The day before yesterday, I experienced something that shook me to the core. It was late at night, and I had indulged in some coffee a little too late in the evening, I admit. As the clock struck midnight, I found myself gripped by a sudden and intense anxiety attack. It was as though a wave of sheer panic washed over me, leaving me gasping for air and confronting the fragility of existence. This wasn’t the first time I’ve felt like this, but it was no less terrifying.
In the midst of this, two profound realizations emerged. The first was an undeniable acknowledgement of the primal instinct of animals to procreate a revelation so raw and visceral that it eclipsed everything else at that moment. The second, which I attribute more to a fleeting notion than a deeply held belief, was what some might call “realizing God.” For now, let’s set aside the latter and focus on the former because it resonated with me in a way that felt deeply authentic.
Over the years, my stance on having children has oscillated between extremes. There have been times when the thought of bringing new life into this world seemed like a distant, even absurd, idea. The current state of the world, its chaos, and its suffering made the prospect feel both unaffordable and illogical. Why subject an innocent being to all this nonsense? This line of reasoning had firmly planted me in the “no kids” camp for quite some time.
But then came that anxiety attack. Out of nowhere, an intense, almost primal drive surfaced. It wasn’t born of logic or careful consideration; it was instinctual, a deep-seated urge that seemed to rise from the very core of my being. At that moment, I realized that, at our most fundamental level, we are organisms striving relentlessly for survival and self-preservation. And part of that preservation lies in procreation, in keeping the gene pool alive, and in ensuring continuity. It felt as though some ancient mechanism within me had been activated, one that I had never fully understood until then.
This experience gave me pause. While I’m not ready to abandon my previous thoughts about the challenges and responsibilities of parenthood, I also can’t completely reject the idea anymore. That instinct raw and unfiltered was undeniable. It wasn’t something I could reason away or dismiss. It was as if I had touched upon a truth that transcended my usual considerations, something deeply intertwined with the essence of life itself.
For the past few months, I’ve been grappling with the concept of death. It’s not an easy subject to confront; in fact, it’s downright unsettling. The idea of non-existence, of simply ceasing to be, can feel like staring into a void. Yet, paradoxically, these meditations on mortality have brought about profound insights. They’ve instilled in me a newfound appreciation for Life with a capital L. Facing the inevitability of death has a way of amplifying gratitude for the here and now, for the sheer privilege of being alive.
This duality the fear of non-existence and the reverence for existence has been a recurring theme in my reflections. And perhaps it’s this very tension that brought forth the instinct to procreate during that anxiety attack. It was as though coming close to the edge of mortality awakened a deeper understanding of life’s purpose. Not in a grand, universal sense, but in the simple, undeniable drive to continue, to create, to preserve.
I’m not sure where this leaves me. The idea of having children is no longer a definitive “no,” but neither is it an emphatic “yes.” It’s something I’ll continue to wrestle with, perhaps for a long time. But what I do know is that this experience has shifted something within me. It’s reminded me that, at our core, we are creatures of life, driven by instincts that often defy logic yet resonate with profound truth.
These moments of anxiety, of confronting mortality, are terrifying. But they also have the power to illuminate. They strip away the superficial and leave us face-to-face with the essence of existence. And in that raw, unfiltered space, we can find clarity about ourselves, about life, and about the instincts that drive us forward.