I found some time and space away from my insecurities and sat by the river, pondering on the strange instruction I sought solace in.
“Write your own obituary notice.”
The author was spot-on about this being a morbid suggestion, but he was equally spot-on about it being a useful exercise. I think that’s when it started, living my life with death in mind. I guess it is not often that we are confronted with such a direct invitation to really consider: how does the way we want to leave the world influence the way we live in the world? Turns out that life and death are far more intricately linked than being discrete, polar opposites.