Die before you die: So you don’t miss your own life
- Sound Consciousness
- Jun 2
- 8 min read
Updated: Jun 2
The wake-up call and what death can teach us about living
Tessa Romero, a 50-year-old mother from Málaga, Spain, experienced a profound out-of-body experience after being clinically dead for 24 minutes. Her heart had stopped during a routine school drop-off, and she later recalled perceiving herself floating above her body. She says the experience reshaped her view of life: she is no longer afraid of dying and now cherishes every moment.(1)
The real problem is we don’t know how to face death
Most of us live as though death is something that happens to other people. Even when we intellectually accept our mortality, we rarely let that understanding shape how we live. Instead we rush through our days, jumping from one thing to the next, numb to discomfort, rarely pausing to consider: if it all ended tomorrow, would we feel ready? Would we be prepared? Would we feel at peace?
Psychologists refer to the awareness of our impermanence as an encounter with Transitoriness; a state that encompasses experiences like death anxiety, mortality salience, and liminality. These moments often arise through a terminal diagnosis, a near-death experience or close call, the loss of someone we love, or even through stories we encounter in film, literature, or popular culture.
Encounters with transitoriness can offer profound insights into existence and the nature of the afterlife. These moments often lead individuals to question their beliefs and values, prompting a deeper understanding of their own life and mortality.(2) Becoming aware of life’s finitude can foster greater acceptance of death and can act as a catalyst for change towards a deeper self-understanding, more intimate connections with others and a more authentic way of living.(3)
The real cost wasn’t just that their life was ending, but that they were only just realising how they actually wanted to live.
The concept of confronting one’s mortality is not new. Mystics, monks, and other spiritually-minded people have long practiced daily contemplations on death, until eventually, the fear of it dissolves and a shift occurs. I remember when such a shift happened for me. It was shortly after the death of my Nonno. Struggling to come to terms with his death, I travelled to Benares, India, as a kind of healing balm, to observe and study the rituals, practices and philosophies surrounding death in another culture and spiritual tradition. After days of watching bodies carried through town to the open-air cremation grounds, I slowly came to accept the impermanence of life. It wasn’t a dramatic awakening, but a quiet, deep understanding that, yes, I too will die someday, and that’s okay. There is nothing I need fear.
Die before you die: the invitation beyond physical death
Track forward five years, and I found myself back in India, this time at a Sufi gathering. It was there, while reading one of the texts, that I first came across the phrase Die before you die. Though its origins lie in Islamic mysticism, the teaching transcends religion. At its core, it invites us to let go of our grip on the ego and the false identities we build around it. It deepened my understanding of mortality, not just as the end of physical life, but as an invitation to release what is no longer of service, and layer by layer, let the egoic self fall away.
The Sufi teaching of Die before you die speaks to more than just the end of physical life. I came to realise that the original question, ‘What might your life look like if you knew it could end at any moment?’ focuses on the external reality: your experiences, relationships, projects, and time itself.
The question invites reflection on urgency, priorities, meaning, and how you choose to spend your finite time. But the deeper layer, as I understand it now, is another question entirely: ‘What might your life look like if you knew you could end at any moment?’ This one shifts inwards, toward the ego, the identity and the sense of ‘I.’ It asks you to consider the impermanence of who you believe yourself to be. It’s about how we hold on to identity, fear annihilation, and resist the slow, uncomfortable process of surrender and transformation.
Part 1: Facing the Impermanence of Life
This is where most people start, acknowledging that life, as we know it, is finite. It’s about coming to terms with the fact that our physical existence will end. This can bring fear, sadness, or urgency, but it’s often the more approachable step because it’s about the external reality of death.
Part 2: Facing the Death of the Ego
This is a deeper, often more unsettling step. It involves confronting the idea that the self, the ego, the ‘I’ we identify with, is not permanent. The part of us that clings to identity, control, and the stories we tell ourselves may begin to dissolve. This can feel like a loss of everything familiar and that’s understandably more terrifying.
Acknowledging this two-part process was awakening for me. While I had accepted death’s inevitability, the confronting and more subtle dissolution of the ego, the very concept at the heart of Die before you die, felt far more terrifying. It’s something I have yet to fully integrate, and I believe it takes even the greatest mystics lifetimes to do so. Facing mortality isn’t something you master on a weekend retreat, or, as I once tried, by observing cremations for a week. It’s a far deeper process that involves growing uncomfortable with the slow, ongoing dismantling of the ego. It means stripping back the layers of identity built over a lifetime, or lifetimes, and letting go of the parts that are performative, reactive, or driven by fear: fear of judgment, fear of not being enough, the need to control or seek approval, and the stories we tell ourselves to cope and protect who we think we are.
What it costs to avoid the truth of death
When we avoid confronting death, whether the end of our physical life or the slow death of the ego, we often end up living in reactive mode. We chase success, people-please, numb ourselves, or try to control everything around us. Life becomes smaller, narrower, and fear grows. We may appear accomplished, successful, and put-together on the outside, but inside we feel hollow, disconnected, unfulfilled, and numb. We might be surrounded by people, but feel unseen. And when life finally forces us to face our mortality, through illness, loss, or transition, it can be a confronting awakening.
In my years working in hospices and palliative care wards, I’ve sat beside countless people nearing the end of their lives. Some were dying far younger than expected. Many weren’t just sick, they were deeply tired. Tired of performing, tired of saying yes when they meant no, tired of pretending to be someone they weren’t. Tired of hiding behind facades and not living true to themselves.
I also met people facing sudden identity loss, after a diagnosis such as a stroke, a brain tumour, or loss of a limb, who were suddenly forced to ask, who am I now? The same was true for people who retired after a long, healthy life, only to fall ill shortly after. Or for athletes who had to step away from their sport and found themselves lost and untethered without their identity as athlete.
What if you could die before you die, and in doing so, live more freely than ever before?
The cost of not doing this inner work can show up as anxiety, burnout, depression, spiritual numbness, or even physical illness. It may appear as rage, frustration, or a lingering sense that something is missing and that you are living somebody else's life. The longer we postpone this work, the more life tends to find a way to wake us up, gently, or not.
For many, whether through illness or change in identity due to circumstance, these moments became major turning points; wake-up calls. But not everyone is given the grace of a wake-up call before it’s too late. So I invite you to consider: what if you could voluntarily initiate your own wake-up call? What if we chose to face this now, before life forces it on us? What if you could die before you die, and in doing so, live more freely than ever before? What if this is the wake-up call you need to live your life more fully, and with more authenticity?
Facing your mortality is not morbid, it’s liberating.
It reconnects you to joy, truth, and love. When you face the transient nature of life and your mortality, you are asked to confront your greatest fear, and in doing so, you find liberation!
But I write this as an invitation to myself, just as much as I do to you: to consider what it might mean to face both kinds of death, over and over again. First, the death that comes with acknowledging the impermanence of life, accepting that all things, including us, eventually pass. And second, the deeper challenge, the slow death of the ego, the part of us that clings to identity, control, and fear. Neither happens all at once, but both can be practiced, gently, day by day. In order to live a more deeply meaningful, authentic, and fulfilled life. A more honest life and one where we can reach our deathbed and say, I am proud that I was unapologetically me.
It’s not about grandiose achievements or making more money. It’s about living in true service to yourself. There is only one you. The path you’re here to walk is yours, no one else’s. And that’s a rare privilege. Because there is not one other soul on this planet who can walk that particular path but you. Pause there. Really sit with that. That’s worth remembering.
Begin today: transformation doesn’t require a crisis
You don’t need a near-death experience or a trip to the burning ghats of India to start this work. You can start now. Start small, by noticing where your ego grips you tightly, where you're performing, people-pleasing, controlling, or trying to be someone you’re not. Spend a few quiet minutes each day contemplating the fact that you will die, not to depress yourself, but to wake yourself up to what really matters.
Ask yourself:- If I let go of who I think I should be, what truth would remain?- If I lived like my time was limited, what would I do differently today?
This practice of facing mortality and loosening the ego’s grip can be a lifelong path, but it doesn’t have to begin in crisis. In my work, I’ve sat with too many people at the end of their lives who realised, too late, that they’d spent years, sometimes decades, living on autopilot. Doing what they thought they should, rather than what they truly wanted. They were stuck in roles, routines, and expectations they never stopped to question. The real cost wasn’t that their life was ending, but that they only just realised how they actually wanted to live, and now there was no time left to change it.
If you're feeling the call to go deeper, you're not alone. This is the heart of the work I do as a death doula. I support individuals who want to engage more honestly with the impermanence of life, not just in preparation for dying, but in service of truly living.
If you're curious about how this work might look for you, you’re welcome to:
Because the truth is, the sooner we begin to face death, both our physical mortality and the death of who we think we are, the more space we create for a life that we choose, a life that is steeped in greater meaning, joy, and authenticity.
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This article is authored by Nicole Sultana, who holds a Post Graduate Degree in Spiritual Care, a Post Graduate Certificate in Business (Marketing), and a Bachelor of Applied Science in Sports & Exercise. In addition, she is a Certified Therapeutic Sound Practitioner and a Death Doula. Nicole is the founder of Sound Consciousness, a company that offers wellbeing strategies and therapeutic sound practices to help individuals achieve peak performance in their professional lives, sporting endeavours, relationships, and personal aspirations.
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