How do you cope with the knowledge that you will die?

My health sucks and I'm old. I know I'm not super long for the world and sometimes I'm angry at the frailty of the human body, the slow pace of medical progress, luddite pushback to aspects of posthumanist experimentation that could perhaps extend lifespans. Other times I'm so sick of the world I wouldn't try to save myself if my body went into one of the types of medical emergency that's nearly killed me a few times in the past. Then, sometimes either through dissociative compartmentalization or actual, foolish optimism I look to the future, what little of it I may have, with hope and I see the bright side of things. The manic side of manic depression pays a visit and I kick into a high gear of activity and connecting with people I'd not touched base with in my normal self-isolation. I make commitments and plans I'll later regret extending myself for but that sometimes are rewarding. In short: lotta bad, some good.

There is no particular reason for one to spend one's precious days in dreadful fear of death, for it is, after all, a most natural affair, and one which every living soul must someday encounter. Far better, surely, to concern oneself with the gentle business of living, to greet each morning with a grateful heart, and to make something good and worthwhile of the hours so kindly afforded to us. There are gardens to be tended, books to be read, friendships to be cherished, and countless little kindnesses waiting to be done. One ought not to trouble oneself excessively with the distant evening whilst the afternoon sun is still shining so pleasantly upon the fields. Life, however brief or uncertain, remains a rather splendid gift, and it would be a terrible pity to spend it fretting over its conclusion instead of enjoying its many quiet wonders.

I'll be going home to jebus :D