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I went to my first funeral last week. Now, some of you may be surprised to know as a whole, I'm a pretty morbid person. Being interested in philosophy and constantly being on the edge of a personality and existential crisis does that. So I was curious about this book and knew I wanted to read it.

How do I begin? I have so much to say.

First of all, this book felt pale. That's my best adjective. I see death as a natural part of life. I don't think we need to be sad about it. I think we need to talk more about dying and not just negatively. I feel like the entire world is denying this very important part of life. I remember I used to say stuff like, "If I'll be alive in my thirties..." and friends were shocked because obviously promised I'm going to live until my thirties and not get run over in an hour. I see negative things as a part of life. I've always gone by the line "ache marvelously" and how pain is part of life and I want to celebrate that as well.

This book lacks life. That's another problem. Bronnie goes on and on about her dramas with other carers and her family history and I simply didn't care. Some authors can afford to write those things but Bronnie lacks that skill. I swear, this book was the opposite of fierce.

I can't seem to gather my thoughts. I see what this book is trying to say. I get it. Meditating is indeed great. I'm happy Bronnie is happy. I just, I experience life so differently, I can't feel this book.

I started skimming at page 200 and didn't stop. I thought this would be more enlightening. This book needs a lot of editing.

what I'm taking with me
� Um, being happy and friends are important?
� I never ever want to be that old.
� Bronnie is an odd name.