I haven't watched it yet! Just commenting that it's very fun to be able to see the physical presence of someone whose writing you read. I'm glad you're doing some interviews!
> I had a vision once, at Brandeis University. It was at commencement. I had ducked commencement for years, but this one I couldn’t duck; I was corralled. And I felt there was something kind of stupid about these processions and idiotic medieval caps and gowns. This time, as the faculty stood waiting for the procession to begin, for some reason there was suddenly this vision. It wasn’t a hallucination. It was as if I could imagine very vividly a long academic procession.
> It went way the hell into the future, into some kind of misty, cloudy thing. The procession contained all my past colleagues, all the people I like, you know, Erasmus, Socrates. And then the procession extended into a dim cloud in which were all sorts of people not yet born. And these were also my colleagues. I felt very brotherly toward them, these future ones. It’s the transcending of time and space, which becomes quite normal.
I felt that resonance in what you described, and I feel myself waking up to it. My grandfather (at 98!) will be passing soon, and then my father will be patriarch of our family. And eventually, it will be me.
What a special, but lonely, but powerful experience to be the eldest with nobody else older than you, no "older adults" to come and save when things go wrong. But also, knowing that you are passing down all your gifts, that they might benefit all future generations.
"The stage five experience of time is ... also the experience of being across centuries, because you’re not separate from those who have gone before."
– David Chapman
Love this, Kevin!
That – and the Maslow quote which Chapman shared, about that timeless academic procession and feeling profoundly connected to those before and after – reminds of this, from Patrick Wyman in a thread on Bluesky:
"My dad died this morning. He was an extraordinarily decent person, and just about everyone who knew him was better for it. What’s striking right now is the universality of this experience: The sun shines, the birds chirp, and life continues, just as it has for tens of thousands of years.
"I’m thinking about all the sons and daughters who stepped out of a dark cave into the light after the last breath passed, the people who held a dying parent’s hand on some cold night in the Paleolithic, the Roman reflecting on how his dad had taught him how to knead dough or plow a field.
"There’s something really comforting in that. We’ve all dealt with this pain forever. It’s part of being human, what ties us to the generations before and after us."
I haven't watched it yet! Just commenting that it's very fun to be able to see the physical presence of someone whose writing you read. I'm glad you're doing some interviews!
"We’re in this big jam session. How do I make sure that when I leave the stage, the music is still going?” love this!!
Oh this one made me tear up. Here’s towards fighting against entropy
The way you described
> But what matters more to me is this continual unfolding that my ancestors were part of. How can I play a part in this ongoing evolutionary dance?
> We’re in this big jam session. How do I make sure that when I leave the stage, the music is still going?
reminded me of this David Chapman post, https://meaningness.substack.com/p/what-is-stage-five-like , and specifically his quote of Maslow:
> I had a vision once, at Brandeis University. It was at commencement. I had ducked commencement for years, but this one I couldn’t duck; I was corralled. And I felt there was something kind of stupid about these processions and idiotic medieval caps and gowns. This time, as the faculty stood waiting for the procession to begin, for some reason there was suddenly this vision. It wasn’t a hallucination. It was as if I could imagine very vividly a long academic procession.
> It went way the hell into the future, into some kind of misty, cloudy thing. The procession contained all my past colleagues, all the people I like, you know, Erasmus, Socrates. And then the procession extended into a dim cloud in which were all sorts of people not yet born. And these were also my colleagues. I felt very brotherly toward them, these future ones. It’s the transcending of time and space, which becomes quite normal.
I felt that resonance in what you described, and I feel myself waking up to it. My grandfather (at 98!) will be passing soon, and then my father will be patriarch of our family. And eventually, it will be me.
What a special, but lonely, but powerful experience to be the eldest with nobody else older than you, no "older adults" to come and save when things go wrong. But also, knowing that you are passing down all your gifts, that they might benefit all future generations.
"The stage five experience of time is ... also the experience of being across centuries, because you’re not separate from those who have gone before."
– David Chapman
Love this, Kevin!
That – and the Maslow quote which Chapman shared, about that timeless academic procession and feeling profoundly connected to those before and after – reminds of this, from Patrick Wyman in a thread on Bluesky:
https://bsky.app/profile/patrickwyman.bsky.social/post/3lqanoyptoc2h
"My dad died this morning. He was an extraordinarily decent person, and just about everyone who knew him was better for it. What’s striking right now is the universality of this experience: The sun shines, the birds chirp, and life continues, just as it has for tens of thousands of years.
"I’m thinking about all the sons and daughters who stepped out of a dark cave into the light after the last breath passed, the people who held a dying parent’s hand on some cold night in the Paleolithic, the Roman reflecting on how his dad had taught him how to knead dough or plow a field.
"There’s something really comforting in that. We’ve all dealt with this pain forever. It’s part of being human, what ties us to the generations before and after us."
Exciting to found out yall have not one but two episodes together. Can’t wait to listen.