The Road to Myself



 
 By Lee Chung-gil, D.V.M., Ph.D., Professor Emeritus, CNU


 
  Born to a farmer and raised for most of my early years in a small village near Naju, Jeollanam-do, I started my freshman life at Chonnam National University in 1959. After completing post?graduate studies in 1969 I became a member of the university staff. Yet time passed on swift wings and the retirement age, 65, was upon me in February 2007. During all that time, my university life was interrupted for only four and a half years when I undertook my compulsory military service as an interpreter with the Korean Army.


  To be close to my family, I retired to Albuquerque, New Mexico. The experience was life changing for me. The first thing I had to learn was to be alone. Ultimately, we are

all alone anyway; the isolation is often imposed by geography, language, or poor communication systems. It was not long before I realized that the time when I have hardly anything to do is the most precious gift for me. Because of solitude, my only new experience was that of aging. Therefore, I decided to learn how to age with dignity and how to make my post-retirement years useful.


 Retirement gave me a chance to rearrange my priorities. First of all, I had to learn how to live well. Everybody knows we human beings do not live forever. However, as long as we are of sound mind and body, most of us would like to stay on earth for as long as possible. There is a saying that good health is a temporary condition. Fortunately, the new place in which I settled has an altitude of 2,000 meters and is dry, with abundant sunlight most of the year, ideal for walking every day. It has been a joy of mine to be one of the many walkers on the city streets or on the high desert mountain trails. These days, more and more evidence shows that exercise may not only add years to one’s life but also delay the onset of disabilities in one’s golden years. My major concern is to live independently or at least to delay the use of a walking cane for an extra decade or more.

  Determined to enrich my life, I have started to learn more about graciousness. I have learned to suspend judgment. Most of all, I have learned to be humble. Aging necessitates preparing for the end of life. We need to be honest with ourselves and acknowledge that for all of us death is inevitable. The sooner we realize this, the more freedom we will experience. Consequently, I decided not to focus on how I might die, but consider how I should live. Life is fleeting ? you can live a lifetime and, at the end of it, know more about other people than you know about yourself. I wish, most of all, to avoid this.

  When my mind is burdened by the myriad of daily worries, I cannot have good health and so, to avoid these stresses, it has been my aim from my youth to ensure that I tend the garden of my own mind carefully and diligently. Stress is a frame of mind. These days I walk almost every day, and when I take a walk outside, I do not focus on details. I use my senses to pay closer attention to my present environment, which is totally different from that of my hometown, Gwangju. What does the air smell like? What are the sounds and the colors? What are the contours of the clouds? What is happening in the distance? Most of all, I enjoy the fresh air coming down from the majestic Sandia Mountains.

  The atmospheric effects of this new place have led me to have more time to concentrate on my mind. The ability to concentrate is a gift most human beings are rarely born with. In search of this, I take the Lotus Seating Position on a thick carpet and, with closed eyes, place the hands on the knees, palms outwards with three fingers stretched out, the first finger bent so that it lies under the thumb. Within seconds, thoughts tumble into my inner silence. I try not to think about anything in particular, but let my thoughts wander as they will, while breathing in and out, gently and rhythmically. Soon I discover that I am thinking of nothing in particular, in fact, about nothing at all. I am being with myself, feeling lighter, happier and less distracted. My mind has emptied itself and is ready for whatever thoughts I wish to place in it.

  In the emptied mind many questions arise. Where did I come from? Where might I be going? How am I going to get to wherever that is? What can I learn from the past that will help guide me in the future? Am I doing my utmost as a good citizen, parent and neighbor? Can I leave the world a little better than when I came into it? What am I constituted of? Who am I? Most of the time, I try to focus upon the main question, “Who really am I?” for as long as possible, only to find my application to be inconsistent at best. Once it becomes second nature, I am convinced that I will experience inner bliss, a deeply fulfilling sensation of peace, joy and freedom.

  Relaxation is a necessary prerequisite to concentration. The first stages of concentration lead to a withdrawal of all the senses, so that the impulses streaming through the sense organs are so diminished that they become negligible. This induces a sense of physical and mental exhilaration and prepares the mind for the next stage, in which one can merely focus one’s senses on one thought, idea, picture, or object. After this, one can reach the ultimate stage, Samadhi, or a sense of ineffable peace.

  As far as I am concerned, it is the mind training that is of value, and constant meditation will teach you to live life according to higher ideals. My aims are limited: good health, a mind free from worry and inner peace for the rest of my life. I shall keep trying not to lose the advantage of solitude ? the society of myself ? while keeping both body and mind at ease. Surely, old age will treat me gently accordingly.
 

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