Human Me.

I have thought much of our fumbling attempts to come to terms with idea of mortality. Heaven, paradise, another life, children, work...GOODNESS- so many drugs to counter that terrible disease. And yet we live as if our existence is endless, as it matters, as if the "I" is of infinite significance.

We, stupid human beings, are filled with pride in this "I", in it's uniqueness. It is true we are unique, we are, more than any other organism, differentiated and particular.

But is it not exactly the same "US" that ceases to exist with a greater finality than any other creature in this universe.

It seems to me that we humans are fated to be stranger to one another. BUT.. Our identities do not contain just us. By ourselves we mean NOTHING. An identity becomes active, positive and meaningful only in relation to others. The whole potential of who we are and what we are is realised only through our relationship with others.