How is this comment already 7 days old? Also, wet Head Canon do you have for lohar?? I remember being peeved at the what I thought was a insulting description in the books and lo and behold the 180 makes me think that this is what Martin originally intended. Polyamorous gender fluid pirate for the win.
I did not expect you to talk about Technoblade, he was my favourite youtuber. I really enjoyed his content, hearing him in this video gave me memories of his streams. RIP Techno, blood for the blood god!
My brother died two years ago. This morning I woke up from a dream where he had eaten an ice cream I was saving. For a moment I thought I should message him about how funny this dream was, since we are both adults and it has been years since he nicked my snacks. Then I remembered we aren't both adults, because he is dead, and I can't message him anymore.
I will take the fact that I gave this comment its 69th like to my grave as a trophy of my life. No one before me nor after can ever claim this highly specific and entirely inconsequential act. But I suppose we can all enjoy the absurdity and stupidity of this.
@@OutsideSometimes Your likes and comments on the internet are far from insignificant. They will outlast your mortal existence. They may be read by future generations. They will influence vast and intricate algorithms. They are your digital legacy.
@@jordancrago5129 It's totally normal to be afraid of things that cause death. In my view, the sentiment expressed by this quote is more about learning to embrace the fact that you will eventually die just like everyone else, rather than try to avoid thinking about it out of fear. Don't let the fear of death control you.
"Political power is the ability to decide whose life matters" is one powerful summary. As someone who spends a lot of their time trying to get young people to care about, understand, and engage with politics there are a lot of ways to go about trying to explain how political powers impact the daily life of someone so they can understand the tangible impact of who in power affects them. That sentence works really damn well to illustrate the point that politics is not just whether or not your water and electricity are private or publicly owned. It's far deeper than that.
That’s why I also don’t get it when some people say “why bring politics into this” or “what does this have to do with politics?” When anything and everything has to do with politics and THIS is the reason why.
My wife was 38 when we found out about her breast cancer. 7 years later she was dead. 7 years of struggle. 7 years of our children dealing with mom deteriorating. Why was mom mad? (because cancer was in her brain) Why was mom's face so puffy? (steroids) The mortician want us to pay for a open casket (never mind that Lorna would NEVER have let herself seen that way). The only people who needed to understand were the children, and they had already seen her fade. Death happens. It's the worst. We miss her. She isn't in pain. She isn't being mean because her brain is rotting. We miss her
It's always so difficult when a loved one is dying, and you want to be there with them, but at the same time you know that they don't want to be seen that way. The matriarch of my family was such. A few years before her passing I spent a summer helping take care of her, and she apologized that I had to do it. In the end another stroke left her quite catatonic, but when I looked in her eyes I knew she was still sad that she had to be doted on. Headstrong and aggressively loving woman. I know she would have wanted to be with us for 20 more years or so if she could. Love you mamaw
"Ironically, dying is a very social activity." This sentence jumped out at me, it hit me how good this argument is at countering the nihilistic phrase "we all die alone".
It is unnatural for most humans to die alone. Customs since millennia ago say that physically living close relatives ought to be present to comfort the dying one and bid her/him farewell. Even when this custom is not followed in our "modern", "enlightened" (in reality most ignorant, superstitious, delusional, materialistic) times, the "dead" or rather emotionally living, physically freed, close ones to the dying one usually comes to meet and greet her/him into the afterlife.
Not really, because even if you are surrounded by people as you die, it is ultimately YOUR death, it is YOUR life that is ending, and it is YOUR feelings and thoughts about it that YOU have to experience. So, yeah, in an important sense, death is a very individual, personal thing.
@@jordancrago5129 But would this way of thinking mean everything, not just death, is ultimately a personal experience? And now turning it around, isn't death (in the ways others have described here), as social as anything else?
@@cukka99 No, because you are constantly stuck in your own head. No one has access to what it is like to be you. So I think there is some truth in the claim that we live and die alone. That only becomes some maladaptive edgelord thing if you use to justify socially isolating yourself
being a Ukainian during the russian invasion, I have to think about death every day, several times a day - and talk about it with other people, too. a ballistic missile launched from russia reaches my area in just a few minutes, so people don't really have time to run to a shelter. so many people here have been coming to the conclusion that "if the missile hits me, it hits me; there's nothing I can do with that." becoming at peace with the possibility of dying at any given moment is the only way we can keep living and somehow functioning, especially considering the growing disinterest and ignorance from the people and countries that could actually help us.
I learned that is where "Keep calm and carry on" was popularized as well - a Great Britain being bombed by Germany. I've not had this experience yet, but if I do I hope I can face it with your courage. Wishing you and your country the peace you deserve.
@@PhilosophyTube cringe asf for more than five years I used to go to school and bombing was everywhere during the Iraq War and never told my parents cuz I thought this is normal, my sister 6 years old was traumatized cuz American troops got in to our house while she was showering, btw my I'm palestinian my grandgrandfather was killed in Jerusalem by the Israelis during prayers in Al-Aqsa mosque, my paternal tribe were kicked out from the Arabian Peninsula (back then Najd and Hejaz now you call it Saudi Arabia just like how you call Palestine Israel) by Al Saudi with the help of the British, and now I'm refugee just like my ancestors the Palestinians and the Nomads, feel like Hannah Arendt if she were King Killmonger "cuz they knew death was better than bondage", so yah empty babygirl, the hatred I got for the western world is generational. I hope Ukraine loses the war not because I like Putin Russia never forget what they did in Syria but just so your free society gets a slap on his face. Long live the Resistance, not the right now iranian regime back organization except for Hamas. For Hamas, just like the first Zionists, Hannah Arendt comments in her Jewish Writings that for the Zionists the enemy of my enemy is my friend, that's Hamas today. So long live Hamas and the other palestinian resistance group, the marxist, the secular, the liberal and all. As Badiou says this is the beginning of a long walk and the struggle continues, so Rancière and free Palestine, bitch!
cringe asf for more than five years I used to go to school and bombing was everywhere during the Iraq War and never told my parents cuz I thought this is normal, my sister 6 years old was traumatized cuz American troops got in to our house while she was showering, btw my I'm palestinian my grandgrandfather was killed in Jerusalem by the Israelis during prayers in Al-Aqsa mosque, my paternal tribe were kicked out from the Arabian Peninsula (back then Najd and Hejaz now you call it Saudi Arabia just like how you call Palestine Israel) by Al Saudi with the help of the British, and now I'm refugee just like my ancestors the Palestinians and the Nomads, feel like Hannah Arendt if she were King Killmonger "cuz they knew death was better than bondage", so yah empty babygirl, the hatred I got for the western world is generational. I hope Ukraine loses the war not because I like Putin Russia never forget what they did in Syria but just so your free society gets a slap on his face. Long live the Resistance, not the right now iranian regime back organization except for Hamas. For Hamas, just like the first Zionists, Hannah Arendt comments in her Jewish Writings that for the Zionists the enemy of my enemy is my friend, that's Hamas today. So long live Hamas and the other palestinian resistance group, the marxist, the secular, the liberal and all. As Badiou says this is the beginning of a long walk and the struggle continues, so Rancière and free Palestine, bitch!
cringe asf for more than five years I used to go to school and bombing was everywhere during the Iraq War and never told my parents cuz I thought this is normal, my sister 6 years old was traumatized cuz American troops got in to our house while she was showering, btw my I'm palestinian my grandgrandfather was k¡||eð in Jerusalem by the Israelis during prayers in Al-Aqsa mosque, my paternal tribe were kicked out from the Arabian Peninsula (back then Najd and Hejaz now you call it Saudi Arabia just like how you call Palestine Israel) by Al Saudis with the help of the British, and now I'm refugee just like my ancestors the Palestinians and the Nomads, feel like Hannah Arendt if she were King Killmonger "cuz they knew death was better than bondage", so yah empty babygirl, the hatred I got for the western world is generational. I hope Ukraine loses the war not because I like Putin Russia never forget what they did in Syria but just so your free society gets a slap on his face. Long live the Resistance, not the right now iranian regime back organization except for H@m@s. For H@m@s, just like the first Zionists, Hannah Arendt comments in her Jewish Writings that for the Zionists the enemy of my enemy is my friend, that's Hamas today. So long live H@m@s and the other palestinian resistance group, the marxist, the secular, the liberal and all. As Badiou says this is the beginning of a long walk and the struggle continues, so Rancière and free Palestine, bitch!
...We do have AI. It just occurred to me a facsimile of ourselves could be uploaded. We'd have to also have a maintenance fund for the AI impression of ourselves. It wouldn't be _us,_ per se, more an archive of self.
"I'm just pork with delusions of grandeur" 😂😂 I'll never forget when my youthful delusions of invincibility disappeared in an instant in a very near car crash 😅
i genuinely had an "our troubles seem so small from up here" moment when falling gracelessly down the set of stairs i was trying to skate. i was also high as shit so maybe that was why idk.
For me it was a case of 10 year old me on a bike speeding down a hill, almost crashing into a car I did not see coming. Thank god the breaks were maintained.
When you said "But David Lewis is also dead." during your poem, and started tearing up, I started crying. We can say all these grand, romantic things about the nature of death, but that doesn't make the person any less dead. Any less gone from our lives. I'm not afraid of dying, it sounds quite comforting, an eternal blankness of nothingness, my body feeding mushrooms and worms. But when my mother talks about her future passing, I basically cover my ears. I can't even think of it. She talks of it so easily, the same way I talk of my own inevitable death, and we send each other spiraling with the thought of being the one left behind.
I've been writing fanfiction for over 20 years now, and the most significant and monumental thing that ever happened to me, was when a fandom aquaintance died, and her friend reached out to me afterwards, to let me know she passed, and that my stories kept her entertained and distracted as the end drew near. If I do nothing else in my life, at least I gave someone comfort near the end of theirs. And that's MY hero moment, I think.
Fanfiction kept me company so many times at Mom's appointments during that last year of her life. I'm grateful for those moments to spend time differently. That's a very good hero moment, indeed.
Fun fact, you can have a "fannish next-of-kin" on AO3. This "next of kin" person will take over your account and update/keep up the account for you. Every person can do this, and the fannish next-of-kin can have another one that can have another one and so on and so forth. So yeah. It's in their TOS. Go check it out.
Hey man, it's "20-Something", surely they have improved upon traditional banner.. Maybe a ChatGPT you can give your voice, likeness and values to. Then freak out everyone at your wake, like a ghost in a TV screen
I lost my Mother in 2020 just before the pandemic lockdown. She'd had a cough over Christmas that wouldn't go away, she kept saying that the doctor's were going to prescribe antibiotics over the phone. Eventually, they arranged a home visit after several weeks and she didn't get better. I saw her that day, before the Doctor arrived, then left to put on some gas and electric for her and went to work. Later than night I had a call that doctor had immediately sent her to hospital and she was in A&E. I went to see her the next day, we had about half an hour together, but she was wearing an oxygen mask and the hospital staff said she wasn't taking enough oxygen in on her own and had to be put in a coma and on a ventilator. She spent 3 weeks in a coma before the damage the ventilator did to her lungs made it impossible for her to continue to live unassisted. I had to tell them when we wanted them to end her life. One day, I had a mother, the next she was in a coma, and then I didn't. It's a surreal experience. Two years later I realised I was trans and am now living as the real me, unburdened by the anxiety of how she would have taken it. But I wonder what kind of relationship we would have had quite often. My girlfriend has hung pictures up of her but I feel like a fraud looking at them, the person she knew and loved was more not me than me, the person she knew was my attempt to be the person she wanted me to be. Her death helped me to admit to myself that I was trans, but also when she was alive it was not wanting to put her through the experience of having a trans child that contributed me to missing out on the youth I should have had. Death is brutally weird.
Thank you for this. Someone important to me died before I became an adult and fully understood myself in my queerness. I've often wondered if she would have supported me or if she could have helped me coming to terms with coming out to some people. I'll obviously never know because she's dead.
When I was 5 years old, I asked my grandpa when he would die. It was a sunny day, we were sitting in his garden and I was hugging him while we were sitting as I so often did, and he wasn't presently sick. I simply wanted to know - as I explained to him when he expressed that my question hurt him - the date of his death, so I could calculate how much time we could still spend together to make me appreciate it even more. As a 5-year old, I'd thought my grandpa would know the answer to that question because grown-ups somehow knew everything. The fact that he couldn't give me an answer left me, an autistic child who really loved their grandpa, unsatisfied. He died 10 years later when I was 15. I remember having a very, _very_ strong sense of foreboding when I saw him for the last time, at a café just a few days before he departed for a three-week vacation. Ironically, I was in deep shock when I got the news of his passing, because I had _wanted_ my intuition to be wrong. My last interaction with him was outside the café. I asked him for his phone number, which I'd had forgotten and wasn't saved in our family phone, saying that I wanted to meet up with him again once he came back from vacation. - For the previous few years, my abusive mother had isolated me from my grandpa, and I'd been scared to meet him behind her back. He must've been really sad not seeing his grandchildren for all those years, perhaps he even thought it was because I didn't care about him or our relationship anymore... So when I told him I wanted to visit him again, he couldn't believe it at first, but then he was very touched. For a long time, I was feeling a deep regret for not spending more time with him before he passed away (even though I knew it hadn't really been by choice). It was only about two years ago when I was able to let that go, because I knew - I _know for certain_ - that my grandpa died thinking he would see his grandchild again. He was looking forward to spending time with me after he came back. He died knowing I missed him and loved him and wanted him to be a part of my life. And that is the most important thing to me. The only thing I still regret a little bit is that I don't remember his phone number, just the number of digits and what the first one or two digits were. Since I usually remember phone numbers very well, I didn't think to write it down at the time either; or, if I did, I must've lost the note by now. It also kind of makes me scared that I will slowly forget all the other things about him until he is nothing more than a vague, cool memory. But then I remember that even this doesn't really matter - because even if my mind forgets him, my body won't. My deep love and affinity for music, I inherited from him. My unique sense of humor, I also inherited from him. The profound experience that my existence and my authentic self are a source of genuine joy for someone else, is something he gave me. The warm tears rolling down my cheeks right now are tears of gratitude, admiration, joy, sorrow, and love. I love him so much and always will. Dear Grandpa, thank you for everything you've shared with me. Most importantly, for being happy that I am alive. I miss you ❤
Thank you for sharing your story even though it brought the tears to MY eyes thinking of the passing of my father 51 years ago, still fresh in my memory.
This is a beautiful story, thank you for sharing it. I really relate to how you describe keeping the memory of your grandfather alive through yourself. When I was 16, someone I loved took his own life. I'm 30 now, and as the years went on I realized that my memories of him were becoming less vivid, and that I was losing some of them. For a while I would panic every time I remembered that that was happening, thinking that I was slowly losing him for good. But I realized a few years ago that some of the things I like most about myself and that people close to me have said they love (my love of reading and learning, my effort to understand and accept people who I disagree with, my ability to listen to people and not judge them) are all things that I got from him. Unless I somehow become a completely different person, I'll never lose him as long as I live because he's part of who I am. That realization takes a lot of time and grief to get to, but it brings so much peace. They'll be with us forever because they are part of who we are. And I think that's a beautiful thing.
@@unicorn-glasses Thank you, too, for sharing. The person you're talking about sounds wonderful. I also think it's a very beautiful thing to keep our loved ones with us through ourselves, even when they're no longer with us physically. I'm glad you could come to this realization and find peace through it, too.
Thank you for this. It was beautifully written, and very touching. I have a living grandpa, who I have very little relationship with because of my mother, and it feels hopeless to know that his time (like anyone’s) can’t last forever. So this hit close to home for me, in addition to being a lovely and unexpected story from you.
I'm autistic. My family was abusive, and my autism exacerbated that abuse. I've had two different retail jobs where the constant masking required, denying me the means to cope with the mundane stresses of day-to-day living, was a kind of torture. So for me, ironically... at least to an extent, I associate death with _relief._ Both in that my family dying one by one freed me from them and that at those retail jobs, taking my own life felt like the only way to free myself. Thankfully, it wasn't the only way out, I ended up quitting both and am still very much alive, but at the time, it felt like it.
i think i can relate. i had a lot of suicidal ideation while in school, but i never acted on it. it was my way of coping with the stress by reminding myself that there was always a way out. even my current therapist acknowledges that that's not incorrect, it's just a fact of life! denying that doesn't help anyone. thankfully i'm doing better now, and i'm glad you are, too :)
I feel like this feeling is not only ridiculously common, but also a perfect example of organizational ignorance; however on a scale at least as large as western society. We "CAN" have knowledge and discussion about stress, grief, depression(to an extent), and even suicide, but the concept that for some, for MANY, death was, or is held as a relief. Thought of not as a stop of progress, a loss of capability; rather, it is a relief from oppression, a gain of freedom. Things become even stickier when talking or thinking about relief brought about by the death of another. Especially when that other is someone you love dearly. When I was 18 I moved in with my grandparents to help take care of my grandfather. His body was failing as a result of decades of brilliance and hedonism. Additionally due to a liver in name only, he had severe ammonia retention issues, resulting in him essentially developing severe dementia-like symptoms and subsequently recovering lucidity 2 to 3 times per day. I love and admire this man more than just about anyone else in the world, far more so back then; however, when he did choose to end it. I felt relief! Profound relief... Then I felt guilt over that relief, felt that I was a terrible wretch of a person for having felt that. That I was evil, for feeling such an unforgivable thing at that moment. To this day I don't think I've ever seen anything discuss, or even accept the existence of this emotional response. The closest thing being the platitude "we all grieve in our own way", though that(almost purposefully) omits the presence of appreciating the death. Of seeing death not as a cruel specter come to rip away who we hold dear, but as a kind hero come to bring them back to comfort, to deliver them from their suffering.
i also relate to this. being undiagnosed autistic as a child made life feel so much harder than it should be. even as a preteen i was able to recognize the struggles i went through weren't normal, what was an inconvenience to my peers was an outright tragedy to me. my parents kept denying that anything was wrong though, their thought was that children are just naturally dramatic like I was. Unfortunately, they were wrong. I struggled through suicidality, and it got to a point that I had put together a plan. I'd take a gas can out from the shed, drive my pickup to a gravel clearing in a field and at 3:30am, spread the contents of the can throughout the interior of the truck. then at 3:33am, i'd strike a match. the day after i'd made that plan - four days before i was going to put it into action - i got a message from my friend who gave me contact information for a doctor who would be willing to prescribe hormone replacement therapy. so i delayed my plan indefinitely, leaving it on my mind just in case transition didn't work. and thank the lords it did. i came so close to enacting my own death that i consider the days i live from then on to be "bonus time," treating every week like it might be my last and trying my best to improve myself and the world around me in all the ways i possibly can. often, it's just as simple as being a friend or a partner, but sometimes i have the opportunity to do something bigger and i try to take those opportunities. people only live once, but i feel like i got to live twice.
I grew up in an evangelical christian cult, so suffice it to say, I struggled with the concept of death for a looooooong time. Caitlin's videos were key in helping me overcome that struggle. I've read Smoke Gets in Your Eyes multiple times, and From Here to Eternity should be required reading. Bless you both for the collaboration I've been waiting for.
It took a very traumatic experience in seeing a close friend die suddenly in front of me - literally in my arms - for me to really confront death and my own mortality. I've struggled with mental health issues since I was very young. I used to want to die. After his death, I desperately wanted to live. Now, I am simply being. The concept of rotting and decomposing is no longer something that makes me uncomfortable or afraid... for myself. It isn't death that concerns me, but rather the absence of life in the people around me. The hardest lesson I took from my friend's death was that it isn't the person themself you are grieving for - but for your own life continuing without them in it.
Idk when someone dies young or their life is cut short by something I more mourn the time they won't get to spend that it feels like they should've had
I carry my dead with me. In my head. When I die, I hope few people will carry me. Between not wanting to hurt people, and people usually hurting me, I'm just not deeply attached.
@@superdrwholock I have also experienced this feeling many times (friend was only 28, I'm older than him now and that never fails to hurt) but even that notion is attached a bit to your relationship with them and being a part of the life they could have had, if that makes sense?
@@WatashiMachineFullCycle Yeah, for me it's usually a mix of being sad for them and sad for me but it seems to hurt even more when they are younger and leans more to the sad for their lost time side of it. With my grandad, he'd got to live his life fully so I felt more sad I didn't get to spend time with him anymore, but with younger people I've lost I feel sad and angry that their life was cut short
My brother died 3 months ago today. But he also died yesterday. And every day since that humid day in May. Thank you so much for this video, and for you. Making sure I, a middle aged American male, can keep learning to deal with my emotions and handle them in a healthy way.
My dad passed away a few weeks ago, not unexpectedly. He was at home when he passed and I held his hand as he took his last breath. I had been home to see my dad about two weeks before, when he was still awake and talkative. It was a pretty normal interaction - my dad was someone who said I love you often and I never left the house without a hug and a kiss, even when he was bedridden. So when my mom called to say he was in a semi-coma, couldn’t talk, and would likely pass soon, I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to be there for that experience given how nice our “final” interaction had been. Everyone told me “it’s ok if you aren’t here, no one will blame you. Dad knows you live far away, he knows you love him. He isn’t talking anyways.” But a few days before he died (and a few days of absolute agony and indecision) I got a sudden urge to just go. I live 6 hours away, and my partner and I dropped everything one random Tuesday afternoon to book it back to my hometown. To this day I don’t actually know what I was scared of. Was it seeing him dying? Was it seeing how my mom would react? All I know is when I got home he was just…incredibly peaceful. He looked like he was sleeping. When he heard my voice he raised his hand to mine, and a few hours later he was gone. There wasn’t like, a super loud gasp or anything. Honestly, it was so fucking mundane. I know not everyone dies the way my dad did. At home, surrounded by family, warm, comfortable, not-dramatically, etc. But having seen someone I love go so bravely into whatever the heck is waiting for us on the other side (if anything) was sorta, reassuring? Like anything I did with my dad (water slides, roller coasters, riding a bike) - he always went first to show me it wasn’t scary. I hope I won’t have my turn for a long time, but knowing I’m destined to follow in the footsteps of so many people who are important to me makes it more bearable. Like father like daughter I guess 😭 I can’t really articulate further on this besides knowing I’m going to die makes me feel more connected to my loved ones and the “earth” more broadly??? Idk it’s weird. This video came at just the right time for me. Thank you
As a hospice nurse, I'm so glad you made this video. In my personal experience, I've noticed that people (at least in the US) are terrified of discussing or thinking about death and we really should discuss it more often. Whenever I tell others what I do, they get quiet and say "Oh that's terrible.." When I explain that hospice is a great thing and that I get to support families and relieve suffering, they still view it as a negative because it involves death. Even my friends who work in other fields of nursing say that they could never do it. Interestingly enough, the people most open to discussing it are people who have loved ones with a terminal illness, but because it's so demonized in the culture, when they get the news they have no way of coping and need a lot of support and education. The point about people with cancer being told to get treatment no matter what is very real. I worked oncology before hospice and people were pushing through treatments and surgeries that gave them horrible quality of life because oncologists never really give the option of forgoing treatment and will try to convince people who decline it. I think it comes from a good place, wanting to treat people and give them more years on their life, but what's the point of another 2 years if it's spent vomiting and being too fatigued to do anything because of the side effects of treatment? It's a huge gap in healthcare where patients truely need to be informed about what the consequences of their choices are because most doctors will always want to treat their patients rather than let them die without it. Also the perception of a Do Not Resuscitate (DNR) being equated with 'giving up' is very terrible as well. The first time I did CPR was on a 97 y/o patient. I was first on the scene and so I had the privilege of breaking every bone in his chest while doing compressions. We got him back after 10 minutes of CPR, he was gasping in agony, his eyes glossy and vacant, writhing around in pain. They took him to the ICU and he lost his pulse on the elevator and they never got him back. Even if he survived, he would have been in severe pain and likely in the ICU for months. He should have had a DNR but the family felt like that would be giving up, so we had to revive him for a few minutes just to suffer. I highly recommend the book Being Mortal by Atul Gawande. It's my favorite book discussing the realities of the way we treat elderly people and death in the US and it's the book that made me start working in hospice care and being more comfortable with talking about death.
Very true. My grandma recently passed, we visited her over the course of a couple weeks where they were trying to treat multiple injuries and sicknesses she was failing to recover from. She had no appetite, the treatments caused her pain, and she only wanted to go home. But none of us dared to say out loud, "Look, she's not recovering from this. Let's just let her be comfortable in her own bed." There was a thick blanket of denial around us that frustrated me, and yet I participated in it. I'd imagine it made my grandma feel lonely despite being surrounded by family because it was as though we were ignoring her; ignoring what she was going through, and failed to connect with her in her most vulnerable state.
Isn't this a bit absurd with the levels of religiosity present in the USA? Shouldn't all these evangelicals, mormons etc all feell quite confident with death and the afterlife that supposedly expects them and their loved ones?
@@petrairene I find many of them do, at least within my experience. It tends to be the process of dying rather than death itself which brings many to thought.
When my grandfather was dying we gave him hospice, and it was the best possible option for him and us. It gave us all a chance to see him, for him to be comfortable, for us to say goodbye in a familiar place, etc. Yeah, it was rough because just him being in hospice meant he was going to die, but I think the fact that we got that time to process it and see him one last time did help.
It seems a bit weird but Avatar’s ideas that “all energy is borrowed and eventually it must be returned” is my favourite way to look upon my own death. Life is only temporary, the void of non-existence that predates life and resumes after seemed pretty good to me. The only thing I fear is what will happen to those I leave behind, I hope their lives will be okay.
I am afraid of death. Of seeing others die. Of dying myself. It keeps me up at night, sometimes. At other times, it makes me weep. The thought of someone I love no longer being 'there' is a special kind of hell. But at least I am alive. The here and now is a gift that so many others were and *are* being denied, and I am grateful for it.
There are innumerable reports of evidence for a non-physical, material, psychic/emotional afterlife. Religious dogma has little to no factual knowledge about it, but is stuck in ignorance and dire superstition. Nihilistic physical materialism is even *more* stuck in ignorance, superstition and delusion. Religious and other belief still shapes the matter of the world the afterlife belongs to, and thus forms regions of collective belief, locally seemingly true, but globally false. It seems this is the case because this psychic matter is made of the same stuff as desires and emotions, and is thus much more easily shaped by consciousness than physical matter is. There is much evidence that all the localities of the afterlife still takes place within our planet Earth, or its atmosphere, just in a more subtle kind of matter, and extending into yet another spatial dimension, which is not time. There is also evidence that most of us visit this psychic afterlife world in our emotional body during deep sleep, but that we can only remember it in the physical waking state, provided we can reexperience it once again in our physical body during REM sleep, and preferrably in a relaxed body and calm brain, otherwise the emotional impressions will not be registered strongly enough, for clear remembrance. Also there are people with psychic sensitivity, who partly experience the phenomena of this emotional world during physical awakeness. In any case, there is no real reason to fear death, except the physical pain of dying, the emotional regret of unfinished business, and the general ignorance about the largely unknown. Still being so afraid of death, after having researched this yourself for some time rather than credulously believing me or any other particular individual (or even worse our so called authorities) is likely due to trauma and/or indoctrination. This can be healed through inner work. It is most likely not easy, but still worthwhile.
I struggled with this a lot during COVID. Ironically I found comfort in binging ask a mortician. Caitlyn helped me to come to terms with death as a part of life and nature. It's still scary and horrid when people die, and when we fall ill of course, but it helped me manage the everyday anxiety a bit better.
I'm afraid, too. Would it help to hear the story of the time my grandfather died and came back, and what his experience was? It wasn't bad, in the least. My best friend, who passed away several years ago, had a similar experience.
Like keeping the last voicemail from my mother where she's asking me to be nicer to a sibling I'd had a large falling out with. 'I'm sick of hearing about it,' was how she ended that message I think about that a lot
We here in the US were constantly told invading Iraq was needed because of 9/11. Then Bush said we had "a noble purpose" by going there. When asked many times by Cindy Sheehan, the grieving mother of fallen soldier Casey Sheehan, what exactly that noble purpose was, Bush ran away and refused to ever elaborate on this so-called noble purpose.
@@caibra88 and I'm pretty sure it is much worse than just "stale" for everyone who was directly affected by the Iraq war. Especially those who still suffer its consequences on the daily.
@@caibra88maybe for you, I was learning to walk in another country when this was going on. Still, the point rings true. Every drop of blood spilled by an American or British soldier in my lifetime has been wasted, because we should've never been in those wars to begin with. but the factories must never go quiet.
@@grouchypotatowolfpack5580the only war we had a reason to be in was WW2(all hands on deck were needed to stop Hitler) every war onwards was just some bullshit guise to spread democracy
My mom passed away when I was thirteen years old. She had been diagnosed with leukemia when I was six or so, and underwent years of chemo, hospital time, doctor visits, huge amounts of medication, and a bone marrow transplant- but thanks to all those things, I got more time with her, of better quality, than I might otherwise have had. Roughly a year before she died, I had my first suicide attempt. I didn't understand it at the time, but anxiety, depression, and dysphoria were already taking a toll on me, and I struggled not to feel like I was a burden to everyone around me, especially my mom. I still remember the last time I saw her before she died. She was in the ICU, nearly delirious, and I told her I was afraid to go to a high school where my best friend wouldn't be going. I'm not certain how much of what I said she understood, but she told me that I could do anything I want with my life, be anyone I wanted to be. Some part of me likes to think that she knew, on some level, that I would transition someday. I still regret not having been able to tell her, to let her know she was saying goodbye to a daughter, not a son. I still remember the last time I saw her, in the funeral home. I couldn't cry, and hated that I couldn't cry, because I was still so shocked. The most influential person in my life was gone, and I'd never see her again. As soon as I turned eighteen, I signed up to be a bone marrow donor, and a couple years later I was picked to donate. (It's not as bad as you think- the old method of drilling into your hip to extract marrow is very rarely used nowadays, and you're far more likely to spend six hours sitting attached to a plasmapheresis machine while suffering from very minor flu symptoms.) The recipient didn't make it more than a year after, but I suppose that (and spreading info about bone marrow donation) was a hero moment of sorts for me. Its been over twenty years since my mom passed. I've tracked milestones in my life since then- the ten year, the fifteen year, the year I was twice as old as I'd been when she died, the year I'd officially spent more of my life without her than with her- and now I'm a year older than she was when she died. It's... painful. Sure, I don't think about it all the time, but my grief is always there with me, a part of me just as much as she is. I miss her so, so dearly, and she still shows up in my dreams, as if she'd just been away and finally came back home. Death is a constant companion. I just hope that when it's my turn to go, I will have left as big an impact on the people I love as she left on me.
My late boomer of a father once said - regarding transgender people - that good parents don't have sons or daughters, they have children. Whether she knew she was saying goodbye to a son or a daughter, she knew it was her child. And I take it take it that wouldn't have changed either way. I'm sorry for your loss. My best friend died of leukemia when I was a teenager, and it was terrible to watch him go. Can't imagine what it must've been like for a young child to see their parent go through the same thing. But you're still here, and so am I. And I'm sure your mother would be just as happy to know you still live on as my father would be to know I do, no matter how we live, as long as we're comfortable with the life we lead.
@Emmavoid, thank you for sharing your experience so candidly ❤ Saying final goodbye to a parent is something I haven't yet had to face, but am definitely mindful of esp. as our family currently grapples with a parent's early onset dementia and possible death of personality prior to that of the body. Thinking of your having had to say a long & difficult goodbye to your mum at such a young age is truly heartwrenching. I'm so glad that you are still here, & that her memory lives on in you and has inspired you to help other people in such a significant way. Thank you 🫂
Seems apt to mention, my brother was a huge fan of yours, he got me watching your videos several years ago. Every time you'd upload we would text eachother and say "did you see philosophy tubes new video yet?" He died 2 years ago and I had to learn a lot about the laws of death really quickly. He really would have loved this one
My grandma died recently. She was diagnosed with late stage pancreatic cancer, increasingly suffered for a short few weeks and finally was released from her struggle as she passed at 87 years of age. She was a very religious catholic, and when she learned that she was likely going to die fairly soon, what shook me was how completely composed she remained, how she had made peace with it, how she had planned for almost every little detail surrounding her death: Her funeral, the design of her sympathy cards, which priest should lead her funeral service. It was as if she looked the grim reaper in the eye and said "Ready if you are. I've lived a full life - I cannot ask for more." She refused treatment for her cancer, instead choosing to make the remainder of her time as painless and pleasant as the cancer would let her. She gave me the task of taking care of her digital remains. I'm not a religious person at all, but I think if her faith could let her face her own death like that, then it has served a very important purpose for her.
The older one gets, the more one comes to term with one's death. Usually. Not everyone, of course. ... I recently realized the obvious: I've got about 20-25 years left? ...So I am thinking about what I want to get done before I go.
In Dr. Fatima’s video on colonialism in astronomy, she talks about how the first step to solving institutional colonialism is that people have to feel sad about it - her conversation about grieving colonialism seems like a good companion piece to the discussion of affect regarding what we are allowed to feel grief about.
Interesting. Yes, I think that would apply to anything. If we want others to stop doing X (eating meat, fracking, praying to God, whatever) then it's more effective to target their emotions with our rhetoric and artistry that target their reason eith our arguments. Propaganda is more powerful than philosophy in changing behaviour.
I feel this, especially as a Brit. We were, for a little while, the greatest country on earth by most metrics you can think of. Twice the average wealth of the next richest country, enough ships to fight off the next 2 biggest navies at once, and territorial conquests spanning a third of the world. I'm proud of that, and I don't think it's wrong to be proud of that, but it came at a terrible price to more than a third of the world. The list of countries we haven't invaded is much shorter than the list of countries we have, and most of those countries didn't exist at the time. We must do better, and we could even do better within the confines of neoliberalism if we came back to the countries we ruined with an honest, remorseful deal which is mutually beneficial. A loss for us would be better, but that will never fly in politics or business.
I always appreciate when a content creator takes the time to hide jokes/gags in the captions. Really helps me, as someone who occasionally has difficulty quickly processing audio, feel as though the videos were made with me (and others like me) in mind. Fantastic work, as always :)
Hey, Brazilian viewer here. I usually refrain from commenting 'cause of the language barrier, but today's video really resonated with the moment I'm currently living in. Although I'm just a voice in the crowd this may be something of a reassuring perspective for someone or even an insight that I need to put it out for myself. I'm a 27 year old transmasc man who had his mastectomy in January and before I could've even finished paying for the procedure I've found myself grieving the deaths of both my blood family and my real family having also lost childhood models and children whose lives were just beginning. I soon tried to find meaning in life beyond social struggles and economic survivability, but that just wasn't enough. Not one month passed since my losses and my partner found Caitlin's book and gave it to me as a valentine's present. Smoke gets in your eye helped me process grief with the insightful perspective that I'm not supposed to know how to deal with loss in the first place, none of us are. So thank you to all the crew involved in bringing this work to the masses on this platform. The journey I'm in to comprehend my past losses and beloved friends and family inevitable death has always been more difficult to me than the notion of my own demise, especially since I've identified as transgender. And so, I'd like to thank you all again for this video. Towards the end Abigail says it is a misunderstanding to try to bring intellectual closure to death, but seeing the way she manages to be real about her own awkwardness towards the topics complex and intricate unique traits reaches out and makes me feel less alone.
My mom had a green burial, and I remember a butterfly landing on her shrouded body before fluttering away. It was one of the most beautiful and somber experiences of my life. Death is so... Weird. And yet so amazing.
😅 50%? Try 15% and go stone faced, micro cry, stone faced, chuckle, question source material, stone faced, stone faced, micro cry, stone faced, sob, sob, sob. 🖤
The "portraying people as dead already" part of the bit on how people are made ungrievable hit a bit close to home. I remember hearing about several high-profile cases when I was younger of parents who killed their disabled children (either just the kid or in a murder-suicide) and there was always someone on those news segments defending the parents as being merciful. That child could never live a "normal" life, after all, and their parents had suffered from having to care for them. Never mind any discussion of why those parents had no additional support, or whether things could be done to improve quality of life, even if it means giving up on expecting the child to live a "normal" life. That child was disabled and a burden and could not be "fixed" and, thus, their life wasn't really theirs because they weren't *really* alive. Not like a normal kid would be. (read the last few sentences with heavy, bitter sarcasm). I have dual ADHD and autism diagnoses myself, but while I do need some help (like I probably shouldn't live alone and I avoid driving if possible) I'm able to hold down a job and I graduated university and I'm in a stable, long-term romantic relationship. I realize that makes me lucky, because I at least can speak up for myself in a way people will listen to (well, at least sometimes). That said, it doesn't do great things to your sense of self to realize as a teenager that a bunch of otherwise seemingly nice people seem to believe, at least on some level, that you are acceptable and deserve to be alive only because you are useful. I truly felt like I had to justify my own existence by being *of use* to someone/society when I was younger, even when trying to do that landed me in unsafe or unhealthy or unsustainable work/school/romantic situations. At times, I struggled with SI or felt guilty about having been born and all the ways I inconvenienced or stressed out or annoyed people around me. I've worked through that for the most part (ended up picking up some chronic health problems that forced me to have to slow down and put my wellbeing first), but it's still there in the back of my mind. It might always be.
Oh man. I feel this deeply. Realizing and internalizing that both our society and many of the individuals within it believe that the world would be somehow better if you weren't in it is a profoundly awful experience, and one I've struggled with increasingly as my body's limitations have grown tighter. I have to actively remind myself that I deserve to live, that I am not merely a burden on the people around me. I'm very grateful to be surrounded by people who agree.
Yes. This. I have felt this for most of my life. And you know what? Existing is its own permission. I don't always feel that myself, but I know in my heart that it's true. Life, uh, finds a way, and the fact you exist means that you get to. Same for me. Same for all of us.
Sometime in April, after the Israeli government allegedly assassinated the Iranian president for no good reason whatsoever, the Iranians proclaimed that there would be an attack as retaliation. Being Israeli, I have been through several wars in my life, and I'm fairly well-accustomed to hearing an alarm and going to the shelter in the basement or the nearest stairwell. But this was different. Hamas' missiles are infamous for being pretty bad, they're small and often don't have any explosive charge in them. Iranian missiles are, by comparison, a lot scarier. They are ten times as large, terrifyingly accurate, and have explosive charges. My girlfriend and I got to her apartment just as an announcement came out that ballistic missiles were launched, and were due to land in Israel in the coming hour. We tried to prepare, of course. We filled water bottles and packed preserved food and other necessities in case we needed to stay in the shelter for an extended period of time. But that was all we could do. And in the face of this threat, I thought that this might be it. At any moment, we could be hit by a missile, and just vaporised. We could go to sleep and just never wake up again. I thought about my life, what I had done, and tried to evaluate it. Was I happy? I was, but not because I had accomplished anything particularly noteworthy, but simply because I was happy with it in the first place. And I think that is what solidified for me the idea that the best philosophical account of death is the Wittgensteinian one - trying to describe death is trying to understand what cannot be understood. In death, we are not. There is, in effect, only life, and therefore, we live forever. In the end, there is no accomplishment of some great project - just the life of an immortal, coming to a sudden halt. You cannot be content with death - only with life. The more terrifying thing for me, when thinking about the coming Iranian attack, is not the thought of my death, but the thought that someone wants me dead. Not the Iranians. They are distant, compelled to react to our provocations. No, I think about my own government. I think about the deep nihilstic cynicism of Bibi, about the sadistic, semi-sexual glee of Ben Gvir. For them, our deaths - the deaths of the Israeli hostages, the deaths of however many tens of thousands of Palestinians already died, the deaths of soldiers, the deaths of Israeli citizens, the death of Israel itself, my death - are a worthy cause, or not even worth consideration, or martyrdom, or something to rejoice. I'm not afraid of death. What I fear is the feeling of living in a country which craves death.
@@grmpEqweer I just checked, and yeah, apparently Israel has never claimed responsibility for Raisi's death. I didn't actually know that. I was just taken that evening by the news, and didn't actually check back on it. I should thus add an "allegedly" in my text, since might actually not be our fault this one time. However, I should point out that Israel does have a policy of assassinating the military commanders of terror organisations like Hamas, which does absolutely no good most of the time, because the organisation just switches them for another one, and that recently we did kill Fuad Shuker (not sure that's how you write his name) of Hazbulla, and allegedly Ismail Hanya of Hamas (and I say allegedly, but I mean, he died of an explosive charged which was planted in his hotel room, and was on Israel's hit list for years. If Israel didn't kill him, someone sure did). All that while we are on the cusp of finally agreeing on a deal to free the hostages. Instead we do these provocations now, and rather than come to a potential ceasefire, we risk escalating into war with Iran. Basically what I'm saying is this - even if Israel didn't kill the Iranian president, the government certainty isn't doing its' best to contain the conflict and de-escalate, because fundamentally, the purpose of this whole thing is to keep Bibi in power, and so long as there's a war, nothing can move him from his chair. He doesn't want the hostages back and doesn't want a ceasefire, and his crazy facist friends actively want them to not be back and want the war to go on. And in that sense, they want our deaths.
I feel like the fear of death for me was more prominent on oct 7th, as suddenly nowhere felt safe. If up until then I felt that we have safe rooms or safe locations to go to hide from bombs, those places became death traps in case of invasion, where you could die from smoke inhalation inside or guns and brute force outside. And death could come at any moment, at home, while asleep, while dancing in a nature party. A lot more present than it ever felt before... A real existantial crisis
The death-cult of fascism cannot be satiated, there is no light at the end of the tunnel for your country. Even if it wins every battle - no, especially if it wins every battle - it will continue down this terrible path of death-worship. What does it take to survive such a society? If you can start a new life in a different country, that is the only way you'll escape this madness. I wish you the best of luck.
It's one thing for Netanyahu and Ben Gvir to want to build themselves an un-contestable throne, but when they construct that throne from the bones of their own countrymen, and countless civilians who never asked to be born into this conflict, it really does call the humanity of these people into question. As ever, old men with nothing to offer the world, send young men and women, an entire generation with their whole lives ahead of them, to fight on their behalf. At least in the past, leaders would at least "glam up" their beliefs with talk of "honour" and "defending your motherland". But now? It's curt, and to the point. We are meat for the grinder, nothing more, and nothing less.
Oh, wow. This the first time I've been recommended your channel, and this video is blowing my mind. As someone who works in death care, you've given me so much to think about, and so many things to read. Thank you for your work
I love how these videos are almost NEVER (only) about what's in the title, and I NEVER know where you're going to go next... was not expecting that beautiful eulogy at the end, and it was truly beautiful.
I want to add that Princess Diana was a huge LGBT+ icon because she shook hands with AIDS patients at a time when people where not touching them out of fear it would spread to them and she was one of the first to show that it wouldn’t spread via touch and greatly humanized AIDS patients to an uncaring world.
She was one of the first famous person to do it! Doctors, nurses, lovers, friends and some family members did it long before her... But it was meaningful zhat she did it!
Not the same person but despite my mum initially going through a terf phase and making life hell when I wanted to start transitioning (she's better now but took nearly 3 years for her to stop saying it was a phase); it was very based of her to hug one of her friends who was dying of aids at a party when everyone else was avoiding him and being a cunt to him, bad enough dealing with illness that painful without other people hurting you and telling you that you brought it on yourself too
diana got into a car with a drunk driver who sped down the incredibly narrow steets of old Paris so fast that the car left the pavement it is an absolute miracle that they struck a support beam and not a pedestrian or another car anyone else who had done the same thing would not have been mourned except by close family
@@ItWasSaucerShaped lol and she wasn't drunk, may have not known he was, and was being relentlessly chased by British and other paparazzi who would NOT stop hunting her down... What precisely in the seconds she had to decide should she have done oh wise and infinitely capable one?
About grief, ive met people who seem to think once the funeral is over, you shouldnt grieve anymore. And if you do, you should stay quiet about it. My dad passed away two years ago, and mum grieves him deeply. Her Friends and colleagues have said horrible things to her like ”you should find a new husband” (less than half a year after his passing), ”you should be over it by now” (one year after his death), ”stop thinking about him”, and my absolute favorite terrible thing to say to a widow: ”arent you having the best time of your life right now?”
Ugh. I wish people would just let other people grieve however they need to. If it takes 10, 20 years, then so be it. Everyone handles loss differently. I wish for you and your mum to receive the grace you need to get to a point where y'all feel okay. I won't say it gets better with time because that doesn't always happen, but hopefully the grief morphs into something more tolerable.
In some respects I feel a bit sad for the people saying those things that they've never truly loved or connected with someone to the degree that the loss of them is the loss of part of yourself.
This came out at the perfect time, 1 month ago a dear friend committed suicide, or so I thought, for the last month or so I've been really sad, and then the day this came out, I got a text outta the blue, from my friend who had just gotten out of the hospital apparently. They're feeling way better now, and got the help they needed
my mom died of lung cancer. the doctors made us feel like she was going to be fine - up til the 3 days before she died. but they sure charged her for "life saving" treament, except for the stuff her insurance would not cover thatcould have actually helped her. fuck america
We had a very different experience, in Canada. Just to be upfront, we do have our own problems, and I will never say we don't. But, our experience with my step-dad dying with cancer was VERY different. Once we knew the treatments had failed, and his quality of life was decreasing, week-by-week, we were put into contact with a small team of hospice nurses and carers who would keep his doctors updated. We could call them, 24/7, with any issues or questions, whatsoever. For example, we had an issue with his tubing, so they came out the next morning to give us another demonstration of how it worked, how and when to change it, and how to fix any issues with it. They were very upfront to him, while he was lucid, and to us, that he was not going to pull through. That was not the point of this exercise. It was to weigh his lucidity and comfort, on his journey to death. When one of us couldn't be at home with him, we had carers that would come in, just to make sure he was being supervised by someone. We tried not to need them, but life happens, sometimes. But, they were available, every time they were necessary. None of this was out of pocket. We had everything provided for us. It was my mom's choice to become his primary carer, though. She was able to take around 3-4 months off, in order to be by his side, for the worst of it. The grief is bad enough. I can't even imagine how horrific it would be to have to pay for doctors, treatments, devices, carers, and then have the loved one pass on, anyway. Especially if they were misleading us, the whole time. I'm so, so sorry. That is absolutely awful. We had around 3 years of informed consent, knowing that there was a decent chance that the treatments would fail, and then around 5-6 months of hospice care, during which we understood the inevitable conclusion. I am so thankful for our hospice team. That might sound silly, but their honesty and compassion are unmatched, in healthcare.
My mom too. She died on christmas night, all of the staff circled us in such a hurry, wanting to get home to their families, forgetting that my whole family was dying in their very hands, that while their families would be there tomorrow, mine wouldnt, paying no heed to her comfort or her last desires, acting as though she were an inconvenience. She was an object to them. An obstacle. So was I, maybe less even, more like just a piece of furniture in the room.
My Mom died in 2009 July 12th i will forever remember this day, she was die from Cancer (Glioblastoma) at her age of 59. My Father died at his 46 in 1995 (brain aneurysm ) and he was been hemiplegic almost 3 years laying in bed and sometimes he gain consciousness and recognize people sometimes act as a baby . Life is hard but you need to enjoy how much is possible and in the way you like it. I will remember my parents until my death, i have 52 (in december) and i hope i will live longer like my Granma (Fathesrs mother) which is still alive and soon she will have 97 years. I want to experience some things i wasnt experience and i want to travel around a world, that is my greatest wish, if i succeed to accomplish this it will be great if not it is not tragedy . At least i still breath, enjoying sunrise and sunset, eating what i love and other "small" things. I try to be kind to most of the people if they arent asshole, then i ignore them. I wasnt think to kill myself in any point of my life but i was wish that i wasnt born in country i was born, but that i cannnot choose so easiest for me is to accept what i got. BTW i have a lot of health issues, i almost die once in hospital because of broken oxygen which cause small rupture in my lungs but how i like to quote "What does not kill you, made you stronger" but also "Per aspera ad astra". Loves you all. Igor
@@wvnne9012 I'm so profoundly sorry U went through this. It's infuriating just how the way things work in Healthcare numbs ppl to the point of apathy. Something is severely wrong with the system if that's whta it takes for ppl to navigate it.
@@wvnne9012knowing that doesn't make it better tho of course and it's just frustrating and saddening to see the way docs and nurses treat other human beings
I almost didn't watch this video. I'd had it open on Nebula for a little while, and I thought about closing it today without watching it. It's a Sunday. On Friday, it was my grandmother's funeral. She was the last grandparent I had left. She had had dementia and cancer and was suffering and she died in July. So the idea of watching a video about death when I had just become acquainted with it and the pain it leaves behind was... unwelcome, in my mind. But I did watch the video, and I'm glad I did. And I'm glad you made it. Thank you.
Me clicking the link to this video: Oh hell yeah, not a collab I expected, but Caitlin Doughty sets such an accessible tone for discussing death. Anyway, the last 20 minutes or so had me crying.
I was born and grew up in "black decade" Algeria. Thousands of people died and were only mentioned in quick sentences at the end of the news if ever. We were not grieved. I now live in France where, talking about the terrorist threat, I was told that my people and country were used to it which made terrorist attacks in France more impactful.
"I'm just pork with delusions of grandeur" "I don't think I'm going to be needing one anytime soon because I'm pretty healthy and I don't know anything about Boeing." "If you're dead, leave a comment. Subscribe and click the bell, ask not for whom it tolls!" "I'm still gonna be making money from the grave, talk about working remotely." "I'm always trying to find an heir. I'm like Henry VIII."
@@nikitalopintsev7178 Two Boeing whistleblowers died unexpectedly, and its basically accepted nowadays (at least on the internet) that Boeing probably murdered them.
@@nikitalopintsev7178a whistleblower who revealed a lot of Boeings faults, supposedly committed suicide before he could reveal more. A lot of people think that Boeing was responsible for his death, or that they just assassinated him
Watching this as a disabled person who's been eating up disab studies for more than a decade I didn't learn anything about the topic at hand but it did help me so much in not feeling insane and alone so THAT is a huge win lmao. Thank you so much for your work as always, it really helps nurturing hope.
"Have you ever eaten the flesh of your enemies?" Such a good performance! Didn't have a clue you were in it and you delivered her chaotic nature soooo well! 🥰🥰
I didn’t even realize it was her until halfway though the scene when I remembered she mentioned she was gonna be in HotD. Then I realized a MtF actor is playing a FtM character and I just had an absolute blast lolol
Haha I didn’t even know she was in it and thought huh crazy she looks like her, sounds like her, then did some digging and was glad my mind didn’t play tricks on me 😂
as someone with OCD, i literally did most of my processing on death at age 7 and earlier because i was obsessed with how terrifying it was. i did have to do some more processing on it in 2020, and then again after the barbie movie (listen it had a strong effect on me), but generally i've long had the idea that life is just about trying to be happy and trying to make others happy, while you can. honestly i wish more people were allowed to confront death younger. sure, it was scary for me, but i can't imagine how much scarier it is to have your whole world collapse at 40 or later because you never really examined your own mortality before.
Thanks for this... my OCD decided to latch onto it recently so I'm still fighting it a lil bit (think I got it down?) and yeah this just makes me happy to know I guess.
@@illuminoeye_gaming hey, happy i could help! in my experience, it gets easier every time it comes up. eventually, you will come to a satisfying conclusion, and when new fears about death pop up, they’ll be quicker to be assuaged. a good cry helps a lot when you need it. good luck :) /gen
@@plushdragonteddy yeah, ive basically been commiting my showers the past few days to exposure-therapy-ing myself and trying to just think shit through (not much else to do in there!) and its been helping a ton. i still sometimes get a lil tight in my chest but improvement is improvement regardless! thanks :)
recently learned about OCD in more detail, and a friend of mine who's diagnosed with it has been pressing me to look into it more. death obsessions have been messing me up for the past decade and then some. have mostly found very recently that keeping up with eating and hydrating has done a lot to help with it. friend came to call it 'hanguish.' don't know if it is OCD, and I don't know if the fear will ever go away, but I'm committing to not let it ruin my life anymore. letting myself relax rather than burning up all my energy on getting terrified. been nice to learn this week that I'm not alone. wish you the best, make the most of your life, set goals, track them. goes a long way.
this time last year i wanted to die. it was a constant urge that was exhausting to fight off. i spent the summer writing a play, which i was able to direct a few months later. it went to a fringe festival a few weeks ago. and seeing people in the audience, having the cast and crew in one little hostel room and knowing i had bought them together, hearing my words in the mouth of someone i didn't know six months ago - words that spoke to my grief and my pain - was the most affirming thing in the world. i will die one day, but before then i can create a space that wouldn't exist if i didn't exist, and i give other people memories and experiences that i hope will stay with them
Earlier this week, the owner of the largest furry art gallery suddenly died. Regardless of the cause, and his past ignoring of his own health for the sake of the site, it was death by for-profit healthcare. And regardless of anything else to be said about him, good or bad, he was trending on Twitter. And there was definitely a kind of bitterness to that, because that's a thing he would have bragged about forever, but he didn't get to see it. My most recent, personal, experience with death was the hardest one since losing my grandmother 9 years ago, and it was my dog. He was the one constant through the roughest part of my life, was there for me when I was rebuilding myself, and I wasn't ready for him to go. But, he died while I was holding him, in his favorite place, with his head over my heart. A picture I took of him many years ago, and one I took just before he died are almost exactly the same pose. I had watched a video from another death educator showing what happens when someone is actively dying and it turns out: there's a lot similar in canines. My daughter, 7 years old, was home when it happened, so I kept myself together by helping to keep her calm and explaining, as best as I could remember at that moment anyway. That's what you do with kids, it's not scary, it's all part of living, and it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like hell. I let myself cry once he was gone. Not even losing my dad 8 years ago (almost 9) hit as hard as losing my dog. I'm coming to terms with the silence still, months later.
I hear ya, so very loudy and clearly, regarding the loss of your dog, and I hope that you are able to find (or have found) peace. I had a pair of Labs, they turned 14 last month, got them a year into being employed and housed. And they've gotten me through most of my lowest lows. I had to make the call for one of them a couple weeks ago (he was good until he wasn't essentially and it wasn't going to be quick), and it was devastating. Still is to be honest, not quite at the 'taking comfort' stage admittedly. We weren't sure how the other was going to take it, and I'm not sure to be honest, kinda taking it day by day. It's a weird sort of limbo.
I lost my first dog 2.5yrs ago and it's one of those things that stays with you. She was, and is still, the best part of me. I couldn't take walks, by myself or with others, for months. Didn't want to leave the house, and when I did, I didn't want to go home to the kick to the gut of knowing she wouldn't be there. It was like someone cut my foot off and I had to learn to walk again on a bleeding stump. In the weeks after her passing I was scrolling through different YT vids from people talking about pet grief, and while there were so many comforting and helpful nuggets I found, my two favorites went along the lines of, "[when I lose a dog], I give myself at least a month to grieve, to feel that loss fully, to cycle through the emotions and tears and let them have their time and space. Do not shove them down and do not let anyone tell you 'its just a dog'. They aren't you, and it wasn't their dog." And (a more spiritual interpretation)... "That emptiness you feel after loss, it's a piece of your energy taken for them so you could be there to greet them on the other side."
i started working at a nursing home as a receptionist back in the summer of 2021, so we were still under a lot of covid precautions and everyone was extremely afraid. it was around october-ish that i actually started working with the residents themselves, and started to get to know them. you meet these wonderful people, who are old and oftentimes disabled in one way or another, and you learn about the lives they've led, the people they love and miss and grieve because they aren't here anymore. and you trick yourself into thinking they will be there always, but they won't a lot of the people i've joked with, laughed with or even just saw in the hallways aren't there anymore. they died because of covid or other complications or because it was "just their time". i still mourn them nearly every single day that im there and sometimes when im at home and thinking fondly of them. anytime i see someone wearing colorful nail polish, i think of the tiny little woman whose nails i painted and who loved to watch the birds. i think of the man who didnt celebrate holidays anymore since his wife passed away. i think of a woman with dementia who didnt really seem to know anyone or anything that was going on around her, but she would sit on various couches like she was a queen and one day, she decided to sit near me while i was calling bingo numbers, though she never spoke but the thought of death doesn't really overwhelm me as much as it used to before i started working at this job. neither does old age. i still periodically have moments of "oh my gods, theyre gone and i can never speak to them again" which is really upsetting, but i think thats just part of life. you learn very quickly to appreciate what you get, whether it be a good mood or a good day, or someone's pain easing for just a little bit. you learn to let yourself live with the fact that these people you care for will not be here someday, but you dont let it make you cruel or unkind or any less generous with your time and effort because they're still here, they're still alive. i visited that woman with the nails nearly every single day until she passed and even though she was weak and oftentimes asleep, she would give me a big grin and say how happy she was to see me. another man, who loved history, passed away earlier this year and i hadnt been able to see him much before then. he wasn't eating anymore (he had cancer) and told me he didn't want his tray, so i brought him a cup of juice and said "just in case you get thirsty". these people are gone. they aren't coming back. i remember their faces, most of their names and where their rooms were. i speak of them often. someday, i wont be here either, but thats okay. that's how it works, this whole life thing. a boulder slowly becomes a pebble. a tree will fall and provide food and shelter for something else before it returns to the dirt it grew from. i think a lot of the problem with how people view death comes from the belief that, as you said in the video, we think we're special and we're really not. it makes us feel more lonely than we actually are. it's of cold comfort to those who still feel grief freshly and to those who are closest to death, but even stars die and we're made from their ashes. why would it be unnatural for us to also end, if the burning balls of gas in the sky stop too? it doesnt make it hurt any less, but it does make it easier to appreciate what we are given. also, i didnt expect the technoblade mention but im obligated to say it at the end of a very long and semi-pointless youtube comment: blood for the blood god. technoblade never dies :)
TY Abigail for such a wonderful Video. As a Trans Woman across the pond. I lost 2 lovers to AIDS. I also lost 7 people to COVID. Also lost 13 shipmates when we went in to rescue the hostages in Iran. Yes I am old was talking to my Granddaughter last night about protests and told her "Don't look back on your life and have any regrets." This is and has been my Philosophy even though I served in the military and doing things that I've seen and done I don't regret it because it has brought me to where I am today.
Watched it on Nebula and this is my favorite one from you so far! Hits super hard since I lost my aunt to covid recently (please keep masking everyone). Also Foreign KILLED that quote read omg. Loved seeing him here and I love it when you highlight bipoc creators especially! Class solidarity will save us.
I had to come to terms with my own mortality just over six years ago, after a mental health crisis resulted in two tries at, well, I'm sure you probably know where I was going. I've been doing better since, though. And I'm really glad the topic of our own mortality is becoming more mainstream, making candid discussions easier. Very happy to see Abigail and Caitlin did a video together.
I remember speaking to my father once as a child about death, about how unnerving I found it. He told me that it was fine for me to feel some anxiety about death, but that death at the end of a long life was less troublesome. The metaphor he used was that of old video games like Pac-Man, Space Invaders, or Duck Hunt. One did not really "win" these games. As he put it "They just get faster and faster and harder and harder until you die! Just like life!" His point was that, by the time your time is up, life is so hard, that death can be seen as more of a relief than something to dread. I took comfort in that point of view when I was younger, and I take more comfort in it now, as well. We did not always see eye to eye, but there was never any doubt that he cared deeply for all of us in his family. He helped me to see new perspectives that offered me comfort and showed me new ways forward. He offered me love, hope, and dedicated support. He worked extremely hard to give the very best that he could for each of us, and I am certain that I am in as good a place as I am now in part because of his invaluable support. It is my sincere hope that, going forward in my own life, I can exemplify to others the very best of what he represented to me. Speaking of my father also relates to another major issue in this video. Ungrievability. I was using an extreme understatement when I said that he and I did not see eye to eye. Despite how good a father he was to me and to my sibling, he was also racist, misogynist, in favor of war crimes, and eventually a Trumpist, and the world is better off without him. I was a bit surprised to realize that I did not grieve him when he died. I was not sad at all. I wasn't celebrating his death, but neither did it feel as though I had lost anything of value. Perhaps it was the case that I felt that I had already experienced all the good in him that there ever was going to be, that he was already basically dead, having succumbed to the fascist mind-virus years before his eventual demise. I remember thinking of him a bit like a zombie, much as Abigail talked about zombification in this video, that I had lost my father already to fascism, like someone bitten by a zombie. The encephalopathy that finally killed him was just "ticking a box", putting down a dangerous, shambling corpse. I have no plans to visit his grave.
Eventually in those video games, like Pac-Man, Space Invaders, or Duck Hunt; the speed and the difficulty can merely evoke feelings of stress or monotony, rather than challenge. Both in your situation and in a more general sense, we separate from our parents as we grow older. Often we still love them, or harbor some fondness long past, but... have you ever had to move back in with your parents as an adult? Doesn't it feel different? Does being in your childhood home make you feel like a child again? Does talking with them feel more like a "grind" than an experience? Eventually they die. And after so long, maybe there's just the slightest (or not-so-slightest) feeling of relief. Even when you love the game... it's a lot easier to walk away after you've cleared level after level. And if the game has become frustrating... and racist... well, it might as well be over.
this is exactly how i felt about my mom, who went down a similar path of reactivity and ultra conservatism. i watched her wither and waste and twist into something else right before my eyes. i grieved the mother i lost for years before i could move out. when it came down to cutting her off, it was easy. i no longer knew the woman in my mother's body. as far as i'm concerned, my mother died a long, long time ago. i will always miss who she used to be. but i will not subject myself to watching her ruin her life until her body fails too. i hope to keep the memory of who she was alive through my own actions. that is how i love her. i recognize this is not the same as actually losing a parent. and i offer my condolences where appropriate. thank you for creating a space to talk about grieving your fascist/alt right parents ❤️
😂 I’m literally laughing out loud, which almost NEVER HAPPENS! If there were a “thanks” options for comments, I would actually tip you, despite being in severe poverty! I think we might have the exact same dad, so hi, I’m your new half sibling! I spent a lot of my life thinking about what a piece of garbage my father was, then I realized I really didn’t think much about him at all, except what a horrible overall person he is that, ultimately, the world would have less suffering in if he weren’t here, and then my brother, your new half brother, mentioned that’s all true… the only more toxic parent we know is our mother!
On one night in 1997 I died 3 times. They brought me back each time. It changed how I lived. I'd been in the closet for most of my adulthood up to then apart from a brief time at university in 80s when HIV essentially chased me into the wardrobe where I got to know Mt neighbour Mr Tumnus well. Dying and becoming the equivalent of a socially acceptable zombie adjusted my life view and set me on the path to becoming Emma rather than living with the compromise male ish me. Death has defined my life for half of the adult time I've spent here. The relatively short time I have left as a living thing and my legacy has been about adding something to the lives of others especially the oppressed queer communities of the country and the world iin my own small way.
As someone who lives every day with severe mental illness, it's morbidly comforting to know that no matter what, there will be an end someday. It really helps me enjoy the small things in the moment. I'd also like to clarify, I'm not suicidal lol I just find a morbid sense of comfort in the idea of death.
Nothing morbid about that. For death itself (rather than the suffering that sometimes accompanies it) I think the only fear and sadness should be for those still alive, those left behind.
I have lost my father and grandfather this year both intelligent, kind and inspirational men. My father died in April from a liver tumour and abdominal sepsis this left him in a coma for 12 days before he passed away in April. The nurses in ICU gave me the strange privilege of coming in during his last conscious moments to ease his nerves, I had to leave immediately after the propofol (white liquid used in anaesthesia) was given and dad went unconscious and after they intubated him about 10 minutes later we where all allowed in. A lot of times hospital policy/actions got in the way of grief or even the need to grieve in the first place. Simple things like the painkillers he was on dried out his mouth and I know there is a prescription artificial saliva which they refused to prescribe. He grabbed my hand while I was holding his during this time which the nurse said was a reflex, but it gave me some, slightly selfish hope he could hear. Only a month ago I had surgery to move an abscess from my chest, and when they gave me the propofol I could feel dads presence. When I was 18 I had an out of hospital cardiac arrest and dad was a doctor and his action doing chest compressions even after the paramedics arrived for nearly 20 minutes saved my life- I now have and ICD pacemaker. If I did see a light I wont have remembered. What I think is wrong is how the body can technically become property of the coroner (the state), if certain criteria are met. They say they are there representing the deceased but I know for a fact my father did not want an autopsy and you treated like a number in queue, you are made to feel like a burden. My grandfather (who survived the Arkhangelsk gulag) died in his late 90's from pneumonia only a few weeks ago and we are yet to have his funeral, his service will be traditional Russian Orthodox with beautiful chants of biblical verse. May they both rest eternally in the Kingdom of Heaven.
I read this as a father of two kids. The luckiest of us have no idea how we'll go. If I have my last moments on this earth peacefully with my children holding my hand, I'll have been very lucky. Thank you for sharing this.
@@Chipchap-xu6pk That gives me comfort which I need at the moment, so thank you. His death was many things unexpected, devastating, possibly medically preventable, earth-shattering, tear-inducing, but peaceful. I can only hope those 12 days where like a general anaesthetic, with no sense of time passing and painless, and when he could hear or feel me he was in euphoric bliss. I used to say to him have sweet dreams. My grandfather someone who has championed my throughout my life is having his funeral soon and it is all coming back. Children going before their parents is against the natural order.
My dad died 4 years ago. His legacy has lived on. My mum, niece and I live in a large house with a huge garden. It's hard to keep on top of the jobs that the home raises. But one thing you can be sure of, is that in the stuff my dad accumulated over the years is precisely the thing we need. It's bordering on the absurd how much we keep finding exactly the right tool for the job. He is still providing even though he is very much not with us any more. And his voice appears in one of my RU-vid videos, so his digital remains are also present, for now.
My preferred line about death in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead is thankfully a bit lighter: Rosencrantz: We might as well be dead. Do you think death could possibly be a boat? Guildenstern: No, no, no... Death is...not. Death isn't. You take my meaning. Death is the ultimate negative. Not-being. You can't not-be on a boat. Rosencrantz: I've frequently not been on boats. Guildenstern: No, no, no--what you've been is not on boats.
This video tugged at my heart almost as powerfully as your coming out essay (which was so powerful in my own coming out). Thank you again for stirring my emotions
I saw a hospice nurse comment and I am currently an older nursing student who has the main goal of being a hospice nurse and to be in a program from local hospice provider called being a "death doula" and advocate for death with dignity laws in my state. I have autism with a special interest in end of life care. So this video meant a lot to me. Thank you. You always speak on topics that are so close to home for me.
@jeanpaulsinatra no, not a birth doula. A death doula is a hospice care nurse or worker who provides emotional support and specialized attention for the dying patient. Sometimes, people at the end of life can struggle to talk out their thoughts and feelings about their pending death with their loved ones. The extra support and ability to talk openly with a death doula can help them cope and make the most of the time they have left and in my opinion reach that final psychosocial stage "intergrty vs despair" as outlined by Erik Erickson.
@@oryx_85 I was just taking the opportunity to drag birth Douglas for being worthless hippies who don't have the training midwives do and being dangers as a result
@jeanpaulsinatra I'm sorry but you seem to be talking to yourself here and I am wierded out by your reply and do not care at all about what you are talking about related to births as I have no interest at all in birth or labor and delivery and never plan to work as a nurse in that field in any capacity. You are talking about the wrong subject to me, so I am now going to stop replying.
It's almost been a year since my partner and love of my life died in a car crash. I was also in the car, and I came out with only a head wound, a concussion, and the pain of losing him. This video is a little bit of therapy. It touches on things I've only thought about since the crash. Things you don't think about when you haven't experienced trying to decide what happens to your loved one's memory. Things that are greater than us, individually. Other people in other comments have said it better than me. I miss him. Thank you for making this, Abi.
Girl. GUUURL 😭😭 You have got me sobbing at work. I have been following your content for a few years now and I just........I can't even scrape together the right words to describe how fucking talented you are. Every episode of Philosophy Tube has been my favorite and this is my favorite yet. You have a beautiful brain and I am SO GRATEFUL you're here and willing to share it with us all. 🖤🖤🖤🖤 All the love in the world from this internet stranger. Gonna go cry again.
when you talk about people being "ungrievable," I think I can see all 3 methods at use for people who are unhoused-- especially if they use substances. meanwhile, saving lives is simple and in some cases even easy. thanks for this one.
One thing that has always helped me with the concept and concrete truth of past , future, and current death, is that all of the current problems and issues and discomfort and pain that the dying face at the point of their death, become null and void upon the crossing of the event horizon of unlife. To me, that is one of the most reassuring feelings in the world. No matter what happens, once you die, none of it matters anymore. I've been told by certain professionals that resigning oneself to the eventuality of death isn't "healthy", but i gotta say, it has helped me through more situations than any other coping mechanism. i have always loved your videos, both the philosophy and the art. They have done more for aiding my introspection and self reflection than anything else in my life. thank you thank you thank you
My grandma died a few days ago. She passed calling her dad to come pick her, like she was a little girl again. She was a christian, I'm an atheist. I don't believe in the afterlife but I must admit that was an incredible way of leaving this world behind.
this was such a profoundly great episode that helped me understand myself more and how i perceive the world… i grew up really poor with food and housing insecurities. my life growing up has been full of death of family members and family friends. when i was 22, my father passed away. i spent a lot of time processing that, and existentialism has been something that helps me cope with a constant state of knowing my death is inevitable. but in watching your video i realized why i’m so moved emotionally moved when i see human suffering, and so completely confused when others don’t have that same response. thank you 🥰
This was really compelling. I'm very glad that human composting was touched on. I worked in a cemetery for many years that only used pine coffins. It ensured the body rotten back into the earth and all that would be left in a few years were the marker and bones that had drifted. Filling collapsed graves was a constant chore to ensure everything looked perfect aboveground should loved ones ever visit. I feel like the step up from that is the loved ones expecting the body to rot, workers not hiding that fact, and having something more akin to burial gardens created from human compost.
I just like the idea of my remains being recycled to create a tree. Specifically a long lived breed, not in the idea of the transference of the soul but I stand in awe of the long lived trees of the planet and the ages they will see and just want to be a tiny part of that splendor. I have no use for it after I'm gone and it just seems like such an amazing purpose for my remains.
I’ve lost 3 relatives during the last 3 years. When I tell you how much comfort I’ve gotten from the Ask a Mortician channel. Ty for having her on Abigail. She’s just a lovely source of comfort and knowledge. An amazing subject to cover.❤
As someone who helps facilitate the running of a Death Café, please please please look into getting all your wishes and affairs in order even when you are young. You can make a will, but you can also give directions on what sort of care you would want in the event of an accident. It's more than a DNR, and it can be quite complex. And also, yes, what you would want to happen to your physical remains. You can update and change all of these things throughout your life
I'm young, but I have told everyone I don't want a big ceremony, just enough to give everyone their own closure, and no extra money on dressing up the remains or burial. I want to be resuscitated and go through all the options before succumbing because I feel strongly about it. I have very few possessions, but what I do have is left for my brother. I want the cheapest possible process for the remains so as to leave them with less of a burden, and I don't care for funerals or hold respect for them myself, so this is the best option for me. Is there anything else I should look into? Also what is a death cafe? Sounds pretty metal.
@@Alex_Barbosa It's great that you have talked about all of that with your loved ones, and been clear about your wishes. Have you also written all of it down? Sometimes it helps everyone to have that physical medium when they don't quite remember or can't quite agree on what they remember or not. And it makes it easier in medical situations for someone making decisions for you to know that they have physical proof of your wishes. Bravo for doing all of that! If you've never been to a Death Café, I truly recommend it, even if you only go once or twice. They are definitely metal imo. It's kind of like an AA meeting, except it's to talk about death and dying as it's the one thing we will all do at some point, and break the taboo about it. It's not a bereavement group, although you can absolutely find support for that there. And the organisers will probably have a compiled list of useful groups, organisations and people in the area where the café is held. Broadly? Anything concerning death can be talked about there: the law, the costs, about being terminally ill or not, near death experiences, the environment, seeing ghosts, voluntary assisted dying, about the many professions around death (things like a death doula, to hospice doctors/nurses, to funeral officiants, to morticians), the many different ways your remains are disposed of and what are environmental friendly options and are they legal where you live. Death Cafés can be a bit of everything, just all about death.
I want to believe that butterfly necklace in the conclusion is there for a reason. Butterflies and bugs are day to day signs of death. I love that Damien Hirst made them central in one of his series. As their corpses became something beautiful without their active (and lifeful) consent. Thank you for this video, as always
Logically, I can accept death. I can even see the need for it, as a necessary force of change in this world. But. But I cannot accept it at an emotional level. I feel it tugging at me when I think how long it's been since those I loved and still love have passed. Even after a decade. Even after two. And it twists my heart when in the cold and dark at night when it seems all logic flees from me and I, almost against my will, contemplate my own death. Logically, I know I will die and I accept it. Emotionally, I fear it with the entirety of my being.
You could write a will to st least uave some control, to have one thing secure in that insecure helps. Everyone dies, thats human, accepting that there is , that the human body at least dies. And if there is nothing, no one came back from being dead yet provable, we cant know. Well That would just be gone feeling nothing, being nothing, caring about, nothing. Thats death for the dead, not being there. The hard is the loosing that person and living with it.
The terrible loss is the loss of all we loved; our emotions, our impact on others' lives, for some the mere act of being forgotten. Dying itself is easy. You die. Roll credits. It's the emotional journey leading there that drags, and it's inevitable. None of us will live. Maybe we will lead other lives. Maybe not. Maybe we live on in altered form. Maybe not. But we all die and it's so much easier to look at it from afar and fret. In the moment it's different. In the moment we lose all control. I recall the day I learned my best friend died in vivid clarity. I laughed. I thought this had to be a joke. Only learned the next day it was true but couldn't fit it into my concept of life. Same again when a work colleague died. Same sudden jolt, same abrupt oddity. It felt just as out of place, just as eerie and odd. With distance it's easy to look back and draw conclusions. In the moment, it really doesn't matter how we think it will be or want it to be. It just happens, superceding our will whether we agree or not. Death is that last little jolt. No one truly arrives prepared, not even they who think they have made peace.
My mom died when I was only 22 and I came out as nonbinary a year later, and when I did I remember I wanted to tell her really badly that her beloved son was actually a gender goblin with a sapphic streak. Then I remember that I can't; that her final thoughts of me are not the true me. That hurt more than anything else, that she never knew the real me. Plus she was queer and a trans ally herself and would have stood up for me in front of the rest of my family who are quite queerphobic. Then I got my degree in biology and once again I wish I could tell her. I wanted to share my accomplishments with her, to see a proud mother, and I can't do that. I know that she would anyway but knowing and hearing it are two different things. I'm not afraid of my own death, I'm afraid of what my death would do to my loved ones. Death is hard on the living and I don't like hurting other people. It's why I'm still here and alive when there were times I really didn't want to. I hope one day death won't be as daunting for me. Sorry for the rambling but that's my experience with death
As a former sex worker, I lost a best friend who was vocal socially and academically on being a sex worker ally. Sometimes the people you love the most will also let you down the most or betray you the most. It sucks your mom died, and I hope you’re right about her and the content of her character, but we’re not all good or all bad. We’ll all fallible. What she has done, without a doubt, is somehow instilled within you an enormous sense of empathy, and that’s a beautiful thing.
This is a beautiful video, and thank you for talking about Palestinian death with all the human dignity of death anywhere else. It's not "complicated", or "well in the Middle East", or historically predetermined - it's human beings living and dying and grieving. Please can you tell us what the poem you read is, the one "When death comes". Did you write it? PS. Blackstar is my "sit down shut up and watch this" video. It always goes down well.
''Even though I've come across tons of people who claim that they'll absolutely never die, or that they're already dead, or that the concept of death doesn't apply to them, they all end up dead in the end.'' - Yogiri Takatou*
Everyone dies. And everyone, almost, retains consciousness after physical death, in their subtle bodies. Everyone also dies again, step by step (although a few prematurely reincarnate again), until nothing remains of their former personality except the noblest of traits, deemed useful by their soul. The soul is impersonal yet individual. Everyone reincarnates, yet most only after the complete dissolution of their former personality with all its subtle bodies, and they reincarnate into new subtle bodies with no memory of the former ones. The only consciousness content retained is a vague soul consciousness, of the small part of the soul that reincarnates once more. Yet the spiritual individual remains immortal and experiences every transition, or is able to in any case. Death is experienced by the individual, either in clear awareness, or in a drugged or sleepy state. Our general ideas about life and death are very inaccurate.
I embraced the "rot and disappear forever" thinking after many years of being suicidal, now I can't understand why people are so afraid of death or how they find importance in it...
@@Ramschathard same! I recognize that it's illogical to want to live forever, I have no actual excuse for it - but my fundamental affect is "I'ma be immortal, because living RULES" knowing full well that it's impossible.
