Ultimately, the fear of death is not just an emotion to overcome, but an important part of our existence that can be a source of growth and transformation. By understanding our mortality, we can learn to live more fully, appreciate the present, and prepare for what is beyond our understanding.
We are all, including me. simply afraid of disappearing. Is my quest simply a search for my myth? Do I want to live forever, do I want to be forever?
I am afraid. I fear what lies ahead, what might happen suddenly and without warning. It’s not a fear of pain or suffering, but a fear of the moment when I simply won’t exist. How do I come to terms with that?
I think about how death is something that happens to others, to people I’ve seen on screen, read about in books, known personally. But now I feel it coming towards me, like something inevitable and inescapable. At some point, perhaps much closer than I realize, I will cease to exist. And then what? Where will I be? What will become of my thoughts, feelings, memories? How is it possible to cease to exist? It’s so incomprehensible.
I think I can console myself by thinking that death is a natural part of life, that billions of people have gone through this before me. But these thoughts bring no comfort. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m losing something important, that my life, with all its experiences and aspirations, will eventually disappear, dissolve into eternity. And even if I’m remembered for some time, there will still come a day when there will be no one left to remember.
I wonder: why does this scare me so much? Maybe because death is the ultimate unknown. We are used to being in control of our lives, making decisions, influencing events. But here, in the face of death, I feel powerless, and this terrifies me.
Perhaps the fear of death is actually the fear of unfulfilled dreams, of unrealized potential. I’m afraid of leaving without having done what I wanted, without having achieved what I aspired to. I'm afraid that I won't have time to say important words, won't have time to experience something meaningful, won't have time to be truly happy.
But maybe the point is to understand that the fear of death is not only the fear of the end, but also the fear of living an incomplete life. Maybe it's a reminder that every moment is important, that you need to live consciously and not put off what is truly important for later. Maybe it's worth using this fear as an impulse to live more intensely, to appreciate every moment, to not be afraid to take steps forward, even if they seem difficult or scary.
I stand under the streams of water and feel the warmth penetrating my body. Maybe I will never find the answer to this question, but maybe it's not so much about conquering fear as it is about learning to live with it, accepting it and using it as a reminder that life is what happens here and now.
Sometimes I think about how much our perception of the world and ourselves is saturated with mythology. Each of us, perhaps without realizing it, lives in a world of myths that we create and support with our own consciousness. These myths become our reality, determining how we see the world around us, how we understand ourselves and our place in the Universe.
Our brain is a kind of myth factory. From early childhood, we begin to absorb the stories and images that surround us. They form our ideas about good and evil, happiness and suffering, life and death. These myths can be personal, connected with our individual experience, or cultural, passed down through generations. We give them life, believe in them and build our reality on their basis.
But no one knows what the world really is. All we know are our interpretations, our myths about it. Science, religion, philosophy - they are all, in a sense, myths, attempts to explain the inexplicable. They give us a sense of stability and certainty, but if you dig deeper, you will find a huge ocean of uncertainty and the unknown beneath their surface.
The world is uncertain, and perhaps will never be fully understood. We cannot know what lies beyond our senses, beyond our ability to perceive. All we have are the interpretations we create to make order out of the chaos around us. These interpretations, these myths, help us feel more secure, give us a sense of meaning.
It is interesting that our myths are not static. We constantly revise them, change them, adapt them to new conditions. The mythology of our consciousness is a living process that never stops. We create our own stories and then live within them as if they were absolute truth. However, by realizing this, we can begin to see our lives in a new light. To understand that the myths we believe in are just constructs we have created ourselves. This can give us the freedom to choose which myths to support and which to leave behind.
Our brains are mythological by nature. This is their way of coping with a world that is immeasurably more complex than we can imagine. We tell ourselves stories to find meaning, to gain control, to create the illusion that we understand what is happening around us. And maybe this is not such a bad thing. After all, myths, if we are aware of their nature, can become tools for self-development and self-knowledge.
By realizing the mythological nature of our minds, we can learn to be more flexible, open, and ready for the inevitable changes in our lives and perceptions. We can use myths as a means to explore ourselves and the world, accepting them not as the final truth, but as part of our endless journey in search of meaning.
I used to think that compassion was a manifestation of humanity. But life has shown me that it is just another mask that we put on to seem better than we really are. I have seen how beggars pick at their sores to evoke pity, how the dying use their illness to manipulate others. Death, it would seem, should free a person from suffering, but it also carries a deception. The dying often play their last roles, trying to leave a good memory of themselves. They refuse food and water not because of torment, but to demonstrate their courage and indifference to physical suffering. Life is an endless series of suffering, and death is the only way to get rid of it. But even death does not bring relief, but only transfers us to another dimension of suffering, where there is no body, no feelings, but eternal emptiness and loneliness.
Damn it, maybe the Sumerians from the Enuma Elish scripture are right?! Maybe we are just abandoned by the Gods to our fate! We are doomed to work and suffer and live fantasies on a pebble in the void!
This Sumerian epic about the creation of the world reveals to us not only the cosmogonic ideas of the ancient Sumerians, but also their understanding of human nature and purpose. The idea that humans were created by the gods to serve and worship, and their main role is to be slaves to the gods, is clearly evident in this text.
According to the Enuma Elish, humans did not arise by their own will or by chance, but as a result of a conscious creative act of the gods. When the supreme god Marduk defeated chaos and established order in the universe, the gods decided to create beings that could do their work and bear the burden of labor. This is precisely why humans were created. Their job was to take care of the land, build temples, make sacrifices, and maintain the well-being of the gods through worship.
Man in this myth is presented as a creature born for work that serves the gods. Worship and service in Sumerian culture were not only an act of religious ritual, but also hard physical work. People built cities and temples, erected altars, and made sacrifices - all of this was perceived as a direct obligation to the gods, a form of slavery, in modern terms.
Thus, the Enuma Elish emphasizes the idea that man's purpose is to be a servant of the gods, fulfilling their will and ensuring their well-being. Man was created as a tool to make life easier for the gods, freeing them from routine work. This concept emphasizes that in the minds of the Sumerians there was a clear division between the divine and the human: the gods rule, and people serve.
For the Sumerians, worship of the gods was not a simple expression of spiritual devotion, but literally labor, physical and moral, that they performed to maintain cosmic order. Man was placed in this world for the sole purpose of working for the gods, serving them, and thus maintaining the balance of the universe.
This idea of slavery to the gods and labor as a form of worship formed the basis of the Sumerian worldview and determined their daily life. In every action, from farming to building, they saw a manifestation of their destiny, their obligation to the gods, which they had to fulfill throughout their lives.
We must regard our existence as a kind of wandering from which to return would be salvation: such is its entire character. The ancient Samanaean religion understands human existence in this sense; the present, primitive Christianity understands it in the same way, although with some deviations; even Judaism itself contains, at least in the legend of the Fall (this "compensatory feature" of it), the germ of such a view. Only Greek paganism and Islam are completely optimistic: that is why in the former the tendency, opposed to optimism, had to seek an outlet at least in tragedy; in Islam, which is the newest and the worst of all religions, this tendency appeared as Sufism - a beautiful phenomenon, in its source and spirit certainly Hindu and now more than a thousand years old. In fact, it is impossible to point to any other goal for our existence than the understanding that it would be better if we did not exist at all. This is the most important of all truths, and it must therefore be stated, no matter how much it contradicts the world-view of modern Europe; after all, it represents in all of non-Muslim Asia now, as it did three thousand years ago, a generally recognized fundamental truth.
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