A movie was made of Water for Elephants, the novel by Sara Gruen. I saw it and it wasn’t a bad flick but, what hooked me
from the beginning of the book, was the scene in the opening chapter about the
old-folks home where old Janowski lives… (It was left out of the movie: aging seems to be too much a downer for Hollywood). He says,”I used to
think I preferred getting old to the alternative, but now I’m not sure.
Sometimes the monotony of bingo and sing-alongs and ancient dusty people parked
in the hallway in wheelchairs makes me long for death. Particularly when I
remember that I’m one of the ancient dusty people, filed away like some
worthless tchotchke.” If I can’t find any humility in that inevitability I
am doomed to go to the end with nothing left of me but regret and suffering.
I know that in my heart I still
don’t get that particular point. Hell, I’m sixty-two and am only beginning to
grasp the notion that I won’t always be as healthy and brilliant as I am today.
And thirty years ago I never expected to live long enough to be as frail and as
feeble of mind as I am today. Time alone couldn’t suck the pride out of me but
it helps. It is all samsara and, in the words of Chogyam Trungpa, “Renunciation
is realizing that nostalgia for samsara is full of shit.” And I might add,
“…just like one day my Depends will be.”
geo, 4,691
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