We live immersed in a terror of death. That needs to be accounted for when we examine our own individual attitudes toward end of life. Which, of course, is a complete oxymoron. There is no end of life. Bodies appear and disappear, is all.
I cannot say, “I am the body.” That is because I am not the body. Neither am I a Volvo C30, even though I drive one. Bodies and cars—they come and go, along with everything else. So the question is, What doesn’t change?
We are fascinated by bodies, mesmerized by them.
Life snaps its fingers.
The spell breaks.
Men's Work 