Would you want to live long enough to see your 128 year-old face in the mirror — half-blind and wholly inert — staring back at you?
We live disposable lives and our brains are easily fooled by fantasy to act out horrific realities — but I heard on the radio a bit ago that, as we age beyond 40, the “anxious cells” in our brains begin to die off.
The reason for that haunting, human, evolution is to help prepare the body and mind against the terror of dying.
As our anxious brain cells disappear, we are no longer tense when it comes to accepting, and then dealing with, our ordinary mortality.
Most of us are forced into living, but none of us escapes alive.
The loss of the anxious brain also helps us perceive things as they truly are, and not as we whitewash them to be: We expect less perfection, we understand chaos is part of the whole, and our minds are — for the first time ever — finally left open and wondering about the terms of surviving and valuing the true wages of stanching a living death.
I wonder if there will ever be gene therapy to reverse the loss of the “anxious brain cells” so that we may once again have a wiser, but wanton, path for wishing to want to live longer — instead of dully accepting the flaws of life as inevitable and excusable.