The Last Appointment (a “long lost” Saturday post) June 5, 2023

Pardon me as I catch up on some “long lost” posts. It looks like the first Saturday I missed in 2021 was June 5^th. So, here is the “long lost” post related to Saturday, June 5^th. My apologies for the delay. It is the second of three posts (so far) dedicated to Bill Moyers (and the first of two being posted for the first time). You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra   (at) ajoyfulpractice.com. TRIGGER WARNING: This post is a philosophical exploration of death.

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“Still; all that close throng
Of spirits waiting, as I,
For the message.
Prompt me, God;
But not yet. When I speak,
Though it be you who speak
Through me, something is lost.
The meaning is in the waiting.”

– quoted from the poem “Kneeling” by R. S. Thomas

Most physical practices of yoga conclude with Śavāsana (“Seat of the Corpse” or Dead Man’s Pose). I often refer to it as the final pose, even though it’s more like the penultimate pose – if you don’t count the fact that we usually roll over into a “recovery pose” before we sit up and seal in the practice (in which case it’s the third to last pose). I don’t do them often, but I especially appreciate practices where there is more than one moment to lie down and be still. On the flip side, I know people who say they only come for Śavāsana. Then there are those people who habitually skip Śavāsana (not because they can’t lie down on their backs, but because they don’t like the stillness and the silence). How ever you look at it, though, there is symbolism in the practice and so that moment, lying in stillness, is an important part of the practice for several reasons. Some people say it is THE most important part of the practice. It’s a moment to rest and digest what we’ve done/accomplished. It also marks the “death” of our practice. It’s a moment when we let go of everything we’ve done and everything we could have done. It is also, depending on your beliefs, a moment of waiting.

Waiting… for what comes next.

We can get super metaphysical, religious, and/or spiritual about what comes next. Since the Yoga Philosophy comes to us by way of India, we could even get into the fact that – for someone who believes in reincarnation – Śavāsana marks an ending and a beginning. Or, we can just stick to the simplest reality, which is that what comes next is this present moment, right here and right now, or… no more moments (at least as we know them). Those options are a great starting point for meditation. So, bring your awareness to this present moment and, on another existential level, bring your awareness to how you’re engaging the gift that is this present moment.

ATHA [Sanskrit] – Here or Now, often used at the beginning of a story or sacred text, such as Patanjali’s Yoga Sūtras, to indicate an “auspicious moment” and a beginning that is the culmination of previous trainings, teachings, moments, and/or preparation.

Saying that that we call it the “present” (in English), because it is a gift may be one of those trite, pithy sayings that some people are sick of hearing. But, the statement is also a reminder that this time we have been given is not promised. It’s also a reminder that, once it’s gone, we never get it back. There will never be a moment like this exact moment. Even if you do something more than once, it’s never exactly the same – if for no other reason than that you’ve done it before and that, in and of itself, makes things different: your brain is different, your experiences are different. You are different. So, as trite as the statement may be, it can bring awareness to how we spend our time.

In the Yoga Sūtras, Patanjali spent a lot of time talk about how the mind works and how we can work the mind. His treatise can help us understand the sheer power of the mind/brain, the power of the mind-body-spirit connection, and how we can use all of that power to alleviate three-fold suffering (physical, mental, and spiritual). Of course, to really understand how everything comes together, we have to understand the nature of our suffering. So, just as the Buddha would do, Patanjali sketched out a road map to – and away from – suffering. This road map moves through five afflicted/dysfunctional thought patterns, beginning with avidyā (“ignorance”) and leading straight to abhiniveśaḥ (which is often translated as “fear of death/loss”). In truth, that last afflicted/dysfunctional thought pattern is literally a desire for and attachment to this life we are living, even when/though it is a life of suffering. While avidyā is the bedrock of the thoughts and behaviors that lead to suffering, abhiniveśaḥ is the culmination and the fruit. Or, you can think of it as the end.

Yoga Sūtra 2.9: svarasavāhī viduṣo‘pi tathārūḍho’bhiniveśaḥ

– “Fear of death carries its own essence and rides [the consciousness] of even the wise.”

An alternate variation of Yoga Sūtra 2.9: svarasavāhī viduṣo ‘pi samārūḍho ‘bhiniveśaḥ

– “Flowing through its own nature, and established even in the learned, is the clinging to life.”

Ah, yes, Death.

It’s interesting to note that there are (at least) two different variations of this sūtra (in Sanskrit) and that the translations and commentaries from various scholars range from an emphasis on the fear to an emphasis on the clinging/attachment and from an emphasis on death to an emphasis on life. In either case, there are two consistent factors: (1) things change and (2) it is human nature not to like change. The subtext, of course, is that no matter how wise you are; how learned you how are; how rich, powerful, and/or beautiful you are, you have an appointment with Death. We all do. In fact, it doesn’t matter if we have a digital calendar, an analog calendar, or if we just keep events in your head, it is our final appointment.

Ancient philosophers, like Patanjali and the Buddha, are not the only ones who have contemplated this final appointment. Modern philosophers, anthropologists, psychiatrists, and teachers, like those interviewed the 2003 documentary Flight from Death: The Quest for Immortality, have also considered our relationship with this final appointment. In fact, the documentary focused on research showing how the very human fear of death manifests as xenophobic behaviors that mirror the two different translations of Yoga Sūtra 2.9. Even subtle reminders, like this blog post, can cause some people to cling to those they love and cause others to lash out (sometimes violently) at those they perceive as being different from them. Overt, violent, and/or unexpected reminders can produce extreme manifestations of these two types of behavior.

Storytellers from many different cultures have played around with the idea that we can escape (or reschedule) death. Every year during Diwali, I tell the story of the clever wife who saves her husband from Yama (in the guise of a snake) by lighting up the bedroom and singing songs and telling stories all night. It is similar to the story of Scheherazade, who tells the king 1,000 stories over 1,001 nights in order to save her own life. Another very popular variation on this theme is the story of a servant (or sometimes it’s a business person or a rich and powerful person) who tries to escape when their in the marketplace and they see Death making a threatening gesture. Only later, the reader learns, Death was just shopping (or, perhaps, there for someone else) and was simply startled because they didn’t expect to the servant until another time… and in another place.

There’s no escaping it. In fact, from the moment we are born and take our first breath, we are on a journey towards death and our last breath. We just don’t know when it’s going to happen. Would you want to know? Would knowing change the way you handled your other “appointments” or the manner in which you engage other people you encounter?

For some, the answer to the first question is absolutely not. Still, there’s no denying that having a time limit, as it were, will change some behaviors. Just thinking about the possibility causes some people to metaphorically stop living and causes others to live each day as if it is their last – even though, in most cases, they “know” that it is not and so there’s a little cognitive dissonance there. For those, however, who would like to know the date and time of their last appointment, there’s a yoga sūtra for that.

Yoga Sūtra 3.23: sopakramaṃ nirupakramaṃ ca karma tatsaṃyamādaparāntajñānamariṣñebhyo vā

– “Karma is of two kinds — soon to come to fruition and late to come to fruition. By making Samyana on these, or by the signs called Arishta, portents, the Yogis know the exact time of separation from their bodies.”

Remember, karma is a Sanskrit word that means “work,” “effort,” or “action.” It refers to everything we think, say, and do, as well everything we experience. Or, more accurately, it refers to everything we thought, said, did, and experienced. Because, unlike kriya – which is similarly translated into English – karma specifically refers to the effect of work/effort/action completed in the past. Hence, we often think of karma as a seed that has been planted. It can take root, it can blossom, and it can grow – regardless of if it results in a fruit tree, a root vegetable, a shade true, a flower, a bush, or an unsightly weed. The key here is to remember that not everything grows the same way and/or at the same rate. Some things are like the Chinese bamboo tree. Other things are like night-blooming jasmine or cherry blossoms.

If we look at the idea of karma from the perspective of reincarnation, then our actions in this lifetime determine our next lifetime. If we look at it through the lens of some Abrahamic religious traditions, then our actions in this lifetime determine if we go to heaven or “hell” or some form of purgatory. More often than not, I tend to look at karma through a more immediate lens – that is to say, how have our past actions determined this present moment and how do our actions in this present moment inform our future moments? According the Yoga Sūtra 3.16, if we apply samyama – the combined force of focus plus concentration plus meditation – to three kinds of changes, we gain knowledge of the past and the future. By that same token, if we apply samyama to certain signs (related to our actions), we will know the exact moment of our death. Again, you could look at this in relation to past lives and reincarnation; however, it is much easier to grasp Patanjali’s intention when we focus on the here and now, this present moment.

Go deeper still and you will find that the things to which we must pay attention are specifically “warning signs.” The instruction in Yoga Sūtra 3.23 is to focus-concentrate-meditate on signs of something bad, calamitous, distressing, wretched, and even evil. In some ways it’s like the ancient version of “if you see something, say something.” So, in the natural world, we could look at things that don’t grow as expected; scavengers that circle around dying prey; flooding; and/or draught. Patanjali, though, was emphasizing contemplation and introspection that leads to how we show up in the world. It’s “when you see something, do something.” In other words, turn inward and notice how some of your thoughts, words, deeds, and experiences are signs and/or roots of demise, decay, suffering, and destruction. Again, turn inward in order to turn outward.

“I’ve always been interested in the relations of mind and body, growing up as I did in a culture that separated them distinctly. In science class we studied the material world, which we expected would someday be understood and predicted down to the last molecule. In philosophy we studied models of reality, based on the rational mind, that took no notice of conditions male and female, sick and well, rich and poor. And then in church we learned that we would someday take off this body as we might a suit of clothes and live as disembodied souls. Yet every day in this divided world of mind and body, our language betrayed our limitations of our categories.”

– quoted from the “Introduction” of Healing and the Mind by Bill Moyers (Editor, Betty Sue Flowers; Executive Editor, David Grubin; Art Research, Elizabeth Meryman-Brunner)

Ideally, we are all living life in a way that reflects our beliefs. The reality, however, is that we sometimes compromise our beliefs because our actions contradict them and/or because our fear of failure – which can manifest in a lot of different ways – freezes us in limbo. It can happen in the most subtle and insidious ways: We hang around someone who is constantly saying, “I don’t know,” (even when they do); then we get in the habit of saying, “I don’t know,” (even when we do); and suddenly we find we have abdicated our own expertise and given up our opportunities. Somehow, being reminded that we have a limited amount of time in these mind-bodies, flips the script. We start thinking about our legacy and how we will be remembered. We start re-aligning our mind-body-spirit and our thoughts, words, and deeds.

Think about it: What would you do (or not do) if you knew you only had a day, a week, a month, or a year or two? Yes, of course, some time would be spent coming to grips with the change in your circumstances – or, really, the change in your awareness of your circumstances. At some point you would go through all, some, or most of the stages of grief – maybe more than once. But, then what? Does knowing how much (or how little) time we have with our mind-body change the way we engage our mind-body? It must, right? I mean, for most people, that sense of urgency creates a shift in priorities. But, when (or how) does the general awareness of our temporal nature change the way we spend our time? When or how do we live as if we are dying? Do we only cherish our lives when we are confronted with death?

Questions about life and death, faith and reason, and the stories we tell about our lives and our beliefs inevitably come up when people talk to Bill Moyers, who was born in Hugo Oklahoma on June 5, 1934. Primarily raised in Marshall, Texas, Bill Moyers is more than a journalist. He is also an ordained minister who served as the 13^th White House Press Secretary (working with both Presidents John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson). Along with his wife, Judith Suzanne Davidson Moyers, he has produced a variety of programming, including Joseph Campbell and the Power of Myth (filmed on George Lucas’s Skywalker Ranch, in 1988); The Mythology of Star Wars, with George Lucas (also filmed at Skywalker Ranch, in 1999); Faith and Reason; and Healing and the Mind. He has also produced and facilitated conversations about a wide range of topics, including evil, racism, prayer, democracy, poetry, art, and the experiences of U. S. Supreme Court Associate Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg. His many books include Listening to America: A Traveler Rediscovers His Country, A World of Ideas : Conversations With Thoughtful Men and Women About American Life Today and the Ideas Shaping Our Future, A World of Ideas II: Public Opinions from Private Citizens, The Language of Life (which is a conversation with poets), Genesis: A Living Conversation, and the book based on the series Healing and the Mind.

Intimacy and vulnerability are two of the beautiful and amazing attributes found in Bill Moyers work. For example, in the introduction to the book Healing and the Mind, he wrote about the seemingly contradictory things he grew up hearing, his brother’s death, the way his father reacted to his brother’s death, and the way he (Bill Moyers) reacted to his father’s reaction. What he shared highlighted the mind-body connection and explained his own fascination with the power of that connection. His observations and insights can be a jumping off point for anyone who wants to explore their own connection to life, death, healing, living, and dying, as well as their connections to other people.

“All my life I’ve prayed the Lord’s Prayer, but I’ve never prayed, ‘Give me this day my daily bread.’ It is always, ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’ Bread and life are shared realities. They do not happen in isolation.”

– from “Pass the Bread,” baccalaureate address at Hamilton College (20 May 2006), as quoted in “Moyers on Democracy” by Bill Moyers

Lots of people have had different views and philosophies about the best way to live (and even the best way to live while dying). The ancient stoics believed in acknowledging what was, in any given moment; accepting their circumstances; and then making the most of the situation. Modern stoicism has interpreted this to mean that one should stuff down and/or ignore their emotions, but that often leads to mental and emotional instability. On the flip side, old-fashioned stoicism emphasized being content, happy, even joyful (depending on what that means to you in this moment) within a given fate. To be “independently happy,” requires philosophical and emotional stability that supports your through anything. It requires a foundation of faith that can be applied to any situation. On a certain level, it requires a story – a certain kind of “healing story,” as Matthew Sanford calls them,” which is a story that makes sense of every situation within which we find ourselves.

As a society, as communities, and as individuals, we all have stories that bring us comfort, especially in challenging and troubling times, and we use those stories to make sense of the world (especially in challenging and troubling times). Our stories explain why we do the things we do or don’t do the things we don’t do. Our stories are the way our brains create certainty where there is uncertainty, reason when there seems to be no reason. Since most people fear the unknown, and fear can be our strongest (and most motivating) emotion, our stories create something known out of the unknown. Philosophy, religion, science are all different ways that we tell these stories. Sometimes, we even have stories about not having stories – or not believing someone else’s stories.

“When my brother died in 1966, my father began a grieving process that lasted almost twenty-five years. For all that time he suffered from chronic, debilitating headaches. I took him to some of the country’s major medical facilities, but no one could cure him of his pain. At one point during that ongoing search for a help, a doctor tried to teach him that his headaches were somehow related to his grief. But my father persisted in treating his pain exclusively as a medical problem, and the headaches continued to torment him.”

– quoted from the “Introduction” of Healing and the Mind by Bill Moyers (Editor, Betty Sue Flowers; Executive Editor, David Grubin; Art Research, Elizabeth Meryman-Brunner)

The details may be different; however, we ultimately have the same story that moves through the same cycle or journey. It’s the hero’s journey that Joseph Campbell outlined in books like The Hero with a Thousand Faces and that Bill Moyers discussed with him and with George Lucas during visits to Skywalker Ranch. Part of that journey is fear of the unknown and grief over what the hero(ine) has lost by leaving the “Ordinary World” and “Crossing the Threshold” (both coming and going). Another part of the of the journey is the “Apotheosis,” which is a moment of death. This can be a physical death and a period of time where the protagonists “lives in spirit” or it can be the death of one’s ego. It is a divine state of being, a moment infused with knowledge, love, compassion, and bliss – which, through the existential philosophy lens, is the exact opposite of the lives we are currently living… the very state of being to which we cling with all of our being.

Moving beyond the “Apotheosis” results in receiving/earning the “Ultimate Boon” and marks the beginning of the end of the journey. Once we reach this point in our story, it is time to return to the “Ordinary World.” Only, when we return, everything is different; we are different. As Patanjali points out in the Yoga Sūtra 2.20-2.26, once we realize certain things, we cannot un-see them; once we reach a certain point in our practice, we achieve great powers (the siddhis) and attain a previously unexperienced freedom. This freedom is freedom from ignorance and freedom from suffering, which means it is also freedom from fear.

How would you spend your time if you were fearless? How would you live your life? What risks would you take? What risks would not make sense? How would you treat your mind-body and the mind-bodies around you?

Note that while there are certain individuals in society who are described as having no conscience – and, therefore, no fear – these individuals are not concerned with moral and/or ethical consequences. They only focus on cause and effect as it relates to “winning” or besting someone. This is not wholesome, skillful, or functional. In fact, it is the exact opposite. Remember, the hero’s “Ultimate Boon” is not only something that serves the individual who achieves/earns it, it is something that serves their whole community.

“Our very lives depend on the ethics of strangers, and most of us are always strangers to other people.”

– Bill Moyers

Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “06052021 The Last Appointment”]

I normally take a different path on this date (but it is the same journey). Or, click here for my 2022 post “The Journey Continues…”

“[At the Institute of Medicine at the National Academy of Sciences] Experts in the field of endocrinology, immunology, neuroscience, psychology, psychiatry, and epidemiology gathered to compare notes, findings, and doubts. Why is it, they wondered, that about 60 percent of the outpatient visits to primary care physicians are related to stress or mind/body interactions? That perhaps one in five primary care visits are attributable ‘to major depressive anxiety disorders’? I read of one such meeting where a notable declared that ‘if this were a medical disorder that wasn’t being diagnosed or treated, the situation would be regarded as scandalous.”

– quoted from the “Introduction” of Healing and the Mind by Bill Moyers (Editor, Betty Sue Flowers; Executive Editor, David Grubin; Art Research, Elizabeth Meryman-Brunner)

### “Your life is now / in this undiscovered moment” ~ JM  ###