When you allow yourself to truly see and sit with the fact that we are only here for a short period of time, it can feel scary and also freeing.
My world became small when I started developing profound anxiety about dying. It was a good sign, actually, as I came from a place of apathy to wanting to live. Truly live. Then I developed anxiety about needing to figure out what that meant for me with a sense of urgency, given my awareness of our limited time here.
To sit with the anxiety over the past few years, I’ve intentionally been processing what it means for me to live with a condition that nearly cost me my life while still living with the same mind and in the same body, with the same condition. Suppressing the memories from my critical states of being didn’t allow me to process through. Dissociating served its purpose, and reassociating has been full of emotional whirlwinds.
Sharing my journey out loud has brought many people into my life who face catalytic events that also change the way they live forever, such as serious illness, loss, and recovery from addiction.
It’s brought people into my life who have been disillusioned by the empty promises external validation has to offer when it comes to meaning, purpose, and true fulfillment in life, people who are seeking more.
At first, this recognition and craving for more can feel like a lonely road when you are surrounded by people who no longer share the values you once thought defined you.
When you start to live your new values out loud—shifting your identity away from a performance-based identity and realigning with what matters most—there will be losses. Experiencing grief does not mean this shift is wrong. Grieving is a natural part of life transitions.
May we allow ourselves to grieve what is left behind. According to Martha Beck’s Change Cycle, this would coincide with Stage 1: “Death and Rebirth.”
I value the opportunity to walk with people in this stage in particular, as it can feel lonely and scary—you are never alone.
What I’ve learned from my own journey is how often there are people who have been living seemingly parallel lives—stepping away from what they’ve always known and asking, “What now?” When we ask these questions out loud, we often find one another. Walking together in a supportive community provides stability in the ever-changing process of self-discovery.
At times, questioning the purpose and meaning of life after shedding my previously held beliefs felt like a black hole of doom. Over time, it became much brighter—now a white canvas where I get to paint what it means for me to truly live the life I desire. Our moods, beliefs, and overall state of being shade our perspectives. It’s important to allow ourselves to rest and nourish our minds, bodies, and spirits—taking care when our brains are feeling low and trusting that it’s not the best time to make big decisions, but rather we are better served by resting.
I’ve also had to work on my mindset. I am great at identifying and preparing for potential catastrophes, and have had to intentionally learn how to embrace the possibility that everything may work out better than I can imagine and that I can figure out whatever arises.
So now what?
No longer captive to the constant need for external validation and nauseated by the idea of pursuing titles that once defined my worth. No longer consumed by material desires that provide a brief dopamine hit, but dedicated to living more sustainably with less pollution.
Now? What’s next?
My mind, body, and spirit will no longer tolerate living out of integrity. The pain was too deep.
So now I discover (or rediscover) what it means to live a life true to me—an exploration that lasts a lifetime.
My antidote to anxiety about dying is to spend each day making the most out of living while mitigating risks, prioritizing the safety of mind, body, and spirit, and focusing on what truly matters to my soul.
What I know matters for sure—is you. You matter. Your life matters. Your unique gifts matter.
And if you show me your CV in an attempt to prove it, I will vomit. Show me your humanness and kind heart instead.
Part of my sense of purpose in life is to remind you of how much you are loved and how much you matter and to help you live a life true to you. Not believing those things were true for me and living out of alignment with what truly matters in life almost cost me mine.
Surviving my near-deathbed gave me the opportunity to choose to live differently. It helped me to see that we get to make the choice of how we want to live every second of every day. What do you choose for your life at this moment?
What does it mean to live a life true to you? What are the costs of living out of alignment?
Jillian Rigert is an oral medicine specialist and radiation oncology research fellow.
