The-Subtle-Art-of-Not-Giving-a-F-ck-EnglishPDF-Mark-Manson

that it’s all right to die.
This willing and even exuberant interfacing with one’s own mortality has
ancient roots. The Stoics of ancient Greece and Rome implored people to
keep death in mind at all times, in order to appreciate life more and remain
humble in the face of its adversities. In various forms of Buddhism, the
practice of meditation is often taught as a means of preparing oneself for
death while still remaining alive. Dissolving one’s ego into an expansive
nothingness—achieving the enlightened state of nirvana—is seen as a trial
run of letting oneself cross to the other side. Even Mark Twain, that hairy
goofball who came in and left on Halley’s Comet, said, “The fear of death
follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any
time.”
Back on the cliff, I bend down, slightly leaning back. I put my hands on the
ground behind me and gently lower myself onto my butt. I then gradually
slide one leg over the edge of the cliff. There’s a small rock jutting out of the
cliff side. I rest my foot on it. Then I slide my other foot off the edge and put
it on the same small rock. I sit there a moment, leaning back on my palms,
wind ruffling my hair. The anxiety is bearable now, as long as I stay focused
on the horizon.
Then I sit up straight and look down the cliff again. Fear shoots back up
through my spine, electrifying my limbs and laser-focusing my mind on the
exact coordinates of every inch of my body. The fear is stifling at times. But
each time it stifles me, I empty my thoughts, focus my attention on the
bottom of the cliff below me, force myself to gaze at my potential doom, and
then to simply acknowledge its existence.
I was now sitting on the edge of the world, at the southern-most tip of
hope, the gateway to the east. The feeling was exhilarating. I can feel the
adrenaline pumping through my body. Being so still, so conscious, never felt
so thrilling. I listen to the wind and watch the ocean and look out upon the
ends of the earth—and then I laugh with the light, all that it touches being
good.
Confronting the reality of our own mortality is important because it
obliterates all the crappy, fragile, superficial values in life. While most people