Going on 94, and Still Waking Up

As I’m nearing 94, in December, I’m finding my own relationship to age, sickness, and death has changed. 

When you read about the life of the Buddha, you may get the impression that meditation offers the key to freedom from all suffering. Well, that’s not quite true. And maybe Thich Nhat Hanh put it best when he said, “even after he attained enlightenment, the Buddha suffered. But the difference is, the Buddha knew how to take care of his suffering.” 

Most of us have not fully learned how to take care of our suffering — and so, of course, that makes it worse for us. Through many years, I’ve spent a lot of time pondering aging, sickness, and death. More than just thinking. Actual trainings. In one training with a teacher in Mexico, I spent an entire night observing a corpse as it was decomposing. In other trainings, with master Ajahn Suwat who was visiting America, I spent a couple of months focusing on the inevitability of our physical decline — practicing death awareness (maranasati). Those trainings were extremely helpful to reorient the fears and dread I’d always had on these subjects. And I eventually wrote an entire book on mortality, Living in the Light of Death. 

So, with all my practice, am I honestly now not afraid at all of sickness and death? There’s certainly been tremendous improvement in that for me. To the extent that some people may think because I’ve had all this training, I never suffer. But it’s not true. The suffering doesn’t vanish. 

Those of you practicing, especially when you’re young, please… do it now! Keep at it! Because it’s not just about now. 

But I now know what to do when it happens. And I’ve learned that all the thinking and training is not really the same as what I experience now that I’m really getting on there. Let me explain. In a way, it’s like waking up, going to sleep, waking up, going to sleep. 

Say a pain that I’ve never had before arises, and now I have it. By being awake to it, bringing awareness to it, I can help take care of it, help diminish it. Put in other terms, I wake up to the present moment. And once I look at it, I’m okay. 

But it’s too easy to fall into sleep again — to let the old conditioned mind creep back in with some semblance of fear or concern. (“How much worse will my Parkinsons get?” “The disability today is worse than yesterday.” “Will I ever be able to walk again?“ “Oh no, a new ailment!”) 

Asleep like that, you’re caught up in a past that’s over with or a future that’s never going to be. And more often now, I notice when that happens. And as soon as I see it, the seeing seems to help dissipate the problem and suddenly I’m back to being wakeful again — and okay. There’s no fear in it. 

I still have to deal with aging, sickness and death, but as a practitioner of dharma, I’ve gotten to know what to do to take care of my disabilities. And obviously when the time comes, and I’m very close to death, that will be the true test… maybe my final graduation. We’ll see. 

So, right now, I aspire to staying awake. If there’s anyone who’s awake all the time, good! I’m not that one. (I once asked Krishnamurti, “Krishnaji, are you awake all the time?” And he looked at me and said, “Of course not. I’m still human.”) 

All the years of practice, before my disabilities happened, helped me enormously to get ready for the things I’m confronting now. But many people, as practitioners, don’t develop enough stability of mind as they get older, to be equipped to face the experience of aging, sickness and death. So, those of you practicing, especially when you’re young, please… do it now! Keep at it! Because it’s not just about now. 

When you take care of now, you take care of the future. You can increase the possibility that it will prepare you for what will come — which is for each of us that, at a certain point, we have to say good-bye to all we love. 

And so, my conclusion, at least for today, is that being awake is our path. I feel extremely fortunate in having this practice, because even facing the end, I really don’t feel helpless. I have the ability to take care of myself. And I know it’s possible for others to find the same peace.

Originally published as a September 10 Update to followers of a GoFundMe collecting donations to facilitate at-home health care needed by Larry Rosenberg and his wife Galina. “After a period when Larry was simply not feeling up to it,” reads an introductory paragraph provided by “Team Rosenberg,” “his energy seems to have improved and we’re thrilled to offer new words here that Larry wishes to share with the sangha. They provide a window into how he’s been feeling this summer along with reflections on using his practice to face his challenges.”