Living with Intention, Facing Death with Clarity: A Reflection on Values, Faith, and Legacy

 In a world that often avoids conversations about death, I have chosen to approach it differently, not out of fear and avoidance, but out of intention and confrontation.

Especially in times of uncertainty like these, I find it important to engage with these uncomfortable topics not through avoidance, but through clarity, rationality, and a sense of decency. (Note: This is extremely ironic and even laughable, since I am fully aware of the broader circumstances and challenges I am navigating as a targeted individual, in addition to the upsetting, infuriating, and at times “delusional”-seeming things I have exposed and written thus far, and the fact that I have survived and tolerated things I did not think I could tolerate, with boundaries crossed in ways I did not think were possible, and often and thinking about extremely unlawful thoughts). But perhaps that is precisely why this reflection matters.

Thinking about one’s obituary, funeral, and legacy is not about anticipating the end. Rather, it is about clarifying how one wishes to live. It invites questions such as: What do I want my life to stand for? and How do I align my actions today with that vision?

At its core, this reflection is an exercise in values.

Although I am constrained in the decisions I can make going forward, I hope to live a life grounded in truth and shaped by my Faith. It is through this foundation that I seek to act with care, integrity, and righteousness, and to discern how best to respond to both light and darkness in the world.

Part of this calling, as I understand it, is to speak Truth where there is injustice, to expose what is harmful, and to contribute, however modestly, to the dismantling of inequitable systems and the building of more just, honest, and compassionate ones. At the same time, I hold onto the belief that hope ultimately comes from God, and that Faith offers a path toward healing, restoration, and meaning beyond what we can achieve alone.

In my own life, I also strive to make a direct and practical difference through my work in healthcare. My research on dementia care, particularly among immigrant and marginalized communities, reflects my belief that dignity, autonomy, and understanding should remain central to all human experiences.

I also believe that greater emphasis should be placed on prevention rather than treatment alone. Supporting mental and physical well-being through healthy, intentional living, and improving public understanding of health can help reduce suffering before it reaches crisis. At the same time, this approach must remain equitable, ensuring that efforts to promote health extend to the entire population, including those who are disadvantaged or undeserved, and who often face the greatest barriers to care.

Yet beyond professional and academic contributions, I hope my life reflects something quieter, but equally essential: connection.

Relationships, with family, friends, mentors, colleagues, and community, are what give meaning to everything else. No accomplishment exists in isolation; it is shaped by those who support us, challenge us, and walk alongside us.

I hope, in general, that we can all strive to be kinder, more understanding, and more compassionate toward one another, regardless of the paths we come from. I believe in treating others with a fundamental sense of respect and decency, even when that same kindness is not returned. Not everyone will like you in life, and some may take advantage of your kindness, mistaking it for weakness or naivety. In some cases, kindness may even be met with hostility or efforts to diminish or undermine you.

In my own experience, there have been moments where my intentions and character were extremely misrepresented (intentionally and unintentionally), or treated with contempt, and where that sense of being misunderstood extended beyond myself to those close to me, such as my mom, who is someone I know who has scarified too much because of her care towards me. That can be incredibly painful and unsettling to realize. Even now as I write this, I hear some of the surveillance operators harbouring the most wicked thoughts towards my mother and I (still some are trying to pull the "baal" rhetoric...!)

Still, I hold onto the hope, and pray, that we may each find genuine friendships: the kind that understand us, support us, and allow us to be fully ourselves. It is, in many ways, unfair that not everyone experiences this, because it is something every person deserves.

In this sense, planning for the end of life becomes an extension of how one chooses to live. It allows for intentional decisions, about how one’s body is cared for, how one’s memory is honoured, and how one’s values continue to be reflected even after death. It also relieves others of uncertainty, offering them clarity during what would otherwise be a difficult time.

For me, this planning is simple. I wish for my remains to be handled with dignity, for my memory to be grounded in the values I carried, and for those I leave behind to feel not burdened, but supported by the clarity I have tried to provide.

Ultimately, this is not about death- it is about life.

It is about living in such a way that, when the time comes, there is coherence between who I was, what I did, and what I hoped for. It is about contributing, however modestly, to a more compassionate and equitable world.

At the same time, I recognize that the ability to live fully and freely is not equally distributed. Many people face constraints, personal, structural, or environmental, that shape what is possible. Even in my own circumstances, there are challenges that complicate this ideal. And yet, I remain aware of the relative privilege (actually, extreme privilege) of living in a place like Canada, where stability, human rights, knowledge, transparency, and opportunities exist in ways that are not universal.

This awareness does not negate hardship, but it situates it within a broader context of shared human inequity.

And so, this reflection is not only about personal legacy, but also about humility: understanding that each life unfolds within conditions both chosen and imposed.

Until the end, then, this serves as a reminder:

to live with prudence and a fear of God,
to act with intention, and 

to remain grounded in the values that give life its meaning (i.e., God, love).

Another immensely important part of how I want to live is that, ultimately, it is not for others to see, but for God to see. In truth, at the end of the day, I do not care too much, nor can care too much, about how I am remembered by people. Reason 1: I am not important enough to be cared about by most people. Reason 2: Scripture reminds us that human judgment and worldly esteem are not the same as what is pleasing to the Lord. I know that by grace we are saved, not by works, and certainly not because any of us are more important than others. We all have different life experiences, different burdens, different opportunities, and different forms of privilege. I cannot honestly say that most of my opportunities and good experiences are simply because I deserved them; rather, many are also a reflection of grace, circumstance, and the privileges, most undeserved out of anything I personally did, that I have had.

Ultimately, I want to live in a way that shows I am trying to glorify and respect God, to repent of my sins, and to be a person who strives to do good. I want to encourage others to have faith in Jesus Christ, to heal where healing is possible, and to point others toward truth. I want to help reveal corruption and darkness where it exists, to lessen fear, and to bring lightness, laughter, and joy to others where I can. Even in very difficult circumstances, I have often tried to remain comical and somewhat jovial, because sometimes that spirit helps one endure what would otherwise feel unbearable.

But beyond all else, I truly do care about God. I want to repent, to live more decently and humbly, and to remind others of my Faith in God. I genuinely pray that others, too, may come to faith in God. I pray for peace, health, goodness, life, repentance, and mercy.

I pray this in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Relevant Scripture references: Ephesians 2:8–9; Micah 6:8; Proverbs 16:9; Matthew 6:1–4; Colossians 3:23; 1 Samuel 16:7.