Lots of people don’t like talking about death. Some people do. Some are ambivalent. Some are obsessed. Wherever we are on the spectrum, there is a truth in nature that is this: everything dies. The cycle of birth, life, death exists everywhere.
Over the course of my life I’ve experienced moments when I was very fearful of death. Other moments when my mortality was very present and yet death wasn’t a concern. Still other times when no concern for my mortality, nor the idea of death, was present for me.
Regardless, I’ve found a particular beauty in the idea of numbered days. I’ve come to desire a clear perspective of my mortality.
When mortality isn’t present I’ve lost the urgency of life. Not the stress that each day hoists on us, but the urgency of a life lived thoroughly through each moment.
A clear perspective of mortality comes with a comfort of the natural occurrence of death. This comfort eliminates the fear of death. It will happen. Our best hope is to die well, in our purpose.
So, I number my days. Moving forward with each day I’m given, my mind is put to the thoughts it is meant to have, my heart points towards that which it is designed to worship, and my hands are put to the work they were made for.