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| Sunset in Laguna, CA |
Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with E for Eternity.
I started thinking (obsessing) about eternity when I was 11 years old. It was summertime, and we were driving from Ohio back to New Jersey after a (rare) visit with my mother’s family. My dad was at the wheel, and his parents were in the backseat ~ it was so odd that they were there too. Perhaps my recollection is incorrect. Many of them likely have elements of made-upedness, which is why I call them “misty memories.” My good friend Asbestos Dust (RIP 💔) described how our memories change as we take them out of the mental box and examine them. I wrote a couple poems about this cool concept.
Anyway. My mom was also in the car, of course, but I don’t remember where she was sitting. This was when cars were enormous, and three people could easily be comfortable in the front or the back on a lengthy trip. I don’t recall exactly where we were, though it was most likely somewhere in Pennsylvania, when it occurred to me that I was going to die. I mean, I was 11, and not stupid, so I already knew, but until this moment had been unaware of the related repercussions, the main one being an eternity of nothingness.
I was overwhelmed with terror. Nothing forever. Just a black blankness of no thoughts, no feelings, nothing. I had the feeling of my stomach dropping like I get when I look down from a great height. I still get that feeling now when I contemplate what comes after death and am envious of anyone who believes in any kind of afterlife. I tried to believe, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed a fantasy, intentionally designed to keep people from living in a paralyzing state of fear.
I didn’t sleep for a year. I know that’s impossible, but I have a (false) memory of not sleeping for the entirety of sixth grade. I lay awake, terrified, and tried to self-soothe by counting and making words out of words. In the daytime, I was groggy and awkward. No one knew. My grades stayed high, so my parents weren’t worried. I tried to discuss my fears with them, but they brushed me off. I have a few memories of these conversations, but I also wrote fiction about this, so my thoughts are once again jumbled up. After that, my father decided he was taking a job in Illinois, so we had to move, and I soon became consumed with moving logistics, which was a nice distraction from obsessing about death and eternity.
This next thing sounds even more fantastical, but it seems I “forgot” about my fear of eternal nothingness for many years, decades even. How is that possible when it consumed me for an entire year?! I don’t know. Maybe my mind was trying to protect itself. Anyway, when I finally remembered, way later, in my 40s, the same stomach-dropping feeling occurred. But this time, I forced myself to keep focusing on the darkness instead of willing it away, until it lost power over me. Somewhat.
It is a disquieting thought, and a hell of a thing for a child to be worried about. Your parents should have been more open to listening to you about it. It's not that nonexistence is so terrible -- we were all similarly nonexistent for all eternity before we were born -- but I would hate the thought of never experiencing anything again or knowing what happens in the future.
ReplyDeleteIt may not be inevitable, by the way. Science is closer to figuring out a cure for the human aging process than most people realize. Once that is widely available, nobody will age or die unless they choose to. People think of death as some great philosophical inevitability, but really it's just another bio-medical problem to be solved, like eradicating smallpox. I doubt this will happen in time for me, but I get the impression you're younger than I am.
That's true about memories being uncertain. After a significant event, people have a tendency to describe it to themselves in their heads, and then what gets remembered is the description more than the event itself. This is an increasingly recognized problem with eyewitnesses to crimes, as well as people who claim to have seen flying saucers and suchlike.
Childhood fears seem so random yet terrifying. I had two of them that I remembered about reading your post. Where in Illinois did you live? That's where I grew up.
ReplyDeleteI was around 9 or 10 when I became aware of death - what was nothing like? I remember at night, shutting my eyes tight and holding my breath - I can't honestly say I remember now what I thought or felt then but I don't remember fear, more like curiosity.
ReplyDeleteIt's a wonder that any of us survives our childhood fears and lack of anyone understanding what we were going through. When I think of eternity I also think of my consciousness separating from my body and taking off to be a part of the energy force that keeps the world turning. Keeps me from thinking about the creepy crawly part about being buried six feet under aka "I" the essence of me, won't be there.
ReplyDeleteI was raised New Age, so when I think of death, I think of reincarnation. There is a theory in physics, conservation of information. Like conservation of energy, it states that information can't be lost. And if we assume that consciousness is information...
ReplyDeleteIt's easy to fixate on things when we are kids. Or, at least it was for me, but I've lately learned I'm neurodivergent. I hope you find some peace.
Paula, I let myself think about what comes after once in awhile but I remember George Harrison's warning, "beware of darkness."
ReplyDeleteMy own philosophy of eternity: Intellectually, I know I'm going to die. But, when I do, I'm convinced that won't be the end of me for all eternity. There's something else. Not harps, clouds, and whatnot. Just something. I believe that matter can neither be created nor destroyed. My essence will go on. I guess the "good" news? I will find out whether I was right or not.
ReplyDeleteInfidel, I'm turning 65 this month, so I doubt the end of death will happen in my lifetime. It's an interesting concept, all thought, no aches & pains. The mutability of memories is a fascinating phenomenon ~ I have written poems based on the idea.
ReplyDeleteKaren, my parents and I lived in a small town named Cary, which was around 40 miles NW of Chicago, for 5 years (1974-79), and then after high school, the three of us moved to the city. Four years later, we all moved to California...
Grace, that's cool you weren't afraid.
MoW, yes, it's too freaky to think about the creepy crawlies!
Liz, reincarnation/conservation is intriguing. Thank you, it's not so bad now to think of it, even though it's a lot closer...
Lisa, I have found (sometimes) that allowing myself to think of the "forbidden" makes it less powerful and upsetting in my mind. Not always, though!
Al, that would be cool. I read a novel where your consciousness finds a memory and dissolves into it taking a new path to who knows where...
The mutability of memories is a fascinating phenomenon ~ I have written poems based on the idea
ReplyDeleteI'd be interested to see those. Do you have a directory of earlier posts or some such thing?
Infidel, I don’t have a directory yet. After the April madness, I plan to put up some pages 🙂
ReplyDelete