"You Can’t Die. Who You Think You Are Dies."

It was a cold winter’s night in Melbourne.

I had just gotten home from work, and my border collie, Zep, greeted me at the door. It wasn’t a simple hello, he wanted a walk. Badly.

I grabbed my things, layered up with warm clothes and we headed out.

I put on a Ram Dass lecture I hadn’t heard before and started walking.

The fresh air felt good.

I had been listening to Ram Dass lectures on YouTube since I woke up. He always had something interesting to say, but to be honest, I couldn’t fully comprehend it.

My mind was resisting. But my heart was willing.

In one of his talks, he mentioned an experience he’d had in Melbourne.

He’d been invited to a home where Indian music was being played. During the evening, someone not of Indian background and with no training got up and started dancing with such grace and precision, it was as if they were a trained classical Indian dancer.

I was amazed.

We walked quickly, mostly to stay warm but also because I was trying to keep up with Zep. His energy was next level. I was always trying to match it.

Then it happened.

Ram Dass was talking about death. And he said the words:

“You can’t die. Who you think you are dies.”

I stopped.

Zep stopped too.

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

Who I think I am… dies?

I don’t know what happened in that moment, but something shifted.

Who am I then? I wondered. If I can’t die… what is it that dies?

I didn’t have the intuitive understanding yet to figure it out but it was a massive first step.

At the time, I hadn’t even considered that the death of thought had anything to do with spirituality.

Was that even a thing?

And if it is how do you live without thinking?

So many questions.

But I kept walking. Kept listening.

It was just a small opening but one that helped me along the path.