Wednesday, May 9, 2012

The Meaning Of Life



MONDAY, MAY 7, 2012
Art Janov's Reflection on The Meaning of Life 

I lost a pal today;  eight years old.  He  died of a tumor around his brainstem.  His mother went everywhere in the world to save him; to no avail.   He was in New York but one day the family came out to join us for a day and I made tacos; not any tacos, mind you, but Janov specials.   And he loved them.  His mother wrote and told me he loved them and I thought: a few moments of pleasure in a very short life.   And so what did that life mean? Will he take that memory of the tacos to the grave?  No he won’t.  The only meaning the taco had was that day and his memories while he was alive.  After that, no meaning at all.  So what was the meaning of his life?  That day and many others that gave him pleasure.  No other meaning, sad as that seems.

Many of us try to get as much as we can out of life, and many people keep traveling and going here and there, off to the jungles or South America to get more out of it.  And secretly they still feel empty; they cannot feel their experience, cannot really experience it, because feeling is meaning and that lies out of reach of so many of us.  Without feeling centers what do sharks get out of life?   No a lot.  Not much meaning. We are feeling mammals; we need to be in contact with that in ourselves.  My pal got as much as he could but he spent most of his life going to Europe to doctors.  He was never told he was dying but he sensed it; and one day after a doctor visit, he asked his mother, “Do they speak English where I’m going?”  Whereupon I crashed, thinking of his agony and his dread. That tiny body riddled with foreboding that no one could take away.  That is what many of us have all of the time; foreboding of a crime foretold and a crime already passed.   And that crime is the pain that settles in so early in so many of us that leaves us with the same foreboding that my pal had; why? because death was in the offing so soon in our lives, at birth and before.  It happened even sooner than what happened to my little pal.  And it was imprinted and remained a force that dogged us. So we travel and go and go, and still that appointment in Summara catches up to us and rings our bell so loudly that we cannot even sleep.  It says “death is hurrying toward us,”  and there is no escape.  That memory is hurtling to our conscious/awareness at warp speed and no matter what we do and where we go, it is unrelenting.  This is a reality in our young innocent lives; death was approaching, strangled on the cord, too much anesthesia, etc.  There was no exit and still isn’t.  It never lets us rest.
  We keep on going very much like my pal, traveling all over Europe to find surcease: a cure.   Alas.  No.  For us the cure is to feel; to retrieve what we lost early on when death was coming toward us.  We can do it now. My pal can’t.






In search of the meaning of Life.

I have for nearly a lifetime been looking for an answer to the “Why” I had epilepsy. It took almost 40 years to find and slowly understand/feel/accept the answer. I have traveled, neurotically, in all directions/dimensions; geographically, culturally, socially, professionally, etc., driven by my pain.

For the first time in 53 years, I met, this week the woman who, as a teenage girl, at three occasions, made an indelible impression on my young teenage mind. Our youthful adventure died before it had started because I got epilepsy and was (chemically) lobotomized, which led me to, initially, change behavior and lose my vitality and confidence.

During the 53 years, which have passed by since we met last time, she has just moved a few times from where we lived as kids, and she has, then, only moved within a circle of 20 miles! She never had an ambition to make a grand career. However, a granddaughter and daughter of two generations of headmasters and university professors, sheer talent and, of course, environmental impact, took her on a lifelong, price winning pedagogue journey at the university institution where she worked and where she during a decade was chairman of the special training of pharmaceutical scientists.

She has read my book about Evolution In Reverse / Demystifying My Epilepsy, and she is one of very few people who has reacted in a positive and sympathetic manner. The book in combination with our conversations has brought up memories and feelings in her about traumatic episodes with her parents. In spite of her background (I honestly want to think: thanks to her background) she is very critical to the doctors’ and psychologists’ ignorant, ruthless and unquestioning use of painkillers and medication supported and applauded by the pharmaceutical industry.

She is as judgmental, as we are, to the fact that doctors and scientists don’t ask “Why” or look for real cures. It is far too much about pain relief instead of cure. She is also very critical to the use of the researchers statistics to hide, dribble away, ignoring deviations, which for the individual patient may lead to interferences and treatments that are harmful. Several areas of research, in her opinion, very severely lack individuals with the necessary holistic approach. There are too many deep, narrow specialists with no contact neither with each other nor with the reality/truth.

Having searched for the meaning of life during 53 years and having been guided by the Primal Principles for 40 years, seen through the prisma of my friend’s life, I feel I have got a fairly good understanding of life. I have for sure, both personally and through other people, seen and been through a wealth of examples of neurotic, false meaning of life.

In contrast to your young Pal, I was, fortunately, given enough time-allocation and having You as a Pal, I could make it!

Jan Johnsson


  • Arthur Janov May 9, 2012 1:04 AM
    You know, Jan, thanks to your daring to come to a curly headed shrink to try out a therapy in its infancy, I learned from you and found out how to help people. It is a two edged sword; we learn from each other. I had a lot to learn and could not have done it without the bravery of my patients. Art



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