Passing the time. Part 4

Passing the time

Part 4: Back to consider again if it really would be a bad thing if life went on forever.

Let’s return to the idea of our physical lives needing to be limited by death to give them meaning, for I am not sure that this is true. Certainly, linked to my experience by the sunny window this morning, I seem to be claiming that the experience of the moment is a timeless one, and so, perhaps, it would be possible to live forever without succumbing to terminal boredom.

Here I am, exulting in the morning sunshine of a Spring day, rejoicing in both the experience and my understanding of the experience as signifying the return of Spring and the journey to the longest day. I am 63 years old, and, God willing, I have another 20 or more Springs still to see. Although the world will turn back again to head into darkness, a new Spring will arrive next year, and I hope to be there to see it. However, when I greeted the Spring when I was 21 years old, I had an additional 42 Springs to enjoy than I do now. However, my experience of the Spring when I was 21 was not affected by my sense of, “Wow, this is Spring, and I have another 42 of them to come, and then who knows how many after that”. Instead, my experience of the joy of the Spring was of a moment of timeless bliss, exactly as it was for me this morning. My experience is not, in fact, determined by the sense of a storyline that gets its meaning from ending in the finality of death; it gets its meaning from the fullness of the moment. The idea in Derren Brown’s book is that, if we knew deep down that our life is going to go on forever then our faculties for revelling in beauty, joy and goodness would decay into dust and this morning I would have said, “Pah, not another Spring; how boring”.

There are important questions to consider. Having reached the age of 62, I felt it was OK for me to retire and devote myself to existential experiences such as listening to the birdsong, looking at clouds, being a friend. I don’t feel I need to “do” anything in the life of the world such as find a partner, have achievements at work, make my mark on the world – because I feel I’ve done that and am pleased with what I’ve done. So, I am now free to revel in the sun coming up on a Spring morning. But suppose, human beings typically lived to 120 years and retired at 90. Presumably I would think – and if I did not then others might suggest it to me: “It’s a bit odd isn’t it – retiring at 62; don’t you want to do something with your life before you put your feet up?” I reckon I would agree with this and consider, “OK, I think I’d like a new career, I’ll have a go at doing something different for 20 or 30 years”. Then I suppose at the age of 90 I would retire and listen to the birdsong.

But what if we lived till we were 220 years, or 1000 years? Would we really be able to maintain our interest in what we’re doing, and our passion for life? And if we could not do this for 1000 years, how will we do it for all eternity in heaven? So, there is still much to consider.