2003-05-06 - 11:30 p.m.

Have I mentioned how much I love my death and dying class? I swear, every single class results in a profound alteration to my perspective on life, and its companion, death. Today I did a quick check on what things I am prevented from doing because of an innate aversion to death. The first thing that came to mind was scuba diving. I've always been intrigued by what lies beneath the ocean waves but haven't seriously considered learning how to scuba dive because there seem to be just so many things that can go deadly wrong. However, it is with no small amount of embarrassment that I admit that the possibility of a shark attack is a predominant reason for not learning how to scuba dive.

So, this is where my professor's constant repetition of "no matter what you do, you're going to die anyway" comes into play. Why do I prevent myself from participating in life-enriching experiences because I'm afraid to die? It's absurd and only serves to make life less of an experience. It's like giving in to death before The Grim Reaper comes knocking. Also, when I think about it, if I don't die prematurely, what's going to be my likely demise? With good reasons, I'm convinced that I would most likely die of some sort of cancer. So, which way is better? Living for weeks/months/years with the knowledge that my body is being eaten up with cancer or a relatively quick death at the hands (jaw) of a shark? Plus, I'd much rather that my body be put to good use, such as the nourishment of another living being, than to be burnt like a piece of garbage or buried in a sealed box. What's the use in that?

Now my only excuse for not signing up for scuba lessons is a lack of funds. It's an expensive hobby. However, the new understanding brought to the fore by confronting my death-denial is sure to impact other choices I make, and for that I'm thankful.