Death

I’ve been thinking about death lately. For about a week prior to a trip to visit my cousins in Kentucky to help film videos, I’ve been in witness of the thoughts about my own death, and many ideations of it. Let me be clear that these are not in the form of self-harm. It’s also been a thought experiment for me, constantly asking myself questions posing the balance of life and death. For instance, I’ve been wondering if I myself have even been living. I’ve been noticing a growing list of things in life that I wish to do, but have pushed aside because I need to make “enough” money. The reality of death brings the word “enough” into question.

I pose a question; If death is inevitable, why are we so afraid to truly live?

I’m 25 years old, but any day I could lose this opportunity in life. This opportunity to seek and explore, to communicate with as many people as I can, sitting one-on-one and learning story after story, making leaps and jumps, doing something that feeds my soul. There are risks that I’m afraid of taking, but the thought of “I could lose everything” transforms into “What’s the worst that could happen, I die?” And when you begin feeling more and more comfortable with the concept of death, that doesn’t really seem like the worst thing, to me.

To top it off while I was in Kentucky I met with two people who had near-death experiences very recently, then began having dreams of multiple scenarios of my own death. I’m thankful to those I know in life, and I’m fortunate because my cousins that I was visiting are very well-learned in psychology, philosophy, and alternative medicine. I won’t go into too much detail, only that which might be useful to you, but I got acupuncture for the first time with my cousin, and we went through these dreams that I was having. What my cousin taught me was that I wasn’t dying in these dreams, the scenes would end just before death, and what seemed about to kill me was my higher self, when in reality I was simply afraid of letting my higher self take me away from my body, thus my ego was the one defending itself. There were many times I killed my way toward survival, many times that I hid, and many times I closed the door. All to destroy a part of myself that was desperately wishing to speak to me.

While writing a wind blew that had a stirring nature to it. A storm was brewing but when that storm would occur was in question. The wind itself put many things in motion. Here’s what I wrote in response:

The winds of change are coming. I just received the message. What has been telling me that there will be new moments? What has offered me this? Where is it coming from? All I know is that it’s coming. I know it’s coming, I sense it close by, and I’m curious where it will come from but I know that it’s coming. Do you feel it? Just as if it’s whispering in your ear, “The time is coming soon, prepare.” I wonder how I might be able to prepare. The only way I know is this, let’s offer thought.

I think my answers are still coming, and those answers will lead to new questions, but I believe a death is coming, I can’t say a physical life, but I know something will be let go, and these dreams and these thoughts, and these experiences and messages, are all leading to a new moment in my life. How many times will I die in this lifetime of mine? I ask expecting a few more times after this, curious how it might show up, and in which way will it occur. How many ideations of death will come about through life? The only way I can know is to live and live fully.