Looking at the self of no importance

I took this photo a few minutes ago. I think I have to take more and, I have to practice more. I felt stupid. Selfies are stupid. But then, no one else is going to take a picture of me so if someone one day ever wants to for some strange reason know what I looked like, there is very slim pickings out there and if they want a good photo of me, even less.

It is a funny world we have been thrust into as in the history of humanity, the vast majority of us go unphotographed and lived lives unseen, unrecorded and potentially albeit for a few strands of DNA, there is no testament to our existence at all. Now, we all think about legacy, the influence we have and what of ourselves we are going to leave behind. As if it matters in the grand scheme of things, as if we matter.

Supposedly over 100 billion people are estimated to have been born through time and while each and every one of them has influenced the future from their point on, very few of them will ever be remembered long-term and none of them will be remembered forever. Eventually, all that is known will become dust and if there is something out there that can still know, we will be far from its thoughts.

i find this line of thinking freeing while others find fear in it, as if to go unremembered is somehow to not have mattered, not have counted and perhaps, to have never existed. For me, to know that all will be forgotten eventually means that nothing I ever do will ever have such importance that to fail is cataclysmic. Yes, it can take my life or the life of others and it can definitely take the flimsiness of reputation and the illusion of ego but, it will never be the end.

There is no end as I see it and it doesn't matter what realm of belief one holds because the default option of the universe is that the universe is unlimited and no matter how much information we collect, we will never be able to know if there isn't more out there beyond the power of our ability to see. As far as we know, we are just one of a billion big bangs, the byproduct of atoms splitting in a chain reaction of immense nuclear proportions. If that was the case, would you still find life miraculous, find yourself special?

I would because, what are the chances of life existing in the volatility of an atomic explosion? While we can't imagine the event, it is an issue of size alone. While our perspective of size is relative to ourselves, we do not know if life fractals all the way down or, all the way up infinitely. Life tends to repeat patterns so is it so far-fetched that existence or reality is like Russian nesting dolls, each instance similar, smaller and held within the one up in size.

The trouble is that we will never be able to become aware of one up or, one down so there can never be evidence of confirmation. This means that we can keep putting ourselves at the center of the universe and believe that our existence is of primary importance in the grand scale of things, even though we are so limited in view that the grand scheme is well outside of our sphere of possible awareness that to consider it is idiocy.

Well, this idiot should sleep rather than keep rambling as there is another early morning and long day ahead and, it is only a Sunday. Too many "important" things to do, not enough time to get them done, nor do anything that may actually mean something. Whatever that may be.

Goodnight.
_{Sorry about the selfie}

Taraz
[ a Steem original ]