Category: Philosophy

  • The Purpose of Life

    When seeking purpose it is almost inevitable that the search will at some point prompt us to confront our most personally held beliefs about religion, spirituality, and faith. Strange though that many times this is equated with purpose despite most people not tying that self-proclaimed purpose to the manner in which they wade through life. Religion and spirituality is often practised and defined as a specific extension of who we are but rarely defines our complete being, which poses a challenge to the claim that religion gives us purpose especially when considered in light of the priorities we tend to focus on in an ordinary day. Those priorities are rarely aligned with that purpose that we convince ourselves is the beacon by which we steer our course through this world.

    It’s even more strange when I observe people turning to sages and scholars to seek guidance as to their (those people’s) purpose which in turn informs their sense of religiosity or spirituality, often without them even realising it. Most often it ends up confirming their subscription to someone else’s purpose rather than them realising their own purpose. I speak of this in the third person because it is something that I can’t ever recall relating to. There was a time in my youth when learning through academic processes about my choice of religion or cultural practices was an expected indulgence in order for me to be a successful part of the system that society constructed around me. However, applying those learnings without question should only last as long as it takes us to achieve a sense of self where deliberate and conscious effort defines our actions rather than habit or indoctrination.

    The problem is that most people rarely move beyond the indoctrinated mindset because of the fear of being excommunicated from the social circles of which they long to be a significant member. However, so deeply is that fear of exclusion ingrained that even suggesting that they follow blindly in order to appease yields the most aggressive responses, sometimes cloaked in excessive overt spirituality. Unless we break away from such conditioning and start reflecting on our individual accountability for the belief system that we subscribe to, we’ll risk living a life devoid of purpose but cleverly disguised by our subservience to someone else’s calling as being purposeful.

    Our choices or decisions must be based on truths or observations that we have realised in our own lives. It always amazes me to see how easily taken we are by the ramblings of scientists or scholars that define theories and dogma that relies on faith and cannot be proven in this lifetime, but again we fight jealously to defend the indoctrination that we subscribe to while believing that its propagation is our higher calling in life. This applies to both theists and atheists alike. We push ideas and philosophies down each other’s throats insisting that the opposing party is misguided or lacking in intelligence while forgetting that our assumption of intelligence is in fact arrogance, which if considered within the grand scheme of just the observable reality confirms our stupidity instead. I mean, how can we possibly assume a level of arrogance about these belief systems when we’re mere subjects of it rather than designers?

    The problem I have with theists and atheists alike (for the most part) is that they do nothing more than deconstruct each others arguments without providing anything of substance in return. Theories are not substance, they’re only assumptions based on other assumptions that have been accepted to be reasonable assumptions, but nonetheless remain as nothing more than assumptions. So if we are to assume that atheists are correct, then there’s no point in the circular debates or discussions because our lives will only amount to that which our imagination allows it to as long as we’re breathing, since nothing comes after this life. And if that is indeed true, isn’t it a waste of an atheist’s life for them to try to convince others of this ‘truth’ that they believe they have uncovered if it all amounts to nothing once we’re dead? The average theists’ view is just as problematic because they try to convince the atheist that their belief based entirely on faith is a concrete belief because the scriptures say it is so, but often fail dismally when being asked to practically demonstrate the reality of what they profess to be the truth.

    Our legacies serve only to feed our egos. Nothing we leave behind is of any worth to us once we die if the atheist’s view of the world is anything to go by. So again, I ask, if there is no purpose to life except what we construct for ourselves, and then surround ourselves with like-minded individuals that serve only to prop up our egos because of the inherent effect of affirmation, why then should atheists be bothered with whether or not theists believe them, or for that matter, believe in an unseen god? Similarly, why should a theist become obsessed with the belief system of an atheist if they have no physical proof to offer? So where does the truth lie regarding whose definition of the purpose of life is in fact true?

    For the atheists, by their very own philosophy regarding the nothingness that comes after death, any attempt to convince anyone else of why atheists are correct would be a waste of life given how finite life is. However, for the theist, their belief in the after life defines their purpose and conviction in wanting to improve the lots of others and to see others subscribe to a set of values and principles that they believe will hold them in good stead when they believe it will matter most. i.e. on the Day of Judgement. So strictly speaking, if we compare the indoctrination of the one against the other, atheists generally tend to be living the agenda of the theists by insisting on propagating a belief system that holds no value for the disbeliever (so to speak) since by atheistic standards, the theist will amount to nought once they’re dead.

    So perhaps it is time for both sides to realise this and instead of trying to convince each other of the merits of their belief systems, their focus should be on realising the value of their belief systems in a practical manner in their lives so that the demonstration of such benefits may serve as a consolation for the lack of hard evidence regarding who is right. Perhaps through our internalised focus of who we are and what we subscribe to, and the resultant dictate that we should be true to that conviction in everything we say and do, we will convince others of the veracity of our claims to be on the path of truth or intelligence.

    The purpose of life therefore lies not in what is professed, nor in what is dictated or indoctrinated, nor in rituals or in irreverence but rather in what is realised to be of meaning beyond the selfish accomplishments of our own existence. In fact, I would hazard to go as far as saying that even if the theist strives to selfishly achieve the goals of their afterlife independent of their contribution to society, such a goal will remain elusive after death because of the neglect of their duties and the rights of those around them.

    So in choosing my purpose in life, I have found myself inclined to reflect and observe rather than to dictate or indoctrinate, and in so doing, I’ve chosen those ways and philosophies that align with what I believe to be a logical outcome to this life. Even the casual observer can see that true justice does not exist in this lifetime. Even an eye for an eye does not yield true justice because the loss of an eye for a singer does not bear as much consequences as the loss of an eye for a scientist. It is exactly such relativity that dictates that the human need for justice cannot ever be fulfilled in this world. Considering this reality, for me, it therefore stands to reason that justice is only possible under the informed judgement of the One that created this system of cause and effect. If no true justice is possible in this world, and there was no consequence to this life except for those rewards or difficulties we earned in this lifetime, then what could possibly keep us obliged to respect the rights of another? In fact, on what authority would we then define those rights, or respect it? If such authority is established in society as a whole, who then establishes the authority for the imposition of those rights and responsibilities on the one that refuses to subscribe to society’s ideals?

    It therefore stands to reason that in the absence of such a higher authority my right to murder or plunder must be respected just as much as another’s right to protect and maintain. This creates an impossible situation and fails to answer the most basic need of being human and that is to be treated fairly and to be maintained in a dignified manner. If we were to assume that that were just an evolution of societal standards, it would result in each of us being aggressors on anyone that disagrees because the imposition of our will through self-proclaimed authority will be the only means through which such a ‘natural’ order could be maintained. This seems illogical on all levels, and it is through such and similar reflections that I have arrived at my choice of purpose in life, as well as my subscription to a belief system that aligns with such observations and aspirations. But that is my purpose that I have chosen for myself. The moment I choose to impose that on someone else under the guise of wanting them to be guided correctly, I merely feed my ego and betray any higher purpose that I may profess to be serving.

    For this reason, if nothing else, there can be no compulsion in religion. By extension, there can be no dictate of purpose either. We must seek to consciously choose our values in life, and if the belief systems that claim to be divinely inspired are indeed so, then it stands to reason that such introspection and observation will lead one to be aligned with such a belief system and compulsion for compliance will never be needed, nor justified.

     

  • From Virtual to Reality

    I launched a new forum at the office this week. It’s called the Thought Leadership Forum. I know, it sounds clichéd, and it probably is. But that is the extent of the cliché. I’ve often felt frustrated at the lack of real life engagement about the many ideas and philosophies that I debate at length with myself on my blog wondering if any of it has any real  life value. How much of it is simply idealism that entertains or encourages from time to time, versus how much of it holds practical value in helping others to rise above the lethargy that has become the hallmark of many lives these days?

    So I decided to be bold (perhaps recklessly stupid instead) and opened up the debate to more than 60 of my colleagues at the office. It was daunting to even consider this but over the last year and a bit I’ve been experimenting with sharing my blog with various people around me. People that often seem to want advice or even just to engage about topics that I am obviously passionate about. At first I felt a sense of trepidation which didn’t last any longer than it took for me to realise that their validation was of no consequence to me. There was always the risk that they would ridicule my ramblings, but strangely enough most have lost interest in a very short space of time. Some have commented vaguely on the content and the topics but none have engaged meaningfully about anything that they read.

    That in itself provided an insight into my fears and assumptions, as well as their sincerity about wanting to truly challenge the stereotypes that they’re often prone to whining about. I focused on the former since I’ve realised that trying to convince people to take themselves seriously is a futile effort. People only ever take themselves seriously after they’re faced with a grave challenge in their life that forces them to question their significance to those around them, and more importantly, when they’re forced to face the truth of what they claim to stand for. It takes a defining moment of sublime struggle to cause us to question our purpose or our understanding of ourselves. At moments like that we realise what dreams we were holding on to but rarely, if ever, nurtured.

    And so I set out to start the debate in the first session of the Thought Leadership Forum that I launched and was pleasantly surprised at both the turnout and the level of engagement. It’s early days, and there is nothing to suggest that this initiative might even survive beyond its second session, but the fact that I was able to force people to stop and reconsider their long held perspectives about common issues that we often take for granted on a daily basis is a really good thing. It was encouraging to see how many were confident enough to make statements about what they believed were universal truths, only to stop and give a nervous giggle when it was challenged because they realised that they didn’t necessarily consider it from that perspective before.

    Perhaps, selfishly, I needed to take this blog from virtual reality to reality in order to test the water about my personal beliefs and its relevance to the average human being. Perhaps this is my way of determining whether or not there is merit in writing that book after all, or if my thoughts and ideas are simply pedestrian by nature and instead of causing people to sit up and listen, it may instead cure their insomnia. Perhaps this is the beginning of a new chapter in my life where I aspire to influence people in reality rather than to continue to hide behind the comfort offered by the nuances of virtuality.

    People are strange. Sometimes, almost as strange as I know them to be.

  • The Distraction

    There are apparently books written about how to form habits, how to break habits, how to do things smarter, and so on, but I have yet to see anyone connect the dots between habits, efficiency, and life. Not just life as in a pleasant or interesting existence, but life as in the limited time we have on this earth. That clock that starts counting down from it’s first tick to your last breath. That’s the life that we need to connect to these habits that we unwittingly adopt in our lives as we try to figure things out.

    Some consciously form habits out of mundane tasks to reduce the mundanity, while others do so out of compulsion in their desire for order or routine, or more accurately, predictability. Neither appeals to me. For me, my habits are constantly evolving because doing the same thing in the same way for any extended period of time gnaws at my sub-conscious forcing me to wonder if I’m beginning to stagnate or not. For me, establishing routine or forming a habit lasts only as long as it takes me to find an easier or less complicated way to do it. In other words, I’m lazy.

    I’m too lazy to do in five steps what I can do in two steps. This is what I believe drives me to want to create order out of chaos, or to want to introduce efficiencies even in places where good enough is good enough. While it is tiring at times to find myself constantly distracted by wasteful efforts, I’ve recently realised that the more efficiency I create in the unavoidable mundane activities, the more life I have available for growth, or experiencing new indulgences, and so much more. And that is the connection that I believe we miss.

    We miss the point of how much life we’re wasting while taking the time and effort to do in five steps what could be done in two. Sure, if  there are other joys or benefits obtained from the long winded approach while achieving the outcome, then find six steps to do something that would take two. I guess I do that when I go on holiday. I’d much rather take the scenic route than to get there as quickly as possible. However, the peace and tranquility, and the beauty that I am able to enjoy when I take that scenic route is what makes my appreciation of the destination that much more enduring.

    So perhaps that is really the point that I’ve been trying to articulate. I guess it ties in with being purposeful in everything that you do. If there is no purpose, then you’re on auto-pilot and you may as well cash in your chips instead of stealing oxygen that could be put to better use by someone else. Of course such a callous view is easily dismissed at the thought of your mundane routine providing others with comfort in the predictability that you bring into their lives. The sceptic in me screams blue murder at the thought of it because I’m loathe to believe that such predictability is truly comforting. It’s limiting, maybe assuring, or possibly even remotely encouraging or aspirational, but certainly not inspiring. Damn, I guess even that point could be dismissed by the fact that sometimes the negative outlooks of others inspire us to be the opposite.

    So I guess we are the vicious cycle, aren’t we? Every annoying habit, every curious quirk, and every inspired moment feeds the cycle that feeds itself, and in turn feeds our curiosity or complacency. That’s all good at a macro level, but hardly encouraging at an individual level because it implies that the stagnation of some is necessary to inspire others. I would hate to realise later in life that my inspiration stemmed from those that achieved too little rather than from those that achieved much. I would therefore rather be distracted by the aspirational sights rather than the depressing ones.

    Alas, it seems that even in contemplating these distractions I have been distracted from the point of this post to begin with. The point I set out to make is simply this. If we pursue life aggressively in the desire to want to live as much of it as possible, we’ll probably find ourselves reducing the effort and energy expensed against the necessary, while our pursuit of efficiency and the elimination of redundancy in everything we do will become the focus of our life which in turn will spawn benefits for those around us in ways we never considered. Unfortunately, there is a negative stigma associated with a restless soul because the complacent and lethargic nature of the masses finds itself at odds with such an existence.

    With that in mind, I choose to be anomalous. I choose to be the anomaly that distracts others enough to make them question what may be wrong with me, which inevitably leads to them contemplating what is truly right with them. (This post still seems to fail at making a meaningful point.)

  • A Humble Ego

    I noticed the disruptive force of popularity on me recently and I wondered if that may not be the root to all evil? My ego seems to be most stoked when I enjoy critical acclaim and recognition from others, but given a minute to reflect on the source of such acclaim, I’m quickly reminded about its fickleness. Not the acclaim, but the source. I’ve often contemplated whether or not maintaining a consciously humble disposition is possible, and this further convinces me that it’s not.

    The moment we’re aware of our humility, it plants seeds of arrogance because the knowledge of such a state being aspired to by many is reason to believe that we’re better than them for having acquired it. So the pursuit of humility remains elusive. I find myself once again debating each point I write and back tracking to remove my thoughts because it fails at the tests of logic. The logic that drove me to want to write this post suggests that if I remind myself of the basis on which people polarise towards the popular, it will deny me the reason to take comfort in their praise.

    We’re all weak. We’re all equally weak. What sets us apart is our ability to disguise those weaknesses as strengths. Where we’re weak in our need for recognition and affirmation, we’re strong in our ability to garner such attention. The avenues we choose to pursue as noble endeavours to garner that attention is what is displayed as a passion that others are drawn towards, all the while believing that we’re inspired, when in fact we’re satisfying our need to be recognised amongst those we admire.

    It seems life is an endless circle of vicious cycles. Even the cycle of life has its own viciousness that forces us to collaborate and collude in artful ways that distracts us from the cycle and convinces us that what we pursue is in fact purpose. I’m starting to wonder if it’s purpose at all that drives us, but instead a need to be distracted from reality? Like they say, a man sees the world too clearly from the mountain. It takes a brave man to embrace the reality that becomes evident in such a moment, while the rest of us paint pretexts and contexts that serve to convince us that we are in fact significant.

    Everything that I witness around me points to the innate desire to be significant. Even the most ascetic amongst us seeks the significance in the eyes of the one they adore or worship, while those that surrender the goal of acquiring such significance are prone to self destruct, sometimes completely. The effort to reach into their soul and convince them that their significance directly inspires our own becomes ever more daunting because if we fail to convince them, we risk stepping on the same slippery slope of self abasement from which we attempted to rescue them. Another vicious cycle.

    I guess the true reality is that the ego is only as arrogant as the observer. The one who witnesses the arrogance in others without seeing their weaknesses that underlie such repugnant behaviour are in fact the ones that are least in touch with their own weaknesses, or their own insecurities. When we believe that we’re better than that, we look condescendingly on those who are arrogant, but the moment we realise the collective weakness we share that gives rise to such outward displays of fear, we find ourselves compelled to view them with empathy instead.

  • Distracted by Life

    Looking at the insecurity that lurks behind the eyes of the arrogant ones that I engage with on a daily basis is all that makes them tolerable, and keeps me sufficiently pacified in not wanting to expose their feeble-mindedness for what it is. The realisation of understanding the fears of another makes it very difficult to judge them harshly, or to treat them cruelly, no matter how well deserved it may be, unless of course my own fears and insecurities rise above theirs at which point being brutal comes naturally.

    But there is a more painful underlying reality that weighs me down and it’s difficult to grasp the true nature of it. I feel compelled to be patient whilst simultaneously feeling aggravated by the lack of action that such patience demands. Being caught between the need for restraint and the need for instant gratification is entirely uncomfortable. Stringing together any meaningful thought patterns becomes a challenge in itself given my nature. One of my greatest fears has always been stagnation of spirit. Seeing death around every turn, and sometimes in every breath, while knowing that I’ve not applied myself nearly as effectively as I know I am capable of. With this in mind, seeing the vacant stares from behind the arrogant facades only riles me up further, driving me to want to grab by the collar every walking dead that pretends to be more than they are while entirely wasting their life by assuming a posture that wins hollow acclaim from strangers that add almost no value in their lives other than the comfort of brief acceptance for the moment that they were beheld by such superficially guided standards.

    A rant, a rant, is all this seems to amount to, although I feel the angst in my chest driving me to want to articulate something that I believe is important but that I’m struggling to impart. Simply stated, I think people are distracted by bullshit. We’re so misguided by tokenism that we fail to realise how much we pursue that which is contrived, rather than the wisdom that should be derived.

    This is barely making sense to me even. Perhaps, after all, it is a reflection of my mind’s craziness relative to the embrace that I enjoy from the people around me. An embrace of common views and values that are rarely celebrated. That embrace of spirit or of being that is set aside in favour of the indulgence of practical benefits. Life is distracted in that way. We’re distracted by the practical reality beyond just what is practically needed, quickly slipping into the daze that drives us to believe that such a practical need is in fact the objective of our existence.

    I seem to be discussing the inevitability of death more often these days, with the constant reminder that it is an inevitable destination which therefore makes no sense to be feared, but should rather be embraced. The time spent fearing it results in a paralysis of thought and action, although some would argue that it in fact spurs such thought and action. The idealist in me drives me to believe that action resulting from fear is insincere, since without the repercussion being known, the action would lose its purpose, and therefore by default negates its value. Maybe not. Perhaps the realisation should be that acting with impunity in the face of such an undeniable reality is worse than acting out of fear, although the sincerity of the former would be far more admirable than that of the latter.

    But such idealisms hold little appeal for people still distracted by the practical reality of life. I naively believe that if we focus on the legacy of a life well lived, without courting the accolades of such a legacy, death will automatically be a welcomed destination. If our choice of spirituality, religion, or values that we subscribe to brings us balance and harmony with those around us as well as the world that is somewhat detached from us, then perhaps in pursuing such a balance without the constant fear of its repercussions on what is to take place beyond life, we may find that we will live a life of meaning and purpose, whilst also fulfilling the entry criteria for a death that heralds comfort and peace.

    It’s therefore ironical that in our pursue for peace, we tend to wreak the most destruction.

  • Inspired by Death

    When faced with the realisation of the finite nature of time, and by extension, life, it seems superfluous to be in search of inspiration to do that which I feel passionate about. Of all the day dreams and fairy tales that dot my imagination from my earliest memories, wanting to change the world was almost always a consistent theme, sometimes on a small scale, and at times in a much bolder way.

    I lack the patience to simply outgrow things because that implies a natural evolution of my being rather than an intelligent effort. Waiting for situations to change simply because with the passage of time it is likely to change is about as inspiring and meaningful as watching paint dry. Worse still, it holds the same sense of fulfillment as the act of counting the grains of sand in the desert. The remembrance of both the inevitability of death as well as the very finite limit it sets on our lives, often without warning, should be enough to spur me into action against every thought that I conceive without the need for any other motivator or source of inspiration. But it doesn’t. At least not as often as it should.

    The main reason I’ve always receded was because I saw no reason to proceed. An obvious statement with not so obvious implications. While the thought of death may spur me into action, it rarely has the same effect on those around me which frustrates me. That frustration is more reflective of my self-criticism of not being able to convey the urgency of life to those around me, and less about my contempt for their waste of life. So my choice to recede is because in the face of an unreceptive audience, any performance no matter how brilliant, is futile. So just as we need receptive hearts to inspire us to want to share a message, the absence thereof causes the words to dissipate into the lethargy around us.

    I sometimes grow impatient and aggressive when I’ve exhausted all reasonable measures to get through to someone that is blatantly destructive or oblivious to how they’re undermining their own potential, but once that final expression of exasperation is spent, the acceptance of it all descends and I move on to focus on more meaningful endeavours. Anything that holds the promise of fulfilment, not necessarily reward, is enough to engage my senses and pique my interest.

    I’ve often been accused of being obsessive with taunts of OCD hurled at me on many occasions, often cloaked as a joke. But my obsession is one that this world could use more of. My obsession is that I wish to leave every situation or every place in a better state than it was before I touched it. The net effect of my life must be more than just an accumulation of comforts and wealth, or a fulfillment of responsibility. It must extend to the upliftment of those around me, including myself.

    For this reason death inspires me. It inspires me because with each skill that I acquire, I feel a compelling need to use it to benefit another before the breath is removed from me and the skill is wasted. It will be wasted if it was neither used to benefit others, nor passed on as a gift to empower another. So before death reaches me, I hope to expend myself in ways that will leave as little wastage as possible for death to claim.

  • When I chose to be educated by the school of life, little did I know that my mentor would turn out to be my tormentor

  • Why Time Travel is Probably Not Possible

    The concept of time travel, in my opinion, is more a desire founded in the weakness of us because of our collective regret over missed opportunities rather than a practical and needed solution to any of mankind’s ills. We struggle to live in  the present, to be conscious, and to be grounded because of the constant distraction of what we have yet to do or achieve, which makes it quite ironical that one of those distractions is our pursuit of the ability to travel back in time so that we can right the wrongs we spawned when wondering about some other time or place.

    The more I contemplate the concept of time travel from a purely logical perspective, the less likely the possibility of achieving it appears to be. There are a number of theories that abound by respected scientists that suggest that it is physically possible, but they remain theories, and hence what prompted me to develop my own theories to disprove this misconception that serves as nothing more than a fairy tale.

    I find it difficult to believe that we’ll ever be able to travel faster than instantaneous. What I mean is, we may be able to break barrier of the speed of light, but in doing so, we will only ever get as close as is humanly possible to moving from one place to another in an instant, or moment, or split second, however you wish to measure it; but we’ll never get there before we’ve left our point of departure.

    The entire concept of the speed of light being the holy grail for time travel is mistaken. We assume that simply because the light reflected off an object has not reached us yet, it means that it exists in a different dimension. It doesn’t. The fact that the light is still en route does not change the fact that the object is still physically in the same location. Stated differently, if I were to accelerate faster than the speed of light, chances are that I will find myself in a place of darkness because the light that I left behind is still catching up with me. Imagine the disappointment on the face of the man that eventually breaks the speed of light only to find himself bumping into objects that he can’t see because the light reflected off them has not reached him yet?

    In fact, even in that scenario there are flaws. That would assume that the objects whose reflected light can no longer be seen are all located in close proximity to the origin of his travels. Think about it this way. If I were to travel faster than the speed of light in a horizontal direction, only light emanating from sources in a similar trajectory (so to speak) would be left behind. However, and light traveling vertically would still reach me because I would be crossing their paths and not traveling away from them. So in order for me to reach that point of darkness, I would need to be traveling away from every light source in every direction simultaneously, or else I’ll always be crashing into other light sources.

    That all sounds really complicated so perhaps here is an easier way to explain my point of view. Traveling faster than the speed of light will only make me outrun the light itself, and will not make me travel through time, since time itself is not even measured by the presence or quantity of light. Time is simply a constructed unit of measure that is independent of our definition of it. We could call it 50 other names and define 100 different units of measure to measure it as opposed to the standard seconds, minutes, hours, days, and so on, but it would not change the very essence of time itself.

    Whether or not the light of an object is visible does not stop the entropy experienced by the object. In other words, I won’t remain forever young if I simply lived in a dark room all my life. So the fact that the light that should otherwise be reflected from my body is not visible, does not make me absent. It simply makes me out of sight but still present. So this entire focus on the speed of light to make time travel possible is simply absurd. We measure changes by the elapsed time of the event. We improve our productivity by more meaningfully using the time we have available. And then we delude ourselves into believing that we’re getting better at time management, when in fact we’re getting better at managing our lethargy and procrastination.

    Time is not what we need to conquer, but rather ourselves, our arrogance, and our pride that suggests that we’re so powerful and infinitely resourceful that we have the wit, the intelligence, and the capability to conquer any physical construct we find in our path. Time is not physical. It is not a liquid, a gas, a solid, or any other variation of matter in between. In fact, it’s not even matter, and doesn’t matter either. It’s the actions we do in the moments that pass that determine how well those moments were spent. When we lose sight of that, we end up trying to find ways to escape the reality of death by believing that we are capable of cheating it, starting yet another cycle of lethargy and procrastination to do that which matters, while falsely assuming that we’re engaged in endeavours that will improve the quality of life of mankind.