We often move through life as though death were an abstract concept, something that happens to others, far away, in some distant future. But when death enters our lives — through loss, illness, or the simple passing of time — it becomes intensely real, reshaping the landscape of our inner world.

Death is not simply an end. It is a mirror, reflecting back the urgency and preciousness of each moment we are given. It asks us, sometimes relentlessly: How do I want to live? What truly matters to me? Whom do I wish to love more deeply?

In my work, I have found that facing the reality of mortality can awaken us to life in a way that no other experience can. When we stop turning away from death, we begin to turn more fully toward life — toward authentic connection, honest self-examination, and a greater capacity to hold both joy and sorrow.

This does not mean making peace with death once and for all. Rather, it means entering into an ongoing dialogue with it — allowing it to guide us back to what is essential.

There is a saying in the Talmud: "Repent one day before your death." Of course, no one knows the day of their death — and that is precisely the point. We are called to live each day as if it were both our first and our last, with openness, gratitude, and the courage to be true to ourselves.

May we allow death to be our teacher — not a source of paralyzing fear, but a gentle, persistent reminder to live with intention and love.