Fear of death

Unable to comprehend either the vastness or the minuteness of this universe, the human being remains suspended somewhere in the space between. We are born of the nothingness incomprehensible to each of us individuals and find death in the midst of the limitlessness. I have absolutely no idea why I am living here and now. I don’t know why the world is the way it is. I have been thrust into existence and am coldly surrounded by the limitless space.

When humans cannot fully grasp the foundations of existence, we become encumbered by the feeling known as “fear.”

I was a young boy when I acquired that fear of death.

Pensees grabbed a hold of that young boy’s heart firmly and guided him alongthe road of philosophy. I was haunted by the almost unbearable discovery, “my own death.” I averted my eyes from it, only to find myself confronted with it again over and over. This relentless fear preoccupied my early development. I believe it was when I resolved that I would never be able to flee the idea of my own death that I truly became a philosopher. The ultimate basis for why I continue to pursue my current academic endeavors lies here.


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The Structure of the Inner Life of a Philosopher (1998)
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