We are all grass.
12:29 p.m.
Sometimes I envy people who believe that there is more to the world than we can see, that when they slough off this mortal coil, that which makes them them continues to exist on some other plane, thus perpetuating their own existence. However, I am not among those who believe in a “hereafter”. Based solely on observation with the empiric method, and on testimonials from those who have returned to tell me about olam haba (which means no one), I have come to recognize that this life, the one we are presently living, is the only one we get. It is my humble and sincere opinion that once my neurons cease firing and all vital signs shut down, this body which houses my consciousness will decay, becoming worm food (or grass, if you believe in the philosophy of The Li0n King) and the consciousness it once housed will have ceased to exist in the same way that the light goes out when you turn off the lamp. While being more complicated than a simple electrical appliance, the energy which make my brain work so well is not that much different from the force that causes a thin strip of tungsten to glow inside a vacuum tube.
However, this started out with my envy of those who believe otherwise. Those happy deluded souls (if I may use that generic term) have the comforting notion that somehow, somewhere, there is a better life than the one they are living in the here and now. They adhere to religious beliefs which affirm these notions, and in fact reinforce them with promises that the more they suffer now, the more they deprive themselves of the things that make them content, the more they do for others and the less they do for themselves, the greater their reward once they vacate the bodies that house their miserable psyches. Paradoxically, these same religions (for the most part) do not condone self-slaughter, which would seem to be the solution to living in this hell on earth that most people find themselves in. The only famous example I can think of that actually negates this way of thought is the promise of paradise to the disaffected youths who strap live ammunition onto their bodies and then blow themselves up, along with countless innocent others, in the name of their faith.
Not being under the illusion that I will be rewarded elsewhere (or elsewhen: read karma) for the life I lead today, I am under a great responsibility to make what I do have count. There will not be another chance to make up for a life poorly lived later. No, it is up to me to make the most of what I have now. This means that I want to remain as healthy as I can to make this life last as long as it can (seeing as how the end is the end). It also means I want the lives of the people I love to be good, as their happiness increases my happiness. It means that I even feel responsible for those people I don’t know, the ones whom I read about in the newspapers, who suffer because their leaders (religious and/or political) have notions that further their own happiness and disregard the overall wellbeing of their flock. Of course, there is a limit as to how much responsibility I can shoulder when it comes to the overall contentment of the world at large, but I still feel for these poor folks. Fortunately for most of them, they are under the illusion that things will improve drastically when they die. Sure, life is hard, but afterwards you get your 14 virgins, or you get to sit at the right hand of the father, or you can eat all you want without worrying about the cholesterol.
I can’t wait that long. Life is short and totally accidental. Yes, accidental. It was just a matter of chance that your mother’s ovum happened to allow that particular sperm of your dad’s to penetrate its outer membrane, and the miracle that is cell division occurred to produce the unique individual who became you. The experiences then accumulated, the nurture that shaped your personality, and you became what you are today: the snowflake so like its fellows, and yet so different at the same time.
I don’t have a problem with my opinion. Others do, I know. They see it as a heresy. Fine, let them. It is part of their indoctrination, part of the idea that they are not alone in the world, that someone watches over them, and ultimately takes them into his/her capacious bosom, alleviating suffering, and pain, and mortality. It is a very comforting notion, actually, kind of like always having mommy or daddy around to look after you, bail you out when you screw up, kiss your scrapes when you hurt yourself, and give you solace when you are depressed. I think I actually believed that once myself, until the empiric method taught me that it simply wasn’t so.
So, you ask me, how can you live with yourself? Easily, I reply. Ultimately, I am the one responsible for making my life good or bad. When bad things happen to good people, there is no retribution involved, there is no resorting to prayer. Instead, there is action or there is acceptance. You can rail against a cruel deity, or you can rail against a cruel world. In the end, it really won’t make any difference. We are all grass.
[Watch for Part the Second tomorrow.]
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