#4-Death Contemplation Reorganises Priorities
On death contemplation reorganising priorities and simplification unfolding in parallel.
I continued stripping my life down to the essentials this week. I moved toward one device, one workflow, one home base for creativity, and one morning rhythm that puts meditation and reading at the centre. This practical simplification happened alongside a much deeper inner simplification.
Death contemplation became one of the main forces shaping my thinking. Rather than triggering anxiety, it cleared space in my mind. It sharpened my awareness of how short life is, how quickly things pass, and how fortunate I am to be alive. The teachings from Buddhist psychology and Tibetan texts landed in a very immediate way, not as ideas but as lived experience.
School continued to test my emotional resilience. I saw my students more clearly, not just as difficult personalities but as young people acting from pain, insecurity, and habit. I shifted toward compassion and toward recognising my own emotional limits.
Travel, Asia, lineage, rebirth, and the question of children wove into this broader reflection on what actually matters. I felt the pull toward a simpler, freer life, and toward a future shaped by inner alignment rather than social expectation.
Physically, I tuned into my body. I paced music production to protect my fingers and energy. I rebuilt mobility and cardiovascular health to support my long-term goals.
I moved toward a life with fewer distractions, stronger meaning, and more deliberate expression.
Analysis and Deeper Themes
Contemplations on death reorganised my entire worldview this week. The more I looked at impermanence, the more unnecessary weight fell away. This affected everything from my technology choices to my emotional reactions at school.
My digital simplification isn't a productivity project. It reflects my inner landscape. When the inside becomes spacious, the outside matches. I chose the iMac Pro as my main workstation and let the rest go as part of a deeper instinct to create one grounded point of presence in my life. This isn't minimalism for its own sake. I recognised that my creative process needs consistency and stillness.
My reflections on teaching continued to mature. Earlier in the year, difficult students frustrated me and triggered self-doubt. Now I see how much of their behaviour reflects their own suffering. This shift from irritation to compassion isn't just emotional. It's spiritual. It aligns perfectly with my meditation practice and my focus on dissolving the egoic response to adversity.
Creatively, I thought in terms of transmission rather than creation. Music felt less like a hobby and more like the medium through which I will share what I'm learning about meditation, perception, death, and presence. I placed music and spirituality inside the same container rather than treating them as separate domains.
My reflections on children, genes, lineage, and rebirth marked a significant psychological shift. I loosened the weight of inherited expectations and saw myself more clearly in the context of something much larger. This creates freedom. It allows me to choose the life that suits my temperament and purpose without shame or confusion.
My body awareness strengthened too. I know winter slows me down, and rather than fighting it, I adjusted. I treated mobility, running, and recovery as spiritual disciplines rather than chores.
Proposed Implications
My life naturally heads toward a streamlined creative routine: morning meditation, short reflection, and a focused block of music without competing priorities. This rhythm mirrors my temperament and supports long-term consistency.
Death contemplation makes me less reactive. I'll likely notice that arguments, stress, and petty irritations lose their force more quickly. My responses at school will soften even further, and I may influence the atmosphere of the room simply through the steadiness of my presence.
My identity as a musician ties to my identity as a practitioner. My work may naturally evolve into ambient, meditative, or contemplative music intended to guide or support others. This carries clear implications for my long-term creative direction.
Travel remains a meaningful horizon. The more I recognise how short life is, the more likely I act on my instinct to teach abroad, explore Asia, or create from a more spacious environment. When my body reaches full readiness and my career stabilises, this becomes a real path rather than a distant idea.
My health habits lay the groundwork for the next phase of my life. Strength, mobility, and endurance will support both travel and deeper practice.
My relationship with time changed. When impermanence becomes not just a concept but a felt experience, my life becomes more immediate. This makes my days feel clearer and my work more intentional.
Reflective Questions
- If my life continues to simplify at this pace, what becomes possible that wasn't possible before?
- How does my creative identity shift when I see my music not just as expression but as a tool for teaching and transmission?
- What does it look like to treat every difficult moment at work as part of my meditation practice?
- If I imagine myself living in Asia a few years from now, what habits do I need to build now to support that transition?