Humility means embracing growth as part of life. It means accepting mortality, which must be acknowledged to find peace lacking diversion.

Over two years ago I made this note to myself, intending to write an entry here that never developed. Since then, that note has been in my electronic diary, staring at me every time I sift through it looking for inspiration. It wasn’t until today that I realized why I wrote it, not that I knew then — I did not.

The subject of this note is only part of the issue in our lives. Sure, death is the great equalizer among us, but isn’t it the way we avoid its nature that tells us about ourselves and each other? When I thought of this subject, I was considering the landscape of our relationships and how we have narrowed the scope of our attention. It makes sense to me that we would focus more with age and weed people out — that seems totally natural. But, death is only half the stress we feel. We are very good at ignoring it, so ego might be the bigger facet of our practical life.

Recently I realized that our social breadth has narrowed with experience not for reasons related to my original observations of aging and awareness, although those are big factors. Instead, I think the change is rooted in the manifestation of our fear, which, frankly, is a matter of ego.

By “we” I mean more than simply us two because we are only one part of any relationship we have. And it doesn’t matter how we choose to deal with our mortality — what I’m speaking of is the relative manner. It seems clear now that our relationships thrive on the similarity of our conception of death to those with whom we relate. Or more simply put, we get along with people who act the same way as us when they are confronted with the ultimate fear.

Ego is fickle and seductive. It is too complicated to consider in one sitting, so in this space I’ll revisit the subject from time to time.