An Empty Drafts Folder
I'm not afraid of death. But I've been thinking about what it means that all of these ideas are just sitting in a drafts folder, unshared.
Over the last 18 months I've been coming to terms with my own mortality. In February I narrowly avoided what could have been a nasty car accident. At a time when an invisible virus could change our fortunes within a week, I've never been more keenly aware that this is all temporary.
I've known this for a while, spiritually: that impermanence is the only guarantee, and I've been relieved to see for myself the field of bliss hiding behind the curtain.
I'm not afraid of death, but I have been thinking a lot about how to respond to the cosmic ephemerality of our own material lives.