I really want to whack my head on the table right now as I see I said "course language" not "coarse language".
I'd had it all edited, read it a million times, as I felt really happy with how this came out - then early this morning decided to add that one warning line - right up the top - in case someone was in their car with their kid and I didn't want them to drive off the road when I read the word "c--t" in the podcast version.
Sorry about this. It's funny - it's so simple, but it annoys me so much.
Don’t worry. In the 90s, my dad once went out at midnight in a balaclava and carefully graffiti’d a local election hoarding because it didn’t have an apostrophe in the right place. It had driven him nuts.
Every time - and I only ever wrote a few of them - I wrote a Twitter thread I managed to get in a ridiculous spelling error like that. And I’m a ninja speller since childhood. Must be one of Murphy’s Laws. At least here you can edit it!
This was an excellent read and listen...and I'm desperate to meet the hypothetical parent who read “I was shot with two arrows..." and thought it would be perfect for the school run but took umbrage with "cunt."
What's great is that I read it and immediately assumed I had be wrong my whole life..."shit...it's course...not coarse??" Totally understand the frustration there! You caught it though so kudos to you!
Appreciate everyone’s comments. I also appreciate that people resonated with my intents and musings -- I did stress about it, but y’all got it.
I always wanted to write something about this experience, and for some (probable psychological reasons) always minimised its significance and put it off. I also wanted to make sure I wrote about it after some time for reflection.
There’s lots I could write more (my time in PNG before attack; cruelty of modern medical/govt system; cruelty of anonymous people online, e.g. seeing comments on MC Stormtroopa YouTube videos about how my parody music was bad that I deserved to be shot, etc.).
I just wanna give shout outs to Matt Sypek, Heather Barnes, Ryan Bennett and Samantha, Milo Verbowski, Andrew Dean, Dan Looker, Catherine McCarthy, and especially in particular Ian Jorgensen who let me stay at theirs after my ordeal. Absolute legends for giving me unconditional love and the space to be with no expectations.
It really helped my healing to have good people looking out for me, and I think the secret to a good life is to look out for others. Kindness and love do prevail and are the most worthwhile energies to express in the world ❤️
What a story, thank you to Matt for sharing such a pivotal, personal moment in his life. I was really struck by the fact he had to ‘justify’ his trauma and his subsequent choices to others. The old model of ‘just get on with it’ still runs deep in society.
Absolutely, particularly in Aussie Boomers and older. I work in aged health care and most patients will tell me their issues but quickly follow it up with "I shouldn't complain, there are people much worse than me etc". I always respond with something like "That may be the case, but someone starving in Africa doesn't change the fact that you have a broken hip." Always such relief on their faces when they're given "permission" to have a whinge.
Gawd, it's horrific isn't it. I think my parents actually think they're happy but to me it seems such a thin existence 'getting along' and avoiding any conflict or real talk.
Those aussie boomers sound just like my kiwi boomer parents. Being raised with that really sends a message about how acceptable your real (vulnerable) self is - it's not, put those emotions away would you 😭
Yes! My parents are the same so I hear you! Particularly my dad who has his own brand of toxic positivity despite multiple suicide attempts. Got to keep pushing those feelings down!
Canada was the first place I ever visited out of New Zealand - my mum went back and took us there when I was about 8, because she'd had a "gap year" there - and I fully concur. Everyone I've talked to from Canada since backs up the similarities between NZ and Canada!
I went to school with Jess (Matt’s sister) and his story consumed my brain for years. It’s a privilege to be able to read Matt’s own words on it after all this time. Thanks for sharing. Tautoko the f’d up way we require people to get over their trauma in a timely manner for the sake of our own comfort.
Oh, wow - small world eh. And yes - that part of the story struck me, too - the trauma after the event of people just having no fucking idea what you went through / are still going through.
Funny story: I was at a rock shop in Henderson and it was like the day after the Nightline story aired. I was floating in the world, imagining my life before where I used to play music and super depressed about having no money. Guy at the counter recognises me from the Nightline segment, so I bailed and hid under a rock for the next week. That’s the other troubling thing about media exposure is that your life experience gets cut and edited to be a “whoa! Crazy story!” reaction. I don’t expect people to know or understand my experience entirely -- the main reason I did the Nightline thing was to stop all the speculation and try and put a lid on it -- but I’ve had a real gamut of reactions.
And no matter show clearly you state someting - someone will still find an outrageous take on it, right? Or misread. Or not read. For what it's worth, again, this is a very well told piece that with your reflections make it incredibly worthwhile.
Great read but I’m left really really wanting to hear the arrow-wrestling, ball-crushing, scientist ex’s account of how she out-manoeuvred the psycho. He was a security guard, he can’t have been a small guy. What a woman!
She’s great, tough, courageous, amazing. I owe her my life. Sadly, I’ve not spoken to her in the last 6 years. Sometimes it’s hard to think about, and time is ticking, but eventually we’ll prob hang out again. It took her a long time to finish her PhD but she got it done. Really proud of her, as I’m sure having that trauma in the background and working on a PhD is another kind of ordeal...
Reading your story, I felt you were very much paying tribute to her courage. It is so beautifully-written, compelling and harrowing - yet thought-provoking. Thank you for sharing.
Me too. I was wondering if she also experienced PTSD. Thank you Matt for sharing your amazing experience via David’s webworm. I’m also angry about the CUNT getting off lightly.
Thank you for sharing Matt’s story, David. I’m so glad that he knew to take care of himself, instead of listening to those who wanted him to “get on with it.” His insights about “ego death” make total sense. The less you focus on yourself, the more open you are to life around you.
Paraphrasing but “not near death but giving it a high five” is a totally beautiful line. After a couple of wake up calls (not arrows to the diaphragm) in the last few years of my 30s, I’m aware now that: 1. Perceived intelligence is not a good way to judge a person’s character 2. Government benefits are actually rarely abused in the scheme of things. Yes there are people/families entrenched in the system, and the system is flawed but we simply cannot function as a society without it. 3. Māori and Pasifika people know how to send their loved ones off the best. Pakeha (I’m one) can learn a lot. Thanks Matt and David!
That was my favourite line too. To be honest, I think I minimised the “near-physical death” part. I recently read over what they had to do to help me continue living and it involved a notable blood transfusion of at least a litre of blood.
Wow, you can never rule out the possibility that a nearby stranger was once nearly murdered in arrow attack in the remote South Pacific. Everybody we encounter has been through *something* we have no idea about.
This is a fantastic narrative, Matt, but I imagine it didn't feel that way to you for quite some time.
My own near-death experience wouldn't make as good a movie as this story. It happened when I was 3 years old, but I've dismissed it as insignificant most of my life: On the 4th of July, American Independence Day, I nearly drowned in my grandparents' neighbors' backyard pool while about 30 adults were either also in the pool or on the adjacent patio. None of them noticed! Eventually, the neighbor yanked me out. I went right over to tell my mother what happened, but she wasn't listening or maybe didn't believe me, because there was zero reaction. So I never brought it up again because, well, apparently it was no big deal.
A couple decades later I finally realized how totally fucked it was that a couple dozen of my adult relatives were *right there* as I was drowning! And that nobody ever knew or believed me! I never considered how that may have affected my feelings about death, but this, from Matt, I really related to:
"Every time I think about my death now, I find it somewhat comforting, yet wholly unremarkable. Whether I go now or later, the outcome will be the same — I just hope it is not when I’m on the toilet."
It's possibly an almost blase perspective compared to that of most people. I do wonder now whether those infinite seconds in that pool led me to feel this way. I was 3, so I don't remember a lot of my personal philosophy about mortality prior to that event.
I've said words to this effect on here before when the topic has come up, but, as Matt discusses, I don't view death as an absolute failure or the worst possible outcome in every scenario. Life is far too variable and nuanced to make such sweeping claims. I'd prefer to have some say in how it goes, though. More important to me are the specific requirements I have for what they do with me after. Back in February of this year, I was horribly ill, and the only preemptive action I took was to send my sister the post-mortem requirements. But whenever it goes down, well, c'est la vie.
Had a similar experience as far as the drowning went. Was almost three and fallen down the deep end of pool. Can still remember (75 yrs later) watching all the pretty bubbles going up. Not worried at all and furious as only an almost three can be, when my uncle hauled me out. Wanted to stay down there with the beautiful bubbles. Must admit my therapist, in later years, felt this was a strange reaction.
Wow! I remember it so vividly as well, and I'm 35, so it's got me reeling to think I may have the same recall in another 40 years! I understand your feeling of peace around the bubbles, and I think Matt described this really well, too. I'm sorry your therapist couldn't understand that. I would think that a professional who talks to people about their trauma every day would get that our instinctual responses to such events are not likely to align with typical behavior.
I've been a non-subscriber for over a year now, but this headline alone got me to subscribe as a paying listener. Incredible story, so well written and reflective. Thanks, Matt, for sharing your story. And thanks, David, for everything you put out into the world.
Kim - thanks. If it *ever* becomes a financial burden, hit "unsubscribe" at the bottom of any email. But it's nice to have you here - honestly, the people in this comments section give me life!
And congratulations to you for graduating to the "orange check mark" of "thousands of paid subscribers", all contributing to the legal defense fund for Mr. Organ, Arise Church, and others! :)
What a great story, thanks to both Matt & David for sharing. I empathise A LOT with all of this. I’ve had almost 20 near-death experiences, including getting hit by a truck doing 80kmh, and getting attacked by not one but 3 (!) different sharks, all man-eaters: Tiger Shark in my 20s on Lizard Island diving for my Honours research, a Great White in 2015 in South Africa (my own fault, I stuck my GoPro in its mouth!), and a 7-Gill on a night dive in Fiordland in 2014. Funnily, none of them happened doing my dangerous PhD fieldwork in super-remote PNG diving on a gold mine over an active volcano and a 2km shark- and croc-infested drop-off.
But I did witness and hear many stories similar to Matt’s in my 3 years living on and off on Lihir Island. The miners and expats who’d worked on mines all over PNG had many insane and often horrifying (for us whites who didn’t understand the cultural context yet) tales, and I accidentally witnessed an execution by machete over a blood feud. One of my female field assistants avoided being raped by a hair with similar heroics (though she went running in the bush despite being warned, and had to try and outrun, and finally kick his balls to get rid of her assailant) - an incident that warranted less empathy by both locals and expats than either of us expected.
It took me several months to get accustomed to the very different meaning of life & death in the jungles of PNG. What seemed like utter cruelty and an inhumane lack of empathy was instead a culture’s way of dealing with the daily likelihood of getting seriously injured, violated or killed by a myriad of things. Different tribes have different ways, on Lihir there was a strong mixture of Catholic faith (more prominent in the women) and the belief that all dead ancestors were still around, partaking in family life in their spirit form. Food was left out every night for those spirits. My closest friend’s stepmother was an actual ghost. Shamanism and “puri-puri” was as prominent in the belief system as going to church on Friday to be absolved for whatever “sin” one committed (including stabbing your wife with a spear or hitting your husband over the head with a steel pan - and that was just one evening in my boss’ house!). The more time you spend there, the more things make sense, or become at least plausible in that cultural context.
I suffer from C-PTSD and yet I don’t think my experiences in PNG nor the many near-death escapes have contributed much to it (compared with the bullying and sexual & narcissistic abuse I suffered from childhood, at Uni and work places). In fact, my first field trip to PNG which almost literally scared me to death because of the stories I’d already heard beforehand, cured me of my suicidal depression I had suffered for 1.5 years. I’ve never found a place as honest, wild & vibrant (and yes, so cruel as well) as PNG & am unbelievably grateful for the privilege to spend my early 20s there and get such a massive lifelong shift in perspective. You can’t come out of PNG and an experience like Matt’s and not change forever as a human, including how you feel about life and death.
I also very much agree with his take on psychedelic ego death, having experienced that as well. Another massive perspective shifter that I found hugely useful to overcome depression (though it’s obviously not for everyone!).
One of the most eye-opening things I learned about PNG was that it had (has?) some 800+ languages. A plethora of different cultures. You could be 20-50km away from another tribe which speaks a completely different language to your own. It’s amazing. But also, as you rightly said, extremely cruel and indifferent too. Perhaps from our own religious cultural influences, our scientific technology and safety conscious privileges we actually detach and forget about the real true “wild” world out there. I had a brief dalliance with it, but it seems you had a waltz, tango, macarena, and then some.
I know!!! One of the things that struck me so hard about PNG was how the expats (often very redneck Australian miners who could barely string a coherent sentence together) looked down and disrespected the locals, when every one of them spoke a minimum of 6, often 8 different languages! They learn their mother's and father's tribe's language, Tok Pisin, English, their wife's, and often their grandparents' as well!
One story I love telling is when we collected coral bommies which weighed at least 80-100kg each, and were incredibly difficult (and painful) to pick up and carry. This Aussie weightlifter guy who was a massive unit almost popped a vein he struggled so hard trying to lift one of them. My favourite field assistant (and Poroman bilong mi to this day) Joe rolled up next to him, picked up his bommie, threw it on his shoulder like it was a coconut, jogged off, stopped at another bommie, threw that on his other shoulder and ran up the beach with them like it was nothing. He is about 5 foot 5 and wouldn't weigh more than 60kg! 😂
I would never ever underestimate any PNGan, they are incredibly accomplished problem solvers and can fix literally anything (including 30m underwater!) with gaffer tape. I could have never finished my field work (and probably would have died out there) without them.
If you haven't read it yet, a wonderful book is "Throwim way leg" by Tim Flannery. You will recognise a lot of your own PNG experiences in there...
So many of the stories you have been sharing lately have fitted in with ideas and conversations I’ve been having with friends recently. Particularly at the moment where everyone is sick and exhausted leading up to Christmas but feels like they can’t get off the roller coaster of expectation. A friend and I were talking and I said it was ridiculous how we are in a system where we have to live our lives where our energy is so used up all the time. Matt’s sharing of how the system sucked and sickened him post trauma and how it took 10 months to be able to ‘rejoin’ his section of society is fascinating. Yet at the same time, celebrating every moment of life and being alive. Because of how “developed” our society is, he will have nearly double the life expectancy of those he met in PNG. It’s really thought provoking. Thank you to Matt for sharing your story and thanks David for providing a space to do that.
This was so heavy, but so much appreciated. Thanks Matt for being willing to share this with us. I’ve also experienced physical trauma (not to this extent though!) and can very much relate to the events that follow. It is upsetting when the people around you expect you to bounce back so quickly. I experienced everything from gaslighting and incredulous comments, to my own sister begging me not to check myself in to a crisis facility when I was in the depths of my PTSD. It makes me happy to know that this was a pivotal moment for you, but also sad that you had to experience it in the first place.
Back to your comments at the beginning David, I too was raised in religion only to lose that faith several years ago. Ever since I have struggled on and off thinking about death. I am selfish and it upsets me thinking that I’ll never see those who have passed again. What keeps me going though is the thought that we all die, but maybe our energy is being repurposed into something beautiful.
A great story, well told. Thanks for sharing such a personal experience so profoundly.
My favourite HEALTH lyric is “I wasn’t worried before I was born, why would I worry after I’m gone” because it makes me stop and think about why I am so worried about the bit in the middle. For a long time I assumed my death at a young age was inevitable, so I made no plans and didn’t look ahead and now I’m there and I’m living a life I didn’t expect I never really know what to do with it. I’m learning to be less afraid of life the older I get, which I think might be the wrong way around, but I’m excited to reach all the milestones that were previously a foregone conclusion (30 next birthday, how amazing!!).
Death is, indeed. It waits for me the same as it does everyone, but I’m in no rush anymore.
30 is good. Nothing to worry about there. I hit 40 on Christmas Day.... so Matt's essay was well timed for this month.
And yeah, I dig those lyrics too. HEALTH is such a ridiculously overblown band that I love to death (ha!) but their lyrics can be quite breezy and wonderful.
I also thought I wasn’t going to live long and was fairly self destructive from 12 through my mid 20s. I just turned 39 two days ago and it feels like a miracle sometimes that I’m still here.
I’ve done some thinking about this stuff. Here are just a few of my random thoughts.
Being Christian, I don’t believe in heaven, because we all know that a three tiered universe was disproved centuries ago, but I do try to make sense of eternal life.
From the book, ‘Kissing Fish’ by Roger Wolsey:
‘It should also be noted that the Greek word that we translate as ‘eternal’, doesn’t necessarily have to do with time, and more likely has to do with a supreme quality. When Jesus spoke of his coming to give “eternal life,” many Bible scholars believe he was referring more to an abundant, meaningful life, and wholeness than to living with God in heaven forever after we die.’
My take is (for non-Christians - any other religion or the non-religious - substitute the word ‘God’ for ‘love’, or your own concept of god.):
The more fulfilled, the more joyful, at peace, and contented we are in life, the less we care about a ‘reward’ in heaven. Our reward should be in this life, knowing we have a relationship in God. We can’t live a fulfilling life if we are afraid of what might or might not happen to us after death.
If we are in God and God is in us, if we are at one with God, is this eternal life - we remain part of the mysterious power of God after our body dies?
Also from ‘Kissing Fish’:
C. S. Lewis’ vision about what happens to us when we die:
When we die we will not say: “Lord, I could never have guessed how beautiful you are.” We will not say that. Rather we will say, “So … it was you all along. Everyone I ever loved, it was you. Everyone who loved me, it was you. Everything decent or fine that ever happened to me, Everything that made me reach out and try to be better, it was you all along.”
I then envisage that we are absorbed back into our Source (God) - effectively having fullest Communion. - Roger Wolsey
I can’t pretend to have any kind of realistic understanding of string theory, (I can’t even understand ‘String Theory for Dummies’), but it seems to me that science is supporting more and more the concept of a mystic power (that some of us call God), that we are all connected to, and connects us with each other. To me, this make sense of eternal life.
I think I get where you are coming from. I think it’s similar to what I had realised just before the attack (“life is poetry”).
I figured that for a lot of us God (or whatever) is just creative interpretation, trying to put sense on the senseless, meaning into meaninglessness. I think this kind of thing is ultimately a coping mechanism, using creative means like words, poetry, song, imagery, et al.
Because what exactly is life, if not a dangerously beautiful whirl of energy out in the vacuum of space? It’s fun to dream. Be free.
"A dangerously beautiful whirl of energy out in the vacuum of space." I love that! I'm not fussed about what anyone wants to call it. For me, 'God' works, but I am more and more convinced that we're all experiencing the same thing when we are aware of the mysterious.
I love, love, love this, thank you both for bringing it to us.
One of my favourite writers/podcasters for looking mortality and the fragility of life in the face with honesty, vulnerability and wisdom is Kate Bowler. She's religious, but only in the least wanky kind of way.
I really want to whack my head on the table right now as I see I said "course language" not "coarse language".
I'd had it all edited, read it a million times, as I felt really happy with how this came out - then early this morning decided to add that one warning line - right up the top - in case someone was in their car with their kid and I didn't want them to drive off the road when I read the word "c--t" in the podcast version.
Sorry about this. It's funny - it's so simple, but it annoys me so much.
Anyway - it's amended. Onwards.
Don’t worry. In the 90s, my dad once went out at midnight in a balaclava and carefully graffiti’d a local election hoarding because it didn’t have an apostrophe in the right place. It had driven him nuts.
Par for the coarse
Of course language
I once sacrificed a nice lipstick to correct a spelling error on a restaurant's sidewalk sign.
Reminds me of this story that I enjoyed so much when it was published: https://www.bbc.com/news/av/uk-39459831
Every time - and I only ever wrote a few of them - I wrote a Twitter thread I managed to get in a ridiculous spelling error like that. And I’m a ninja speller since childhood. Must be one of Murphy’s Laws. At least here you can edit it!
Reminds me of the art department of The West Wing delivering a plane that said “Untied States of America” on the side
This was an excellent read and listen...and I'm desperate to meet the hypothetical parent who read “I was shot with two arrows..." and thought it would be perfect for the school run but took umbrage with "cunt."
What's great is that I read it and immediately assumed I had be wrong my whole life..."shit...it's course...not coarse??" Totally understand the frustration there! You caught it though so kudos to you!
Thanks Peter. You get it it.
Matt rules and I am just so glad he did this. And he's in the comments to, adding stuff. Legend.
Appreciate everyone’s comments. I also appreciate that people resonated with my intents and musings -- I did stress about it, but y’all got it.
I always wanted to write something about this experience, and for some (probable psychological reasons) always minimised its significance and put it off. I also wanted to make sure I wrote about it after some time for reflection.
There’s lots I could write more (my time in PNG before attack; cruelty of modern medical/govt system; cruelty of anonymous people online, e.g. seeing comments on MC Stormtroopa YouTube videos about how my parody music was bad that I deserved to be shot, etc.).
I just wanna give shout outs to Matt Sypek, Heather Barnes, Ryan Bennett and Samantha, Milo Verbowski, Andrew Dean, Dan Looker, Catherine McCarthy, and especially in particular Ian Jorgensen who let me stay at theirs after my ordeal. Absolute legends for giving me unconditional love and the space to be with no expectations.
It really helped my healing to have good people looking out for me, and I think the secret to a good life is to look out for others. Kindness and love do prevail and are the most worthwhile energies to express in the world ❤️
Respect Matt, as always, thank you for writing this, your recommendations are to be heeded I reckon, you are the stormtrooper of love.
love your musings and would absolutely read more if you chose to write more !
Thank you for sharing your story Matt.
Great words! Thankyou for sharing your story.
What a story, thank you to Matt for sharing such a pivotal, personal moment in his life. I was really struck by the fact he had to ‘justify’ his trauma and his subsequent choices to others. The old model of ‘just get on with it’ still runs deep in society.
And it's so, so strong down in New Zealand and Australia.
Absolutely, particularly in Aussie Boomers and older. I work in aged health care and most patients will tell me their issues but quickly follow it up with "I shouldn't complain, there are people much worse than me etc". I always respond with something like "That may be the case, but someone starving in Africa doesn't change the fact that you have a broken hip." Always such relief on their faces when they're given "permission" to have a whinge.
Gawd, it's horrific isn't it. I think my parents actually think they're happy but to me it seems such a thin existence 'getting along' and avoiding any conflict or real talk.
Those aussie boomers sound just like my kiwi boomer parents. Being raised with that really sends a message about how acceptable your real (vulnerable) self is - it's not, put those emotions away would you 😭
Yes! My parents are the same so I hear you! Particularly my dad who has his own brand of toxic positivity despite multiple suicide attempts. Got to keep pushing those feelings down!
And Canada
Canada was the first place I ever visited out of New Zealand - my mum went back and took us there when I was about 8, because she'd had a "gap year" there - and I fully concur. Everyone I've talked to from Canada since backs up the similarities between NZ and Canada!
I hear that quite often as well. Canada has a lot of things that can kill you in the woods though.
Sorry, what?
I went to school with Jess (Matt’s sister) and his story consumed my brain for years. It’s a privilege to be able to read Matt’s own words on it after all this time. Thanks for sharing. Tautoko the f’d up way we require people to get over their trauma in a timely manner for the sake of our own comfort.
Oh, wow - small world eh. And yes - that part of the story struck me, too - the trauma after the event of people just having no fucking idea what you went through / are still going through.
Funny story: I was at a rock shop in Henderson and it was like the day after the Nightline story aired. I was floating in the world, imagining my life before where I used to play music and super depressed about having no money. Guy at the counter recognises me from the Nightline segment, so I bailed and hid under a rock for the next week. That’s the other troubling thing about media exposure is that your life experience gets cut and edited to be a “whoa! Crazy story!” reaction. I don’t expect people to know or understand my experience entirely -- the main reason I did the Nightline thing was to stop all the speculation and try and put a lid on it -- but I’ve had a real gamut of reactions.
And no matter show clearly you state someting - someone will still find an outrageous take on it, right? Or misread. Or not read. For what it's worth, again, this is a very well told piece that with your reflections make it incredibly worthwhile.
Hiya Kate, send my love to Kieran xx
Great read but I’m left really really wanting to hear the arrow-wrestling, ball-crushing, scientist ex’s account of how she out-manoeuvred the psycho. He was a security guard, he can’t have been a small guy. What a woman!
She’s great, tough, courageous, amazing. I owe her my life. Sadly, I’ve not spoken to her in the last 6 years. Sometimes it’s hard to think about, and time is ticking, but eventually we’ll prob hang out again. It took her a long time to finish her PhD but she got it done. Really proud of her, as I’m sure having that trauma in the background and working on a PhD is another kind of ordeal...
Reading your story, I felt you were very much paying tribute to her courage. It is so beautifully-written, compelling and harrowing - yet thought-provoking. Thank you for sharing.
yes i didn’t want to say anything so as not to appear like i’m ignoring the story presented here but...very much same!
Me too. I was wondering if she also experienced PTSD. Thank you Matt for sharing your amazing experience via David’s webworm. I’m also angry about the CUNT getting off lightly.
Thank you for sharing Matt’s story, David. I’m so glad that he knew to take care of himself, instead of listening to those who wanted him to “get on with it.” His insights about “ego death” make total sense. The less you focus on yourself, the more open you are to life around you.
Paraphrasing but “not near death but giving it a high five” is a totally beautiful line. After a couple of wake up calls (not arrows to the diaphragm) in the last few years of my 30s, I’m aware now that: 1. Perceived intelligence is not a good way to judge a person’s character 2. Government benefits are actually rarely abused in the scheme of things. Yes there are people/families entrenched in the system, and the system is flawed but we simply cannot function as a society without it. 3. Māori and Pasifika people know how to send their loved ones off the best. Pakeha (I’m one) can learn a lot. Thanks Matt and David!
That was my favourite line too. To be honest, I think I minimised the “near-physical death” part. I recently read over what they had to do to help me continue living and it involved a notable blood transfusion of at least a litre of blood.
I’m not surprised! I can’t believe that lung shot missed your heart. Thank you for sharing dude, it’s a helluva story.
Wow, you can never rule out the possibility that a nearby stranger was once nearly murdered in arrow attack in the remote South Pacific. Everybody we encounter has been through *something* we have no idea about.
This is a fantastic narrative, Matt, but I imagine it didn't feel that way to you for quite some time.
My own near-death experience wouldn't make as good a movie as this story. It happened when I was 3 years old, but I've dismissed it as insignificant most of my life: On the 4th of July, American Independence Day, I nearly drowned in my grandparents' neighbors' backyard pool while about 30 adults were either also in the pool or on the adjacent patio. None of them noticed! Eventually, the neighbor yanked me out. I went right over to tell my mother what happened, but she wasn't listening or maybe didn't believe me, because there was zero reaction. So I never brought it up again because, well, apparently it was no big deal.
A couple decades later I finally realized how totally fucked it was that a couple dozen of my adult relatives were *right there* as I was drowning! And that nobody ever knew or believed me! I never considered how that may have affected my feelings about death, but this, from Matt, I really related to:
"Every time I think about my death now, I find it somewhat comforting, yet wholly unremarkable. Whether I go now or later, the outcome will be the same — I just hope it is not when I’m on the toilet."
It's possibly an almost blase perspective compared to that of most people. I do wonder now whether those infinite seconds in that pool led me to feel this way. I was 3, so I don't remember a lot of my personal philosophy about mortality prior to that event.
I've said words to this effect on here before when the topic has come up, but, as Matt discusses, I don't view death as an absolute failure or the worst possible outcome in every scenario. Life is far too variable and nuanced to make such sweeping claims. I'd prefer to have some say in how it goes, though. More important to me are the specific requirements I have for what they do with me after. Back in February of this year, I was horribly ill, and the only preemptive action I took was to send my sister the post-mortem requirements. But whenever it goes down, well, c'est la vie.
Had a similar experience as far as the drowning went. Was almost three and fallen down the deep end of pool. Can still remember (75 yrs later) watching all the pretty bubbles going up. Not worried at all and furious as only an almost three can be, when my uncle hauled me out. Wanted to stay down there with the beautiful bubbles. Must admit my therapist, in later years, felt this was a strange reaction.
Wow! I remember it so vividly as well, and I'm 35, so it's got me reeling to think I may have the same recall in another 40 years! I understand your feeling of peace around the bubbles, and I think Matt described this really well, too. I'm sorry your therapist couldn't understand that. I would think that a professional who talks to people about their trauma every day would get that our instinctual responses to such events are not likely to align with typical behavior.
That's horrifying, people can be so dismissive of kids!
Riveting. Sucks how the stories erased/minimised the heroism of ex-gf. Did any news outlet give her the props she deserves?
None of them did, and she didn’t want to be in the media anyway. I made note not to mention her name here to respect that.
I've been a non-subscriber for over a year now, but this headline alone got me to subscribe as a paying listener. Incredible story, so well written and reflective. Thanks, Matt, for sharing your story. And thanks, David, for everything you put out into the world.
Kim - thanks. If it *ever* becomes a financial burden, hit "unsubscribe" at the bottom of any email. But it's nice to have you here - honestly, the people in this comments section give me life!
And congratulations to you for graduating to the "orange check mark" of "thousands of paid subscribers", all contributing to the legal defense fund for Mr. Organ, Arise Church, and others! :)
I will never get over how much lawyers cost - and how valuable they can be when needed.
What a great story, thanks to both Matt & David for sharing. I empathise A LOT with all of this. I’ve had almost 20 near-death experiences, including getting hit by a truck doing 80kmh, and getting attacked by not one but 3 (!) different sharks, all man-eaters: Tiger Shark in my 20s on Lizard Island diving for my Honours research, a Great White in 2015 in South Africa (my own fault, I stuck my GoPro in its mouth!), and a 7-Gill on a night dive in Fiordland in 2014. Funnily, none of them happened doing my dangerous PhD fieldwork in super-remote PNG diving on a gold mine over an active volcano and a 2km shark- and croc-infested drop-off.
But I did witness and hear many stories similar to Matt’s in my 3 years living on and off on Lihir Island. The miners and expats who’d worked on mines all over PNG had many insane and often horrifying (for us whites who didn’t understand the cultural context yet) tales, and I accidentally witnessed an execution by machete over a blood feud. One of my female field assistants avoided being raped by a hair with similar heroics (though she went running in the bush despite being warned, and had to try and outrun, and finally kick his balls to get rid of her assailant) - an incident that warranted less empathy by both locals and expats than either of us expected.
It took me several months to get accustomed to the very different meaning of life & death in the jungles of PNG. What seemed like utter cruelty and an inhumane lack of empathy was instead a culture’s way of dealing with the daily likelihood of getting seriously injured, violated or killed by a myriad of things. Different tribes have different ways, on Lihir there was a strong mixture of Catholic faith (more prominent in the women) and the belief that all dead ancestors were still around, partaking in family life in their spirit form. Food was left out every night for those spirits. My closest friend’s stepmother was an actual ghost. Shamanism and “puri-puri” was as prominent in the belief system as going to church on Friday to be absolved for whatever “sin” one committed (including stabbing your wife with a spear or hitting your husband over the head with a steel pan - and that was just one evening in my boss’ house!). The more time you spend there, the more things make sense, or become at least plausible in that cultural context.
I suffer from C-PTSD and yet I don’t think my experiences in PNG nor the many near-death escapes have contributed much to it (compared with the bullying and sexual & narcissistic abuse I suffered from childhood, at Uni and work places). In fact, my first field trip to PNG which almost literally scared me to death because of the stories I’d already heard beforehand, cured me of my suicidal depression I had suffered for 1.5 years. I’ve never found a place as honest, wild & vibrant (and yes, so cruel as well) as PNG & am unbelievably grateful for the privilege to spend my early 20s there and get such a massive lifelong shift in perspective. You can’t come out of PNG and an experience like Matt’s and not change forever as a human, including how you feel about life and death.
I also very much agree with his take on psychedelic ego death, having experienced that as well. Another massive perspective shifter that I found hugely useful to overcome depression (though it’s obviously not for everyone!).
Sorry for rambling on, there was a lot in this Webworm that brought up a ton of memories and emotions. When I wrote my first-ever Medium article, I ended up going down the rabbit hole musing about my connection with death, and how I view the world through a “death prism”. Lots to unpack there, I’m sure... https://medium.com/@DrSeaRotmann/does-trying-to-save-the-world-mean-having-to-embrace-death-fea4fcb07f51
I’m gonna read your writings, thanks for sharing.
One of the most eye-opening things I learned about PNG was that it had (has?) some 800+ languages. A plethora of different cultures. You could be 20-50km away from another tribe which speaks a completely different language to your own. It’s amazing. But also, as you rightly said, extremely cruel and indifferent too. Perhaps from our own religious cultural influences, our scientific technology and safety conscious privileges we actually detach and forget about the real true “wild” world out there. I had a brief dalliance with it, but it seems you had a waltz, tango, macarena, and then some.
I know!!! One of the things that struck me so hard about PNG was how the expats (often very redneck Australian miners who could barely string a coherent sentence together) looked down and disrespected the locals, when every one of them spoke a minimum of 6, often 8 different languages! They learn their mother's and father's tribe's language, Tok Pisin, English, their wife's, and often their grandparents' as well!
One story I love telling is when we collected coral bommies which weighed at least 80-100kg each, and were incredibly difficult (and painful) to pick up and carry. This Aussie weightlifter guy who was a massive unit almost popped a vein he struggled so hard trying to lift one of them. My favourite field assistant (and Poroman bilong mi to this day) Joe rolled up next to him, picked up his bommie, threw it on his shoulder like it was a coconut, jogged off, stopped at another bommie, threw that on his other shoulder and ran up the beach with them like it was nothing. He is about 5 foot 5 and wouldn't weigh more than 60kg! 😂
I would never ever underestimate any PNGan, they are incredibly accomplished problem solvers and can fix literally anything (including 30m underwater!) with gaffer tape. I could have never finished my field work (and probably would have died out there) without them.
If you haven't read it yet, a wonderful book is "Throwim way leg" by Tim Flannery. You will recognise a lot of your own PNG experiences in there...
So many of the stories you have been sharing lately have fitted in with ideas and conversations I’ve been having with friends recently. Particularly at the moment where everyone is sick and exhausted leading up to Christmas but feels like they can’t get off the roller coaster of expectation. A friend and I were talking and I said it was ridiculous how we are in a system where we have to live our lives where our energy is so used up all the time. Matt’s sharing of how the system sucked and sickened him post trauma and how it took 10 months to be able to ‘rejoin’ his section of society is fascinating. Yet at the same time, celebrating every moment of life and being alive. Because of how “developed” our society is, he will have nearly double the life expectancy of those he met in PNG. It’s really thought provoking. Thank you to Matt for sharing your story and thanks David for providing a space to do that.
This was so heavy, but so much appreciated. Thanks Matt for being willing to share this with us. I’ve also experienced physical trauma (not to this extent though!) and can very much relate to the events that follow. It is upsetting when the people around you expect you to bounce back so quickly. I experienced everything from gaslighting and incredulous comments, to my own sister begging me not to check myself in to a crisis facility when I was in the depths of my PTSD. It makes me happy to know that this was a pivotal moment for you, but also sad that you had to experience it in the first place.
Back to your comments at the beginning David, I too was raised in religion only to lose that faith several years ago. Ever since I have struggled on and off thinking about death. I am selfish and it upsets me thinking that I’ll never see those who have passed again. What keeps me going though is the thought that we all die, but maybe our energy is being repurposed into something beautiful.
Ka pai for listening and trusting your own intuition!
A great story, well told. Thanks for sharing such a personal experience so profoundly.
My favourite HEALTH lyric is “I wasn’t worried before I was born, why would I worry after I’m gone” because it makes me stop and think about why I am so worried about the bit in the middle. For a long time I assumed my death at a young age was inevitable, so I made no plans and didn’t look ahead and now I’m there and I’m living a life I didn’t expect I never really know what to do with it. I’m learning to be less afraid of life the older I get, which I think might be the wrong way around, but I’m excited to reach all the milestones that were previously a foregone conclusion (30 next birthday, how amazing!!).
Death is, indeed. It waits for me the same as it does everyone, but I’m in no rush anymore.
30 is good. Nothing to worry about there. I hit 40 on Christmas Day.... so Matt's essay was well timed for this month.
And yeah, I dig those lyrics too. HEALTH is such a ridiculously overblown band that I love to death (ha!) but their lyrics can be quite breezy and wonderful.
The 40s are great David, you’ll love them!
I also thought I wasn’t going to live long and was fairly self destructive from 12 through my mid 20s. I just turned 39 two days ago and it feels like a miracle sometimes that I’m still here.
What an awesome article!
I’ve done some thinking about this stuff. Here are just a few of my random thoughts.
Being Christian, I don’t believe in heaven, because we all know that a three tiered universe was disproved centuries ago, but I do try to make sense of eternal life.
From the book, ‘Kissing Fish’ by Roger Wolsey:
‘It should also be noted that the Greek word that we translate as ‘eternal’, doesn’t necessarily have to do with time, and more likely has to do with a supreme quality. When Jesus spoke of his coming to give “eternal life,” many Bible scholars believe he was referring more to an abundant, meaningful life, and wholeness than to living with God in heaven forever after we die.’
My take is (for non-Christians - any other religion or the non-religious - substitute the word ‘God’ for ‘love’, or your own concept of god.):
The more fulfilled, the more joyful, at peace, and contented we are in life, the less we care about a ‘reward’ in heaven. Our reward should be in this life, knowing we have a relationship in God. We can’t live a fulfilling life if we are afraid of what might or might not happen to us after death.
If we are in God and God is in us, if we are at one with God, is this eternal life - we remain part of the mysterious power of God after our body dies?
Also from ‘Kissing Fish’:
C. S. Lewis’ vision about what happens to us when we die:
When we die we will not say: “Lord, I could never have guessed how beautiful you are.” We will not say that. Rather we will say, “So … it was you all along. Everyone I ever loved, it was you. Everyone who loved me, it was you. Everything decent or fine that ever happened to me, Everything that made me reach out and try to be better, it was you all along.”
I then envisage that we are absorbed back into our Source (God) - effectively having fullest Communion. - Roger Wolsey
I can’t pretend to have any kind of realistic understanding of string theory, (I can’t even understand ‘String Theory for Dummies’), but it seems to me that science is supporting more and more the concept of a mystic power (that some of us call God), that we are all connected to, and connects us with each other. To me, this make sense of eternal life.
I think I get where you are coming from. I think it’s similar to what I had realised just before the attack (“life is poetry”).
I figured that for a lot of us God (or whatever) is just creative interpretation, trying to put sense on the senseless, meaning into meaninglessness. I think this kind of thing is ultimately a coping mechanism, using creative means like words, poetry, song, imagery, et al.
Because what exactly is life, if not a dangerously beautiful whirl of energy out in the vacuum of space? It’s fun to dream. Be free.
"A dangerously beautiful whirl of energy out in the vacuum of space." I love that! I'm not fussed about what anyone wants to call it. For me, 'God' works, but I am more and more convinced that we're all experiencing the same thing when we are aware of the mysterious.
I love, love, love this, thank you both for bringing it to us.
One of my favourite writers/podcasters for looking mortality and the fragility of life in the face with honesty, vulnerability and wisdom is Kate Bowler. She's religious, but only in the least wanky kind of way.