“To live, free and single like a tree
but in brotherhood like a forest
this longing is ours.”
From a comment by Norman Pilon:
You live like you will never die, I think, once you finally come ’round to fully embracing your mortality, to accepting deep down what in the end will be your inevitable fate.
At that point — a point at which you will admittedly have to return to time and again in other moments of concentrated brooding reflection — you simply stop worrying about death and dying because you can’t do a goddamn thing about it, and so you then turn your attention to what you can do: to live each precious moment that is yours as a gift and to try to do something now and again, however inconsequential in the greater scheme of things, to make things a bit better and saner for those you love, both in the here and now, and in a future being shaped here and now, a future you yourself may not live to experience. Because, yes,
You must grieve for this right now
-you have to feel this sorrow now-
for the world must be loved this much
if you’re going to say “I lived” …
(In the end, when all life finally succumbs on this planet — as we know it surely will — nothing will then matter or have mattered. But that will be then. Until then, right now, crucially, only while we draw our breath, does everything matters. That is our greatness, is it not? That we possess a mind sufficiently powerful to deny our nothingness in the face of non being, both existentially and morally. I can and do assert my human existence; and I can and do refuse all human oppression. Because I can.)
Living is no laughing matter
you must live with great seriousness
like a squirrel, for example
I mean without looking for something beyond and above living,
I mean living must be your whole occupation.
You must take living seriously,
I mean so much so and to such a degree
that, for example, your hands tied behind your back,
your back to the wall,
or else in a laboratory in your white coat and safety glasses,
you can die for people
even for people whose faces you have never seen,
even though you know living
is the most real, the most beautiful thing.
I mean, you must take living so seriously
that even at seventy, for example, you’ll plant olive trees
and not for your children, either
but because although you fear death you don’t believe it,
because living, I mean, weighs heavier.
Let’s say we are seriously…
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