Green Oasis

Once I lost my belief in an afterlife, I was forced to come to terms with the attending despair. I don’t know how much of a choice I had. Wishful thinking didn’t bring me to this place. I would prefer to be immortal.

Life begins to feel futile. My life means very little in the big picture. I will only live for a very brief moment on an unimaginably tiny, unimportant speck of rock in the middle of an incomprehensibly vast, empty, lifeless universe. Everyone that I know and love will die. Chances are that life won’t continue forever. All life will probably become extinct at some point in the future. All my efforts are vanity.

It’s not a pretty picture, but it feels like the truth. I’ve stared straight into that pit of darkness, but to keep my sanity and find happiness, I am forced to focus on the present moment. My despair at facing this possibility is exactly what leads so many atheists to a carpe diem attitude. The briefness and fragility of this life is exactly what makes this present moment so precious. A carpe diem attitude is what emerged when I pushed through to the other side of the despair.

I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit. (Ecclesiastes 1:14)

The despair is similar to my reluctance to do housework. I know that even if I do the dishes tonight, they’re going to be dirty again tomorrow. All my work will be undone. There is no hope of ever being permanently finished with the dishes. So why do the dishes? I wash dishes because I enjoy eating off clean plates with clean utensils. My present enjoyment depends on being mindful of the present moment and not allowing the futility of my efforts in the long term to defeat my happiness now.

When I let to of the worries, the fear, and the frustration of the long future, I find unexpected joy and rejoicing in the vividness of the present moment. Everything else is just a figment of my imagination.

Each day spent is one day closer to oblivion.
Each goodbye may be our last goodbye forever.
Meteoric life slips unrelenting through my grasping fingers.
Irreplaceable moments with them pass unheeded.
Have I wasted my day?
Do they know how deeply I love them?

[Adapted from my comments to a post at SunstoneBlog.]