There is something that has been traveling along this cavern of life, beckoning you, again and again, into your heart.
Beckoning you into a deep, raw, multidimensional dance with the living and the dying.
Have you caught its song?
Have you felt the celebration and the spiral of grief that moves and shapes, renews and reorganizes how you breathe, how you connect, how you receive and offer yourself to the worlds you inhabit?
There is something of great turning, of great beauty and epic proportion, moving in the wind.
Something that surrenders to the long day.
Something that brings its belly and its ear to the earth to listen, to take the pulse, to cry, to wail, to ask for ancestral help, to forage for new ways of possibility already stirring in the soil.
Choosing how you would like to leave this planet is a gift.
Some of us leave abruptly, impacting hearts in ways that are unexpected or harsh on the cords of attachment. These ripples may move through generations, the way we leave, what we carried, what we were able or unable to tend before we went. There may be weighted hearts in our wake. Unconscious trauma. Unspoken truths. Missed accountability. Shattered dreams.
And still, there may also be prayers.
Prayers seeded in the hearts of those we touched.
Prayers from the ancestors that awaken and sing themselves back into life through the caverns of our longing, our grief, our unfinished love.
There are many ways to exit this planet.
Some leave in relationships that feel held, conscious, and well-tended.
Others don’t know what hit them.
Some were never given language, models, or permission to contemplate death in these deeper veins of consideration.
Some map things out. They vision. They write. They plan. They organize.
But what if you don’t?
What if you don’t yet know what is possible?
What if you don’t know the different ways choice can still live and breathe in the body, ways that might stir you, align with you, even now?
Some lose autonomy.
Some are isolated, living inside an epidemic of loneliness.
Some are navigating poverty, racism, marginalization, cultural dislocation.
Some are far from their ancestral ways—or grew up in cultures shaped by amnesia, erasure, and whitewashing.
And still, no matter where you are coming from, moving toward, stepping sideways, or shaking things loose, whether your documentation is complete or you didn’t even know such documentation exists, choice can still live in the heart.
Listen.
Listen with your heart.
What is your song?
What is your choice?
You get to have a frequency of belonging.
A courage for being here.
And a say, where possible, in how you would like to leave.
The Landscape We Are In
Many humans today are meeting old age, illness, and dying inside cultures that have been under a long spell of death denial, medical heroism, and “never-die” mythology. Systems have been designed to avoid death, delay it at all costs, or hush it back into the shadows with exhausting consistency.
Who started fighting death?
Who said we had to live forever?
Families spend thousands of dollars every day to shelter, feed, and provide comfort and community for elders—often inside systems that are overstretched, under-resourced, and not designed to tend the soul. Many people are overmedicated, strung along, or kept alive without meaningful quality of life, without intimacy, without rhythm, without song.
Grief piles up without language or witness.
Numbness becomes a strategy.
The body tries to digest the undigestible.
And many people, quietly, bravely, are asking different questions now.
What if we could exit in harmony with our souls?
What if we could trust the mystery?
What if we could free-fall into the lap of our ancestors, human and more-than-human?
Evolving Choices and Directives
There are many advanced directives blossoming now—responding to real human thresholds, real suffering, real longing for dignity and agency.
Some people qualify for Medical Aid in Dying (MAID) under specific legal and medical criteria. Others do not—especially those facing long trajectories of dementia or neurodegenerative illness.
Some choose Voluntarily Stopping Eating and Drinking (VSED) as a way of reclaiming choice when MAID is not available. VSED is not taken lightly. It asks much of the body, the nervous system, caregivers, and the relational field.
In response, new approaches are emerging:
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Directives that support mild comfort feeding during VSED, allowing nourishment for comfort rather than sustenance—often extending the process to around 20 days rather than 10–14, easing nervous system distress and increasing medical and caregiver willingness to participate.
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Growing openness among some healthcare professionals to follow these evolving directives with greater clarity and compassion.
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In some cases, physicians are exploring whether individuals might qualify for MAID during a VSED process, when suffering becomes clearly intolerable—though this remains complex and not universally accepted.
Internationally, countries such as Switzerland, Canada, and Australia are meeting people earlier in these thresholds—allowing legal pathways for those who wish to exit before advanced dementia or severe decline removes their capacity to choose.
Studies in the UK have shown that many people report greater fear of dementia than of cancer. Alzheimer’s and related conditions often bring layers of distress—confusion, agitation, loss of autonomy, loss of recognition, loss of self—alongside profound grief for families and caregivers.
These realities are shaping a global reckoning.
Returning to the Question
How do you choose?
What if the question isn’t about having everything figured out—but about listening?
Listening for what wants to be honored.
Listening for what feels aligned.
Listening for what brings a sense of dignity, even in uncertainty.
You do not need to know everything to begin.
You do not need to be organized, eloquent, or certain.
You are allowed to choose breathing in your heart.
You are allowed to choose relationship.
You are allowed to choose presence.
Your song matters.
Your frequency matters.
The way you belong—to life, to death, to lineage—matters.
Listen.
What is calling you?
What is your choice, right now?
There are many ways to leave this world.
May we remember that there are also many ways to stay human while we are still here.