All breaths come in pairs; except the very first and the very last.
Still, I believe it is true that the majority of those who live here on our planet live with the firm conviction that they will never die.
True, conceptually, and intellectually, all of us know that one day we will, same as our grandparents did or our parents one day will; but regardless of age (I’m 62 writing this), this future event is not only quite unreal, but near-enough impossible to accept—and I truly mean accept—as an eventual certainty.
Nonetheless, death (along with taxes, apparently) is one of life’s two certainties, though so far away from you—and has so little to do with you—that you cannot even see it from here. You probably cannot even get there from here.
Montaigne once said that, for him, studying philosophy was to learn how to die. And more astute observations were rarely made.
This life is cruel to the extent that you seemingly have no choice whether to enter it, and you definitely have no choice whether or not to leave. When death rolls around, whether anticipated (as in a severe illness) or as a complete surprise, you exit, whether you want to or not.
Facing this fact, and learning more about it—or as Montaigne, learning how to—is not a morbid activity. Far from it. It may be the most liberating study you ever embarked upon.
For how real is death, really? What dies? Who dies? These questions deserve answers, and these answers may be crucial to a full and happy life.
Ulf Wolf