What does it mean to die young?
Many months ago, I was visiting the famous New York City to attend an event of curious young persons who ask big questions. On the final day of the event, we gathered in Rockefeller Park just by World Trade Center One. Beyond the fact that the date was September 10th, there was something special in the air.
Gathered in a circle, we formally introduced ourselves, shared our family heritage and, if we wanted, spoke about our greatest fear. My brain racked through its memories and feelings with hesitation despite my full well knowing what my greatest fear was from the moment of the prompt.
At the time, for many months, I had been experiencing profound, sporadic bouts of anxiety due to a fear of dying at any moment through some unpredictable freak occurrence. In other words, I had a fear of dying young and having been in New York City for five straight days, those feelings of anxiety had been multiplied.
New York City is chaos on a good day, and with a fear of dying by randomness, I felt unable to measure my surroundings. My entire stay I found myself actively measuring up objects and people. I was fearful of buses clipping me, bicyclists running me down, AC units falling on me, subway shooters, or worse. I didn’t intentionally think these thoughts, but that micro-second hesitation before decisions flickered with fear.
