Doctor Shigeaki Hinohara

I received the following email today and wanted to share it. It was sent by two elders in the Shambhala community.

At the age of 97 years and 4 months, Shigeaki Hinohara is one of the world's longest-serving physicians and educators. Hinohara's magic touch is legendary: Since 1941 he has been healing patients at St. Luke's International Hospital in Tokyo and teaching at St. Luke's College of Nursing. After World War II, he envisioned a world-class hospital and college springing from the ruins of Tokyo; thanks to his pioneering spirit and business savvy, the doctor turned these institutions into the nation's top medical facility and nursing school. Today he serves as chairman of the board of trustees at both organizations. Always willing to try new things, he has published around 150 books since his 75th birthday, including one "Living Long, Living Good" that has sold more than 1.2 million copies. As the founder of the New Elderly Movement, Hinohara encourages others to live a long and happy life, a quest in which no role model is better than the doctor himself.

"Energy comes from feeling good, not from eating well or sleeping a lot. We all remember how as children, when we were having fun, we often forgot to eat or sleep. I believe that we can keep that attitude as adults, too. It's best not to tire the body with too many rules such as lunchtime and bedtime.All people who live long regardless of nationality, race or gender share one thing in common: None are overweight... For breakfast I drink coffee, a glass of milk and some orange juice with a tablespoon of olive oil in it. Olive oil is great for the arteries and keeps my skin healthy. Lunch is milk and a few cookies, or nothing when I am too busy to eat. I never get hungry because I focus on my work.. Dinner is veggies, a bit of fish and rice, and, twice a week, 100 grams of lean meat..Always plan ahead. My schedule book is already full until 2014, with lectures and my usual hospital work. In 2016 I'll have some fun, though: I plan to attend the Tokyo Olympics!

There is no need to ever retire, but if one must, it should be a lot later than 65. The current retirement age was set at 65 half a century ago, when the average life-expectancy in Japan was 68 years and only 125 Japanese were over 100 years old. Today, Japanese women live to be around 86 and men 80, and we have 36,000 centenarians in our country. In 20 years we will have about 50,000 people over the age of 100...Share what you know. I give 150 lectures a year, some for 100 elementary-school children, others for 4,500 business people. I usually speak for 60 to 90 minutes, standing, to stay strong.When a doctor recommends you take a test or have some surgery, ask whether the doctor would suggest that his or her spouse or children go through such a procedure. Contrary to popular belief, doctors can't cure everyone. So why cause unnecessary pain with surgery I think music and animal therapy can help more than most doctors imagine.To stay healthy, always take the stairs and carry your own stuff. I take two stairs at a time, to get my muscles moving.My inspiration is Robert Browning's poem "Abt Vogler." My father used to read it to me. It encourages us to make big art, not small scribbles. It says to try to draw a circle so huge that there is no way we can finish it while we are alive. All we see is an arch; the rest is beyond our vision but it is there in the distance.

Pain is mysterious, and having fun is the best way to forget it. If a child has a toothache, and you start playing a game together, he or she immediately forgets the pain. Hospitals must cater to the basic need of patients: We all want to have fun. At St. Luke's we have music and animal therapies, and art classes.Don't be crazy about amassing material things. Remember: You don't know when your number is up, and you can't take it with you to the next place.Hospitals must be designed and prepared for major disasters, and they must accept every patient who appears at their doors. We designed St.... Luke's so we can operate anywhere: in the basement, in the corridors, in the chapel. Most people thought I was crazy to prepare for a catastrophe, but on March 20, 1995, I was unfortunately proven right when members of the Aum Shinrikyu religious cult launched a terrorist attack in the Tokyo subway. We accepted 740 victims and in two hours figured out that it was sarin gas that had hit them. Sadly we lost one person, but we saved 739 lives.

Science alone can't cure or help people. Science lumps us all together, but illness is individual. Each person is unique, and diseases are connected to their hearts. To know the illness and help people, we need liberal and visual arts, not just medical ones...Life is filled with incidents. On March 31, 1970, when I was 59 years old, I boarded the Yodogo, a flight from Tokyo toFukuoka. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and as Mount Fuji came into sight, the plane was hijacked by the Japanese Communist League-Red Army Faction. I spent the next four days handcuffed to my seat in 40-degree heat. As a doctor, I looked at it all as an experiment and was amazed at how the body slowed down in a crisis.Find a role model and aim to achieve even more than they could ever do. My father went to the United States in 1900 to study at DukeUniversity in North Carolina. He was a pioneer and one of my heroes. Later I found a few more life guides, and when I am stuck, I ask myself how they would deal with the problem.It's wonderful to live long. Until one is 60 years old, it is easy to work for one's family and to achieve one's goals. But in our later years, we should strive to contribute to society. Since the age of 65, I have worked as a volunteer. I still put in 18 hours seven days a week and love every minute of it."

BEING OLD IN THE TWENTY FIRST CENTURY by Ann Cason

One day, as I was interviewing a young woman who wanted a job working with older adults, she told me, “When the consumer needs toileting, I---“
Oh, oh, I wondered. Is she going to tell me about bed pans or the correct terminology for bodily processes? But that wasn’t it. Caregivers are often taught to label elders by their function or by their disease.(i.e. there’s a broken hip in bed two) We are also taught not to use slang for bodily processes. We can’t say, “The old woman needs to pee.” The elder is no longer perceived as an old person vegetating in a rocking chair. Older people are no longer referred to as old, frail, or dying. They are older adults at the end of life who may have life limiting illness and who are consumers of services.
Some think that the elderly consume too many health services. Some think that too many elderly people slip through the cracks and are not served enough. Either way whether you think of an elder as a consumer, a vegetater, or a rocker; the view seems to be dead end attitude. It is the trash heap, where people land, who are thought of by their function in society. Am I a consumer, a boomer, or a bed in a facility? Am I staying home or aging in place? Do I contribute services or use them up? But there is another question to ask. What is it to be a human being—to live and die with appreciation, with tenderness, with inquisitiveness, and the courage it takes to communicate without all those labels?
Continuing with the interview, I tell the young woman being interviewed this: The other day I called on a very old woman to see if she needed some help. “Bring me a car.” She told me. “I want to go to Talbot’s to buy my last sweater.
“How would you respond to this elder?” I ask the young woman.
She replied. “Well, I wonder if someone so old needs a new sweater.”
“But what if she wants one?” I ask. “Like a last wish before dying? Or what if she is being a drama queen or trying to solicit pity?”
“Should she want a new sweater when she is nearly 90 years old?” The young woman persists. “Would she get her money’s worth?”
“Can’t we start where she is?” I suggest. “Wouldn’t it be healing to take an expedition to a store: the fresh air, talking with sales clerks, the touch of wool and fake fur? What about the color that wakes you up and lets you enjoy being alive?”
“Well, maybe we could call the doctor for some Ativan. (anti-anxiety drug) A shopping neurosis is not so good.” The prospective caregiver suggested..
I relax into the interview. Maybe this young woman and I don’t quite connect. Young and old have different words. Yet, how good it is to talk it over. “There is more than one way to skin a cat,” as my own mother often told me. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if communication could be the courage we live with, so we wouldn’t have to label our dear fellow compadres as consumers, even if we still want sweaters or need help with toileting when we are old?

Audacious Aging

It is no surprise that many people, not involved in Shambhala, are noticing that they (and a lot of their friends) are getting older. Nor is it a surprise that many of these people are bringing their life experience and expertise to bear on the question of how they plan to spend their ‘elder’ years.

The newly published book, “Audacious Aging”, edit by Stephanie Marohn (Elite Books, 2008/2009) is made up of short essays, a few pages in length, by nearly forty interesting and thoughtful people, ranging in age from 40’s to 90’s.

Their careers and life paths are quite diverse, ranging from spiritual leaders (Deepak Chopra, Ram Dass ) to politicians (Robert Byrd, George McGovern), to performers (Lena Horne, Dick Van Dyke), to culture changers like Helen Gurley Brown and Gloria Steinem. The topics range from medicine, to culture, to just plain common sense, and more.

What is common in nearly all the essays is the message that audacious aging is a continuation of audacious living, of being willing to engage in the world and go beyond the routine, to deepen and contribute.

In short, getting old is a great opportunity to bring life to fruition on a personal, interpersonal and societal level. One writer joked that ‘we thought the revolution was in the 60’s, but it may turn out to be in our 60’s’.

In the forward by Joe Laur and Isabelle St-Jean, the intent of the book is stated as follows:

“We invite you to ride with us on the wings of courage, from the heightened perspective afforded by years of journeying. May we all rise to the challenge of transforming our society from a youth / appearance-worshiping culture into one that fosters the values of the heart, supports the evolution of consciousness, and leaves to future generations a legacy of which we can be wildly proud”.

This statement could be seen as pointing to the core aspiration of Shambhalians as well, to transform the world from the materialism (physical, psychological and spiritual) of the setting sun outlook to the vision of enlightened society.

In any case this book provides an introduction to a wealth of useful tools, information and inspiration.

Feeling my age

I am 67 years old and today I’m feeling my age. A cold, or flu virus, has been chewing on my cells for the past four days. Nothing serious, just a bit of sinus congestion and a feeling of being spaced out. But it is certainly enough to throw “me” off its busy game plan.

At the same time the news channels are filled with dire predictions of a swine flu pandemic. It seems that tiny strands of nucleic acids could take over my body at any moment. The overall sense I have is of being physically and mentally vulnerable

There is no doubt that I’m getting older. I can feel it in many parts of my life.

Three years ago I retired from my job as a Clinical Nurse Specialists in Psychiatry. The pension cheques began showing up, a monthly reminder that my full time working days were behind me (unless the pension plan goes broke). The contract work I’ve been doing since then, consulting on psychiatry research and education initiatives, has kept my mind involved in the developments in psychiatry, and brought in some much needed extra money. Still, as I talk with younger people who have taken on the positions of responsibility I used to hold, my passage into another phase of life is vividly evident.

I seem to be exercising more consistently than I did when I was working full time. Nonetheless my endurance and strength are certainly diminished from what they were ten years ago. One marker I have for that decline is Magyal Pomra Encampment (MPE). I have attended each of the MPEs over the past ten years. Last year I particularly noticed that I needed to rest more and couldn’t fully participate in drill practice. Fortunately, during MPE2008 a group of us who were senior officers, and somewhat older, were grouped together, partially in recognition of our physical status (although some of my MPE peers have not slowed down nearly as much as I have).

Similarly, health and comfort issues have begun to shape the way my wife and I attend major programs at Dorje Denma Ling (DDL), the land center closest to our home in Halifax. At DDL there are only a limited number of rooms in the lodge that was built several years ago. The rest of the accommodations are in small cabins or in tents. These are quite adequate, but can be difficult in poor weather. Like many friends our age, we try to make reservations at nearby B&B’s, but these too are limited in number.

Death is also becoming more familiar and real. The big lesson for me was the death of my parents. They were both very competent and healthy people. When my dad died at age 81, only two months after being diagnosed with liver cancer, it just seemed unbelievable to me. Fortunately I was able to see, and actually touch, his body a few hours after his death. (I was on an airplane coming to see him when he died). That certainly helped make it real for me. But I still am contemplating the fact that these two people, who seemed so much better at dealing with life than I have ever been, were not immune to death.

As the reality of aging becomes clearer, the sense of needing to develop a deeper understanding and realization of basic goodness also seems more evident; but how to do that? Is it time to become a monastic or live at a land center? Should I be doing different practices because I am older? These are the questions, I’m still looking for answers.

-dave whitehorn

Beyond Hope and Fear

The following quote from Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche may be helpful as a contemplation.

“Tibetans are cheerful about getting older, because they are proud to have lived another year. People in the west seem to take a different attitude. We sometimes have a hard time accepting change, especially when it involves aging, sickness and death. We feel depressed about getting older, because we are getting further from being young. I certainly don’t mind getting older. I’ve enjoyed the process of growing and learning. I owe my appreciation in part to my teachers, who taught me to contemplate the truths of human existence. They would often laugh as they talked about all the different ways we could die. They said, “Ultimately, death comes without warning”. They were not being callous or vindictive. They knew the power that comes from contemplating reality. It frees our mind from hope and fear. Now I know that I can either fight impermanence tooth and nail or accept it and grow from there.”

---Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche. In Ruling Your World, Morgan Road Books, 2005; pp 121-122.

The construct of ‘old age’

Recently a group of us were working on a proposal about aging that focused on the transition into ‘old age’. We consulted with a long time Shambhala Buddhist practitioner who is 94 years of age about what age might mark the entry into ‘old age’. Her reply was, “well…90….maybe”.

Contemplating these comments I was reminded of the Buddhists teachings about how we create dualistic constructs (a fundamental one being the sense of ‘me’) and then forget that we made them up. We go around believing that our constructs have an essence of their own; that they actually exist.

When we use the words ‘old age’ we are using a dualistic construct. It may or may not be useful or helpful but from a non-dualistic point of view there really is no such thing as ‘old age’.

On a conventional dualistic level, it would also seem that the meaning we attach to a construct like ‘old age’ is not the same for everyone and, as well, can change over time.

My own case could be example. I am 67 years old. My grandfather died when he was 67. At that time I was a college student and my grandfather, who was dying of colon cancer, certainly seemed old to me. I would have placed him the category of ‘old age’.

On the other hand, my father was quite active and healthy when he was 67 and remained so until a brief terminal illness at age 81. I know from several conversations when he was in his late 60’s that he did not consider himself old.

I don’t consider myself old either, although I love taking the Senior's discount. But I do recognize that I’m older than I was and that my body and brain/mind (especially my memory) are showing signs of being old.

The point of this contemplation, if there is one, could be that there is no single definition or meaning associated with the construct ‘old age’. It might, in fact, be helpful if we dropped that construct altogether. Perhaps instead of talking about 'old age' it would be more useful to simply talk about the experience of ‘being older’.

Tai Chi in the Park

Ann Cason received this e-mail in response to a request for stories about enlightened aging:

Hi Ann,

This isn't a story, but is a very wonderful thing now happening in St. Johnsbury and Lyndonville. Susan Shaw and Vicki Giella were inspired to ask Richard Reoch if he would authorize me to lead a program for Seniors - I mostly call them "Elders" our of respect for their wisdom of years.

We started in St. J with around 20 people and it has grown. This coming summer will be our third summer in the park. We use St. J House in the winter. Sal DeMaio and Joanne Post have joined as leaders and together they support the Lyndonville group. We get some funding from through the Area Agency on Aging and Blue Cross. Of late i have been asked to start another group in Greensboro. It is a wonderful program. Enjoy our little film made by Richard Reoch.

http://www.dogooder.tv/Orgs/nevaaa/default.aspx?MovieID=1700

Much love, Patricia