"I can't bear to leave my room today. I feel altogether too weak......but the weakness that comes with sadness, which is much worse. I am starting to think sadness is organic; that sad people are cursed with more insight than others. While our smiles defy our bitter plight, our tears acknowledge it.
Maybe that's why the only people who have really interested me in my life besides children----are those who have experienced the loss of a loved one. People who haven't felt the caustic burn of death are like students who haven;t yet held a real job; the world is still theoretical; intellectualized, vigorously debated, nut not fully comprehended.
Any search for the deeper meaning in our lives has to start at our deaths. That's the fundamental overwhelming dilemma of our humanity. But the absurdity of our lives--which I can now only see clearly--is our unwillingness to concede that we are in a bit of a pickle in the first place. It's quite funny, really: several billion people all feigning immortality, as though they each have some secret exemption, or at least an indefinite future, and thus can not afford to run down the clock without the least sense of urgency. And the incredible thing is, you can live....and still not make the most of the time you have got."
So are we living fully, making the most of every moment? If not what is it going to take to make fully living happen? Do we fear our own death as Jonathon Hull suggests? Not wanting to face our own immortality.
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