"Let me explain that. Some of you might sacrifice your lives for the survival of your wives or husbands or children; but that's still survival. It's the survival of your family. Some of you might sacrifice yourself for your country or your flag. That's survival of the country, or the flag. I'm not making any judgments here. It's neither right nor wrong; it's only survival. Some of you in this room might even sacrifice yourselves for the survival of the species. And that's still survival. It's all survival. It's only survival. You will fight for the survival of anything that you have invested your identity in.

"Let me show you something. Everybody sit down." He waited until we had resumed our seats. "I say that you have a significant investment in survival. I'm not making a judgment about this. It's not right or wrong. It's just an observation. I say that you have a significant investment in survival. Now, if that's true for you, stand up. If you've got a lot of attention on surviving this course, stand up."

At least three hundred of us stood up. Maybe more. A few of us exchanged embarrassed smiles. There was even a little nervous laughter in the room.

"Good," laughed Foreman. He looked around the room. "These are the courageous cowards: They know how bad it's going to be, so they'll jump in to get the worst of it over with quickly." He looked out over the group. "Anyone want to join the courageous cowards? Where are the hiders? Those of you who know you belong in this category, but you don't want to stand up yet?"

About two dozen people stood up to join us.

"You want to notice here that the hiders hide because they think that's the way to survive. They think that when the shit hits the fan, they can hide and it'll miss them. Too bad. In this course, the hiders always get the worst of it. You have all been warned." There was friendly laughter in the room. The mood was getting lighter now.

"All right. Now, those of you who are lying about it-you know you should be standing, but you're not-you stand up. Good. "

A few more people stood up. They looked embarrassed. More good-natured giggling.

"You want to notice that these are the people who think they have to lie to survive. Ladies especially take note. These men are very poor marriage risks. You men, you want to watch out for these ladies. No, don't sit down. I'm not through.

"Anyone who isn't sure, stand up. I promise you, you're worrying about your survival too. Your way to deal with the issue is to worry about it. It lets you look responsible without having to take a stand. Go ahead, stand up."

There were only a dozen people left sitting.

"Now, I want you all to notice the ones who are still sitting," Foreman said. "They're the ones who claim they don't have any energy invested in surviving. That's called a position. They have a lot of survival invested in that position. These are the holdouts. They don't participate. That's their way of participating. That's their way of surviving.

"So, let me tell you what you think survival is, so you can recognize it. You think survival is being right. You think survival is looking good. You think survival is doing the right thing. Everybody sit down." Foreman waved us back down into our seats. "Listen, this is the point of The Survival Process. You will do whatever you think you have to do-whatever that is-to survive. Let me say that again. You will do whatever you think you have to do to survive. In fact, that's all you can do. You can't do anything that isn't a function of survival.

"So, let's discuss that for a bit; I can see that some of you don't agree with that. Good. That's fine. I'm not going to ask you to agree with it or disagree with it. We're just going to look at it and see if it's true. If it's true, it doesn't matter whether we agree with it or not, does it?" Again the grin. I wanted to check and see if there was a trap door under my chair. Or an exploding whoopee cushion.

"All right . . . we'll start with biology. Any biologists in the room?"

I raised my hand. So did several others.

"Good. You should already know this. Let me work with someone who doesn't. Any nonbiologists here?"

More hands. He pointed at a Latino man. "You. Delgado. What is the most important thing a living creature must do?" "Reproduce?"

"That's part of it, but that's not all of it. What's the most important thing a living creature must do?"

"Eat?"

"You're guessing. Stop trying to figure it out. Someone else? What's the most important thing a living creature must do?" He pointed at a young woman.

She stood up. "Survive."

"Right. See, sometimes the answers are easy. If a creature doesn't survive, it can't do anything else, can it? Without survival, there isn't anything. You all know that; if not consciously, you certainly know it viscerally. You definitely know it on a cellular level. Every single cell of your body has only one single purpose-to survive. It is the fundamental law of biology. "

Of course. I knew that. Tell me something I don't know. I folded my arms and leaned back in my chair.

Foreman stepped up the aisle to come face to face with the young woman. Her name was Ozalie. Her hair was a crown of shiny black curls that fell in ringlets about her face. She looked like a little girl. "Okay, now it gets hard. What's the purpose of life?"

" U h."

"I said the purpose, not the meaning."

"The purpose of life . . . is to survive, isn't it?"

"Is it?" He looked at her as if daring her, as if it were a secret that he knew and wasn't going to share.

Ozalie shook her head. "I don't know."

"Right. Only God knows." Foreman winked at her. "You're making this too easy, you know." Qzalie looked pleased with herself.

Forman looked around to the rest of us. "God chooses what the purpose of life is. That's God's job. And we're not going to be so presumptuous as to preempt that responsibility, not until we're willing to assume the responsibilities of gods. If we were gods, however, then we could choose for ourselves what the purpose of life should be. For myself, I'd choose that the purpose of life should be to make a difference on the planet. Some of you might choose to have a good time; play hard, die young, and leave a good-looking corpse. But then, that's not the kind of choice a god might make, is it?

"Okay, never mind that for now. We're not gods yet, and that particular discussion is beyond your ability to comprehend. Let's keep this on the level that even the average chimpanzee will be able to understand. All right, Ozalie, you don't know what God's purpose is for your life, do you? Do you know what your purpose is? Wait . . ." Foreman abruptly headed toward the back of the room for something. ". . . before you answer, let me read the. definition of purpose from the dictionary." He snatched one up off the table at the back of the room. " 'An intended or desired result. An aim or goal."' He handed the dictionary back to an assistant and returned to Ozalie. "Think hard. I promise you that your life depends on this. What is your purpose for yourself?"

Ozalie stopped looking so pleased with herself and looked uncertain instead. She shook her head and admitted, "I thought it was . . . I guess it's . . ." She looked very unhappy with herself and when she spoke again, her voice was almost a squeak. "I guess, I'm committed to survival, aren't I?" she admitted. "That's my only purpose, isn't it?"

Forman nodded thoughtfully: "Terrifying realization, isn't it?" he acknowledged. He turned to the rest of us. "Ozalie gets the irony: Do the rest of you? Survival is the wrong goal. You are destined to lose. If not today, then tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the day after. If not the day after, then someday, I promise you, you will die. Count on it. Your life is a finite experience. But you-even though you've known that unconfrontable fact all your life--continue to pretend that you can win the battle of survival. You can't: All that you can do is postpone your defeat. And that's what you call victory."