I lived in the tin shack in Desert Hot Springs from March, 2006 until January, 2008. While I was there I died. I was very much aware of dying, and of the process by which death pushes outward from the inside.
But at the same time I was dying I was being reborn, and didn't know it.
The elements of death were numerous and relentless; the most prominent, because it was the most painful, was the sudden wreck of my marriage. And at that same precise moment, 50 years of smoking had finally caught up with me, and I was wheezing and coughing from emphysema and bronchitis, gasping for air at the same time as my heart hammered in my chest so hard it seemed about to burst. For a time I neither ate nor slept much, and when I looked in the mirror I saw a man grown suddenly old, sick, and dying.
Though I was not aware of it, springtime's buds were pushing up through the winter snows even as I lay dying. The first of these was already flourishing -- I had begun a regular yoga practice in early 2005, and continued with it during even the darkest days. Then there was the little matter of a chance, spur-of-the-moment decision to start eating an orange every day, something I stuck with, and which grew into a total revision of diet, which has been one of the four big changes that have entirely revolutionized the life of my sunset years.
The establishment of yoga as an integral part of a new life along with dietary changes were soon joined by smoking cessation. I'd reached the point where I physically couldn't handle another one, so I slapped on a patch and stopped. It was difficult, and there were relapses as time went by, but these tended only to strengthen the initial resolve.
It wasn't until this year that I realized I'd been reborn, as a single yogi, an abstainer, living on a mostly-vegetarian diet, heavy on fruit. I came to a sudden understanding of the meaning of the phrase "born again," although not the same understanding that fundamentalist Christians have of it.
"And how is it that a man be born again?" they asked. He must die first is the obvious answer.
This rebirth can occur at any age. Just ask the old man living in a tin shack near you.
2 comments:
my diet is mostly fruit with most of the remaining being vegetables. I only eat grains, the most palatable one, oatmeal, during the scarcity of the winter. Grains aren't a natural human food, though.
Can you imagine our primate ancestors collecting all those tiny seeds, removing the chaff, grinding them, and finally cooking them? It is not surprising modern humans have digestive and metabolic diseases. The indigenous Americans used to add lye to corn to compensate for the human incompatibility somewhat.
I do eat some brown rice and barley, too. I try to eat a couple spoons of raw flaxseed meal daily, too. Also a half to one ounce of salmon and a spoon of roasted soy flour with simultaneously roasted garbanzo bean flour added in. Only whole grains, ever.
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