How Did You Die?

For the Conscious Writer

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Photo by Jehyun Sung on Unsplash

What you’re willing to die for, should be the same as what you’re willing to live for. Death is inevitable. Not in a depressing way but we all know it’s coming. What’s unknown, though? Your greatness? The impact your writing will have? How much you will change with your mere existence? Those are all unknowns and they always will be. One of my favorite songs from Eminem’s Music to Be Murdered By -Side B album is his song titled Higher. Here’s a line

All I know is every time I think I hit my ceiling
I go higher than I’ve ever fuckin’ been

That’s something worth thinking about. For a long time, I knew my daughter was the only thing in this life worth dying for. I said that religiously. But I was killing myself. I had destructive thoughts. While I did enjoy fitness, I still wasn’t taking in enough calories so it was taking a toll on my mental health. My digestion went downhill. My emotions went downhill which had an impact on my relationship and ability to make proper decisions for the future of my daughter.

Then it hit one day. Okay, you’d die for your baby and your mom but what are you willing to stay alive for? Life is fuckin hard as shit. So hard in fact that living in a healthy way is the best most precious gift I could ever give to myself and my daughter.

That shift in mindset changed my entire perspective on why I’m alive and how I should be thinking about my purpose, my motivations, my disciplines, and my relationships.

So yes, how did you die, but it also means (and more importantly) How did you live?

How Did You Die?

Did you tackle that trouble that came your way
With a resolute heart and cheerful?
Or hide your face from the light of day
With a craven soul and fearful?

Oh, a trouble’s a ton, or a trouble’s an ounce,
Or a trouble is what you make it,
And it isn’t the fact that you’re hurt that counts,
But only how did you take it?

You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what’s that!
Come up with a smiling face.
It’s nothing against you to fall down flat,
But to lie there-that’s disgrace.

The harder you’re thrown, why the higher you bounce
Be proud of your blackened eye!
It isn’t the fact that you’re licked that counts;
It’s how did you fight-and why?

And though you be done to the death, what then?
If you battled the best you could,
If you played your part in the world of men,
Why, the Critic will call it good.

Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,
And whether he’s slow or spry,
It isn’t the fact that you’re dead that counts,
But only how did you die?

Edmund Vance Cooke

Publication: For the Conscious Writer

The highlights are lines Medium members thought were pretty awesome.

Be Both Scared and Courageous

Be Both Scared and Courageous 

Because I believe you can.

 
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Photo by  on 

I’m scared of a lot of things. I’m afraid of being wrong and bringing people down with me. I’m afraid of starting over, I’m afraid that making money off my writing is going to turn me into an egotistical asshole. I’m afraid I’m going to die too soon, but mostly and above all else, I’m afraid I’m failing my babies.

I used to allow these fears to dictate my daily behaviors. I created unhealthy rituals based on fear. They usually involved me not showing up so I didn’t have to worry about getting things wrong.

Too many people are thinking of security instead of opportunity. They seem to be more afraid of life than death.
— James F. Byrnes

But then I realized that death was a lot closer than I thought. I realized that I could wake up one day without having ever lived up to my dreams, …

View at Medium.com

Solipsism

She’s gone

snuffed out with just a thought

not person could save her

or her body

or her works

 

dead and gone

 

the gift of being mortal

the gift of life

to gift your body into the hands of another

because there is no fight

there never was

pain is an act of life

death is the grand-finale

but there’s no going out with a bang

it will be far less extravagant than that

-Saschia

On Writing honest characters

She’s Dead

I’ve softened from the wheel of time

My heart, swollen from loss

From love

These tipped toes move through the crevice where my suicide mocks me

And life burns my loose ends

I have become the voice I died for

Her crown tossed to the floor

Neglected by my attention

What is the reason for this, but my empty stomach

Starving for more more more

Heart

-Saschia