(Wasn't sure if I should put this here or in the Atheism section.)

I think I am one of the few atheists here who still struggles with mortality, and with the concept of impermanence in general. I've heard the analogies about parties and movies: 'you can still enjoy the [fill in the blank] even though you know it's going to end.' And, I've heard Hitchens' bittersweet adaptation: 'the party is going to continue, but I have to leave.' It's all about the experience. But, I find no solace in these.

They're decent analogies but they ultimately fail me, because when you leave a party you get to go home; you get to call your mom, watch Netflix, reminisce about it with your husband, and remember how much fun you had (or didn't have). In these analogies there is still an experience after the experience. There is still a frame of reference; an internal narrative.

Why should mortality bother me so much? It seems like most of you guys here have adjusted fine to the idea. Why can't I? I think my existential crisis is this: The end of my conscious experience is completely indistinguishable from never having had that experience at all. The very moment "I" cease to exist, it will literally be as though "I" never existed in the first place. From "my" POV it will be like time snapping backwards. It's the ultimate dissolution. So, why be bothered at all?

I know, I know...once I'm dead I won't know or care about any of this so it's silly to perseverate on it now, but sometimes I feel like I've been stuck in one of the five stages of grief for years, and I can't get past it.

So, now you guys tell me to quit being a whiny, depressing, emo-baby and make some dick jokes so I can come back to my sense, okay? [HEAVY BLACK HEART]️

I think it's perfectly normal that the idea of mortality is very hard to grasp. After all, the sense of self is literally connected to 100% of the world view-- "tree" is a composite of your experiences of tree as a human being. "Love" is a word that you've mapped to your own sensations. Trying to understand a world without the self is like trying to understand a Universe without space and time-- it boggles the brain. In a sense, I think you aren't coming up only against the specific idea of a Universe without you, but the unfathomable paradox of existence-vs-non-existence at all.

At least in my case, I get the terrors when I try to think why there IS anything rather than nothing-- I can't see how anything has arisen-- where did it come from? Where did THAT come from? It feels to me that it shouldn't have-- there should be nothing. Sometimes I'm so convinced of that that I doubt if I myself an an illusion, but still-- how is it that there is something capable of experiencing that illusion? It's boggling in its infinity, but somehow, philosophically, it seems like existence is a mistake-- that it is a fragile thing, a tiny accidental blip, and that I have to hang on to that thread, because there might be nothing else, ever, or even an ever in which something might exist, if I let it go.

I don't know if that makes sense or not-- I don't just feel I'm scared of dying. I'm scared of existence itself disappearing at some point.

You could make your mark on society so that a part of you remains immortal after your mortal flesh has been returned to dust.

Having kids is one way people do that.

Another way could be any number of ways; which includes writing a book, creating an art piece, etc.

When you consider the afterlife in all situations is not preferable to oblivion, even that seems to give no comfort (upon critical examination, not when you're one of those la-di-dah heads) but at least as an atheist there should be no reason to be fearful of consequences to follow.

That said, the freedom to choose what purpose in life you fulfill is a wonderful thing, and even if it's as minor as simply having a child and raising them to continue your genetic line, well, there's a part of you that will live on and you'll have started (or continued yourself) a chain reaction that will ripple through time long after your own death. If you spend the time you have doing things you love and enjoy, to the point where you've done everything you've ever wanted, I think there will come a time when you'll feel better about the idea of death. "I did it...I finished the race before time ran out." Because you get to decide where the finish line is, well, you may find it easier to get across it before the countdown ends than others with loftier or more unrealistic aspirations.

If it still bothers you, try constantly distracting yourself with stimuli. It's what I do to combat general depression and lingering angry resentments as best I can. I usually have at least two monitors blaring at me at all times when I'm home or some kind of audio stimulus while I'm out biking. You could also try exercising more, that's supposed to reduce stress. Or talk to a psychotherapist, there's no shame in seeking help for this kind of thing or anything else, really.

(July 5, 2017 at 9:35 pm)LadyForCamus Wrote: (Wasn't sure if I should put this here or in the Atheism section.)

I think I am one of the few atheists here who still struggles with mortality, and with the concept of impermanence in general.  I've heard the analogies about parties and movies: 'you can still enjoy the [fill in the blank] even though you know it's going to end.'  And, I've heard Hitchens' bittersweet adaptation: 'the party is going to continue, but I have to leave.'  It's all about the experience.  But, I find no solace in these.  

I find no solace in my own acceptance of mortality, either.  It doesn't bother me, I consider every day for years now a borrowed day - but.  

Maybe there is no solace to be had? 

Quote:They're decent analogies but they ultimately fail me, because when you leave a party you get to go home; you get to call your mom, watch Netflix, reminisce about it with your husband, and remember how much fun you had (or didn't have).  In these analogies there is still an experience after the experience.  There is still a frame of reference; an internal narrative.

Why should mortality bother me so much?  It seems like most of you guys here have adjusted fine to the idea.  Why can't I?  I think my existential crisis is this: The end of my conscious experience is completely indistinguishable from never having had that experience at all.  The very moment "I" cease to exist, it will literally be as though "I" never existed in the first place.  From "my" POV it will be like time snapping backwards.  It's the ultimate dissolution.  So, why be bothered at all?

Even the party you left, should you never make it home, as it were, is changed by your having been there.  People will tell stories.  Maybe something you build will outlast you (that's where I find my own solace, insomuch as it can be found).   Why be bothered, IDK.  Who knows?  If it isn't a bother in life it won't be in death.  I actually don't know how that question is meaningfully changed with the addition of mortality.  Thjere's no sdolace here, either...since the things we build might be shitty, the stories people tell may be horrible. I remind the geriatrics in my family of that whenever they have an old moment. "The stories I tell about you, will outlive you, so be careful".

Quote:I know, I know...once I'm dead I won't know or care about any of this so it's silly to perseverate on it now, but sometimes I feel  like I've been stuck in one of the five stages of grief for years, and I can't get past it.  

So, now you guys tell me to quit being a whiny, depressing, emo-baby and make some dick jokes so I can come back to my sense, okay?  [HEAVY BLACK HEART]️

Stop being a whiny emo baby...this thread is 3 dick jokes shy of quota.  Not just any dick jokes, epic dick jokes...that people will tell stories about.   

Personally, the point of it all, for me, is to build a foundation for a house that can hold and feed and provide for generations of my family. That way, when I'm dead...no matter how much shit my descendants talk about me..they'll be doing so from the comfort of what I left them. Go ahead, talk shit about me on the boat I built. Talk shit about me while you sit at my hearth. Talk shit about me under my roof, eating my food on my land with my children. I won;t be there to give a fuck, but everyhting I leave behind will be giving fucks left right and center. It'll be giving all the fucks, Katie.

(July 5, 2017 at 9:35 pm)LadyForCamus Wrote: Why should mortality bother me so much?  It seems like most of you guys here have adjusted fine to the idea.  Why can't I?  I think my existential crisis is this: The end of my conscious experience is completely indistinguishable from never having had that experience at all.  The very moment "I" cease to exist, it will literally be as though "I" never existed in the first place.  From "my" POV it will be like time snapping backwards.  It's the ultimate dissolution.  So, why be bothered at all?

I know, I know...once I'm dead I won't know or care about any of this so it's silly to perseverate on it now, but sometimes I feel  like I've been stuck in one of the five stages of grief for years, and I can't get past it.  

Hey LfC -
Bold is mine-
Everything ok?

That's not even true in my opinion. You have kids and "you" will live on through them. Or anything else you create that lasts in a meaningful way.
Hell, when I play a Bach tune, there he is - on my violin, on youtube and many other places. He bit the dust almost 300 years ago but he lives on through what he created.

Sure, I believe that when I die I won't live on after death. But I don't think about that too much in my daily life. Only when I'm feeling down, which is why I asked if you're ok.

-Teresa

When I realized it was all hooey, I was genuinely disappointed not to have that really long personal view any more. I really was bummed. But I also realized there would be no way to negotiate that fact. Kaput is kaput. Fairy tales are more fun but they're still fairy tales.

Maybe you could volunteer in some capacity with the dying. Want to come hold my hand in twenty years or so?

Whatevs is an optimist. The kind of guy who thinks that the glass is half not dead.  

I think we all go through this one in a while.

I've seen my fair share of death, both peaceful and not-so-peaceful, and the thought of death, me no longer going on, doesn't really bother me.

Saying that, I still have an occasional thought pop up randomly in the back of my mind and propelled to the front that states, "Hey, this is it. One day you won't be here!"

And, for a couple of hours, the thought of mortality is on my mind.

But, having seen what I've seen, I prefer to think about living as much as I can. Going out an having new experiences (some of which my father tells me will kill me one day).

It's an old cliché' but if you spend all your time thinking about dying, you'll forget to live.

If it's any consolations, we'll all get a kind of resurrection when the zombie apocalypse happens, anyway.

Here's a dick joke.




Now lighten up.