There comes a moment on this path when you begin to feel a quiet shift. Something in you starts to loosen, and what once felt like “you” begins to dissolve. It can feel like loss, but it’s actually awakening.
Each death is not an ending; it’s a return to who you truly are.
As you walk with me through these seven deaths, I invite you to breathe, pause, and notice what stirs within. You may recognize where you already are in this journey.
The first death happens when you stop identifying with the physical.
Your body, family, relationships, wealth, everything you can touch or hold, begins to lose its grip on who you think you are.
Here the ego says, “I am what I can physically experience.”
But when you awaken, you see that you are not the body. The body is an expression of your being, not its limit.
You start to sense that your presence extends far beyond skin and bone.
Then comes the death of emotion.
You’ve lived believing, “I am what I feel.” You’ve moved with joy and pain, desire and fear, riding their waves as if they define you.
But as you grow, you realize emotions are not who you are. They move through you.
You are the ocean, not the tide.
When you stop chasing or resisting emotion, you begin to rest in the stillness that’s always been there beneath every wave.
Next is the death of doing.
The ego says, “I am what I do.” You measure your worth by effort, achievement, and control.
But one day, you see that all doing flows through you. You were never the doer.
When this illusion fades, you don’t stop acting, but your actions become effortless.
You begin to move with the rhythm of something greater. Life acts through you.
The fourth death happens in the heart.
Here, love has always felt like a transaction: giving, receiving, deserving.
The ego whispers, “I am what I give and what I receive.”
But as this illusion falls, you realize love never belonged to you.
You are not the giver or the receiver. You are the current through which love flows.
When this happens, love stops needing a reason. It simply is.
Then comes the death of identity.
You’ve called yourself many things: healer, seeker, sinner, divine.
The ego says, “I am what I think I am.”
When this layer dissolves, you realize you are none of these labels, yet all of them.
You start to express truth, not image.
Your voice no longer comes from who you think you are. It flows from something deeper.
This death is subtle.
Here, the ego clings to knowing: “I am what I know.” You build your identity on wisdom, insight, or understanding.
But as awakening deepens, you see that even knowledge is limited.
True vision begins when you surrender the need to know.
The Third Eye doesn’t open to give more answers. It opens to dissolve the one who’s asking.
You begin to bow before the mystery, not as ignorance, but as reverence.
And finally, the death of “I.”
Here, the illusion of being separate fades. The ego’s last whisper is, “I am apart.”
But when this death happens, you remember you were never apart.
You are the source and the reflection, the light and the mirror.
There is no longer “you” and “Divine.” There is only one: infinite, eternal, and whole.
This is freedom.
Not an escape from life, but the realization that you are life itself.
These deaths don’t always happen in one lifetime. Some dissolve layer by layer, birth by birth.
But no matter how long it takes, the truth remains:
Physical death was never real.
Only the ego dies again and again until nothing remains to die.
And what remains is you — infinite, silent, and free.
Close your eyes for a moment.
Breathe into your heart.
Ask yourself: Which of these deaths am I moving through right now?
Is it the attachment to the physical, the pull of emotion, the need to act, or the desire to be seen?
Whatever rises, meet it with kindness.
There is no rush, no race. Every layer you release brings you closer to truth, to the part of you that has never died and never will.
You’re not losing yourself. You’re remembering yourself.