Even with eternal damnation, a doomed person can actively enjoy the comfort of knowing that there is a big gathering in the sky where everyone’ll be around. Or if not that, they can rely on some system of punishment and reward in order to do a reconciliation of their records before they’re gone, thus avoiding damnation, among many other things which an atheist is really left to handle without any aid or inspiration; there’s no wishful thinking, just a cold analysis of the facts, and the facts only indicate total darkness. And it’s not just one’s own mortality that troubles an atheist as much as it is the mortality of close people, because then you know you’re never ever going to see them again, and that your entire perception and experience with them in life is restricted to the maybe five thousand times you’ve met them in the world.
I’m an atheist too, and although I don’t have your track record involving death, I’m 57 and can now safely die in a plethora of ways.
But when I get really fearful of my mortality, I ask: where was I before I was born. for all those billions of years since the big bang? I am literally made of stars – every atom in my body once lived in a star.
So, am I afraid of where I was before I was born? Of course not. I just. . . wasn’t. And that is precisely the place I will be going back to – all of us will be going back to – when I die.
I think the fear should be reframed: I fear the process of dying, since I will be able to think about it (maybe not!)
The all-too-human pain or suffering: that is what I fear, not where I am going to be after I die.
As an atheist, I have absolutely no fear of death. It’s simply nonexistence, literally nothing to be afraid of. But, as others have said, the manner of dying may evoke fear.
As a gay man living in NYC in the '80s, I was all too familiar with death from AIDS. I lost literally hundreds of friends, virtually everyone I had known. The sense of loss still moves me profoundly to this day. But the prospect of my own death leaves me rather indifferent. I won’t be around to grieve.
Life after death just seems like metaphysical nonsense to me. Identity is a useful concept but starts to get really strained when looked at closely in regards to change and the passage of time. It completely falls apart with regards to life after death and reincarnation. I do not see how the person living in some world after this one can sensibly relate to the person I am now. I just can’t be bothered to be worried about it.
It can be devastating to lose a loved one, but there are many people that have been very important to me at some point in my life that I quite likely will never see again although they are still alive. This is sad in a way, but does not diminish what was a good thing when it happened. I would certainly be sad when hearing of the passing of such a person, but the reality is that actual shared experiences are what is real and important; not things that never happened. If you value someone spend time with them now, and shed tears when you say good bye.
I do not see personal existence as much different. There are experiences you have had, and what you choose to do right now. There is much more universe than you can ever know or understand. I admire the great dilettantes that live life to the fullest, but honestly much of the time I (and I expect in reality them also) am just getting work done, putting out fires and trying to get enough rest. Sometimes life is just damn hard. I appreciate the wonderful things and people I have had the opportunity and capacity to experience. I strive to be aware and functional enough to take what I can out of this life. I also appreciate a good sleep.
I have been buried in an avalanche unable to breath or move. I have fallen off a 60 ft cliff. I have narrowly avoided fatal collisions on the highway. there has been plenty of opportunity to contemplate the fragility of my existence. Very useful.
Some day I will sleep dreamlessly forever. A good day is wonderful and sleep afterwords is something I have never regretted.
But . . . I’m afraid of nonexistence. Seriously. It’s so . . . permanent. A trillion years from now, I’ll be just as nonexistent as the day I die.
Yes, I was nonexistent before I was born, and I have no memory of it being bad . . . but that wasn’t permanent. It ended when I emerged into consciousness. That will never happen again. I’ll just fade to black, and the universe will end, and then it will still be black . . .
I was going to make a joke post but this seems serious so I’ll refrain. Everybody’s afraid of death whether they admit it or not. One of the signs even religious people aren’t as certain as they seem is their fear of death: why fear heaven?
As I get older, though, my fear’s decreasing. Somehow my subconscious expectation of death was was the experience of nothingness: no seeing, no hearing, no smelling. But that’s ridiculous. I won’t be here, so I won’t experience nothing. It was just hard to wrap my head around that concept. Emotionally,I mean, not intellectually. Also, I’m in pain all the time, now, so compared to that, nothing doesn’t seem so bad.
I’m twice your age. I’ve never feared death, but I’m more comfortable with it now. I don’t even resent the right kind of death. My father died at 95, healthy right up to that day, quickly and without pain. I want to go like him. At a certain point you get closer and closer to doing what you wanted to do, and at a certain point I’ve seen people be ready for death. At 30 death is a tragedy, at 100 it might be a blessing.
As for me, I want to stick around until I catch up on my reading. And I have a lot of reading to catch up on.
I admit the cliff was never measured. Maybe it was only 50 ft but it was fucking huge. I skied off it in Rogers Pass thinking it was a much smaller, manageable cliff. It was not perfectly vertical or overhung, so I bounced off several protrusions on the way down. There was several meters of snow base and much unsettled powder. I was lucky not to hit any rocks or trees and only deep powder, and created an impressive crater on landing splayed on my back. We were there to ski off cliffs, and I though I would impress my friends with one they hadn’t figured out the approach to, but I was very far out of my reckoning. It was very foolish and stupid but it was also a really amazing experience.
The avalanche was in a gully (yes, where you are never supposed to be in avalanche country) It didn’t run very far so I did not get tumbled around terribly, but was none the less buried with only a few fingers poking above the snow. My companion was close by spotting me from a safe location and dug me out enough to breath within a couple minutes. A couple minutes of not being able to breath or move is plenty of time to think about life and death.
I am sure anyone who has been driving for a couple decades has seen some pretty close calls on the highway. My point was that we all get plenty of potentially fatal experiences over the years, and will have contemplated our mortality. I suspect you are pretty hard to kill too. The avalanche and cliff were pretty awesome experiences so please excuse my enthusiasm to use them as examples.
Wow, your dad had it lucky. My dad is 84 now, but in very poor health, not so much physical as mental. Had a stroke at 61, and now in the latter stages of Alzheimer’s. I’m going to do everything in my power to keep him here at home, although he’s certainly a handful at times. :)
You know, that’s the way I look at me flying experimental planes. At 20 or 30, it would have been quite a tragedy. Now, at 56, I don’t see it so much as that anymore. I’ve been very fortunate with my life thus far, not ready to check out just yet, but still though, if something was to happen now, not so much a tragedy compared at age 20 or so.
Still though, I’m very careful with my flying and actually quite conservative up there. Mom’s gone now, and I think of my dad and what would happen to him, and also know, I’ve got two great brothers that also want to see to it my dad never sees the inside of a nursing home either if something was to happen to me.
