Death

“The more important the project we take on, the more difficult it is to find certainty that our work will succeed before we begin. 

We can begin with this: If we failed, would it be worth the journey? Do you trust yourself enough to commit to engaging with a project regardless of the chances of success?

The first step is to separate the process from the outcome.

Not because we don’t care about the outcome. But because we do.”

— Seth Godin, The Practice 

I am not afraid of death. 

This notion of regret—what we could’ve done differently in the past, or the fear of not achieving what we could’ve achieved had we still been alive—simply doesn’t bother me. 

I have no regret because the mistakes that I’ve made were themselves the reason for my change to become self-aware enough in the first place to understand myself and my emotions, to break free of my impulses and desires, and to be able to extricate my consciousness from my mere existence on this Earth. 

I have no regret because there’s no reason thinking I could’ve done better, when the fact of the matter is that I didn’t.

I have no regret because I am grateful for all that I’ve ever done, all that I’ve never done, everything that I know and don’t know, everyone that I once knew or never knew.

the suffering of dark times and the elation of happier times, 

the indignation towards vile injustices and the anger in my heart, 

the disillusionment, the dread of the vapid and the misery of lingering complacency, 

the loneliness, the yearning for love and connection, and being able to finally find comfort and solace, 

I have no regret because I am grateful for the very fact that I am able to partake in this experience of what we call life—to be endlessly fascinated by my very existence, every second that I continue to breathe. 

If tomorrow a meteor wiped me off the face of the planet, or if I died from a horrific car accident, who am I to both predict such an event and prevent it from happening in the first place? Whether it’s God or merely fate and the weight of circumstances that determined that it’s my time to go under, then so be it. If it’s decided that I no longer need to contribute to this world, then let it be. 

The culmination of my life up until this point is learning to separate the outcome from the process, the destination from the journey.

It is realizing simultaneously that I’ve done my best and that I can always do better. 

It is to constantly live a better life because of my past, not despite it. 

It is to understand that because uncertainty in the process of life is profoundly embedded as an integral part of each of our stories as human beings, we have no reason to constantly fight against it, regardless of success or happiness, and all the more reason to embrace it. 

I am not afraid of death because I have decided to have courage. This is the courage to understand what change my existence in this world is capable of effecting, whether good or bad. It means that in order to to stand up for what I believe is right, it requires that I first understand wrong at its most profound level; it requires that I am willing to comprehend the most abysmal of all evils, the most morally bereft and reprehensible acts done by humanity that has taken countless lives, and understanding that each and every one of us are all capable of replicating such horrors if we do not confront the shadow self that resides deep within all of us. Having courage means that I am willing to look the serpent straight in the eyes—to come to terms with the harrowing notion of death, the very state of not existing, itself—and still be able to do what we have to do in this world, to live the life we’re meant to live, whatever that may mean.

And so I decided to undertake a project, indeed, of utmost importance and of diminutive levels of certainty. And I will let it be conveyed to you through a vow I wrote for myself on a dark, lonely night in December last year:

I will fight for what’s right to my grave.

I will never compromise my integrity or the well-being of others under any circumstance.

I will stand up and advocate for not only those who endure injustice and oppression, 

but also those that silently strain against the invisible chains of their captive mind.

to elevate our consciousness and perspective and ground ourselves to the lowliest among us.

It is to fight a battle against an absurd, unjust world,

to bring purpose and meaning banal existence,

to sing for the unsung heroes and the undeserving alike,

to be the poet that captures the very essence, 

the underlying theme of everyone’s stories

And if it means losing everything, so be it.

What would you still do, if you knew you would fail?