Life, or The Human Condition


The puzzlement that confounds me beyond distraction when I attempt to think of what would ever lead me to want to take my own life would sizzle the sentience of a supreme sage. How could anybody want to discard such a grandiose gift as life?

I thought of it as I was walking up a steep hill and I could feel the pressure of my foot and shoe against the pavement. Such a simple sensibility is astounding. The ability to feel at all; as the wind brushes across your person and strokes your skin, as you weave in and out of shadows and sunlight, feeling the rhythmic switch from warmth to cool, warmth to cool, warmth to cool; the various sounds that hum about and dance inside of your ears on a daily basis -- the click, release, click, release of your keyboard, the symphony of birds in the morning, the roar of cars through the city centre reminding you of how far humans have come, the intricate nuances of conversation; moreover, the things you see: the wide spectrum of colours that bedazzle your retina every day, from exuberance to dull grime; the fantastically unique texture that every object seems to posses when inspected closely, the rough bricks of older buildings, the smooth and reflective glass of skyscrapers; all of this! How could anybody give up all if that?


And if that wasn't enough, there are other phenomena: the happiness that accompanies connecting with someone on any sort of level; the satisfaction of conducting an interesting conversation, the miracle of inky etches upon a page rousing within you a plethora of emotions, the inexplicable burning you get in your chest when you appraise somebody beautiful or somebody for whom you long, the giddy feeling that courses through your veins when you interact with such a person; the explosion of joy when you've done something you are proud of; the fiery hope within your dreams, ambitions, desires; why throw away such great sensations?


Being human, the human condition -- do you ever just reflect upon how lucky you are to be human? Has it never crossed your mind that, in some possible world, you could have been an ant or a toad or a moth? Then don't you gaze at your house in awe, wonder, and thankfulness at the human ability to create such a sturdy and adequate home from resources on this planet alone, a home flowing with electricity and filled with all your dearest possessions, the things that entertain you or remind you of some blissful instance of the past? Don't you marvel at the internet, connecting, inspiring, and entertaining millions of people? These are human endeavours! Even if you don't feel you have the talent to create such magnificence, isn't it enough to know you're part of it?

How lucky you were to be born human, how lucky you are not to be impoverished, how lucky you are to be healthy...

What on earth would make you want to give this up?

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