at dying.  You can probably
    still find it at local video stores.  It's worth a watch. 
    
    If you think about it, friends, when a child is "born" into this
    world, it is actually "dying" to the life it's always known.  Who
    says that each of us is not actually being "born" into a newer better
    life when we "die" to the life we've become familiar with? For those
    who may have gone through a "near death experience," being "dead" is
    far more pleasant than being "alive."
    
    Barb

    
    			Ozymandias
    
    I met a traveler from an antique land
    Who said:  Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
    Stand in the desert.  Near them, on the sand,
    Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
    And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
    Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
    Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
    The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed;
    And on the pedestal these words appear:
    "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
    Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
    Nothing beside remains.  Round the decay
    Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare 
    The lone and level sands stretch far away.
    
    			Percy Bysshe Shelley

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------
    
    			Death, Be Not Proud
    
    Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
    Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
    For those whom thu think'st thou dost overthrow
    Die not, poor Death; nor yet canst thou kill me.
    From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
    Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow;
    And soonest our best men with thee do go-
    Rest of their bones and souls' delivery!
    Thou'rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
    And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
    And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
    And better than thy stroke.  Why swell'st thou then?
    One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
    And Death shall be no more:  Death, thou shalt die.
                                            
    					John Donne

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------
    
    "....So Live, Laugh, and Love you wretched fools for the world shall
    end tomorrow!"
    
    				A Prophet/Preacher in Downtown San Diego
    				(Summer of 1978)

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
    
    I can't prove them, and I can't argue with them... so I thought
    I'd share them instead.
    
    Skip

Eric,

It all revolves around your priorities. If quality of life is more 
meaningful that it's longevity, then brooding over one's mortality 
is kind of counter productive, don't you think?

You remind me of my older daughter. She loved our family outings, 
where we'd pack a big, big cooler with all sorts of good stuff and 
drive off into the mountains for a day of swimming in the lake,
BBQing on those awful public open grills and taking it eeeeasy. 

Early in the morning, as we were getting in the car, just before
taking off, she would ask in a whimpering little voice, "Daddy, we
don't have to came back early, do we?" 

You see, she never fully enjoyed those outings she loved so much,
because she always worried they would end too soon. 

-- Ron

    Along the lines of Barb's reply I attended the dedication of my niece's
    children to the church this summer.  The dedication was part of the
    regular Sunday service, and I was very impressed with the country
    preacher's sermon.  Sue youngest Andrew was four weeks old at the time
    and the minister talked about Andrew's life in the womb as compared
    with his life now.  He was quite comfortable in the womb, all his needs
    were attended to but something compelled him to go through that tight
    corrider and come out into the world...a different address for sure. 
    Given the opportunity he would not return to his previous address.  The
    minister went on to say that in death we will go through another
    corrider and come out to another address...one which will fit and we
    will not remember or wish for what was before.
    
    So the whole thing is just like moving...and I am well prepared.  I
    have moved 42 times in 52 years!  

    	I've had the same reaction, when I allow myself to think about what
    it will be like to die; to cease to live.  To not be able to think,
    feel, see, hear or do anything.  Pretty scary.


    	I think times like those are important to help you keep things in
    perspective, but I don't let them rule my life.  Rather than think
    about what it will be like when I'm *not* here, I try to make the most
    of things while I *am* here.  Enjoy the moment.  "Live every moment,
    and love every day".  And try to laugh at least once every day, too --
    there's just nothing like a really good laugh to perk you up!


    Brian

    I save my sunsets - so far I have only been able to capture them with
    words and with a camera (a painter I am not)....but that way I can
    relive them as often as I want!
    
    And actually I have a harder time thinking about those around me dying
    that I love than thinking about myself dying...
    
    -Jody
    

    
    	I was with my mother when she died.  She suffered over a year with
    cancer.  Living for her at the time was horrible.  At the moment she
    died, however, I was alone with her in her room.  I was frightened. 
    However, I gave her a kiss, she took her last breath and she was gone. 
    When I say she was gone, I don't mean she was dead - as in cease to
    exist.  It was more like she had walked out of the room.  Sure, her
    body was still lying there, but "she" was somewhere else.  
    
    	As a child I was taught about heaven.  If that's where my Mom is,
    than that's wonderful, but since sharing her death I *know* there is
    something to look forward to after life.
    
    	I can't say growing older gets me too excited.  I don't want to be
    a burden to anyone, nor do I want to suffer the way my mother did.  I
    do want to enjoy this life to its fullest.
    
    	Sure, I make mistakes along the way, that's part of being human. 
    And I've been through some pain in my life.  Sometimes, I figure
    whatever comes next can't be as bad...other times this seems just fine.
    
    
    gotta run....
    
    
    jean

    I think about this situation from time to time, then look at my
    1 1/2 year old son and realize that I did contribute something
    wonderful to the world.  After I'm gone, a part of me will still
    be here to enjoy the wonders that I had to leave behind.  And even
    if I personally didn't do anything "great", perhaps he will or one
    of his descendents will.  
    
    And when I must leave, I want my ashes to be burried next to a Giant
    Sequoia in Yosemite.  Hopefully I'll give a little back to the one
    place on earth that has brought me my fondest memories of the raw
    beauty of nature.
    
    Kel
    

The moments of happiness are indeed few.  The crimson sky of the setting sun.  
The echo of your footsteps in the hollow mountain.  The barren ocean that 
forever pounds the deserted beach.  You climb the hill to view the ocean 
beyond; you chase after the fading sun over the mountain, forever gone; 
yet, you still wander on the beach waiting for that last glimpse of the 
sun--death, destruction and desolation.  Why should we complain the 
happy moment not last long?   For most of us, life is indeed very long.

Eugene

>-< a damper on the sunset >-


>I live on a high hill in Waltham Ma.  Saturday night I was taken with the
>gorgeous sunset I could see from up there.

    If I lived in Waltham, I'd worry about  the  hill  still being there
    next year !!  let alone 40-50 years from now !!
    

>I'm interested in hearing about similar experiences from others of you.

    When I was a young boy, we used to play in the woods not far from
    my home.   As  we grew on toward manhood, we'd consider how great it
    might be if our kids culd learn to enjoy those same woods.
    
    Today, those woods have a different name. Parts of them are called
    I-93 ...
    
    It  is  sad  to  see  even  geographic  landmarks  being  taken  for
    development ... but then, such is the nature of governmen ...
    
    -BobE
    
    

    I love nature and beautiful sunsets too.  What makes me sad is when I
    can't share them with someone else.