Gratitude in the Face of Mortality

Lately, I’ve been flooded with such immense gratitude that it sometimes swells into a profound sadness. It’s as if the weight of appreciation for every single person who’s crossed my path—whether they stayed or merely brushed by—has become too much for my heart to contain. I find myself wanting to thank everyone, even those who may not have been kind, because each of them shaped my journey in some way. My gratitude has grown so intense that it feels like my soul needs to leave my body just to grasp the fullness of it. This life is fleeting, a blink in the grand scheme of the universe, and yet it’s so full of meaning that it overwhelms me.

Of course, it’s impossible to keep up with everyone. When I reach out with messages of love and gratitude, some don’t respond, and others seem worried about my state of mind. It makes me wonder—am I overthinking? Is it strange to contemplate death so often? Yet, death is the one certainty we all share. One day, each of us will fall from this earth, and I just want to say hello, to connect, before that inevitable moment comes. Is that so wrong? Have I somehow crossed a line, or do people simply not care as deeply as I do?

Maybe it’s the nature of existence itself that makes it hard for people to engage with such intensity. In a world where we’re constantly distracted, perhaps confronting the finite nature of life is unsettling. But isn’t that exactly why it’s so important? To acknowledge our impermanence, to express gratitude while we still can, to share a moment of connection before it’s too late. If that makes others uncomfortable, I can only hope that one day they’ll understand the urgency I feel.

Life and death are intertwined in a dance of fragility and beauty. To live fully is to embrace the fleeting nature of it all, to love deeply, to express gratitude fiercely, even if it makes others uncomfortable. Maybe they don’t understand it now, but one day they will. And if my words linger in their minds, perhaps they’ll realize that reaching out wasn’t an act of desperation or confusion—it was an act of love.