We are human beings of the briefest moment.
We do not know the appointed time of our departure.
—Siri Guru Granth - Ang 660
I was watching this Netflix series called Godless last night, which shows a glimpse into the Old Western era. There’s something appealing about that time in history, when the world was wild and lawless. Life could be just a man and his horse, exploring unexplored countryside, drinking water from streams and living off the land. It was a simpler existence, when your concerns were mostly about survival, when disputes were settled by gunfire, when death was on the forefront of the mind at all times.
That mindset seems lost today, drowned out by login passwords and social media feeds.
How many hours have we spent at the DMV while our ancestors were riding horseback through mountains?
How much time is spent swiping through apps instead of navigating land by stars?
How many days are spent saving for retirement while our brethren roamed wastelands to stake out the land they’d die on?
What a different life that must have been—more intense, more alive. Sometimes I wonder if I was born in the wrong era.
Of course, I could probably figure out how to live somewhat like that, even today. Move out west to some off-grid ranch and learn to mosey around on horseback and whatnot.
Could I hack it? Would I miss the WiFi? Or would I be so present and preoccupied that it wouldn’t even cross my mind, aware that death may lurk around any corner in the wild? (At least a degree closer to what our predecessors felt, anyway.)
As Frank Griffin from Godless said, “The same God that made you and me also made the rattlesnake.” Something about that sounds like a more fitting way to go, as opposed to getting hit by a city bus or rotting away in some hospital bed. Maybe someday they’ll find my remains plucked apart by desert wildlife, but for now, my reality remains in the age of the internet, with the concept of death buried somewhere beneath potential material buys and search engine optimization.