Spence Looks Into the Void

by Spence McClanahan, Occasional Contributor

The other night I was brushing my teeth and caught my reflection in the mirror real good, real clear, and for some reason, I had a thought:

“Am I a NPC or a Main character? What if none of this is real? What if I’m not real?”

And friends, let me tell you: that was not the kind of thought you want to have after 11 p.m. when your fridge light has been flickering and you ate a container of expired yogurt.

I stood there, foaming like a rabid raccoon, staring at myself, trying to figure out if I was still… in the system. Like, was I Spence, human mammal, citizen of Earth or was I some glitch, some optical accident, some nervous system that just thinks it’s making choices?

God help me, I leaned into it. “Go on, Spence. Be a man. Face the truth.” So I did what some smart-sounding article once said: I really looked. Not just at the skin and the crow’s feet. Not just the pockmarks and faint regret. I tried to see underneath.

“Observe the skull beneath the skin,” I whispered like a guy auditioning for a role in a very bad Hamlet production. “Focus on the empty sockets looking back at you. Imagine your flesh rotting away, your cheeks sinking, your lips peeling back from your teeth. Meditate on the fact that everything and everyone you love will die and pass into dust. Say their names. Remember.”

And friends, for about three horrifying seconds, I almost did it. I almost slipped through the veil into that sacred, terrible place: mortality, impermanence, the cold white fact that everything you are is already sliding into the dirt..

But then… right then… my lizard brain screamed: “Whoa there, cowboy, you still got half a Dr Pepper in the fridge.” Jjust like that, enlightenment packed up its little carpetbag and left.

The next day I tried to read something about the mass extinction we’re living through. Not like a conspiracy site or some Facebook uncle yelling about whales, a real thing, a government report.
It said, politely but firmly, that we’re basically screwing the whole planet sideways at a speed that makes the dinosaurs look like slow learners. It said millions of species are dying. It said we’re losing the reefs, the frogs, the eagles, the bees; basically everything except raccoons, roaches, and rats. (Which, frankly, are the three animals that would definitely survive a nuclear war anyway, so maybe they deserve it.)

I sat with that for a minute.

And then my brain did the Spence thing again.
It went: “Maybe I’ll finally plant those tomatoes this year.”

Because here’s the truth:
I know the parade is marching straight into the abyss.
I know the sky is getting hotter and the ocean is swallowing up the beach towns and half the birds I grew up hearing don’t sing anymore.
I know it like I know I’m overdue for a dentist appointment: badly, vaguely, guiltily.

And what am I supposed to do?

Walk into traffic and start screaming?

No.
I do what we all do.
I buy a $8 packet of heirloom seeds on Amazon.
I promise myself I’ll be better.
I turn the news off after the first bad headline and try to remember if it’s recycling day.

Anyway, I think what I’m trying to say is:
If you look too long into the void, the void does look back.
But if you’re lucky, it also hands you a coupon for Gatorade.
Limited time only. Save while supplies last.

Happy Spring, y’all.