An Existential Inquiry (Part One)
When standing in the middle of the Mojave Desert, you can cast your eyes upward, and on a clear night there seems to be more stars than black space. It's quite amazing. And a reminder of just how much the artificial lights of a city can cast a veil over what's really out there. And you're never bereft of the sight of a falling star. And much of this light, these stars you see have burned out long ago, their natural illumination just now reaching us. A long journey. I mention these things for a reason. An induvidual in my current position in life, having reached general middle age (not a word Jeannie, I know your stance on this, the argument continues), has the opportunity to gaze back upon the past and realize that he is halfway through. The journey has reached its peak and is now descending. And I do not mean to imply that this a bad thing. I'm merely pondering my own mortality. By rights I should never have reached this point. Having almost died, then having almost ended things myself (a centimeter more and the trigger would have clicked) I now consider myself quite lucky. 5 months ago I considered myself unworthy of this life. I now know that was my addiction speaking to me. Alcoholism and drug addiction does not discriminate. Nor does it care about the numbers of lives it permeates and destroys from within. It is a disease without a cure. That's all I will write on that particular subject. Just know that I am an addict. An alcoholic. But that does NOT mean it defines me.
So. When a person starts thinking about his existence, and I speak of REALLY thinking, and this person has never subscribed to any organized religion, never thought there was a God out there who was ubiquitous and in control of all things, he is free to delve into incredily abstract ideas. These are the thoughts that currently occupy my mind. And the more I ask myself why I'm still here, the more I begin to wonder if it is for a reason. A reason not yet known to me. And very likely never to be known. And when I look up at the stars, and wonder just how long
ago that light extinguished, I have to also wonder that when my light is extinguished, how long after will I continue to shine. How long will I be remembered. How long until time erodes and washes away any and all evidence that I was ever even here. And if there is no afterlife, should I even care? And if there is an afterlife what will that entail? And will the things I did during my dark days influence what is to become of me. Which brings me to another idea...the soul or the mind? Come back tomorrow night. Buddhist's may want to interject....G'night all...
When standing in the middle of the Mojave Desert, you can cast your eyes upward, and on a clear night there seems to be more stars than black space. It's quite amazing. And a reminder of just how much the artificial lights of a city can cast a veil over what's really out there. And you're never bereft of the sight of a falling star. And much of this light, these stars you see have burned out long ago, their natural illumination just now reaching us. A long journey. I mention these things for a reason. An induvidual in my current position in life, having reached general middle age (not a word Jeannie, I know your stance on this, the argument continues), has the opportunity to gaze back upon the past and realize that he is halfway through. The journey has reached its peak and is now descending. And I do not mean to imply that this a bad thing. I'm merely pondering my own mortality. By rights I should never have reached this point. Having almost died, then having almost ended things myself (a centimeter more and the trigger would have clicked) I now consider myself quite lucky. 5 months ago I considered myself unworthy of this life. I now know that was my addiction speaking to me. Alcoholism and drug addiction does not discriminate. Nor does it care about the numbers of lives it permeates and destroys from within. It is a disease without a cure. That's all I will write on that particular subject. Just know that I am an addict. An alcoholic. But that does NOT mean it defines me.
So. When a person starts thinking about his existence, and I speak of REALLY thinking, and this person has never subscribed to any organized religion, never thought there was a God out there who was ubiquitous and in control of all things, he is free to delve into incredily abstract ideas. These are the thoughts that currently occupy my mind. And the more I ask myself why I'm still here, the more I begin to wonder if it is for a reason. A reason not yet known to me. And very likely never to be known. And when I look up at the stars, and wonder just how long
ago that light extinguished, I have to also wonder that when my light is extinguished, how long after will I continue to shine. How long will I be remembered. How long until time erodes and washes away any and all evidence that I was ever even here. And if there is no afterlife, should I even care? And if there is an afterlife what will that entail? And will the things I did during my dark days influence what is to become of me. Which brings me to another idea...the soul or the mind? Come back tomorrow night. Buddhist's may want to interject....G'night all...