I’m currently reading ‘The Fault in our Stars’ and it was only this morning, with less than a chapter to go until the end of the book, I realised the story makes you contemplate mortality. Consequently, here is what ran through my mind on my morning commute.
If you think about it, your existence is quite absurd really. One day you’re just living and you begin on this unfathomable journey of your own personal evolution from baby to toddler to child to adult to elderly person and then all of sudden, you’re not living any more and what happens after that is a mystery. Your life just ends. Everything you’ve known just ends. I suppose the idea is quite petrifying but actually I find the idea of leaving behind those you love to cope with the loss more distressing. I think many of us are caught up in the living of life that we forget to stop and actually realise how wondrous it is to actually be living.
Funnily enough one of my favourite books which I’ve read at least 3 or 4 times stresses this point and yet I’ve never actually taken note of it. I suppose one day (perhaps while reading a book about mortality) it hits you; how strange it is that you’re alive, that you have a life, with people you love and that hopefully love you, your own little world so to speak. And there’s billions of these lives existing simultaneously on this strange planet which we all inhabit. I’m not quite sure why it took reading ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ for that to blow my mind, but it does. It was a very odd feeling to experience this morning on the tube, it felt like I was suddenly very self aware of my humanity and existence and life and what that life would mean and who it would mean something to and how long it would last. I suppose I was just suddenly very aware of my mortality and I found that quite perplexing.