I was pondering this the whole morning today. Probably because I was hungry and didn’t want to start my day and do something useful (for whom though?). If you ask your husband, your children, your mom, they will tell you without a moment's hesitation: “Yes, of course”. Why would you add “of course” at the end of that? Is it that obvious? Your life probably matters to them. They would be sad and they would be hurt if they love you and you disappeared into the void of space around us. Like you weren’t there at all.
Is that enough to justify your existence? That your mom loves you? I don’t use social media to share my life. When I was a teen, the social media sphere of this planet had just started to expand. I didn’t feel the need to share everything. It was more about hiding stuff about your life than exposing it. But now I do wonder sometimes if this new generation is happier. They should feel interconnected and not alone like I do, shouldn’t they? Are they overwhelmed by constant comparison or are they motivated, enthralled? Is this something that keeps them feeling excited about their own life? I post some photos of me and my “adventures” every now and then to notify people that may know me or remember me that I am still alive. Somehow it reminds me too.
It appears that someone apart from your relatives should think that your life matters for you to feel that it does. I hate talking about feelings. I think it’s our mind’s way of tricking us into doing stuff that we once liked in an attempt to get a new dopamine hit. My mom once told me that she stopped talking to an acquaintance because she felt there was “something wrong” and “sinister” about him. Since I knew the guy as being super kind and helpful that seemed like a strange and cowardly way of hiding the blunt “I don’t like him” or “he offended me” behind these vague “feelings” that she allowed to steer her in her future behavior.
So how many people should think that your life matters before you can exhale and go on with your life without cringing and asking yourself to justify your existence? 20, 1000, 100k? Some should know that for sure now. Like inventors, famous actors, exceptional businessmen, artists? Do you think that being an Instagram artist makes your life worth it? Would you think that if your work were hung in a gallery on 5th Avenue your life would be worth living? Do people like Elon Musk ask themselves if their lives matter? I mean clearly it does, ‘cause you know about him, right?
Some people stop asking those questions when they find themselves through religion. I once believed in God. Not like the creator of the universe and the all-powerful mind that thought up all the physics and chemistry laws (I think I still believe in this kind of god), but in the knowing-everything and caring-in-spite-of-everything God. I didn’t have a choice then. I was a teen under the “undue influence” of my lonely fanatic aunt who was scared to go to hell. Sometimes I would lie in bed and hold the hand of my little sister and pray with all my might that she wouldn’t go to hell (‘cause she should have since she wasn’t believing). I would imagine all the horrors and I would try to imagine how long “indefinitely” was and I would see the face of the devil in the split second between being awake and falling asleep. Then I would go to church and sing with happy people around me and I wouldn’t be scared anymore and it was a personal high. Is that what makes it so addictive? The relief from the fear of dying? I’ve read that volunteering helps. I bet you get a dopamine rush when another being is more helpless than you and depends on you and is grateful to you. I bet it fires all the right pistons in your brain. I need to try that. I like feeling high.
If you were the last person on Earth, would your life matter? Clearly, you couldn’t make anything useful to others, you couldn’t be praised or followed, you couldn’t help anyone. Would your life matter? You wouldn’t be able to make any meaningful, long-lasting change. No one would remember you. How would you spend your time? Some people would probably come up with some “purpose”, like conquering all the highest mountains or learning how to paint like a god. But I would probably watch all the Netflix available and read all the cheap romance novels while eating potato chips.
Does your life matter if it matters to you? Is that enough? What if it doesn’t? What if it isn’t? I don’t know. Do you?
àäðåñà: https://www.poetryclub.com.ua/getpoem.php?id=924024
Ðóáðèêà: Ëèðèêà ëþáâè
äàòà íàäõîäæåííÿ 03.09.2021
àâòîð: Evergreen_Needle