Don't let us get sick

 I've recently become enchanted with a song that wasn't familiar to me, but that now is a favorite.  It's by Warren Zevon, and it was written a few years before he died in 2003, too young  I only knew his work through the delightful song "Werewolves of London" and it turns out that delight was a habit for Zevon, who was eccentric and plain speaking.  "Don't Let Us Get Sick" is from an album called "Life'll Kill Ya."

David and I heard the song on an episode of "Resident Alien" -- yet another source of delight -- a tv comedy about an alien who takes on the form of a human being after crash landing on earth and has to learn what it means to be an earthling.  The song has taken on a life of its own for me -- reflecting my own longing, after turning 70 and being sick quite a lot this winter, to avoid the first four of the Five Remembrances:

I am of the nature to grow old; There is no way to escape growing old. 

I am of the nature to have ill health; There is no way to escape having ill health. 

I am of the nature to die; There is no way to escape death. 

All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature of change; There is no way to escape being separated from them. 

My deeds are my closest companions. I am the beneficiary of my deeds; My deeds are the ground on which I stand. 

Zevon sings: "Don't let us get sick; don't let us get old; don't let us be stupid, ok?"

A great mantra for the moment -- it feels so important to accept that all of us want to deny reality, most of the time.  And Zen practice helps us to accept both the reality and the denial, in order to be complete human beings.   And maybe more important -- to not be stupid about it all.