Passion of Life

A young lady [presumably a freshie in terms of dance background] was practising pirouttes [turns] with us.

We were still in the initial stages of basic turns when the next thing I heard was *plop plop* sounds of soft substances falling onto the studio floor.

Yes indeed, our young lady has just puked.

The trainer was shocked momentarily because never in his life had he seen a dance trainee puked just from doing basic turns.

Never had I either.

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Current Physical Condition - 70 year old suffering from osteoarthritis or more commonly known as degenerative arthritis

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Read a blog from a lady named Grace Chow who is suffering from terminal illness termed chordoma tumour found at the base of her skull.

Background - Chordomas are tumors originating from embryonic remnants of the primitive notochord. Since chordomas lie in bone, they are usually extradural and induce bone destruction. [Paule Peretti, MD,Assistant Professor, Department of Neuroradiology, Timone Hospital of Marseilles, France]

Frequency - Chordomas are rare tumors with an estimated incidence of 0.51 cases per million. Even more rare for patients younger than 30 years. Grace was 29 when she was diagnosed with the disease.


Now I'm not going to delve too much into her condition, if you wish to know more about her you can get her book which is her legacy at her website.


What touched me was her courage in accepting death for what it is, please allow me to quote something from her blog,

"Learning to live should also mean that you learn to die,
that you assume absolute mortality as the basis,
and learn to accept it,
without expectation of salvation,
hope for recovery,
or delivery for yourself or for another.
The classical philosophical exhortation since Plato:
to philosophise is to learn to die"

Jacques Derrida - French Philosopher


What disturbed me though, is the fact that most people get inspired only when they are faced with major trials and tribulations.

Have we become so besotted with our mundane activities of work, wine & women [or weenie for women viewers, whatever] that nothing inspires the passion in our lives anymore?

Are we no different from the hibernation of six feet under?

Robin Williams once quoted 'Carpe Diem!' in the movie Dead Poets Society and that phrase has been so deeply imprinted in me that till today I live my life with a rentless passion that simply ignores the possible fatigue which plagues my constant whining body.

I would rather have the words "A man of passion whose demise lies determined by the level of fatigue which timed his final rest" inscribed onto my concrete epilogue.

I believe Grace was having the exact same thoughts.

But what determines the difference between a person of passion and one who simply lives through the day like there is no tomorrow? For what so numbs the mind that is capable of wondrous music that charms fairies, build airborne wonders and connects information via electronic signals that makes the world shrink in virtual distances?

Is it the repitition of exact movements? Is it the self-limiting perspective one stands by irregardless of the possible ecstacy one might experience? Or is it simply an extinguished flame of desire for all matters of knowledge - technical or academic otherwise?

Or is it simply a refusal to experience come what may for fear that with happiness, comes pain & suffering & society's refusal?

Grace was feeling lonely - not in the sense she was alone physically but in the sense she was experiencing a very rare medical condition and she felt so helpless in terms of guidance, emotional sharing and physical abilities.

Would you still carry on being passionate despite knowing you might face loneliness? That you could be alone in your cause? What sets the difference between original passion and blind fanaticism?

Please excuse while I take a nap. I am too, feeling very tired.