We practice death every day.
Every time something comes to an end we’re given a chance.
A song. A dance. A day.
We can practice kicking and screaming or ignoring and suppressing or distracting and distancing…
Or we can accept that what made it so beautiful was that it ended after all. And we can cherish… savor… appreciate…
…And try to more fully receive all that’s packed inside the moments that come next.
…In those moments where we so fortunately get to practice again. And again. And again.
…All the way until The End.