So what’s the point? The responses I received to my fearing and dreading death seem to boil down to
Everybody does it.
There’s no way to avoid it.
There’s no pain or suffering or any sensation after death.
I guess the problem is that I can’t accept the universe without me in it. While it is making more and more sense, it is still difficult to wrap my mind around the fact that all of us disappear into nothingness and after a relatively short period of time has passed, it will be like we never existed.
So dare I ask the question:
What’s the point of all this?
I get that this world has so much to offer, so much beauty and there are endless opportunities for exploration and enjoyment. But what about those born into poverty, famine, disease or oppression to name a few? Their lives are plagued with misery and hardship. There is no joy for them. I guess your advice would be to make the best of it. This seems pathetically sad to me.
Why does there have to be a point to it? As Camus wisely stated (at least, I think it wise): "The meaning of life is whatever I am doing at the moment that keeps me from killing myself."
We are only here a short time, whatever we experience in life is who we become by how we meet those experiences. Enjoy your life while you have it, what else is there? There is so much beauty in the world if you let yourself see it. There is so much to learn to experience; places to go, other societies to learn from and even perhaps be a part of. The possibilities are endless, as Stephen Hawking would have said.
The point is whatever you make it to be. We create our own meaning and purpose. It doesn't exist out there somewhere for us to find. And why is the universe without you in it after you're dead any different than the universe without you before you were born? It's the same, and we won't be aware of it anyway. The way you will survive will be in whatever you have done, and in the memories of those who live on after you are gone.