Mortality.


The truth, at times jarring and painful, and at others, soft and liberating.

I read a book last week, it was really good. It's called When Breath Becomes Air. The story of a neurosurgeon and his relationship with death. It bears echoes of my relationship with death, and maybe yours too.

It's amazing that deep thinking on this reality is such a powerful force of clarification. One day I will die, and the most I can hope for when the time comes is to greet death as an old friend. A friend who has been beside me all along, not as an antagonist, but as a guide...if only I can learn to listen.

I once listened to a podcast of Jack Kornfield where he said something along the lines of; what matters at the end of life? Only this–how well did you love? It struck me and stuck in my mind. This. This is the truth. The transcendent, liberating, truth.

I find it is a really effective catalyst of self-appreciation. All the bullshit I used for self-flagellation evaporates, and I am left with a deep appreciation for my life. Compassion for myself flows easily and I see what a gift it is to be given this life.

thank you. thank you. thank you.

I have to keep writing. This is a recurring theme.

It's a problem, though, because I am afraid. Afraid of being vulnerable–with myself, with the internet.

I spent some time today thinking about social pressure and asking myself hard questions about what it is that really matters in life. What motivates me? If I am honest, I don't like the answer.

Part of me forgives my brain for being so preoccupied with external measures of success and prestige. This is the by-product of six million years of hominid evolution, after all. It's survival: earn acceptance (avoid rejection) or suffer the consequences.

Another part of me knows that there is a different way to live, if only I could work up the courage. It would be so liberating to unshackle myself from the pillars that I am so tightly bound to, especially subconsciously. Why not just give myself the freedom to live in the world that I create?

Part of the difficulty stems from having a rational voice that has been settling in to my mind with increasing stubbornness as I get older. There is only so far I can go before I get uncomfortable and my self-deception alarms start sounding.

Is there a divine plan for everything? I think no. Is everything exactly as it should be? I think yes.

The trouble then is integrating this kind of knowledge with the realities of every day life.