I used to be terrified of death. I think of my teacher's story of his friend spending his life dreaming to be a teacher, only to be killed in a car accident a year into his first teaching job. I think of a close family member who's lived his life for today, only to end up in his grandparent's basement with partial custody of his child. That creeping thought that death can come at any time isn't liberation. It's hell. It makes so much sense, yet is so
wrong. What's the point of building for the future if there might not even be a future? Why follow your dreams when you might never reach them?
I think I've found the answer. I came with the realization I'm okay with dying to save another's life. It's a simple argument; what could make your life more meaningful than saving someone from death? It's the ultimate show of self-worth. There's no primal fear. Sadness, yes, but not for myself. Sadness that this world is a cruel place where death still happens. My mind is far more powerful than my body, at least in this regard.
I continue to live so I can make the world a better place. If I receive a favor, then I'll return it. This cooperation, even on the small scale my first-world life experiences, gives me the will to live. I don't mean to be dramatic, and I'm probably oversimplifying. I have no idea what's after this life, I have no way of figuring it out, and so I don't care. What matters, here and now, is what I live for. I'm not afraid of death, not because someone else said it's my time, but because my life was lived to it's fullest. And by fullest, I mean helping the world, if just a little bit.
I'd have to say, this philosophy's working out pretty good so far. :)
How can a dream have that much impact unless what happened was them actually communicating with the dead?
There are ways to accept death without knowing what's out there. I don't expect you to accept death yourself, but you should at least be able to see other people have. Apart from myself, my first thought goes to the military. Those stories of heroic sacrifice, even when in vain.
As for the power of dreams, I know from personal experience that dreams can change the person you are. On multiple occasions I've woken up in the middle of the night, all because of a cautionary tale a nightmare shows me. They're usually random, but once in a blue moon they form a story I couldn't get myself to face while awake. If you haven't already felt that, give it some time. Dreams are more powerful than the strongest hit of acid.