စိတ်ထဲရှိသမျှ

I heard this thought-provoking idea from a friend about a decade ago. I can’t recall the exact words now, but I believe it went something like, “As we focus on the days we assume we have left, we tend to forget the day we will inevitably leave this world.” I have been reflecting on this for the past few days; the more I think about it, the more I find myself realising, like many others, that I don’t think much about death in my everyday life. And like many others, I also take tomorrow for granted. This, of course, goes without saying how much I love to fill my days with endless plans—

Death is weird.  After a while, everybody acts like it will change them and make them appreciate everything— friends, family, and each new day. But then, little by little, life resumes being normal again. You forget the dead person, or if you don’t precisely forget them, you just put them into deep mental storage, like you’re putting away jumpers for the summer. Years ago, I met a monk seeking solitude and self-transcendence in the jungle.