I am scared of death.
Part of me is ashamed of me. Part of me wants to ‘conquer’ my fear of death. I am reminded of this by the ‘category’ I made for this blog – ‘Death’. The idea was to write posts about death, breaking down my sentiments into little details until all of my feelings concerning death, particularly fear, had been crushed.
But why do I want to vanquish my fear of death?
It’s a natural fear.
My ancestors survived long enough to reproduce partially because their were scared of death.
And what would it mean to not fear death. Is it possible to cherish life … and not fear death? I think the answer is yes … but doesn’t mean I need to squash my fear of death.
What I don’t want to do is avoid my fear of death. No, I don’t want to spend every waking moment contemplating my own death … but I also don’t want to hide from such thoughts. I don’t want them to have such power over me that I would need to hide.
Yet wanting to overcome this fear of death … isn’t that in a way letting it have power over me? Wouldn’t my fear have less power if I just let it sit there, not ignoring it, but also not trying to change it.
The ‘nice’ thing about death, though, is that the choice has been made. I am going to die. Therefore I can go about on my business until the time has come.