and where we go when we die, and what life is. Basically all the usual suspects for deep midnight conversation. It was during this time, and during my attempt at verbalizing my ideas on the subject1, that I realized I had a model that worked very very well for me. I don't really have existential dread, nor do I fear dying2. I don't have the words yet to describe it in detail but I did write a poem about it that I recited at an open mic in San Francisco recently. It captures much of what I would try to say otherwise.
I speak now of a tapestry unseen
Woven quite at random; Or so it would seem
With humble beginnings in the annals of time
It's image mysterious, obtuse, and sublime
And each thread is woven guiding themselves
Ever on West to East do they delve
Some threads are thick and vibrant and long
And some are weak and brittle,
And shine but little
Some start small and end big and tall
Some start high, take hubris and fall
Some colors are organized, patterned black or white
Others are mixed, intermingled for the eyes delight
And some threads are rich with colour suffused
Others are old, faded, abused
Some threads are wound, and go for a while
Here they are bound, in friendly style
Some they flock like birds, at every bend
Some others they part, their fellowships end
And Where two threads meet,
their frayed ends greet
And make new colours
upon one another
And these threads should go
together to the end
Forming a band
A marvellous blend
And so this tapestry it grows
it grows and it shrinks
And some threads are wise
And others don't think
Causing such mighty tears
The tapestry must bear
And many threads cut short or lost
But where one thread ends
another begins
So the cycle continues
Again and Again
But does one thread know the image it makes
other threads feel the space that it takes
And all these threads, they cross and they mingle
And there are no threads that exist which are single
Even the shortest of Strands
In the Tapestry has a hand
And even the oldest and earliest of strings
Still go on
hidden, unseen
And I do not fear the day that I die
For a thread on a tapestry, simply am I