The raw terror of the inevitability of death without comfort of distraction or mental illusion — "fleshing," as Puchner describes it — was brilliantly captured

The raw terror of the inevitability of death without comfort of distraction or mental illusion — "fleshing," as Puchner describes it — was brilliantly captured here in a way I've never before heard or read expressed by another person. It's relieving, in a way, to know that I'm not the only human to chronically go through it. I especially enjoyed his comment on the difficulties of erecting a comforting fantasy of an afterlife: > I’ve endeavored, in my weakest moments, to believe in heaven — or at least some vague, harpless afterlife my brain won’t snicker at. But I’m still pretty much paralyzed with fear. It's a curse, in a way, to have (be?) a brain trained to recognize and solve problems, optimize expected outcome, and see through bullshit when the popular solution to existential debilitating dread — religion — crumbles at the slightest analysis. Ignorance is bliss, to add to Puchner's ostensibly empty bromides. That said, I've personally found that two core ideas can consistently keep me grounded (even in fits of hypercritical 4 a.m. breathless terrors): 1. I'm conscious, which is fundamentally the only thing I can really be sure of. For consciousness to arise in a completely material universe is so outside of any scientific understanding (at least currently) that there may very well be room for a kind of immortality. If consciousness is the universe experiencing itself (to borrow from Alan Watts), perhaps life is just a temporary segmentation of a tiny piece of eternal consciousness that will later be rejoined. 2. If you're reading this (ie: enjoying the temporary luxury of life), you've got a fair chance of living considerably longer than any human that has ever existed (Kurzweil et al.). It's possible that unbounded mortality could be achieved within your lifetime. This presents a new problem: the inevitable heat death of the universe (I realize the irony of immediately complaining about a lifespan that has reached eons, but it would still be a finite existence), but it's possible that there are areas of physics that have yet to be discovered that would permit hopping to a new one. I write this precisely three weeks before getting married to the most wonderful, caring, talented, driven, intelligent, and just generally enjoyable companions I could have imagined spending my life with. I think this event has resurfaced these previously successfully buried distresses: when you have more, you have more to lose. I'm reminded of the "4EVER YOURS" story from this year's Valentines Day Google Doodle[1] that really hits me hard: > "This will end someday...someday, one of us will die, then the other will die, but we have now." The mental tricks are nice for when I'm in a moment of weakness, but there is something starkly beautiful and painfully focusing about the possibility that this could be it. That every time I hold her hand, every adventure we take together, and every late night goofy conversation is limited. It's a clear and constant reminder to really make these cherished moments count, though I wish with every fiber of my existence that I could make them last forever. 1. http://www.google.com/doodles/valentines-day-2014-us http://www.google.com/doodles/valentines-day-2014-us