There was a point a while ago when I realized that there is absolutely nothing scary anymore about dying. In the past, it was mostly the potential suffering that scared me, not really the act itself, though it felt somehow… I don’t know, pointless is probably the best word. Anticlimactic.

I am deeply convinced that goddess watches over my fate. I cannot know how deep her involvement is, so to stay on the safe side, I will always assume that anything that happens to me might be her will or at least approved by her, even though I’d never consider myself important enough for her to control every aspect of my existence. But that doesn’t matter to me, I couldn’t understand her divine ways even if I wanted to. For me, it matters that it could be her - so I will treat everything with the appropriate devotion. It’s a bit like Pascal’s wager - I’m not losing anything by treating everything around me as an expression of her divinity, whereas the potential consequences of not honoring something she actually did - deep sadness, a feeling of having failed her - are very high.

Of course, if someone watches over, decides, influences my fate - in whatever mysterious ways - it’s not unreasonable to assume that the eventual end of it might also be her decision in some way.

So if I treat my eventual passing as potentially her decision, it suddenly feels… right. There is no more uncertainty in it, my trust in her decisions is high enough. I don’t need to know if something happens afterwards or what - whatever the answer to that question may be, if she decides it, it will be the right one - and the only right one.

Whatever happens, wherever she rules all will be fine. Why should this deep and unshakable belief of mine stop at death?