The Pain Of Death

Death is a part of life. While this has become a cliche, it does not diminish its accuracy. It is the end of the cycle for everything and everyone. Why is something that is such an integral part of our existence, have such a devastating effect when it occurs? Why do some of us get stuck, not being able to change anything about the cycle of death, and not being able to move on and live our lives to the fullest? We all know, and tell each other, that our loved ones would want us to go on and enjoy our lives. Yet we sink into, and wallow, in the misery and sorrow when someone dies.​

​ Why do those of us who manage to get past the pain, feel the need for the appearances of sorrow, lest we are found out and labeled as "unfeeling" and thereby "uncaring"? Why do we feel as though we will be judged on how long we mourned, and anything less than a certain amount of time is somehow disrespectful? Why is there guilt over letting someone go? Why do we feel that to let go of someone dear to us, somehow betrays our memory of them? Why do we feel that if we can let them go, it somehow means we didn't love them as much as we thought?

What is wrong with our approach to death? What is wrong with our understanding of it? What is wrong with our beliefs about it?​ What do we not know about it that would prevent this regular, everyday, cyclically occurring, life experience, from wreaking such havoc and bringing such misery?