It may come as a shock to most, but nary a day passes where I don’t think about death.  Oh, it’s not part of a regimen; it just happens naturally.  Of course, I wasn’t always like this, nor am I so old that one should think the grim reaper was nigh.  Moreover, while it may sound morbid, I consider it a gift.

In fact, a goodly percentage of the world’s problems are a result of
people’s failure to contemplate their end, for it is only death that
places life in perspective.  In other words, it’s hard to get too
wrapped up in the worldly when you’re thinking heavenly thoughts about
your final destination.

For instance, it’s very common to become so consumed by ambition that
it becomes one’s religion.  It may be a career, sport, art, money,
power or something else; whatever it is, though, it’s easy to place it
at the center of your life and make it larger than life.  But when
death figures prominently in the equation, one will probably realize
what is truly important.

It really is a question of what you’re working toward.  If a child
lives only for the moment, without consideration of his future, he will
play and spend his entire time indulging frivolous pursuits (which is
why children have parents); this is what we call a misspent youth.  But
if his future responsibilities — college, career, family, earning a
living, etc. — factor into the equation, he will know what he should
be doing now to prepare.  You have to know what your ultimate goal is
before you can understand what’s truly important and what will help you
reach that goal.

So it is with death.  Most people live their lives as if they will live
forever in this world, even though they know this isn’t so.  Thus, like
an undirected child, they often elevate the relatively frivolous and
are blissfully unaware of what they should be doing in this material
fold.  That’s how it works when you lose sight of your final
destination.

And this partially explains the misbehavior of so many of God’s
children.  When I hear about a politician or judge caught up in a
bribery scandal, a businessman embezzling funds or defrauding others,
or some other example of unethical behavior, I know that the person
must be very much "of this world."  Why, he can’t take that money,
power or status with him, and if he had pondered his ultimate demise
more, he might have paved the way for his worldly demise less. 

Then, man tends to put so much pressure on himself.  We may agonize
over whether or not we’ll get that promotion, raise or contract;
whether we’ll pass the test or win the game.  Will we carry the day? 
When death is real to you, though, these endeavors may not seem so
important, and the pressure suddenly may not seem so great.  It really
is a relief.

As to this, I remember a story about a student who committed suicide
because he was fearful that he wouldn’t pass muster in his very
demanding academic setting (I believe this was in Japan).  It’s sad, of
course.  But it occurs to me that if he had pondered his death more,
he might not have met with it so soon.