I am always in perfect health. AND...I will die someday.
Reconcile this and be happy.
Death is a perfectly natural part of existence. It is not pathological but perfectly healthy and I will die right on time (despite my silly arguments).
Ego wants to save my life at all costs, but if I’m arguing with the reality of anything, including my imminent, perfectly on-time death, all I’m doing is fighting to keep my suffering. I suffer because I’m trying to save what isn’t in trouble, because I’m trying to keep something going that doesn’t need to keep going, that cannot keep going because everything everywhere is always changing, despite my illusions that it stays the same.
I am a fleeting eddy. Like an eddy, I have never been alive. I have only ever seemed to be. “I” am a whole new thing born and dead every instant. Gone. Gone. Gone. I can let “me” go. Now I’m this! Gone. Now I’m this! Gone. Only ever what is, which is exactly what should be.
Just celebrate always being perfect oneness lived out perfectly. Enjoy the ride! When I can do it, nothing makes me feel more alive than being this thing that isn’t.