The ground (experience) of aging in Shambhala

Contemplation on the question: What is the experience of aging in Shambhala?

What is written here arose from a 90 minute conversation among 12 Shambhala practitioners, all 60 years of age or older. I have summarized some of the points that were articulated and mixed them with my own experience at the age of 68.

--David Whitehorn (Mountain Drum)
5June2010, Halifax

Precious human birth.
There is a finite amount of time left in this life. The meaning of ‘precious human birth’ becomes more and more evident.

What to do with whatever time remains; a more and more frequent spontaneous contemplation. A long list of personal interests comes to mind, creative passions not yet explored, places to visit literally and in my mind. Perhaps the time could go into long periods of meditation or programs in contemplative disciplines of various kinds that I’ve always wanted to learn but never found the time.

On the other hand, perhaps the time and energy would be better used by engaging the world to help sort out the multitude of difficulties that face the world at what seems like a crucial period in the evolution of human culture. After all, the Shambhala vision is of enlightened society. If that vision has been central to my life so far, would it not make sense to engage it even more intensively in the final years? The Bodhisattva Warrior certainly takes care of her/himself, but does so in order to be able to help others.

Death.
There is no escaping death. What will that be like? The practice has always been about letting go, but what will it be like to let go of everything? In my practice, formal and informal, I notice how much I cling to my preconceptions, how often I freak out when the experience of groundlessness suddenly arises. At some level I understand that the ‘me’ who is going to die never really existed, but there is no denying my attachment to this form, empty as it may be. There are inspiring stories of many old people, some great practitioners, some just ordinary folks, who have relaxed into death. But is there a ‘good death’ to which I should aspire, or is it more about relating directly with how ever my death unfolds? If the concept of reincarnation is true, we’ve all experienced death many times and, the last time around, handled it well enough to achieve a precious human birth, but not well enough to avoid reincarnation altogether; or perhaps we chose to return to help others, a comforting thought.

Nursing homes.Death is one thing but what about an extended period of serious illness and disability, being unable to care for myself for months or years. I’ve been in nursing homes and I don’t like to idea of ending up in that kind of institutional environment. Can the Shambhala mandala organize itself to provide an alternative?

Isolation.Even if I don’t need to be in a nursing home, will I become less and less active and become isolated from people and the activities of the world? Will I be unable to attend programs to hear the teachings and be in the presence of great teachers and my dharma sisters and brothers?

A friend who lives alone recounts how, when she had an extended illness, it seemed that everyone forgot about her. Do I take my connections with others for granted? I think of myself as being independent, but there is no denying that I do better, in terms of body, speech and mind, if my life is interlinked with others in a meaningful and caring way in which I can both give and receive.

Happiness.I recognize that there is a difference between experiencing aloneness, the fact of being an individual sentient being, and experiencing loneliness, a confused clinging to the idea that happiness comes from external events (see the 1974 Seminary transcripts). I’m in awe of the 100 year old woman in Halifax, a friend of a friend, who lives in poverty in the most dangerous and degraded apartment building in the city, yet is always caring and giving toward others and radiates happiness.

Is it useful to contemplate and talk about aging?
Has this contemplation on the experience of getting older, the ground of aging, been useful? When a 76 year old friend was invited to participate in a group discussion about aging she laughed. “No thanks, I already did that. I’m too busy living”. Another friend, 94 year old, is angered and offended by the idea that people would relate to her as an old person.

If this kind of contemplation tends to solidify my view of myself as being ‘old’ then it would seem counter-productive. On the other hand, if it helps me to be more aware of what is unfolding in my life and how to work with that in a skillful way, then it would seem to be helpful.