There’s nothing like an early evening chat about death to keep you up all night.  Last night in the Zen group that I regularly sit with we talked about death or as Zen folk like to call it, “The Great Matter”.  Leading the chat was our Zen priest—a man in his 50’s.   He kicked off his talk by describing a period in his 30’s when he was extremely fit and vital.  At that time no matter how hard he tried he did not actually believe that he would ever die.  In fact, he believed that everyone else was going to die but him.

Men and women.  We are different.  Never before has that difference been so clearly highlighted to me as it was last night. I am in my 30’s right now and unlike the younger version of our Zen priest, I deeply believe in my own mortality.  I believe in it because unlike my male peers, I am currently being treated to a sneak preview of my own death via the imminent death of my reproductive system.

This experience is a key difference between men and women.  Even though I am younger than the man who was giving the talk he will continue to have the ability to create life for decades longer than me. The knowledge that my body is closing up shop and potentially abandoning me to be a Darwinian zero is both harrowing and freeing. The death of my fertility terrifies me because this body transition is forcing me to comprehend the limited scope of my own life.  On the other hand, knowledge of these changes in my body frees me because it doesn’t matter how much I work out, how long I meditate or how much organic food I eat–A part of my body, actually the key part of my body, is quietly dying, that is if it is not dead already.  This change helps me to understand that no matter what I do:  I will age, I will get weak and I will die.

This is kind of a strange and morbid Baby cliff post, but I guess that’s what happens when we talk about “The Great Matter”.  Things get a little darker…or lighter.