I had a moment of mortality this morning. More than a moment really, let’s call it five minutes. Waking up in the shower, I started thinking about the future, and how the road ahead is most certainly shorter than the road behind.
For a few short minutes, I could hear the monkey brain raging in it’s cage, and the fear that comes with the eventuality of death and dissolution. The end of all things, or as near as I’ll know.
Real fear, searching for any vague lifeline — I had a flash then that *this* is part of what drives people to believe things they can’t prove. This, the fear of the end.
I don’t believe. I’ve spent years considering that decision, and even in the face of fear, I can not believe without proof.
A few minutes later, the fear drained away. I probably won’t be ready when the end comes, but I’ll do my best to face it head on. I won’t latch on to whispers or fantasy, I can live a lifetime and be satisfied.
I’ll have to, this one’s all I’ve got.