Shamim 1

Shamim, Jason

Mr. Kapp

English 10A

10 October 2019

Fear, the Universal Connector

Fears are something I like to think everyone has. It connects us, keeps us human. Ever

since we as a species have existed, fears were meant to keep us alive, keep us alert. Common,

almost universal fears like the dark, heights, and spiders can all be traced to an instinct like

feeling to maintain survival. Most people realistically don’t have to worry about a clown killing

them during their 9-5 job, or that one of the 30 out of the 43,000 spider species capable of killing

a human will somehow happen to bite you; these are called irrational fears. As of today, we

really need not worry about primal fears either, since our society has very well much adapted

since then. But when the question comes to mind, “What is your greatest fear?”, one can’t help

but stop and think about the philosophy and science behind what specific and distinct scenario or

thing makes ​them​ the most uncomfortable.

Ever since I was little, especially when I was little, I’ve had something I was afraid of at

one point or another. Whether that be my mom, or the dark, or even the occasional spider

crawling up my wall whilst I played video games. However, no matter what mental gymnastics I

was able to achieve to convince myself these fears were well justified when I was little, I can't

help but to see them as irrational years later. And while I may have fears that I recognize as

irrational, the insight of a real fear, something that could very well happen begs the question,

“What is your greatest fear?” again, this time with an altered meaning.
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As I’ve matured, like most people, I took into reflection and thought about many different

subjects that I had previously never thought of or rather ignored. One that I found interesting yet

infinitely scary was the thought of existentialism. The feeling that nothing I did would matter,

how insignificant I really was, and how much of a choice I really have over the things I'm doing.

I remember this coming into my mind when I was thinking about my Grandma who I hold dearly

and revere. I was reflecting on her life as an almost 90 year old immigrant from the Philippines

with 9 children when the thought that I never really knew about my Grandma’s parents for the 15

years I’ve known her. This just seemed like a fact of life; with me not knowing family from my

Dad’s side and my Grandpa passing before I was born, the sudden realization that my knowledge

of my family stops beyond three generations generated a slight feeling of melancholy and unease

I wasn’t used to.

With this in mind, I found my Grandma and asked her, “Nanay, what do you remember

your parents being like?”

She tried her best to recollect through the fog of the discarded memories of her youth;

although the best she could muster was, “Not much, my dad was stern at times but him and my

mom loved us.”

And like that, she didn’t have a word to say about these people who shaped her life, who

took care of her as a vulnerable child. The concept that the memory of an entire person,

someone's whole life could be summed up into a few trivial sentences didn’t sit well with me.

Even someone who holds you in the highest regard like a friend, family member, or lover most

likely will not remember you as vividly as we’d like to believe once your gone; not to mention,

that once they pass, all of their collective memories that they have not fully shared will pass too.
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This often led me to think about how the idea that life is meaningless, frightens me less

than the concept that I will be forgotten or alternatively, the memory of me will be forgotten. I

think this stems from the inevitability of it all, and how the two ideas contradict each other;

because after all, if no one is going to remember you, how can you make the most out of life if

your actions result in nothing? I realize that within four generations of family (or a measly 400

years at most) I will be completely forgotten, yet I have trouble coming to terms with that. Being

forgotten personally seems so much worse than thinking that life is pointless, because you can

still go on living if you choose to. However, if you live your whole life knowing with every

action, that no one will know your name in a very Ozymandias-like way, there's no point in

anything.

At the time when this thought weighed the heaviest on my weary head, I sought refuge in

my uncle, who I always regarded as an authority figure of stability in my life. Seeing as he was

the second closest thing I would consider a father figure, along with his knowledge on my

Mother’s side of the family, I decided to confide my thoughts with him. As he was working

outside on his machines during a typical after school afternoon, I approached him and casually

prompted the question.

“Don’t you find it strange how Nanay (My Grandma) never told us about her parents at

all growing up? It’s like we don’t know our great grandparents and she most likely didn't know

hers” I asked, with the ulterior motive of seeking for the answer to my question behind me.

“Why’s that weird?” my uncle asked nonchalantly.

“Well if we’re not gonna be remembered when we die, what’s the point?” I asked in a

pensive tone.
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He glanced sideways at me, obviously tip toeing around a clearly slippery subject and

replied optimistically, “Well if you do enough good, the most you can hope for is a handful of

good people who will carry on your memory long after you die”.

I thought about it for a second and solemnly mumbled, “Yeah, I guess that's true.”

However, inside of me, the inner turmoil that even the person in my life who is supposed

to “have the answer to everything” as I grew up believing, couldn’t even come up with an answer

they fully had faith in sparked a somber feeling of fulfillment in my question. The realization

that we as humans share this one universal truth comforted me in a way I could not explain. As if

the questions plaguing my head had suddenly been soothed as soon as I understood it was ok to

not know the answers. Sometimes, you have to stop fighting against the wave and take the path

of least resistance. No one is alive for a specific reason, no one will be remembered long after

their physical time on Earth in the relevance of the universe, so it’s best to just not worry and

enjoy our time here.

Fears are endlessly interesting. I think all should embrace our own, think about why they

bother us, and try our best to come to terms with it. I may be forgotten within 3 lifetimes, and my

actions may not mean anything, but I still believe that everyone is entitled to the ephemeral

comfort that being alive brings. Knowing that as of right now, I have friends and family who

love and care for me, who will remember me after I die, despite it only being for a short time in

the grand scheme of things. I, and everyone around me have our time on this Earth, and I think

it’s ok if after it finishes, it finishes for certain. These tacit rules of the universe apply to

everyone and cannot be cheated, despite who you are; everything in the end will transpire to

every single one of us, in the ultimate paradigm of connection and constants.