Love and vanity

We push away the unsettling thoughts and think that the day won't come. Or we admit it but state that it at least will be... distant. Since we are all wanderers in the finite timescape inherently tied to our existence, chained and led by the arrow of time, we move forward into a future where the only thing certain is our own demise. From afar we hear the dampened rattling of the shackles and chains that bind us to this illusion. Of course we'd rather talk about the other things we can't control - like the weather. Ghastly, isn't it?

The disturbing thoughts about the finality of being often recurs to us when Death calls for someone in our immediate milieu. This, I have personally experienced, can lead some to take the hedonist's path in denying the undeniable. Others, at least provisionally, accept this fact, staring down into the abyss with audacious contempt.
In Michael Shermer's essay "Shadowlands", published in his book Science Friction: Where The Known Meets The Unknown, he delivers a gripping personal account of his mother's final time in life. He as a skeptic was forced to make up his mind about pursuing further, scientifically unproven, treatment, or to make the most of the time remaining. They fought valiantly and persistently, as anyone would do, but came to realisation that there comes a time when letting go is the only reasonable and humane option.

Death is a taboo in our culture. We send away our loved relatives to homes where they can die at a safe distance. I don't think it's about whether we care or not, it's just that the demands of our day-to-day lives make it a burden too heavy to bear. We no longer have the resources to care for our loved ones as we would want to.
I am concerned that we, in distancing ourselves from death, reject a part of our nature, a part of ourselves that is as natural as life itself. In this I fear that the silent shout from inside of us will never be heard until we ourselves lie there mute. But no matter how hard we try to shield ourselves from it, we are surrounded by death, which in turn leads to questions that demand an answer.

Does taking the insight of death into consideration add something meaningful to our lives? Do we gain from it? Because if it doesn't, we have good reasons to just ignore it altogether. For healthy, productive citizens running their lives as usual, this issue is simply superficial and does not seem to contribute to achieving the goals in our daily lives.
Life is fleeting, and as I said earlier, we will have to stare into the face of death on several occasions during our lifetime. The death of a close friend or relative often forces a person to examine their current situation. Their goals and motives are weighed against reality and in some cases that causes life-altering decisions to be made, in others it don't.

This can be pretty immobilising, yet, it is in my opinion a total fallacy to argue that because the states of affairs in our lives are fleeting, it is best to cower before some of the challenges that face us. From the fact that something is limited it does not follow that it's meaningless to dedicate yourself to them. Instead, I would consider the flipside of the rather blunt and sometimes grievous assessment that time is a commodity.
If we enter into a situation fully aware that none of this will last, does that insight alone not add to the preciousness of the entire expedition? I would argue that this is indeed the case.

As a consequence of this, I can't help but to feel privileged when it comes to existing. I owe this outlook partly to my naturalistic Weltanschauung and partly to my skeptical stance towards unsubstantiated claims to truth. Like Richard Dawkins, I do care passionately about what is true, as childish as it may sound. Therefore I see that in embracing the world's most successful epistemological methodology, there is no reason not to call a spade a spade, or nonsense nonsense for that matter.
And relating to this: That's why I'm fascinated by pseudoscience, though tiresome and repetitive as it sometimes is.

Though I feel nothing but sympathy with those who want to believe that "there's got to be something more than this." My reply to that is: "Sure, that would be great, but as far as I can tell, there are no good reasons for believing that."

Seeing how this directly concerns different types of religious beliefs: Will you, in taking Darwin seriously naturally be lead toward atheism, as Dawkins claims? For what my two cents are worth, biology's grand unifying theory has far-reaching implications for our understanding of being itself and I don't find it hard to understand why some find the 'theory' menacing.
But it's the exact opposite! The theory (and fact) of evolution [pronounced the English way: evilution] is, in its simple yet complex way certainly one of the most beautiful models of explanation and understanding that we possess. Simply put, it only adds to the wonder. And to answer the question at the beginning of this paragraph: Not necessarily so, as we shall see.

Theism is something that is common to all of human civilizations. It is my firm opinion that once we focus the evolutionary lens on the phenomenon of religion itself, we will yield a deeper understanding of how these belief systems came to be and how they play an integral part of the lives of so many people, even today in our Age of Science. Just because belief in the supernatural is so 'natural' for us humans, I doubt that the attempts of the "New Atheism" movement (fronted by Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins) will bear much fruit.

Turning to my own beliefs (or lack thereof) I would, if we now have to put labels on people, classify myself an agnostic (in the T. H. Huxley sense.) It's a subtle but important philosophical point. Though I submit, in the more real-world sense I am undoubtedly an atheist.
The point is, there are just some things that are unknowable. Surely, we can speak in terms of probabilities, but the whole point of being skeptical and at the same time having an open mind is that we must appreciate where our knowledge begins and where it ends. It is through this loophole that hope springs eternal. This is why I have nothing against people turning to faith. As for myself, that leap doesn't appeal to me.