4th/Exist Philosophy has long been an interest of mine. Questioning the universe, our own selves, the possibility of something beyond our realm of existence; I find it all at the same time overpoweringly grand but beautifully comforting. We are but the merest pinpoint dot of consciousness in the unconquerable vastness of the cosmos, adrift in the dark without so much as a clue from whatever put is there. Was it God? Was it chance? Perhaps we were designed uncountable billions of years ago by an ancient race of beings beyond our very comprehension, shelved long ago, nothing but a failed experiment. Maybe we were once the mightiest species in the galaxy, forced downwards into devolution by forces that felt we has grown too powerful for our own good. The theories are very nearly endless. The philosopher Rene Descartes theorised that it may be impossible for us to prove, using physical evidence, that the world around us exists as we sense it. Descartes is perhaps best known for his famous #quote, "I think, therefore I am". We can arrive at the conclusion that we exist simply because we cannot imagine ourselves not existing, but that doesn't mean that we have to exist as we believe ourselves to. We choose to trust in our sense because it is easier than the alternative, which would be to doubt anything and everything we see, hear, touch, taste, smell. Wherever you are right now, lie down, flat on the floor. Look up. Register what is above you; a sky, a ceiling; picture its details in your mind. Close your eyes, and imagine what is above you is still there, existing, as perceivable by you as it is by anyone else. Now open your eyes. Is it still there? It should be. If it isn't, I'm afraid you might be insane. If it is, ask yourself this question: How can you be sure that it was still there when your eyes were shut? How do you know, regardless of anybody else or any other sense at your disposal, that it was still visible to you while your eyelids covered your eyes You don't. So even if we trust our senses to be true, we can never be certain of the very existence of that which we cannot sense. And since we can't sense everything, how can we be sure of this world's true existence? Another experiment for you: Imagine the face of your closest friend. If they are with you, all the better. Imagine the place you feel the most comfortable. If you are there, all the better. Now try to imagine that those things don't exist. Try to imagine that you don't exist, picture nothing but oblivion in your mind, no physical reality or mental thought, no ideas or emotions. It's impossible: we can't imagine nothing, because we ourselves are something. I find that oddly soothing, that there is no possibility of nothingness within our minds. So we can lie to ourselves, tell ourselves that we are worthless within the colossal unfathomability of the universe, or we can choose to believe. Believe that we are each fortunate, fortunate that we each have the ability to imagine something other than nothing. I don't seek a Creator: I know that we are all creators, all capable of the simple feat of imagination. It is this that brings us innovation, ingenuity, emotion. Without this, we could not love. I love, and I have loved, therefore I am. Live. Love. Because even if we are the most infinitesimal smidgeon of reality upon the petri dish of existence, we still matter.
