I died last night.

It was not as I expected. No drama, no tears, no farewell messages. One could say, it has been really gentle.

Very quickly, I realized what was going on, as I saw my body from outside with no chance whatsoever for me to interact with it. Me? Oh wow. There is a “ME” and “MY BODY”. For the first time I can really feel they are not the same thing. Turns out, I AM NOT my body.

Ironically, I recalled that this moment is also known as “passing away”.
Well, it doesn’t feel to be really “away”, here. Not now, at least.

Wake up! You still have so many things to do, people to meet, places to see!

I wanted to shake myself up, so that I could come back to life. But I had nothing to shudder my body with.
Then came the shock.

I cannot believe I spent my last evening being depressed because my team had lost the afternoon game.
I died last night. Was all the fuss of life really worth it?

This was just the beginning of a thread of anguishing questions:

When did I say last time to my parents that I loved them? Why was I always so timid to say “I love you” to the people I felt close to?

Why did I feel distressed at work? Was it really SO important that it deserved to be perceived as a continuous strain?

Why was I getting always so nervous for many tiny, irrelevant things?

Why winning had been always so important?

Now it’s all over. I squandered countless thoughts and energies to protect myself against any sort of fear. And now here I am. What on earth was I afraid of?

Why did I let myself feel treated unfairly? It looks like everyone on the planet keeps finding good reasons for that. Was there ever anyone that could let-go of that insane idea and realize it is just a matter of perception?

How could I not SEE it?

Why didn’t I just appreciate more intensely the beauty that surrounded me? Why didn’t I enjoy more the time with other human beings? I was physically there, but often my mind was somewhere else, wrapped around my fears and expectations.
Why didn’t I trust more? Created more, laughed more… LOVED more?


“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I 
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
(Robert Frost — The road not taken)

I woke up this morning. It turns out, it was all just a dream. Not a nightmare though. This morning I did not simply “wake up”.

I awakened.

A year has passed since the day I died for the first time. 
To be precise, it has been 365 days of births and deaths.
Everyday when I wake up, I’m born anew. I observe places and little details with awe. I smell and taste as if it was the first time. I perceive every encounter as a holy encounter, as I judge not my fellow human beings on the basis of their past, cause I do not have any experience of it. Nor I judge through the distorting lenses of my own past, cause I don’t have one anymore.

I feel so blessed. Dying everyday has released me from the burden of the fears I had created and the expectations I had imposed on myself and others.

I died last night. And that’s how I found Freedom.
Some may call it Salvation. The one you can find in this world.

Vale, November 2016


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