I'd love to believe that when I die, I'll live again. That some thinking, feeling and remembering part of me will continue.

But much as I want to believe that, and despite the ancient and worldwide traditions that assert an afterlife. I know of nothing to suggest that it is more than just wishful thinking.

The world is so exquisite, with so much love and moral depth that there is no reason to deceive ourselves with pretty stories for which there's little good evidence.

Far better it seems to me, in our vulnerability, is to look death in the eye and be grateful everyday for the brief but magnificent opportunities that life provides.