Healing Path with Gargi

Death is not only when the physical human body dies, when one stops breathing.

Death happens every day, every week, every month, every year, every decade, every century, and every age. Death can take many different forms.

As human beings, we grow from a baby to a child, from a child to a teenager, from a teenager to an adult, through middle age, and eventually into old age. Every time we move from one phase of life to another, a part of us dies so that a new part can emerge. Our bodies, minds, and identities are constantly changing through different stages of life.

Every decision in life can involve the death of something and the birth of something else. We often associate death only with the physical body, and because of that, we spend much of our lives fearing it. We tell ourselves that we need to achieve more, perform better, experience more, travel more, and make the most of life before our physical body dies. In all of this, I often see fear and attachment driving many of our choices.

Life can easily become a chase for achievements, milestones, and future goals. We keep looking for the next thing to accomplish, believing it will finally make us feel complete. But isn’t it true that no matter how much we do, something will always be left behind? As the dialogue in one of Bollywood movie says, “Life mein kuch na kuch chhoot hi jayega.”

To me, that line is not about lack or limitation. It is about the reality that life involves choices. If we are constantly chasing future milestones and goals, we are not fully living in the present moment. We are always running towards something else. Life can never be perfect in every way. There will always be something we gain and something we leave behind. Every moment can feel complete in itself while still containing imperfections.

How we experience life depends largely on how we choose to look at it. The idea that “something will always be left behind” does not come from a mindset of scarcity for me. It comes from a place of fulfillment. There will always be something to look forward to, but there also comes a point when we must decide whether we want to keep running endlessly or simply be present with what is already here.

When I decided to move to Bangalore, I knew a part of me was dying. It was the part that was willing to settle into a life where I would marry a financially secure husband and live as a housewife, as many people expected. For me, moving was about proving to myself that I could build a good life through my own hard work. I wanted to earn my own money and fulfill my dreams and wishes without being financially dependent on anyone else.

My family was against my decision to move to Bangalore for my studies. At that point, I had to fight for the life I wanted to live. I did not want to follow the path that everyone else expected me to follow. I wanted to create my own path.

Moving to Bangalore and managing the first year was not easy. I had very little money and had to be careful with every expense. My father was a government employee, and I knew he was already doing his best to support me. Because of that, asking for more money was never something I felt comfortable doing.

What kept me going was the fire and passion inside me to build the life I wanted. Along the way, a new identity was born. I became someone who could fight her own battles without depending on others to solve them. That period helped me build resilience and strength. There were days when I cried because I wanted my family to support my decision and accept me for who I was becoming.

After completing my studies and getting placed in a global company, I felt that transformation had come full circle. The new identity that emerged was someone who followed her dreams and ambitions, someone who did not follow the crowd, and someone who chose to live life in her own way.

Another major death happened when I decided to move from one organization to another.

At that point, I knew a part of me that had settled for less appreciation, less recognition, and less value for the work I was doing needed to die. I was tired of being overlooked and treated as an underperformer despite the effort I was putting in. With the new organization came a new version of myself—someone who was confident, someone who would receive the recognition she deserved, and someone who would be rewarded fairly for her work.

The decision was not easy. Being undervalued for a long period had affected my confidence. It had affected the courageous person I once was when I moved from Rajkot to Bangalore. I was scared. I worried that another organization might turn out to be worse than my current one. I worried that the workload and work culture could be even more difficult.

Still, I kept trying.

One day, an HR professional told me that I was asking for too much and that no company would be willing to offer the salary hike I wanted. That comment affected me deeply. For a moment, I questioned myself. But I chose not to settle.

The entire time, there was an inner voice telling me to keep applying and keep interviewing. Then, almost unexpectedly, I received a job offer that felt aligned with what I was looking for. Later, after joining that organization, I found the work more rewarding, exciting, and satisfying than my previous experience.

When I left the corporate world to move into the wellness industry, starting with yoga teaching and later becoming a healer and embodiment coach, another part of me died.

A part of me that enjoyed the comforts and security of a corporate salary had to be left behind. In its place emerged someone who wanted to lead her own life, work independently, and have the freedom to decide how, when, and where she worked.

Another part of me also let go of the belief in the “golden cage” that many corporate employees find themselves in. For a long time, I believed that corporate success represented the ideal life. Over time, I realized that it was not necessarily true for me.

I began to understand that life is not only about financial success or external achievements. For me, it became more about spending time with family and loved ones, being present when they need me, having the freedom to move through different phases of life without being controlled by work, spending time in nature, and doing work that contributes not only to people but also to the world around me.

Making the decision to leave was one of the most difficult choices of my life. I was extremely scared. I experienced more anxiety, stress, and fear than I ever had before. At the same time, there was another voice inside me telling me to move forward.

I spent two to three months working through my fears, emotions, and uncertainty before finally making the decision. During that period, a part of me that felt comfortable with the security and benefits of corporate life had to die.

When I started teaching yoga full-time, I realized how satisfying it felt to work in the wellness industry. For the first time, I felt that I was contributing something meaningful to another person’s life. Although I was earning significantly less money, the work itself felt fulfilling, and that fulfillment kept me moving forward.

Eventually, after about a year, I left my full-time role at the studio because I wanted to build a life on my own terms. I wanted to work independently, create my own rhythm, have flexibility in my schedule, and be paid based on the time, effort, and energy I invested.

This is my story of death.

These are not the only deaths I have experienced, but they are some of the major ones that stand out when I look back on my life. There have been many moments when an old version of me died and a new version was born.

To me, this is what death means. Death can exist in many forms. It is not only something that happens at the end of life. It is also a necessary part of growth and transformation. Without some form of death, something new cannot emerge.

That is why I do not see death as something entirely negative. In many ways, it can be one of the most liberating experiences a person can have. Every time we let go of an old identity, an old belief, or an old way of living, we create space for something new to be born.

Change is the only constant in the world and in our lives. And perhaps every meaningful change begins with a small death.