Eight and Counting

This has been the year of deaths for me.

Every year is a year of death though!

I guess what I mean is this:

Never before have I ever experienced the passing of so many people I know or have a connection to, the way I have in 2018. Eight deaths, in four months. I’ve gone forty-four years with only a sprinkling of losses, here and there. How lucky am I?

This last one was a doozy. I spent the week in shock and horror.

It’s not even particularly abnormal or anything. People die, all the time. Every day. In calm peaceful ways and in horrid, violent ways. What’s peculiar to me is the volume of people in my life or connected to my life somehow, in such a short period of time.

I feel like I’m being trained for something. And I am! My own death. The deaths of those closest to me.

My intuition tells me to get off my ass and get our wills done up but that’s just good sense. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m going to suffer a huge loss soon. Is this just fear or reality?

Ha, I’m thinking fear of reality.


All these deaths feel like small earthquakes leading up to the “big event”

I mean, I’m blessed and lucky and all that but it is highly unlikely that I’ll slide in to old age unscathed by a major loss. It’s simply a matter of when.


I read an article somewhere that suggested we thank death when it comes calling. Thank it as if it were a gift. For it is a great reminder of our own frailty and of the impermanence of all things.

I think that’s easy enough to do when it’s not happening to you.

Hell, I find that pretty easy to do in relation to myself! I’m more curious about my own death than I am fearful.

I just cant see it as a gift when it comes to take my loved ones. And I’m not at all there when it comes to fuck up the lives of the young and vulnerable.

Yes, I’m grasping. Yes, I’m ignoring a fundamental truth. 

Isn’t that interesting though. I’m not super afraid of my own death. I don’t want to go just yet but I’m not all that worried. I know from having lived through a few near-death moments that one is so in the moment, one doesn’t really have time to even think about death. And in the moments when there is time, it’s so fleeting that you either accept it and something happens to change the situation or you fight it and are busy doing that.

Your experience may differ of course. That’s always been mine.

When it comes to experiencing the loss of a loved one, or watching others experiencing the loss of their loved ones..that’s where I struggle. I wonder if what I’m really fearing is not death so much as its fear of suffering?

I do hate suffering. Ha! We all hate suffering.


The truth is, I am exceptional at suffering.

I may hate it, like everyone else but turning pain into power is one of my super powers. I excel at being a hot mess and then cleaning my own self up, wiser and calmer in the end, than ever before. I must remember this!

How do you handle suffering? What are your thoughts on these subjects? Are you afraid of death or are you afraid of suffering?

What’s your super power?


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