Existential Angst and Thanatophobia [Post # 106]

Well, those are two terms that probably need a little explaining. Perhaps a better title of this essay would be “the mystery of life and the mystery / fear or anxiety of death.” Ahhh, the biggies of life. Yeah, when we get older and realize, ahhh, our future is rather limited, and we are honest with ourselves, we look at things differently than we may have previously. My perspective is a bit different and a bit more intense at this stage of life than it was previously. In other words, the end is near and I don’t like what I’m seeing down the road (or right in front of me, perhaps).

So much of life is lived in denial, it seems. We are so busy living, struggling with life, achieving something, acquiring “stuff,” etc., that we don’t really think about the deep, meaningful aspects of our short time on this earth plane. Most people, anyway.

I’ve always been a deep thinker, a philosopher, perhaps a theologian of sorts. A believer, a non-believer, an agnostic, an atheist, a skeptic. Life is a real mystery and I understand and see that. And, yes, it drives me nuts if I think about it for very long. I’m currently studying science, history (my major in college), philosophy, theology and psychology in depth. And, yes, I’m enjoying the study. But the more I study, the more I learn, the more I realize there are no answers to the mystery of it all. There are facts, there are beliefs, there are experiences. There are systems or organizations claiming to have answers (usually called religions or belief systems or philosophies). Or cults or other groups. Lots of explanations, lots of “answers,” but “The answer”… well… some day we may know more of the answer, or maybe not.

That’s the existential angst. What’s it all about? And the thanatophobia. The anxiety or fear of death and the death process. Yeah, I see that in conjunction with the angst. Another great mystery. And we can feel all nice and secure in our beliefs and spiritual insights and enlightenment, but, really, we have to confront it and we know not when. And that drives me nuts. It’s not just theory, imaginings. It’s gonna be real. Time’s up.

I just had a friend die unexpectedly after being at our house having a good time. He went home and had a heart attack that night. And so it is with so many of us. One day here having a great time, and then, poof, gone.

Maybe I’ve been a morbid one most of my life. My first experience with death was when my cousin came to Los Angeles for a heart operation about age five or six, the same age I was. We were here playing one day, having a great time. Then, the next day he had his surgery, and he died. Poof. I didn’t know for a while what happened. I just knew something was wrong as his mother and my mother just walked about crying all day.

My first experience with death. Playing with my cousin the day before his death undergoing heart surgery.

In college I spent a summer living in a mortuary being a caretaker of the establishment and I got a free apartment for my work there. I was involved in many aspects of the business, assisting the morticians in various tasks. Very creepy at times but of course I was fascinated with it all.

Also, in my college years I would enjoy walking up the hill from my dorm and walking through the cemetery that was there. Felt a strange sense of peace and angst of sorts. Got me thinking a lot about life.

In pervious blogs I mentioned I had two strange experiences in my life. One at around age six when I was going under the anesthesia for my tonsillectomy. I went to a strange dark void and had an experience that I can only explain as an “other worldly” experience (a contact with God?). That experience is as vivid as if it happened yesterday.

The other weird experience was a “dress rehearsal” of sorts of my own death. It was so real. It was an experience I really can’t put into words. I experienced dying. Really experienced the whole process. I cannot shake that from my mind, just like my going under anesthesia as a child. And many years later I had a dream like no other dream l ever had. I was in a space capsule all alone out in deep space. It was an eerie feeling. All alone, in the dark void, at the center of being. With “God” again? A feeling I can’t put into words, again.

So, those are my two anxieties. Guess I just have to live with them. The purpose of life. What it’s all about? We have to find that out for ourselves. We have to make our own purpose. And the big event coming our way, death; well, it can’t be avoided. Some people may be comfortable with the event that is ahead of us and that may come at any moment. Currently, I am not. No matter how “enlightened” I may be, I ain’t there yet. Things may change. As I see it, we must live in the mystery. The mystery of the purpose of life. The horror of experiencing death. And being happy till the end. Wow, that’s a lot to ponder.

Maybe others aren’t bothered like I am over these matters. Perhaps denial of death and not understanding the meaning of life is how most people live. It doesn’t work for me. That’s what I know. Being one with it all, being enlightened, having an inner, spiritual life is great, but, still, we know what’s coming. Not when or the how or what the experience will be like. I think my “dress rehearsal“ experience of dying while on drugs is probably pretty accurate of what it will be like, along with my other two experiences of the deep black, eerie, lonely “void.” That’s my feeling at the present time. Guess I won’t be able to come back to tell you or anyone.

I’m fascinated by the NDE (“near death experiences”) stories I’ve read about. I’m open to those stories and how they have affected people. But those are stories of the “transitional” state and the people come back. Don’t know of any that have come back after six months or so. Of course, there are the “past lives” stories, which are also fascinating.

Well, as of now, at this point in my life, all I can do is acknowledge my existential angst and my thanatophobia. I stand in awe (and trembling) of the great mystery. God help me cope with it all.

Wally