We are all going to die

Life is a solo trip, but you’ll have lots of visitors. I say this a lot and always will. Your life is one long unbroken experience, and you’re the only one who’s there the whole time. Visitors will come in and out of your experience. Most of them are short-term and you won’t notice when they’ve made their last appearance.

~ David Cain, from You and your friends are all going to die, and that’s beautiful

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I’ve had this idea myself. That I won’t notice when this instance—this experience right here, right now, with this person—is going to be the last experience with this “visitor.”

You might think, as I once did, that this state of uncertainty must always be the situation. Because, how would you know for sure if this moment right here was the last moment with this visitor?

Have you, perhaps, figured out that answer?

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Our lives are not what we think

Everything there is, everything we know, hinges on this one bizarre, transient condition — existence — which just happens to be your current reality. We regard the miracle of existence as a goldfish regards water, which means we don’t regard it at all. But if you think about it, it’s an exceedingly peculiar fact — that we exist.

~ David Cain from, Our Lives Are Not What We Think

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My energy and drive to write waxes and wanes. But my desire for perspective is constant. Here’s a big ol’ chunk of a different perspective from David Cain.

My favorite sort of perspective—this has happened to me several times—is when I am completely exhausted. Not sleepy, but physically exhausted. Sometimes this has been when I have a slight fever, when a bout with the flu is beginning. But sometimes it’s just after a long day of physical labor. I lay down, and every muscle in my body is completely relaxed. There’s no urge to fidget, and no urge to move. When I’m completely relaxed like this, exhaling is such a delightfully emptying feeling.

…and sometimes my brain gets quiet enough to think, “oh! This is quite nice.”

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