Everybody has their own anxieties. I suppose being anxious is an essential part of our existential experiences.
For me, these days and at this stage in life, it’s about age. No, I am not afraid of being or getting old. It’s a fact of life. It’s the meanings of the time that has passed that often gets me thinking and wondering: has it been worthwhile, has it been well-spent, has it been meaningful? Have I achieved anything that’s worth remembering? Have I been useful to others and not caused harms in others? Have I been just in my dealings with others and what values have I had in the eyes of others’ and God’s?
They’re certainly not easy questions to answer. But such is the nature of existential questions. It takes a lifetime to answer them and the process is ongoing and will not cease till the last breath is exhaled.
Meanings are what our existence is all about. It’s not about our physique, emotions, thoughts, or actions, for they are transient and subject to the dynamics of space and time. They are fluid and keep changing as we progress through life. But meanings are a constant reference towards which all our motions are directed. It is the gaps between our existential manifestations and the meanings they’re supposed to have and generate that create anxieties.
My life is limited. My time is limited. My existence in this world has limits. It will soon expire. Unless they they’re meaningful, nothing will be left of me. It’s the race between the remaining time and the yet unattained meanings that keeps me anxious. I hope I will still have enough time and strength to make my life meaningful and leave behind a legacy worth remembering.