I struggle with the idea of permanence — the idea that something could be forever. There are three distinct ideas that occupy me.
1. Desire: The desire for permanence, juxtaposed with the possibility that it does not exist, yields no comfort.
2. Death: Evidence that we do not exist in this state permanently reveals no hints about what that means.
3. Faith: Virtually all world views offer some idea of permanence, whether it exist within our souls or our universe. What’s interesting, though, is that permanence is not about existing eternally. Rather it’s about existing ultimately. By that, I mean that it exists even if our universe ceases to exist — even if time crumples into a hole of gravity. It exists without prerequisites.
Permanence scares me almost as much as it comforts me. It implies that there exists a homeostasis, either in the form of a void or a grand orchestra.