When I'm here, when I'm not
I'm feeling existential crises closing in on all sides: people die. I will die. I'm not freaking out about it, but I am... noticing. The inevitable. I watched Betty White's 90th birthday party and thought, "That's how I should be living today, right now. All of that postponing we do, all of that "tomorrow it'll happen;" life is making it happen today
And that is existential reality: one game, one life, no meaning except what we give it, no promise of an afterlife, just a fundamental believe in the idea that no matter and no energy ever goes away.
My friend Sandy is still out there somewhere: not with a "god," not even with her own full sense of identity. But the unique energy that was Sandy is out there, and I don't know what miracle is going to happen to it, or if when she died, that was "game over."
Hence, existential crisis.
And love, which I don't readily equate to existential crisis. Love, reaching out to people, remembering connections and creating new ones: that might be one step away from crisis and one step toward meaning. '
I clearly need to be writing more fanfic.