Death wants you to live

I joke a lot about death. Lightly, casually, frequently. Not sure why, but I just do. And a few years ago I actually kinda did almost die. A very scary, spontaneous bout of pneumonia (near sepsis) sent me to the hospital and now it seems as if I had dreamt it. I can’t say that it frames how I live every day, but it certainly crystallizes what matters. I’m both resentful for how fearful I’ve become, but also so grateful for the ability to reframe tough shitty things into minor inconveniences (most of the time).

Anyway, I saw this precious conversation between a father and his son about fearing death that reimagined it as your cheerleader in life, rather than the shadow we all see it to be. Instead of chasing you, it’s slowly walking toward you cheering you on, encouraging you to live more. It doesn’t want you to meet your end, it wants you to delay it as long as possible… and I think that’s really beautiful.

I hope you appreciate this reminder too.