Last night I got word from my friend Camie (college roommate) that her father-in-law had passed away on Friday. She was there with him along with the rest of his family when he died. He had been sick for several years, but of course that doesn't make things less difficult.
I can only imagine this was the base for my "situation" last night. I was in bed trying to fall asleep when I ran my tongue over my one crooked tooth. I thought, hm. I wonder if it's shifted. I wonder what it'll be like when I'm 80.
Okay, so no biggie, right? Normally, totally cool. However, in the dead of night those thoughts manifest themselves into epic levels of morbid thought. I started to cry, thinking simply, "I don't ever want to die." Because I don't want to lose my memories. I can't imagine a world in which I--my stuff, my thoughts, my memories--don't exist. So then I start thinking, what does any of it matter? If we lose our memories when we die, which we most certainly do, then why bother to create them? What's the ultimate difference between someone who dies at birth and someone who dies at age 100? Sure, you impact other people, but those people die too and then you become pointless all over again.
I became so absolutely horrified by my own existence, and the idea that it will someday cease, that I was absolutely beside myself. I think it's because I imagine that when we die we go back to how we were before we were born, and there are no memories associated with that. And this idea that I hear about "well, you'll be dead, you won't care" is not appeasing--I *want* to care. I want to always care.
So please, someone, explain this to me. Why are we here? If it's all a matter of just helping ourselves become better, to help others be better, to make life fun and good for however long we're here but then it all goes away forever, then why does it matter if you're successful or a failure? Rich or poor? If your life is amazing or miserable?
Okay...I'm going back to Ghostbusters. This is all too much thought for a Sunday afternoon.
2 comments:
I believe that we live in order to enrich the greater Universe with our stored and created energy. If there is an eventual purpose for our lives, I believe that it is both unknown and unknowable to us.
When we die, I believe that the energy that is our physical body and the energy that is the life we've created is dispersed back into the great cosmic swirl from which it came, there to be re-used by the Universe in whatever way it can be.
I don't necessarily believe that there's any consciousness behind that energy usage, so I won't say "in any way the Universe sees fit," but I do believe that the good works you do during your lifetime create or at least realign energy in a positive way, and that the bad or evil works you do destroy or at least realign energy in a negative way.
So I believe that the purpose of life is to live well and fully and try to do good works whenever you can, and just trust that even though you might never understand what it's all for, someone or some thing, somewhere, someday, will benefit from the energy that you were given during your time here on earth and the additional energy you've created or at least realigned by the effort you've put forth.
There's one opinion for you ...
I'm going to think about this. I like the idea of energy, definitely. Of course my gut reaction is still, what does it matter if the energy is positive or negative if we're not here to enjoy it, but that's my selfish only child self throwing a tantrum :)
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