It’s funny. I think I *am* ready to die. I’m 25, and I don’t *want* to die, and look forward to a long life with many more experiences and achievements. But if I think of possibly dying today — being hit by a car — or next year if I get cancer — or any of the ways young women can die suddenly and unexpectedly — I don’t feel fear. I don’t *want* it to happen but I feel a sense of peace with myself and my life so far. I don’t have any major regrets. I followed my heart, and I have enjoyed my life, and I have tried my hardest to be ethical, and I have loved deeply. Of course I want more, but if I were to die right now, I wouldn’t feel existential terror. I don’t believe in an afterlife, but I believe my actions and their consequences will ripple throughout time forever. And I have imprinted the consciousnesses of my loved ones just as they have imprinted me.

Is that what is meant by “being ready to die”?

I’m certainly not suicidal, and I love life, but I am *content* with where I am in life, and if I were to die right now I would consider my life so far to have been well lived, and richly savoured for what it was, imperfections and all.