Holding On For Dear Life
Life, as we know it, is purposeful activity. It is productive, enriching and fulfilling on some deep down level. We gain experiences with which we share among others of like mind. We find that without Life to fulfill us, existence becomes meaningless and serves no other use than that of being a constant reminder of some vague notion of there being some great loss in which nothing can or will fullfill that bottomless void.
Is this really Life as we know it? Do we grasp and clutch to our hearts content in the hopes that the overpowering sense of emptiness will go of it's own accord as a result?
If we were to 'let go' what great calamity would arrive soon after upon our doorstep? Is becoming a servant of the mind a requirement for taking bodily form? Why is it that we hold so tight to our beliefs and to the 'rightness' of whatever it is our minds will create for it's own edification?
So many questions, and unfortunately, the answer to it all requires no answer at all.