Maybe life has such a secret, magical purpose that we barely half understand. And death, is a culmination, an almost orgasmic part of that life's secret magical purpose? I feel we don't die until we have completed what we are here for. (And we don't very often consciously know what that is) But when it's done, we die. There are some very strange things attending death. Once, I was almost killed. Two hours before, I had no idea this was going to happen. It was an ordinary day. As I was finishing work, a stranger came up to me, and began to chat. All his (quietly-spoken, gentle) conversation was more or less asking me what I had got out of life up to that point, what had I learned, etc, etc. He seemed like not quite from this world. Later I reviewed the whole series of events, and wondered if it were possible I were being given certain choices surrounding death...? That only my deeper mind could process?