Happily, she survived, regained her health, and wrote of what it meant to look death in the face:
When I was coughing and struggling for unlaboured air and it felt like even my heart was sore, I thought about what it would mean to die. In thinking over the possibility, I felt quite calm about it, not panicked or regretful or scared. I realized I was ok with dying, that it was part of the larger story of my life. I had what I understood to be a genuine ok-ness with the idea of dying, both soon or in future years. In the morning I felt peaceful, although still labouring for air.
A thought came to me; if I am not afraid to die, why am I so afraid to live? Live, as with a deep interior peace—not struggling to find meaning for myself in externally imposed mores—accepting and respecting myself and others because we are created from an eternal and limitless source of profound love.Being ok with dying is a gift—a miracle, if you will. Awareness of life's transient nature makes it all the more precious. When you're struggling to breathe, being able to draw a clear breath is a miracle. You stop looking for capital-M Miracles and start seeing the miracles all around us.
True enlightenment is finding miracles in the ordinary. If your awareness has shifted, you recognize the miracles that are right in front of you—little birds and good sandwiches; being able to breathe; standing, moving, daylight, peace...
Life is a gift. We so often look beyond the gift to what we mistakenly think are the real gifts. But this life, this sensuous existence is the primary gift. We incarnated to experience physicality. You are living up to your gift when you savour coffee, enjoy a hug, or listen to sweet birdsong. Doing so fills our wells.
Only when the well is full do we have enough to share. When our well of life is full of love, we can spread love like peanut butter all over the world. We can, by modeling happiness, surrender, acceptance and joy, teach others to find it within.
And that, I believe, is our real reason for existence.
