The last few days I have been posing a question to myself. And I've been wrestling with this question. Don't have an answer, it's the question itself, that kind of makes the point.
"Isn't it odd that you are here? That by luck and circumstance you find yourself alive and conscious? So much had to happen, had to unfold, for this to happen. Maybe a universe of circumstances and occurrences had to happen to finally land on "you." And you have a window on consciousness. This window is unique, unlike any other, and it's open for a relatively short time. So this being true, why are you wracked with guilt and anxiety? Why do you wrestle with an existential uncertainty? Why do you have doubt? Shouldn't you just be happy and in a state of wonder? Shouldn't you be thankful that you've lucked into a conscious life? Shouldn't every moment be bounded by a sort of stunned joy?"