Why Life in Death
All of life is only worth living because we die. I’ve heard more than one person explain this throughout the past few weeks, It makes sense. Why would we care about anything if we could have it forever? We cherish our loved ones, special moments, delicious food, and beautiful days because it may be the very last time that we experience them. And as much as we grip, savor, and hold on to these sweet and tender spaces, we’re also painfully averse to anything that brings a single moment of our life into depression, shame, guilt, sadness, or anger.
Avoiding these realities is impossible. We’re not capable of eliminating suffering from this world. And at the same time, and in the same way that joy does, it reminds us that our time is finite. What kind of attitude do we want to have as we transit through this physical world- the only one that we know?
I’m currently witnessing a heartbeat in my life that is not my strongest. My current ponderance is - where can I find the point of trying to make life better? I don’t ask the question out of a true desire to finish my story, but a genuine curiosity if I am writing on the right pages. Can you improve your quality of life by searching for it? What is the difference between searching, being open to experiences, and grasping at what you so desperately want but cannot have?
Maybe, because I am 26, live with my parents, and don’t make a lot of money (which as far as I can tell is the only thing that matters),* I feel more pressure than others to figure out what is right and what is wrong. As I’ve mentioned, I don’t have gut feelings, so I have never known a sense of direction. What I do know, especially now, is that nothing feels right. Navigating through this human body, and trying to assure myself that what I am doing with my limited amount of time on this earth is meaningful and purpose-driven feels incredibly deceptive and foolish.
To be honest, I’m tired of hearing that I’ll figure it out, that I’ll know more, and that everything will make sense when I’m older. I don’t doubt it. I feel much more comfortable with myself with every year that passes. But I’m not comforted by the fact that I will need to travel through another decade of insecurity, anxiety, and wandering to know where my feet need to be placed on the earth. I understand that diamonds are made under pressure, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and that any meaningful skill comes from labored practice. And at the same time, what is the point in spending your minimal hours on this earth reaching for something that you will still only witness for a fleeting moment? We don’t get to take any of this with us. Is there a reward in life for spending your precious, limited time on anything?
I don’t think it really matters what you spend your time on. Does it matter if you spend your time at all?
*When I say “money is the only thing that matters,” I mean that money is the only thing that has any kind of cultural value. Figuratively and literally. Money not only allows you to feed, clothe, and house yourself; it permits you to express your values, your passions, and your heart to the world. Without money, you cannot participate in society.