What We Want by Linda Pastan What we want is never simple. We move among the things we thought we wanted: a face, a room, an open book and these things bear our names— now they want us. But what we want appears in dreams, wearing disguises. We fall past, holding out our arms and in the morning our arms ache. We don't remember the dream, but the dream remembers us. It is there all day as an animal is there under the table, as the stars are there
What do we want? I mean what do we want for our lives? What is important? Human beings continually ask themselves: How am I supposed to live? It’s a religious question and many religions will provide you with an answer. Unitarian Universalism will give you an answer too, but the answer comes in the form of further questions. What is important? How do you think you should live? What do you want to leave after death?
The beginnings of my answer come in the last lines of a poem by Mary Oliver, When Death Comes: When it's over I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. When it's over, I don't want to wonder if I have made of my life A something particular, and real. I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument. I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
And more questions arise for me: What does it mean to make of my life something particular and real? What does it mean not simply to have visited this world? Each of us must find our own answers of course but it’s very helpful to have some guideposts along the way. Today I want to explore the questions by looking at two men whose experiences with imminent death inspired them to consider what they really thought and felt and believed about how to live their lives. While their answers might, or might not, be ours, they do inspire us with their courage and clarity. I present their thoughts as I understand them and I have arranged them for my own greater perception and growth. Any misrepresentation of either person lies in my unskillfulness of expression.
The Reverend Dr. Forrest Church, currently minister of Public Theology at All Souls Unitarian Universalist Church in New York City, received a terminal cancer diagnosis more than a year ago. In response he wrote a book, Love and Death, in which he laid out his answers to the question, “What is important?” (All of today’s Forrest Church quotes come from that book.) Randy Pausch, who died in July 2008 of pancreatic cancer, Unitarian Universalist, professor o f Computer Science at Carnegie Mellon University, gave a famous lecture, called “Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams,” also known as “The Last Lecture,” in which he too shared an answer to the question “How should we live our lives?” (Pausch’s thoughts come from the filmed version of that lecture, which I downloaded from the Carnegie Mellon website.) Each presents a thoughtful and authentic message, a hearty table from which we might take nourishment.
When death comes closer to us we find out whether or not we believe what we thought we believed about life and death. We find out whether our theology has enough strength to carry us through. It will help us to live if we take the time now to figure out and articulate what we believe. What is death? What happens after we die? What are my fears about dying?
The first answer to the question What is important? is, then, take the time now to figure it out and keep re-visiting your conclusions. Forrest Church reminds us: “Theology might begin at the tomb’s door -- the specter of death prompting reflection on what life means -- but surely no revelation is more compelling or worth pondering than that of a newborn infant emerging from its mother’s womb. . . . Theology’s heartbeat is the miracle of our own existence. This miracle encompasses both birth and death. To this miracle, we must each do everything in our human power to awaken. . . . Religious=2 0experience springs from two primary sources, awe and humility.” I think I might add curiosity to that list.
Answer #2: Love and connections with others are among the most important things. You do not need a partner to have love in your life. You do not need a nuclear family. Love can exist anywhere if we will tend to it. Again, from Forrest Church. “Religion is our human response to the dual reality of being alive and having to die. . . . Death is not life’s goal, only life’s terminus. The goal is to live in such a way that our lives will prove worth dying for. This is where love comes into the picture. The one thing that can’t be taken from us, even by death, is the love we give away before we go.”
And yes, love will cause us pain. An open heart will sometimes be a grieving heart as joy and sorrow are intertwined, each one making possible the existence of the other. In remembering the death of his father, and the sense of living on borrowed time, Forrest writes: “Few of us are unafraid of death. Death is the ultimate mystery. But there is a way to counter this fear. It lies in our courage to love. Our courage to risk. Our courage to lose. Many people have said it in different ways. The opposite of love is not hate. It is fear.”
How do we lead lives of love? How do we liberate ourselves from the grip of fear? Answer #3a: Perspective born of experience and made useful th rough self-reflection helps us to hold onto our openness even in the midst of fear. When my mother died I was afraid to grieve because I feared the grief would swallow me up and I would never emerge from it. I had not experienced such a great loss before. So I held it in; I told myself to get over it, to go on with life. Until one day the dam broke and the tears flooded me. And you know what? They did not drown me. They did stop. The intensity of pain did lessen. It ebbed and flowed like the tide. Oh, it came back, but it also went away. And I learned that I would live through loss; I could live through grief. I was never as afraid of it again. I learned I could live within and out of my places of vulnerability.
How do we lead lives of love? Answer #3b: Awareness of what we think, what we do and our effect on others. Are we getting what we want from our living? Are we happy? Pay attention to what our bodies and our emotions tell us. If, in our lives, the connections, the purpose, the meaning, the love seem lacking, then we need to find out why. What’s going on with us? What pockets of pain need to be assuaged; what coping mechanisms modified; what attitudes and expectations questioned; what hurts forgiven? We can use those pockets of vulnerability within ourselves to help us understand and even connect with other people, who have painful pockets of their own. Forrest Church calls this redemption, which I understand him to=2 0mean taking our own sense of insecurity, unhappiness, suffering and, rather than following them into self-absorption, using them for the sake of greater compassion, greater connection and love. In his words: “The courage we need comes before, when we face our own demons or reach out across a great divide to touch hands. It is life work not death work . . .”
Which leads us to answer #4: Take care of unfinished business. Church says: “What I’m talking about here, by the way, is salvation. . . .Being an agnostic about the afterlife, I look for salvation here -- not to be saved from life, but to be saved by life, in life, for life. Such salvation has three dimensions: integrity, or individual wholeness, comes when we make peace with ourselves; reconciliation, or shared wholeness, comes when we make peace with our neighbors, especially with our loved ones; redemption, in the largest sense, comes when we make peace with life and death, with being itself, with God.” (Or however you understand and name that which is ongoing life.) “. . . when we do die the same questions will be wafting in the air. Did we take what God gave us and make the most of it? Did we overcome adversity when hard times came? Did we love our neighbor as ourselves? Perhaps especially this. And did we make the world a more loving and interesting place? . . . Could we be the grace that placed itself where lives were torn apart? I have to think so.”
Randy Pau sch, in his “Last Lecture,” takes on the question of How should we live our lives? How do we make the most of ourselves, love our neighbors, overcome adversity, make the world more loving and interesting? His answers point to some specifics, yet all of the specifics enliven what Forest Church has suggested is important. Pausch, a professor in his 40’s, gave this talk and found in it a way to reflect upon his life, undoubtedly for himself as he prepared for death, but also to leave some wisdom and advice for his young children. As an extra benefit, he left us something to ponder as well.
“ . . . all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.” Live with imagination, he says. Break the mold. Never lose a sense of wonder. Have fun. What’s more, enable the imagination of others. When he was a boy Pausch wanted to be an imagineer. Do you know what that is? Imaginers are people who imagine and design immersive themed experiences. Imagineers designed Disneyland. Imagineers imagine. Imagineers have the know-how to bring into being that which they imagine. In her Berry Street lecture last year at General Assembly, the Reverend Christine Robinson called ministers imagineers of the soul. Maybe we are all imagineers of our lives. May we liberate our curiosity.
Secondly, and related to imagineering, Pausch counsels us to work hard, be prepared and to find what we excel at. Take it s eriously, tell the truth and apologize when we mess up. Luck waits at the intersection of opportunity and preparation. Dedicate yourself to your goals and develop persistence in staying at the table. Brick walls can serve as tests of how much we want something. Experience, he jokes, is what we get when we don’t get what we want. Experience is vital. Learning is everywhere.
Can you think of a time when you did not get what you wanted but the very turn of events that disappointed you offered unexpected opportunities? When I applied to seminary I wanted very much to attend our UU seminary in California, Starr King School for the MInistry. I got in, but I could not figure out a way to move from New York City to Berkeley and support myself with a six year old child to boot. I knew I couldn’t go, but I felt so very disappointed. Then, on the last night before the start of classes I walked into New York Theological Seminary, just for information. They admitted me on the spot and I began one of the most formative and growth producing experiences of my life. Persist on the path toward your goals, but make sure the path is wide enough to accommodate twists and turns. We don’t know what opportunities will come our way; our task is to remain open to them.
Throughout his lecture Randy Pausch displayed abundant and heartfelt generosity toward those who had influenced him, worked with him, helped him, even thwarted him. He noted with love and a self-deprecating humor, the parents, mentors, teachers, colleagues, friends and students who had served as models for him. How should we live our lives? With humility and gratitude and generosity. He counsels us to have faith in other people, that sooner or later they will surprise and impress us. He counsels us to believe in other people and to pay attention to the feedback they give us, both verbal and non-verbal, especially non-verbal. Loyalty is a two way street. He counsels us to help others. To become self-reflective and to support others in becoming so.
More than his stated advice though, Randy Pausch taught with his actions. Terminally ill in the prime of his career, with a wife and two small children, he managed, not only to make lemonade out of the lemons handed him, but to make lemonade and offer that delicious drink to us. In the face of death he gracefully continued to offer his gifts to other people in a funny, good humored, clear and comprehensive way. This lecture told us a fair amount about his life, but somehow it was not all about him. At the same time it presented a man who lived with integrity, in that he found a way to do what he loved while encouraging and supporting other people. He worked hard and he laughed a lot.
We learn from our role models, sometimes more from what they do than what they say. Forrest Church approaches his death with a candor, a clarity and a peace that inspires. Randy Pausch approached the world with imaginative creativity and he, seemingly, approached his death in the same way. May such gifts be ours.
So, what’s important? How do we not end up “simply having visited this world?” Inspired by Forrest Church and Randy Pausch, I’ve tried to present a snapshot of both their thoughts and the examples their lives provide. But what’s important is that each one of us takes these questions and finds our own authentic answers to them.
How do we make of our lives “something particular and real?” I don’t have a formula for how to live. I can only list qualities and attributes and ethical values that I think are important and you have already heard any number of these. Remaining faithful to them is how to live, but how that plays out cannot be prescribed. I can say that I want to live as the best, most integrated, healthy and whole self I am at any given moment. When I do it I’m real; I’m particular. The commitment to do this, made long ago, is a commitment to myself and to other people because my best self invariably gives itself to life.
We live relationally in three dimensions and it is important to be alive in each of them: in our relationship with ourselves; in our relationship with others; in our relationship with whatever we believe to be ultimate, call it God, energy, Spirit, life, nature, whatever. A little more specifically, this means figuring out what we believe in and rely on and finding a way to regularly practice our spirituality while leaving enough room for it to change; it means building widening circles of love and connection; it means repeatedly taking care of unfinished business. All of these rest upon the bedrock of awareness, of paying attention, of being present to life so that we can participate in it. This is the practice of mindfulness. The eyes of our eyes are opened; the ears of our ears are awake. When I come to die I hope I can do it with as much courage and grace as Randy Pausch and Forrest Church. But really, it’s all in the living, isn’t it?