People are always referring to an ancient primitive past, yet it’s possible no such time ever existed. In my mind I tend to allow for the possibility of Last Thursdayism. Perhaps existence began only a few days ago. Who knows if memories haven’t been implanted and artifacts faked.
In dreams for instance, we regularly create scenes in which backstories are implied and objects are placed as if they’ve always been there. Maybe life is but a dream. Or perhaps it’s a computer simulation. Either way, we can easily see that manufactured history is readily relatable.
Consequently, I don’t worry about the past (or future). It might be fiction. Nor do I buy into the idea that I’m comprised of components handed down from a primeval era as if my current makeup is unsuited for modern ways. By whatever method I’ve been manufactured, I’m appropriate for the moment I’m in.
What this open-mindedness grants me is peace-of-mind. Truth resides in a maze that never ends, whereas simple satisfying answers keep the mind from spiraling out of control. It seems counter-intuitive anchoring myself to a nebulous idea, yet within this mist I’ve found a firmer foundation.