Songs of Finitude

Self-awareness, that most distinctive of human traits, ordains that we live our lives in the certain knowledge that we will die.  Now, if we were indifferent to life, then contemplating its cessation would cause no particular angst. We humans, however, are anything but indifferent to life.  We want passionately to go on living; with every fiber of our being we ache for more and still more life, frequently even when in the grip of great pain. But consciousness bludgeons our desires and mocks our dreams and most fervent yearnings.

Like oil and water, divinity and dust do not mix, do not join to make something new, but maintain their separate and incompatible qualities. And so, we are creatures of turmoil, of inner struggle, creatures tormented by the unanswerable “why” of our existence, who are prone to anxiety, panic, melancholy, ennui, fear, hopelessness, despair - all the product of knowing that our deepest desires will go unfulfilled.

Finitude is that clash between our wanting, and the knowledge of our powerlessness to get what we want most. These writings are a part of my personal response to finitude.  Collectively, they constitute the closest thing to a credo that I am ever likely to evolve.